A little Too Different

Why do I stand off

to the side?

Why do I choose to

Break instead of abide?

Perhaps you’ll understand

 I’m not like this by choice

I couldn’t be any other way,

Unless I wish to lie.

I’ve been shoved out

Of the main frame

Stabbed in the front

Shoved into lockers and

Told to change

Because I’m

Just a little too different.

Because I’m

Not afraid to be me.

You see people

In their little cliques

They look

and act

and dress

All the same.

They are soulless

Their too damn scared

To be themselves.

I walk in a straight line

Not on the left

Not on the right.

I find my peace

somewhere between.

Some say I’m too free

Move along.

Others say

I’m too calm

I’m better off at home in bed.

Because I’m

Just a little too different.

Because I

Can’t be labeled.

I just can’t fit in anywhere.

I’m just a little too different.

I make everybody realize

They’re not happy

 With who they are.

They aren’t who they should be.

/so why can’t I

Just fall in line?

With one side or the other?

It’d make everyone else

Feel so much better.

But the only person

I need to make happy

Is me; not all of you.

Because I’m

Just a little too different.

Because I’m

Not okay with sacrificing my soul

Just to be like you.

I’m just a little too different to care.

That’s right,

I’m just a little too different to care.

Belief

I remember when I was much younger and my family went to church, I didn’t realize for the longest time that people actually believed the stories in the Bible. It was a gradual realization, there wasn’t really a specific moment in time that it struck me that people took those stories seriously and as actual documented events. Like the Ancient Greek stories that my Mama told me, I thought they were good moral stories to learn from, and that church was just a place where people who had a particular connection with those stories gathered (which I found kind of odd, because I found the tales a little hard to understand because of the way they were written, but they were adults, sometimes adults did things that didn’t make sense to me because I’m the kid. It would all make sense once I was grown up, which in my mind was around fourteen or so). I remember not wanting to accept that adults believed these stories, and having to keep on reminding myself that they thought it was all real so I wouldn’t make a comment that might offend them.

  At one point I tried to think it was all true, I even said it out loud, but it rang false in my ears. The statement made me feel dirty, because I didn’t believe, I just wanted to, really badly, I wanted to, but I didn’t like the feeling that the Lord’s Prayer gave me when I recited it, it was the same feeling I got when I was trying to lie to someone.

  So for years I discouraged my family going to church. When my parents asked if I wanted to go, I would just say I didn’t like getting up early, and they would leave it at that and let me sleep. One year on Easter Papa was feeling some pressure from his boss to go to this Easter play his boss’s church was putting on. I tried to pass the “too early” excuse, but it was an evening show. So we went, and I remember feeling some surprise after the show was over and everyone was invited to come up to the alter and be forgiven all of their sins, and neither of my parents budged. Later, our parents bought us some shakes for behaving so well, even though none of us had wanted to go. As we slurped they explained that sometimes in the work world you had to do things that you wouldn’t normally do, and in this case it was either Papa would have to spend hours on his boss’s boat to go fishing, or go to this play; and that if he didn’t do either, it would have been very awkward. We asked what they thought of the Easter story; the most that they would commit to was that if Jesus was a real person, it didn’t really affect us because it was so long ago. I felt a rush of relief, because I felt that way too, though I wouldn’t have been able to put it to words. It wasn’t until years later that I found out that my parents never stated their own beliefs because they wanted my brothers and I to find our own way, and not be influenced by their opinions when we were too young to make our own, and no matter what conclusions we reached, they would accept it and love us no matter what.

  In my late teens whenever I made a statement about beliefs or religion in general, Mama would present the opposite side of the arguments, which baffled me, then she told me she just wanted me to have my arguments down to the letter, so my opinions would be complete, like a house with four walls, a door and a roof (I’m paraphrasing, she didn’t say this exactly.) As I became more observant and I just saw more of the world in general, I learned that there were people out there who had their opinions, and stood by them, even though their “house” was very incomplete, the one thing that they had finished was a closed and padlocked door to keep all other options and opinions out. So because of my parent’s unique and wise way of upbringing, I feel confident in my house, and that I try to keep all doors and windows open, and I’m not afraid of remodel as circumstances change in my life.

Storytelling

The more I think about it the more I realize that everything that I enjoy doing involves storytelling. Think about it: acting and watching others act is a way to physically show and recite a story; writing is of course storytelling in its roughest form, no colors, no pretty decorations, it’s just wholly dependent upon the writer’s ability to portray an idea, and the readers ability to process and envision that idea and understand it; music is an emotional story whether it is wordless, in a foreign tongue or otherwise, whether you are the composer of the story or the listener, you are portraying an idea or tale through sounds; dancing is another way of acting out a story; so is a painting and drawing, these pieces of art each tell its own tale in a still form. In this respect, the arts themselves are just a way to communicate ideas, feelings and stories to those who have the ability to understand them.

Writing Parasites

There are real writers, and then…there are phonies. I came to realize that real writers all admit to being a little kooky, and usually we don’t fight it. If we can find a group of us, unless you have an exclusive membership you will enviably get some wannabe writers. There are far too many of those carbon copies out here, all they do is take a popular story and change a few things so that they can’t get sued. Their excuse being that every idea has been already thought of by somebody else, that no one can write a new idea, because everything has already be thought of already in some form, and I don’t really buy that, but okay, I’m not going to argue with it either. Supposing that is true, there people are taking ideas deliberately, and that’s far from writing something then realizing that some parts of your sci-fi story has remarkable similarities to this older fantasy story which you only read after you had written your story. These people are plagiarizers and rip-offs, going to writer’s groups stealing the other writer’s time and ideas when they chose to suggest or help them out. I don’t know if you can pick up on the agitation in my tone of my writing, but it’s because I have had the misfortune of having such a parasite in a writing group I participated in once, and it bothers me.

My Trip - Sacramento

Sacramento Capitol dome

When my little brother, Mama and I went through Sacramento on the way to UC Davis for a Public Speaking Contest, we made a quick detour to see the State Capitol. The architecture was breathtaking. It reminded me of how great artists were once revered, encouraged and most importantly funded, to do what they did best: create.

Mama at Capitol staircase.

In a time of cheap labor and fast deadlines, nothing great will ever be built again, unless someone begins to take an example from the Medici family and start funding the Leonardo of today. Otherwise, there will be nothing left of us but the rubble of quickly put together plans of today, which won’t be worth remembering tomorrow. We are in the dark ages and if you don’t think so: look at the Sacramento State Capitol and name one thing that has been created in this century that can even remotely measure up. Even the stair rails are pieces of art!

Wooden bear head staircase decoration

Breakdowns

Sometimes when things in your life are compounding themselves on top of you, you need to make sure that they don’t start to pile up inside you too. Eventually your suppressed feelings will break out of you and spill all over the place – which is my colorful way of saying: “you’re having a breakdown babe”.

  Crying, screaming, and yelling are often the symptoms of a breakdown, but they can also help prevent you from having a breakdown. I know, it sounds counterintuitive, but I find it to be true. But these mini breakdowns or what not are actually healthier than letting them build up to the real deal.

  Also when you breakdown, you are not in control of what your breakdown will be about, and it can be over something stupid, and may have only the slightest connection (or no connection) to what your breakdown is really about. It’s better to have the little breakdowns that you can control when and where they will happen, than just snapping at that last straw that broke the camel’s back.

Last Day

Today is the day before my eighteenth birthday. Not only is it the last day I shall be this age, but it is also the last day I shall be a child as far as the law is concerned. It’s a big thing, according to many. Lots of people mark their eighteenth birthday by doing something they weren’t able to do while they were children, such as going to an R rated movie, or buying a pack of cigarettes, not to smoke them, just because you can. I’ve decided to reflect on what I’ve learned before I turn eighteen.

If there is one thing that I have learned during the last seventeen years of my life, it’s that you can always be a kid inside, even while you’re dealing with adult issues. People that look upon the world with the eyes of a child laugh more and cry less. They are more content because they know what makes them happy. People with child’s eyes can cut through the drama and see the heart of a problem. Children know life is simple and that life should be fun instead of hard and cruel. Adults make the world hard, not the world.

I’m facing my adult life with the determination to keep my child’s eyes well taken care of, instead of letting them be blinded by “obligations”, and “responsibilities”.

As long as we live, we learn, and as long as we learn, we make mistakes. Making mistakes is a part of being alive, so why sweat it? Why tangle ourselves in the delusion that life is hard when we hold the key to making it simple? When you hurt someone, you apologize. When you fall, you get back up and clean you wounds and heal. When someone hurts you don’t let them hurt you again; whether that means talking it out, avoiding that subject, or avoiding that person all together.

When I was thirteen, I dreamed that I died. Mama told me that it was my self-consciouses way of acknowledging that my life and body were changing from girl to woman and I wouldn’t be able to go back again. In a sense my childhood was dying, but she said “with every end there is a beginning.” My childhood would be over, and I would be an adult, there is no way to turn back the clock. I will go to college, get some degrees and do things no child could ever do. I will not be able to go outside after a rainstorm and throw mud at my brothers unless I wanted to be put in the psycho ward. There are things I can never do again; but that doesn’t mean I can’t have fun like a child, smile and laugh like a child, and be carefree whenever the opportunity presents itself.

With this last essay as the seventeen-year-old me, I bid you farewell.

A Conversation Between Three Parents

Linda: How old are your children?
Jim: Thirty-five and thirty-three.
Martha: Nineteen, seventeen, and fifteen.
Linda: Ooh.
Martha: What?
Jim: Don’t worry, they’ll be gone soon.
M: Why should I worry?
J: Well, when my children were teenagers, my wife and I took every opportunity to be out of the house: golfing, fishing, hunting, women’s group for her and poker every Friday and Saturday night for me, and adult church supper every Sunday evening.
L: Yes, yes. I have a three year old and a five year old, so I know exactly what you mean by needing to get away.
J chuckling: I still remember all of those sleepless nights getting the baby to stop crying!
L: Tell me about it.
M: Well, that’s the deal with babies, they don’t understand how to wait; when they need something they need it now.
L: Yes, yes, but they’re so….needy.
J: That’s how they are, and it doesn’t ever stop. Even now my kids call me: “Benny broke his arm and I don’t think I can pay the bill.” Did you ever think of getting health insurance? He’s not my kid; it’s time you take responsibility.
M: Is Benny your…step-grandson?
J: No, he’s my grandson, why did you think-
L interrupting: Maybe they can’t afford insurance.
J: Oh they could if they thought ahead and saved.
There was a silence.
L: I can’t even fathom three teenagers.
M: It’s really not that bad-
J: Oh, you’re just more patient then the rest of us.
M: Perhaps.
L: I must say I’ve never seen three teens more well-behaved. How did you do that?
M: Love, care, coddling and being honest.
J scoffs.
L: Well, we all do that, but what’s your secret? What do you do to make them behave?
M: I don’t do anything. They learned basic manners when they were really young. Every once in awhile they need reminders, but we all do, don’t we?
M gives a laugh to break the tension.
J: How did you do that?
M: I was always right there reminding them. If I said “No” and they didn’t listen, there was always a consequence. I never let them get away with anything, so they grew up knowing that if they chose to cross a line they would get into trouble.
L: But that sounds so time-consuming.
J: And straining.
M: Sometimes that part of raising a child is hard, but I found most of it all a joy.
J grunts and walks off.
L as she walks away: Well, I have no idea how you can have all of that energy.
M to herself: You don’t care enough to make the effort. That’s too bad for you.

Wolves - If everyone cared

I found this yesterday. I believe it to be a great representation of the beauty of these animals. Wolves have been greatly misunderstood for centuries. If we all learned to think with clarity and logic, we would all understand that the wolf is a needed animal in the wild to keep the balance of life and death. The elimination of this vital strand of the web of life can only lead to disaster. Not to mention the wolves serve as a reminder for us humans that all things of nature have a place and are beautiful.

Death

I don’t suppose a lot of people think about Death these days. When they do, they think of it as a disease that needs to be solved, rather than a natural course of events.
Aging? A disease? Get out of here! What’s next? Pregnancy is a parasitic condition? That actually makes a whole lot more sense to me.
There are so many interpretations of Death that I enjoy studying its many interpretations. One thing that’s evident to me is that everything dies eventually. Even the mythical Gods couldn’t truly escape it, if one wished to “off” the other; it was usually possible. (Although, usually the Gods got so angry at each other, they prefer to keep their enemy Gods around to torture them.) But that’s besides the point. The point is, everything dies, so why be afraid of it? Why pretend there’s a way around it? It’ll come eventually to everybody, so just live your life and be happy. The only thing that’s known for sure is this life, so just live your life and be happy.

Stairs Leading to Nowhere

I was flipping through one of my composition books and came across an old writing prompt that said “Stairs leading to nowhere…” My first story was about a crumbling staircase in a graveyard that used to be a part of a building that’s function was long forgotten.
Today when I looked at the prompt it brought up things in my mind that were completely different from what I had come up with the last time I looked at it.
The first things that popped into my head were the unfinished “Adoration of the Magi” painting by Leonardo Di Vinci, and the stone steps in our old backyard in Bella Vista, and how Arkansas is a place that will lead a local to nowhere and an outsider to certain ruin…
Then there was something else a lot more profound than the others. Drugs and alcohol are “stairs leading to nowhere” in a symbolic sort of way.
Everyone can look at history and see what those things do to people, that it leads to absolutely nowhere, or like the “Adoration of the Magi” they lead to a shear drop that could kill you.
Anyone can see it, yet generation after generation continue to choose not to look beyond the step directly beneath them, and when they run out of stairs they may not even realize that their falling until they hit the ground.
Then what? What do most people do if they survive hitting the ground? Turn around and start looking for a staircase that will actually lead them somewhere? Some do, most don’t.
Sad to say a large number of them get right back on that same old staircase, thinking that this time they won’t climb so high this time, and they’ll avoid falling. A number of them do succeed to a degree while others take the big tumble all over again. All these people continue to use the stairs, never seeing that they will never bring them anywhere.
They just stay stuck in place, never moving on as human beings, never progressing, they are content to remain stationary, content in their nothingness and insignificance, until they become another step on the stairs leading to nowhere.

Photo Albums

Now a day’s everybody is going digital with everything. I find myself asking: Is this a good thing?
It seems to me that people who do their billing, banking, picture taking, writing, communication and filming all digitally are just one Super Virus away from becoming nobody. I don’t read much science fiction, but I’m sure that there is some author somewhere who has addressed the issue of a technologically advanced species that lost everything in a major power shortage, and everybody was reduced to a very primitive way of living. These people forgot who they were and where they came from and went back to telling stories about gods who control everything that happens, because that will seem more logical than microorganisms, atoms and neutrons. Because these people forgot their own histories they became in essence, nothing…

I’m not about to go into all of that, I’m not predicting that something like that will happen, I’m just planning upon making a smaller point, that will demonstrate that going digital is not necessarily a good thing.

Photos

I love my families albums, I love being able to just sit down and remember things that happened, and even the things that I was too young to remember, I like to imagine that I can. I’m not capable of relating how much these albums mean to my family and I. The ability to recount events and recall old conversations and events that we shared together helps us stay strong as a family, and helps bring forth our individuality.
Another thing I don’t think I could ever live without is our old family portraits. I can’t remember a time when Great Grandma and Great Grandpa Mezzano didn’t gaze down at me from a wall in my families home. Although I never met them, it’s a constant and comforting reminder that I am a part of a family; that a piece of those two people lives in me, and I feel as if as long as they hang on the wall, they will always be alive as well.
I feel similarly about the photo albums, except they have me and people that I know and have met in them, I can’t help but feel as long as they are there, I will always live on. My history and my story will always be there for someone else to see long after I’m gone. It gives me a sense of long lasting security. I will never disappear. I will always be there in those happy, or angry, or frustrating moments, it’s captured right there in that second.

Now this digital thing, I’m afraid of it quite frankly. I walk into people’s houses and there isn’t a single picture on the wall. Not a family portrait, or a school picture. It’s like these people are ghosts, these homes feel as empty and as expressionless as a hotel room. I immediately feel alien from these people; there isn’t a sign of them anywhere!
So when I hear that people have gone digital and their kids are rebelling against it, my immediate reaction is: “of course they are!! Why wouldn’t they?”
They’re growing up like ghosts. No wait, if they were ghosts, they would have a past, and they would be clinging to it. These children are without a past. When you’re growing up, you are constantly wondering “Who am I?” and “Where did I come from?” It’s in human nature to ask these questions. To have a past gives you your identity, something that can never be stolen from you. Photos in easily accessible albums, and hanging on the walls were children can see it gives them a sense of security.
Growing up I know that man on the wall is my Great Grandpa. I know that my Great Grandpa immigrated to this country and married my Great Grandma. That's the greatest feeling in the world: to know that there is a place for you; to know that you are an essential member of a family. Even though they never met me, I am a part of my grandparents lineage, and they mine.
Humans need that sense of belonging, which is why it makes perfect sense that the kids are rebelling against the going-digital thing. What doesn’t make sense is the adult’s immediate willingness to strip themselves of their identity in their own homes.

Inspirational Thoughts on Life

I figured most people have some sort of personal Inspirational realization through their life; some pieces of information that have snapped together and no matter who you are or how much time elapses, thoughts that won’t ever change. This is merely my teenage Inspirational thoughts, I have them weekly. One day I just decided that I’d write it down as some kind of speech. Now I’ve decided to rewrite it as a blog. But in essence it’s the same thing that I originally wrote down.

First off, I will acknowledge the fact that everyone has a different way of approaching everything, whether it is a problem, job choice or anything else, so I will start this off by stating that what this says may or may not work for you personally. Everyone’s way of dealing with life differs from person to person. So, I won’t bother trying to sell that what I am about to say is true for you.

Goals

I know an excellent thing for everyone (and everybody does it, consciously or otherwise) is to set goals. Goals are a way of knowing what you want, and having an idea of how you are going to get it. One’s position always influences the goals one has; a position also changes the way to reach certain goals. Your position could determine if the goal you have could mean more or less work for you. So, why should anybody ever even bother to tell anybody what a “good goal’ is? Quite frankly, no one should. No one has any right to tell you what you can or cannot do, or can or cannot achieve.
For that reason, I’m not going to bother going into what a “good” or “bad” goal is, but just for the brief I’m trying to make I’ll just list some examples: gaining a college scholarship, graduating college, a job promotion, a good/successful relationship with a partner. Goal setters are recognized as outgoing people, and if you really want what you’re setting your goal for, you will achieve it, one way or another.

Wishes

I also firmly believe that everyone should wish less. Wishes should be made only once in a great while, over a birthday cake, or on a shooting star. Wishing is the wanting something without having the initiative or determination to go and get it yourself; it’s wanting something that you think you can only gain with the help of a Divine Other. Wishes are over-used, and are often a big waste of time. But as humans, we can’t help but wish for things that are impossible to achieve, like wanting to speak with an ex-President…whose dead; or wishing that a puppet would turn into a real boy. Wishing is a way of wanting things that are completely out of our hands, with no exceptions.
Wishing less is something that someone with a high self-esteem and self-loving person is smart should strive for; because wanting things that are impossible can only make you be disappointed and discontent with life.


Dreams

Now dreaming is something we all need to do often, but like all things it can be over done, and like all people, the limit line is different for everyone. But I think I can safely say everyone needs to dream more often. It can be looked at as a more healthy form of wishing, though it’s not really even close if you think about it.
We have established that the art of wishes are people hoping for things that are completely out of reach, and often times impossible: like winning the lottery. Dreams on the other hand, are when you want something that is possible to have, and there is a clear way of getting whatever it is (in a lot of cases, dreams can be the beginnings of a goal.) Dreaming is thinking up a goal before the goal has been set.
Dreaming is what makes a lot of people push harder, to do better and be better. What we dream about, (and how often) determine the type of people that we are.
Dreamers can be good-natured people that are always trying to do better. But like most wishes, some dreams don’t come true too. Usually the reason for this is even if you do all you can do to reach your goal, and dream with all your might, there is a chance that it can all go down the drain. How you take your failure that determines what kind of a dreamer you are: Whether you are the disappointed or the ordinary kind.
The worst thing that you can probably do when a dream spoils is to blame yourself when it happens. I think a lot of stuff we all want (70% to 90%) have portions that are another person’s choice. So even in dreaming you’re still relying on someone else to get what you want. 70% to 90% of one dream needs someone else’s positive action to make your dream come true. Blaming yourself on “wasted” dreams, breeds resentment, and restlessness. I believe one of the worst things anybody can do is blame yourself when something is out of your control. But that doesn’t mean you can be irresponsible.
Everything isn’t your entire fault, but sometimes it is you that shattered your dreams. But it isn’t common that a situation is caused totally and utterly by one’s self.
So, dream more, be responsible, and don’t blame yourself needlessly.




Caring

We all need to care about something. What you care about makes you a better person; whether you are caring about others like family, you partner, or children. Caring and doing good go hand-in-hand. If you really care you do something. And when you do something, it causes change, and things can only change for the better if you care. Caring for something gives you a goal and you dream about what is the best way to achieve that goal, and caring about your goal, keeps you focused. And when you’re focusing on a goal, you’re doing something and you’re working on making your dreams come true.
If we all cared more, we can make better children, better families, better neighborhoods, better communities, and a better world.



“Do no Evil”

The last and probably the most important things to add to my list are to “Speak no evil, hear no evil.” “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” “Hurt no others in ways that you yourself would find hurtful.” “What is hateful to you do not to you fellow man……” “….desire for your brother that which (you) desire for (yourself).” “Bless is who preferreth his brother before himself.” *
You would think with it written in so many ways in so many places, it would be catching!
The saying “speak no evil, hear no evil” the one that means the most to me would be the "speak no evil", but the one most people need is the “hear no evil” since we are all gossipers at heart and like to hear when someone else has it as bad, or worse off than we do ourselves, it makes us feel better about our own situation.
“Speak no evil.” Everyone does it. Gossiping (again), back-talking, lying, cussing, telling unkind truths in hurtful ways, the list is endless.
Words can’t break bones…they hurt more. The people closest to you, can break you more easily and more thoroughly than anything in the world; and it’s their words that hurt more than anyone else’s. Because the people close to you know the most about you, they are the people you trust to know the most about you. And they can break you, and you can break them too; which is why words from a loved one can hurt more than any stone could; because they have abused the information that you have entrusted in them to respect and to keep, and that hurt runs deep.
“Speak no evil; hear no evil…..do no evil”

* You may have noticed I’ve altered a few of the quotes to make them more appropriate for my point. The reason I changed the first saying raises a good point that I feel needs to be written. The saying is “Speak no evil, see no evil, and hear no evil” in my opinion, you need to see evil. If you see evil, and recognize it for what it is, then you have acknowledged that fact that something needs to change, then you are dreaming of something better. If you care enough to try to change whatever it is you have given yourself a goal. And you will start working on a better world, even if it doesn’t work out in this lifetime, you would have realized that the meaning of life is to enjoy the good things that are in life already, and to see if you can’t make it better.