The majority of people in the US, in my opinion, latched onto a slow moving behavior that leads towards destruction. I think it’s a common trap to become wrapped up in how we compare to the next person, and not enjoy the life in front of us. I’m not a perfect person, but I’m willing to make mistakes while going after what I want/believe in. That being said, I have a concrete understanding of who I am because of my actions. However, most people adapt a code of behaviors and actions that are acceptable by their peers, to be a part of something. To be “right.” On the other hand, most people in history who did things that mattered were rejected in the beginning because they decided to do something different when everyone else was afraid of breaking molds. Thankfully, everything we have today, we have because someone decided to do something different. Someone decided to go somewhere they had never been, whether it be math, science, technology, travel, anything really. So my question for myself and for you is, what is it that you’re curious about creating in life, and what are you going to do about it? I believe in God, and God is a creative being, and by default were made in his image, making us creators as well. So create something, anything. And for the love of God, don’t care what anyone else thinks.
I apologize for being away from my blog for so long. I’ll be writing every day from now on, at my new wake up time, 4am. As early as that sounds, it really isn’t too painful. As long as you have a solid night time routine, and get eight hours of sleep, waking up at any hour is a dream. My hope is that whatever comes out of my mind at such an early hour will be a happy beginning to my day and yours. It would be cool, if people woke up and read my blog instead of checking social media, and if I could inspire a different vibe of inspiration and not comparing yourself to someone who has a team of people making them look gorgeous. No hate, that’ll hopefully be me one day. Anyways, the reason for this new hope is I was reading a book about creative living. I had no idea some artists, writers, poets, painters, etc. used suffering as a crutch to the creative process. That they said it made them miserable but they couldn’t live without it. When I first started writing, I was over the moon because 1. I realized I could do something that I liked, and I liked the outcome of what it was and 2. It makes me happy. I literally feel like I’m floating through a stream on a sunny day. I’m peacefully, happy and have more to give my family and friends because I’m content with myself. There are so many talented people who gave the world wonderful things but let it take them over, but it doesn’t have to be that way. Art is courage and honesty, two things that make life interesting and fulfilling. I’m also working on a novel that I AM NOT GOING TO GET DISTRACTED writing anymore. I’ve been working on it on and off for three years and its time I straighten up. I’ll be writing about my journey working on this book and maybe if you have trouble staying focused, I’ll inspire you to buckle down too. I believe everyone has beautiful things God put in their soul to share with the world and its my job to inspire people to believe in sharing them. I don’t know how, but I’ll figure it out. God bless you and I hope you like whatever it is that I’m about to try.
Old things never suited me well. The wear and tear of time was something not appealing to me, except for when there is something eternal within the ancient walls. In that case, I wait for fire to come, to expose what was beneath the surface all along, something that will stay forever. Something golden waits. It melts, it reforms, it shines, it dulls, but it never leaves. The alchemy of what rests here will never change. The turning tables of time, ebb and flow like the ocean, sometimes calm, sometimes raging. Whatever this is, underneath the wood, it smooths with every touch. Salt water rubbing against it constantly make it the most precious stone of all. There are no blames placed on any ounce of water for the pain it causes, only thanks for the beautiful thing it becomes.
The old must pass away and the new must come anyway. The resistance, is a unnecessary stress that causes madness and grief. Scripturally even, God commanded a New Testament, because this is how the life he created works. The new thing, the thing that had been there all along, must come forth. Without it, life ends. So down with the wood, the murals, the statutes and set your eyes on the center of life.
Life stops for no one, it moves so quick, I’m just trying to remain soft and remember who I am. But like that stone, it isn’t the resisting of trouble that makes you glow, but the embracing of everything life offers that sets you free. I want to reverse the damage I’ve done, and begin again and live. I want to be okay.
Even though the purity is there, doesn’t mean it should be taken for granted and love will always save the day but I don’t want to give it more need for saving than enjoying.
The emotional relief for me, is expressing myself and being happy with the honesty I was able to get out. So let it out. And never keep it locked inside again.
I remember the first time I felt fear. I was a girl walking outside to the car with my mom and I began to sing. Earlier that day, my sister heard me sing and said it sounded like the radio. It wasn’t what she said that gave me faith that day, it was that I felt it, and then I heard it echoed in someones voice that I loved. I was so scared at what I realized I could do, but she reassured me instantly and fear never grew. Outside with my mom I tried for her to hear and she brushed me aside. I can’t remember what she said but it felt like a dungeon locking up deep down inside. I kept singing in private, but I would never go above a certain note. I was to afraid. Later on I was bullied by someone in elementary school who said I sounded like a cow, and then when I reached out to my best friends mom she interrupted and told me I should hear her daughter sing because she was actually talented. This is how I became afraid and doubtful of my own voice. But then, I moved into my own apartment and my upstairs neighbor didn’t mind how loud or how much I sang, so I did. Here’s the thing about singing, its something you have to play with and practice just like anything else to find your niche. It’s not about being perfect the first time you open your mouth. If I could go back to my child self, I would give her a wink and say sing anyways. Because I love singing, so that’s what I should be doing, talented or not. Life isn’t about perfect but about goodness. There are many people who have talented voices but sing for the wrong reasons. That reason being they think they have to but it isn’t what they want and nothing else.
You can’t always control the people your surrounded by or what situation life bring you, but you can have faith. You can let it light instead of darkness, and glow regardless.
You’ll never see me at Coachella, but you will see me walking down the street on the daily wearing whatever I want. I don’t need a music festival to release that inner piece of me. As I type, I’m placing together a look in my mind for this upcoming season. Can’t wait. Anyways, this is not supposed to sound negative, if music festivals are your thing, great, but they aren’t mine. I like to do my own thing and “get respect after” as Ed Sheeran would say. I feel like events like these invoke a heard like mentality, where there are no leaders, only followers looking to out do the next person. Thats just not my thing.
We all have an inner guidance. We are all possessed of a uniqueness that can never be duplicated, that can touch the hearts of others. Even if you were one of eight identical siblings, you would still be completely different from the rest. This is actually the first thing I was taught in elementary school, that no two people are the same. To hide that inner person, in my opinion, is the worst sin of all and something I have struggled with since graduating.
I love art because it gives me the outlet to be honest in a world where I feel like I feel like I have to pretend and play a role not meant for me. (whats up, Mulan) However, if I let go of what other people perceive and go by my own truth, eventually people will catch up. At least then, if someone doesn’t love/like me, it would be for the right reason. And then, the greatest treat of all, someone would love me for me, and that is the safest feeling in the universe.
I guess we all just want to be ourselves. Materialism, shame and expectations just fuck with the best of us and lead us astray. So whats the solution? Be brave and ponder what it is that we want, and then do exactly that. Block out the noise and trust. If we can learn to trust God, we could do anything. You have the talents and gifts that you have for a reason. Use them. This is what living is about. Living.
Cheap gasoline isn’t supposed to go in the car. I know this, but I can’t say anything. If I do, Manny will go into a wild rage and start screaming about how his father was mean to him and everything else he uses in his life that points towards him being a victim. It’s times like this I feel lost. Like I don’t understand how I ended up here with him, feeling powerless over his fits. I don’t think he is deserving for the sympathy he gets. I think I fell into his spell and gave him too much and now I’m locked in a cage, unable to escape, unable to speak. I quietly stand there and wait for him to figure it out, even though I could have told him and saved him all of this trouble.
“Fuck!” He exclaims. “I’m not supposed to put in the cheap gasoline, it hurts the engine.” He turns into an angrier person, unable of rationally putting the situation into perspective. His unreasonable rage seeps into the air, under my skin and begins to make me shake. My stomach turns and I want to be sick.
This is the moment I knew I wasn’t made for domestic life. To be in a position where I can’t speak even the most calm and basic of sentences. Where my body hurts. I dig my foot into the sand and think really hard about what to do. He makes all the money, pays for my house, controls my reputation around our friends, if I leave him, I leave everything.
There’s not many options. I have no money or car without him. The only thing I could do, is walk away.
Why wait? I think to myself. Nows as good a time as any. I can’t tell him. If I do, he’ll scream and Lord knows what else. I pull out my phone that he always checks at night and begin texting my family and friends.
You don’t know anymore than this, I’m leaving Manny. I will see you again when I have figured this out. I am okay. Manny is not well, I’m escaping.
I finish texting then I place my phone discreetly underneath the truck tire. I walk behind him as he screams. Soon I will become the target and that can never be again. So I step back slower and slower until I hear my sneaker crack a branch on the egde of the woods. Then I pivot quickly and run. I run so quick I feel super human. If he finds me in here, there is no one to see what happens. No witnesses to attest to this man truly being cruel. I run so quickly I don’t see the man I run into.
In a moment my body collides with his and I have landed on the ground. Dirt and branches dust my body. In the distance I hear Manny’s voice. Terrified, I know he must think I’m trying to run away. He cant find me, I can’t go back there. The man I collided with wears flannel, with a beard and timberland boots. He has a small pouch belly where manny had a perfectly tanned six pack. This is a man of the woods. Suddenly I feel a peace I never felt before. My panic subsides and I make a decision to trust a stranger.
I grab his collar. “You need to take me somewhere, now!” I don’t know why I trust him, he could be more harmful than Manny but I have to try something.
He hears an angry man screaming a women’s name and he looks at me with no further questions. He grabs my arm and pulls me through the woods. We run quickly like prey being chased by wolves.
In the distance, there is a log cabin. Smoke puffs from the top and I can smell smoked meat curing. We run into the house and he pulls me into the closet he has and opens a secret door for me to hide.
“Why are you trusting me?” He asks before closing the door.
“When I fell into you, I stopped falling apart.” I say. He nods and shuts the door.
Five minutes later, a knocking came to the door. I hear Manny’s voice after the door opens. He’s saying his mentally unstable sister ran away from him, that he was taking me to the hospital. Trust me I am not his sister. Manny is hispanic and I am Asian, Philippine, which I am sure the man can tell the difference between. I know this man is at a crossroads. He has to decide wether or not this person is telling the truth, or am I.
I hear two sats of footsteps creep into the house. Fuck, I thought and started to cry. He is going to kill me for this, I know it. I crawl into a ball and try to black out the pain I’m about to feel.
“… look around see if she’s here anywhere but I didn’t see any woman running through the woods. I’ve been cooking all day…”
I take a deep breath. He’s covering for me. Thank God. He’s saving me.
Manny thanks the man for his time and leave but I don’t dare get out of this closet for another twenty minutes. I sit in silence. I hear another knock on the door. Manny forgot his phone. I knew he was smart. He would come back just to double check. He leaves and this time I know its for good. The man comes to the closet and gives me a hand up.
“Are you okay?” He asks me.
For the first time I tell the truth. “No.”
He shakes his head, like an angel smiling that I finally spoke a true word. Bittersweet.
He made a cup of coffee for me and brought out meat to eat. This was a mans man. I quietly step to the table and curl up in a chair, with one foot on the seat and coffee resting on my knee. He takes a seat across from me.
“So how did you get here?” He asks.
“It wasn’t all at once. I kind of faded into it, slowly.”
“Do you hate him?”
“No, I couldn’t. He does this because he’s weak, not because he’s strong. I pity him.”
“You,” he tips his head and raises his coffee to me, “are a very smart woman.”
“Thank you. But now I have to start all over and somehow manage my friends and family and life around this fact that no one is going to want to accept.” I sigh.
“Why go back to them? Didn’t they see what he was doing? There is no way nobody noticed nothing.”
“So what are you saying?” I ask.
“Make new friends. Ones who’ve got your back. One’s that find you when your lost and don’t give you up to weak men.”
“But that’s my whole life.”
“Maybe your life hasn’t started yet. Because that didn’t look like your story to me. I see it in your eyes. Your no punching bag.”
“Said the stranger.”
“Said the man who saw you as worth saving.”
“To be clear, I saved myself, you just helped me.” I say.
He rolls his eyes and smiles. “Of course, Miss.” Then he turns his head sideways. “What is your name?”
I smile. “Abigail”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Salvador.”
“Nice to meet you. This meat is really good. What is it?”
“Smoked Islandic lamb. It’s my favorite.”
Are there any waitresses who read this blog? I fell into waitressing a couple years ago and I’ve been here ever since. It’s kind of like that boyfriend you wish you could break up with but always end up texting to watch a movie when your bored. I love it, don’t get me wrong. I love running around and talking to people and trying new foods that I was never exposed to. Restaurant work can be an incredible opportunity to make new friends, have a flexible schedule, avoid the gym, and make good money. I have no complaints. This winter I worked solo and did some modeling, some pop ups and little gigs here and there. The only problem was, I loved it. I took some time to work on some projects, do the things I love and travel and I loved it so much. But alas, I am human and part of the human experience is money no matter how much I want to ignore it. It’s not that I don’t like money, I just don’t really care. In my mind, I’m thinking of making a change in the world and doing something that aligns with my values and make my soul happy, to fall back into what feels like materialism, is a headache. I’ve changed though. Jen Senario wrote a book about money that helped me change my perspective on it. Just because you focus on building wealth and pay your bills doesn’t make you materialistic or void of true ambition. However, in my defense, I have seen many people who only value paid work and paying bills with no other vibrant threads woven into their life. To me it seemed like a dull and broken system but I know now that is not the only way to live. In my opinion, expression comes before anything. A healthy, happy person is a functional person. And you cannot be happy without expressing yourself, without being truthful and living within your values. So many people have told me to work at night clubs because they think I would make lots of money but thats a big fat no. I like either star gazing or sleeping at night, I don’t drink alcohol, I don’t like loud dark places and I don’t like being objectified. So that doesn’t work for me. But breakfast waitressing in a cute small place, with other kind women and a boss who I think I can learn a lot from, is different. It fits me. It’s happy, it’s fast pace and theres food. I’m good.
Basically what I’m getting at is I’m in the weeds right now in life. I have work, family, finances, a calling and a desire to living life fuller all colliding at the same time and they are all in crisis mode. But like in the weeds in waitressing, thats when you make the most money, meet the most people and accomplish most of your work. Life can be like being weeded sometimes, but it’s always for your benefit. You just wont see that until your waking up the next day with money, friends and a completed task.
I liked working solo I really did. But I think there is a way to balance everything at once. Because before anything else, my first value is people. What good would it be to follow my dreams if no one else was involved? People are my true passion and even though I’m not where I thought I would be right now, I think somehow this is better. That somehow God is placing me where I need to be to learn, to connect, to express and then move forward.
For those of you who have never served, in the weeds is a saying for when its so busy that you can barely function and you have a million things to do at once.