A Whole New World

There’s something about the beginning of the month that makes me feel like I can start over. That I can decide to focus on making my life the way I want it to be. That past two years or so that feeling has been few and far in between. I’ve been doing my best behind the scenes for a long time. Quietly rebuilding and focusing on my mental health. I feel for the first time in a long time that I have the tools in me to reestablish myself and rebuild this blog into what it’ll become from now on.

I have been irreversibly changed in the past few years. Lost and found myself multiple times. Dealt with some of the most harrowing and painful things I’ve had to deal with in my life. Through it all, I’ve quietly focused and rebuilt on my joy and my ability to rest and recover. During the past few years I did not have the bandwidth to give of myself much more then I was giving to my work, family, and friends. I understand that now. I am not upset anymore that I wasn’t able to return here during that time. A lot of it had to do with my relationship with my anxieties and my fear.

Even now, I know that eventually one of the saddest moments of my life is coming. However, I cannot keep myself from doing the things I love to do in the meantime and after that point. My time away from blogging has been valuable. I am not the same girl I was when I started the book raven. I have grown. I have established a very loving and understanding partnership with a person who has been unconditionally supportive of me and my dreams and I to them. I have picked up the pieces over and over again dealing with the reality of my dads terminal illness. I have allowed myself to give myself the space I needed to breath and to rediscover and rebuild myself from a point in my life where I felt so lost.

I am now focused on moving forward. On creating. On balancing the hardships of life with the precious joyous moments I can cherish. In this moment I can feel it in my heart that this is the best way forward. To balance living, work, and doing things that impassion me. Only a week ago I had started to dance to music again. To feel that blissful freedom of movement.

I am a woman who has been remade and renewed. It is time for me to once again shine in the new ways that I desire to. I am planning so much to share with you all. In writing, in books, in the world of video games. I am ready. I hope you all are ready to join me. It’s going to be a whole new world.

THANK YOU ALL FOR READING! Let me know your thoughts down in the comments below! 

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The Kind of Writer I Wish to Be

With all my heart my one wish in this world is to be a writer. A writer that tells ya stories like the many that have captured my heart and shaped me as I grew older.

Every time I see an author that writes prolifically and comes out with one even two or three novels every year I am filled to the brim with a certain envy. That is the life I want. I want to write every single day. I want to write every single one of the stories that have danced in my head since I was 14 years old. Old stories, new stories, retellings, horrors, and fantasies. I want to tell them all.

I want to be the kind of writer that drafts constantly. That breaths life into story after story allowing myself to finesse one while creating the other. I want to tell stories that have hope, but also the stories that are a bit of a tragedy. I want my characters to feel real and to walk into worlds that feel just as real.

I want to be the kind of author that doesn’t give up. The kind of author that doesn’t neglect herself or her poetry. The kind of author that doesn’t deny that swirl of different and polar opposite stories that life inside her and to never give up on any of them. An author with no particular specialty to be known for. An author whom isn’t stuck in a corner of a specific genre.

Most of all I want to be the kind of author that gives herself to Writing every day of her life. Gives herself over to it and lets it be what it’s meant to. Denying her muse nothing.

One day I hope to be that kind of writer. I hope to make it my life. It may take years and years of hard work and learning, but my journey has just begun and I’m finally realizing that I am taking steps to be on the right path.

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think down in the comments.

-Till next time!

The World We Live In

I haven’t felt like writing for many days. My heart hasn’t been in it. I could not understand what has been happening in the world around me, but then, I have just had my eyes open to the cruelty of a world that has been there all along. There has always been struggles, humanity against humanity, since the first time humans walked this earth. I only have to look around to see how we treat one another based on the look of our bodies, the hue of our skin, the strength of our beliefs; I am sickened by it.

All my life I have been an outsider. As a child, I had very few friends and even than I knew that I really couldn’t call them true ‘friends’. I played kick ball, hand ball, and enjoyed going on the monkey bars. Yet, I was asked by boys why I would ever play kickball, I was a girl (who loved pink) and seeing me there just didn’t seem right. Hand ball was even worse because I was often shoved out of line, but I stayed because I enjoyed playing, and because I knew even then that I had just as much right to play as anyone else.

As I got older, recess and playing outside was no longer something I could do. So, I would take walks on my own around the school yard after I ate. I didn’t speak much to anyone back then. The only time I spoke was in the classroom.

Now I am seen as outsider of my own family, but in truth I have always been seen that way. Every time I call my mom “Mom.” I see people look in confusion wondering how that could ever be so. All people see is the blonde hair, blue eyed, light skinned girl standing with a brown haired, brown eyed, darker skinned woman who looks too different to have a relation. What people don’t look at is the bond.

Being an outsider in these ways is not so bad. I know so many people who have it so much worse. I haven’t felt the bite of being belittled for how I look, or the pain of physical violence because of my religion, I haven’t been hurt, not really, but I can’t stand for the injustice of those who have.

For instance, while I was in high school, I was eating lunch at the tables outside with a group of people I had seen as my ‘friends’ and there was two spanish men fixing the window above where our table was. One of the boys sitting with me Began to make derogatory comments about the workers being undocumented that angered me to no end. To make matters worse, he looked at me like (because I was white) I was expected to agree. Angry, I yelled at him and I left. I couldn’t stand to continue to eat at the same table as someone who said the things he did. This was one of the first instances that made me hate my own race. How could it be that I was expected to hate a certain kind of people just because my own skin was a certain color? Why should I be expected to hate anyone? To treat anyone with hate? To verbally abuse someone for the social constraints others have placed on them? That it would be ok?

I have never cared about the race someone was born into. Race is simply what culture and people you were born into. I could have just as easily been born Chinese. I could have easily born in any other country. I could have had any kind of family. All the possibilities are endless. I do not fault anyone for the family they were born into. I do not fault anyone for what they believe in. I do not fault anyone for what gender they are or what sexual preference one has. To me, humans are humans, we all have our struggles, we all have our dreams. I am no better than anyone else. The only thing I fault people for is when they treat another with hatred. When someone acts in order to harm another and makes them feel less than dirt I feel so much anger. I want to act to combat it.

This is what I want to do with my writing. I want to use it to act. To change the way things have been originally thought. To get people to think. To inspire others to do a bit of good. I haven’t felt like writing these past few days, but I am writing now. My heart is fully invested. I may not understand why society has created the hatred and pain that it has, but I want to be a lyrical force against it. Actions may speak louder than words, but the pen is mightier than the sword and I will fight will all my might. For the people and the beauty of the world that I believe in.
Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this post. I had written it a long time ago and I don’t know why, but I felt afraid to publish it. I hope that my story here has spoken to you in some way. It would bring my heart so much joy to feel like this has made some difference, no matter how small. 

-Till next time!