This day and age, society has destroyed the meaning of the word, just like it did with love. Soulmate is now a word thrown around everyday by people who don't understand what it truly means to be a soulmate. If asked what a 'soulmate' is, most of the human population would say something similar to or along the lines of two people destined to be together by fate; two halves of heart meeting and uniting to be together forever in love and the rest of their lives.
Romantics believe in this notion and realists scoff at it. I harbor both sentiments. I believe that soulmates exist but not in the romantic way. Well, how is that possible- to believe in soulmates but not in a romantic sense? Well, because for me, soulmates are the most real form of love out there. Being a soulmate means you have compassion and empathy and an endless love for your significant other- even if you don't want to.
The new age idea is that monogamy is unnatural. Immediately, I say- you are wrong. Why? Because there are in fact, several other animal species, besides our own, that live the monogamous lifestyle. Penguins. Seahorses. Wolves. Gibbons. Swans. Angelfish. Vultures. Turtledoves. Eagles. And a few more. So there, clearly monogamy is a very natural thing.
I personally think that those who think monogamy is unnatural- it is because they never witnessed a successful monogamous relationship. And, it's sad, but this day and age- romance has been lost because people fear to open to it. They would much rather sleep around, get STIs and STDs, have babby mamas and baby daddys. And, sure they can talk up the free lifestyle- but in the end the sad truth is- they are still lonely and one day they will wake up old and alone, with no one special to share anything with- all because they rejected the idea of monogamy. And the irony is, they rejected it so they wouldn't get hurt, but aren't they hurt being alone?
Now, let me be clear, I am not saying that having a soulmate is the answer. And, I am not saying that having a soulmate is better. What I am saying is that there is a different form of soulmate that isn't in books. It isn't the kind of stuff romance novels are made of. It is an ancient form of love. It is primal. It is a part of the human species' instinct that was lost over time as civilizations and societies began to grow.
Primal Soulmating is not love at first sight. Primal Soulmating is not two souls predetermined to meet and unite. Primal Soulmating is not a love connection between two opposites or two personality in-sync people. Primal Soulmating is not romantic. Primal Soulmating is the bond formed when one truly loves another for no purpose. There are no reasons for this love, but you feel it. You are inclined to stay true to it, protect, nourish, nurture, and develop this love even if it not wanted. You cannot control who you love.
A Primal Soulmate is often misunderstood and confused with someone who will not "let go" when the relationship is over. A Primal Soulmate is bonded against their will to another and often resent the bond. But, because it is their soulmate, they try to make it work.
So far, Primal Soulmating sounds like your typical love. Well, here is where it starts to get different. If and when a Primal Soulmating is broken, the broken heart cannot be healed. It ceases to work and it dies. The Soulmate in extreme heartbroken cases- literally dies or in some cases, stays alone for the rest of their life. When you hear someone say, they had a great love once but are still alone now- chances are they are one of the people still in touch with their primal instincts to have that connection.
Primal Soulmating is a curse. It's not something people should want or desire. Because the pain caused by a broken one is irreversible. Every heartbeat is painful and it can last for years until the numbness takes over or the heart dies. Or, if that Soulmate is lucky- they find another they are bonded to and hopefully, that love will last.
But sometimes, Primal Soulmating is a kind of love that some people should have or even deserve. Because Primal Soulmating is the purest and most selfless love in existence and if everyone loved like they did- the world would be perfect.
I fear, I haven't explained all too well what it is Primal Soulmating is. All I can say is, if you are capable of Primal Soulmating- you'll know. And, I wish you luck in love and to never have heartbreak, because I know the pain. I am one of the few capable of Primal Soulmating and for me- it has been nothing but a curse.
Friday, August 15, 2014
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Death is never fair, neither is true karma- So take what you want.
I was talking with a coworker of mine. She said she recently began speaking with an old elementary friend that she lost touch with. While reunions are touching and sweet, this was not. But, not because they realized how they changed and had little in common- that was not the case. The reason why the reunion was not sweet was because my coworker learned that her friend had been shot four times by her baby's daddy- but she survived- only, to be diagnosed with brain cancer. ..... That is some serious bullshit.
How do you survive four bullets only to be diagnosed with brain cancer? Why does life spare you the quick death of bleeding out, only to give you a prolonged miserable suffering with brain cancer?
Now, you may say- well maybe they deserved it? Karma is a bitch. My coworker says this woman was good, and since I don't know her personally, I have no choice but to believe that this woman was good. So going along with that idea- why? Why do the good people always suffer and the bad people get whatever they want?
My coworker said, if you think in the biblical sense, it makes sense that bad people are happy because this is their true prize. They have earthly happiness, but in the afterlife will be punished. So then I said what about the good people? When do the good people get what they deserve? When they die? That's bullshit. How am I going to be happy when I'm dead? I'll be dead. Can I enjoy the sunny beach when I'm dead? Can I enjoy silk sheets on a California sized bed when I'm dead? And, what about when I am reincarnated? I'm going to have to go through all the bullshit of learning morality and such just to decided whether or not I want to lead a good life and not get what I deserve or leading a life of selfishness and crime and worrying about my shitty afterlife. What part of all this is fair?
Following the reincarnation idea: If I lead a life of good and don't get what I deserve in this life- then I am supposed to get it in my next. But following the rule of reincarnation- I won't remember who I was and what I did so, how do I know I truly deserve what has happened to me or what I have? I mean this train of thought also goes for if I chose to be bad. Because likewise, if I have a shitty second life, I'm going to wonder what the hell I did in my previous life to deserve this one.
So why not lead a life of crime if I can get away with it? Why not use people? Why not take what I want and what I can get and even more? Why do I have to be good, when karma isn't guaranteed? Why do I have to be good and suffer while everyone else gets to play? Why do I have to be good when everyone else is bad? Why do I have to be good?
How do you survive four bullets only to be diagnosed with brain cancer? Why does life spare you the quick death of bleeding out, only to give you a prolonged miserable suffering with brain cancer?
Now, you may say- well maybe they deserved it? Karma is a bitch. My coworker says this woman was good, and since I don't know her personally, I have no choice but to believe that this woman was good. So going along with that idea- why? Why do the good people always suffer and the bad people get whatever they want?
My coworker said, if you think in the biblical sense, it makes sense that bad people are happy because this is their true prize. They have earthly happiness, but in the afterlife will be punished. So then I said what about the good people? When do the good people get what they deserve? When they die? That's bullshit. How am I going to be happy when I'm dead? I'll be dead. Can I enjoy the sunny beach when I'm dead? Can I enjoy silk sheets on a California sized bed when I'm dead? And, what about when I am reincarnated? I'm going to have to go through all the bullshit of learning morality and such just to decided whether or not I want to lead a good life and not get what I deserve or leading a life of selfishness and crime and worrying about my shitty afterlife. What part of all this is fair?
Following the reincarnation idea: If I lead a life of good and don't get what I deserve in this life- then I am supposed to get it in my next. But following the rule of reincarnation- I won't remember who I was and what I did so, how do I know I truly deserve what has happened to me or what I have? I mean this train of thought also goes for if I chose to be bad. Because likewise, if I have a shitty second life, I'm going to wonder what the hell I did in my previous life to deserve this one.
So why not lead a life of crime if I can get away with it? Why not use people? Why not take what I want and what I can get and even more? Why do I have to be good, when karma isn't guaranteed? Why do I have to be good and suffer while everyone else gets to play? Why do I have to be good when everyone else is bad? Why do I have to be good?
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Unexpected Things; Mardi Gras
People can have several best friends. Yes, it is possible. I have my crazy best friend, my solid best friend who is a rock in this world, my worst best friend, my school best friend, my gay best friend, my work best friend, and my best friend who knows the deepest dark and painful parts of my heart.
My school best friend, Abe, and I have bonded over many things. I can't even begin to remember how it is we first met or became friends. But, I remember we spoke about promising to go to Mardi gras together one day. And, we did. After years of putting it off because we were either in school or too broke, we went. We experienced Mardi Gras 2013 and it was amazing.
We stayed with a friend from college, George. George moved down to New Orleans last year to pursue stunt work for movies and he's quiet successful. I'm glad someone is achieving their dream. But, we stayed with George to cut costs of our visit down, and thank god, because while rent in New Orleans is ridiculously cheap, food and gas are expensive as hell.
I can't be sure what I expected when I went on this vacation to Mardi Gras. To be honest, I figured I would be disappointed because that is always my luck. I invest too much hope and believe in something and it almost always lets me down, but this time... this time was so different.
I have traveled to many places. I love traveling. Not to experience new things, but to see new things. I've been to Puerto Rico, Costa Rica, Canada, Equador, Mexico, and several Caribbean islands. I've been to Texas, Philadelphia, West Virginia, California, New Jersey, and Georgia. I've been on several vacations where I never had to worry or stress about anything. Yet, once I touched down in New Orleans... something in me changed.
I felt.... light. I never felt so free before in my entire life. I had no tethers to hold me down, nothing to upset me. I felt good for the first time in my life.
Something about the vibe in New Orleans settled me. It was like I was washed in cleansing aura. Which is strange because I am very in tuned with paranormal energies, but in the city of the dead, I felt nothing. And, all the energy I felt was calming, which is amazing coming from a toxic stressful and angry energy city like New York.
New Orleans made me feel content. I even finished a script, in 10 days. That is amazing for me. The only downfall about Louisiana so far are the bugs the size of birds. Totally not cool. But, ignoring the fact that the bugs could probably grab me and fly away with me, I was happy and I feel different. It's been days since I've been back to NYC and I haven't flipped out yet. I told my coworkers they should take a gambling poll and take bets on what is going to set me off first. I'm curious myself to see when I'll snap back to my angry toxic self.
But, enough about my soul finding. Let me tell you about Mardi Gras and the French Quarter. First off, for those who have seen Disney's "The Princess and the Frog". I found the frog, maybe I should have kissed him? Well, I will say this. I kissed two strangers during Mardi Gras. I figured if I wasn't going to have meaningless sex, I should atleast kiss ONE person. But, Imagine my luck. I kissed an Irish guy on the last day of Mardi Gras.
I visited the voodoo museum which literally consisted of 2 bedrooms or photos, articles, and props. One of which was the Marie Laveau wishing stump. Both, Abe and I, partook in the experience. We each offered a dollar bill. I know, cheap, but we're both broke. Marie Laveau would understand.
And, while I did not visit the great graveyard that houses Marie Laveau's remains. I did walk in a cemetery. And, not to be weird, but they are beautiful.
See evidence below.
BOURBON STREET, was where I found the most pure good hearted energy. You can get away with not flashing to get the beads, but to get the good ones, some sacrifices must be made. But, let me explain to you how Bourbon Street works. You can either be the people above on the balcony or the people below on the street. Which you choose to be, determines whether you get beads or give beads.
People on the balconies pay from a range of 35 to 60 bucks a night to sit and be the masters of the beads. Restaurants, bars, and clubs purchase the beads in bulk and hang them on the balcony for the customers to throw down to the masses below. The masses below, need not pay any fee. They are the ones that need to earn the beads by begging, being lucky, catching someone else's beads, or flashing. And, yes. I did flash. I was in total and complete Mardi Gras spirit- minus the sex quota of the experience. Also, the unspoken rule, but the rule that everyone seems to know automatically, the beads don't count if they fall on the floor. You can only wear the beads you have caught. There is no prize for who has the most beads, but you do seem to feel proud of yourself if you have a lot.
I'm not one for parades because they usually tend to be just a whole bunch of people marching. Totally boring. But the parades for Mardi Gras are an event that people camp out for. Mardi Gras is technically the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday, one day. But, Mardi Gras is a week long event, leading up to that Tuesday, which is the last day of the celebrations. Each day leading up to that final Tuesday has two different parades. So each Mardi Gras has about 20 to 25 different parades, which each parade having 30 to 35 different floats, and when I say different. I mean different. I attended two different parades on two different days. One theme was "Tuck" and another theme was "Bacchus". I have no clue what they mean, and I don't quite feel like looking them up. But, these floats were beautiful and artistic. And, guess what? They throw beads, cups, and cheap toys out to the spectators. Again, the same rules apply. If the beads hit the ground, they don't count. But, you don't flash at the parades, because this is the family friendly version of Mardi Gras celebrations.
I cannot begin to convey how alive I was in New Orleans, but I was extremely happy and I want to stay that way. Instead of moving to Los Angeles next February, I want to move to New Orleans for two years first. But, I have to convince Niea, who is supposed to move with me to Los Angeles, to move there with me first. I'm hoping she says yes, because I need to have a security blanket, and Niea is supposed to be that for me. Moving to a new place is a big step, and while I am brave, Im not sure I would move to a new place alone. Especially, if I have to share an apartment with people I don't know.
I just hope my plans fall through.
My school best friend, Abe, and I have bonded over many things. I can't even begin to remember how it is we first met or became friends. But, I remember we spoke about promising to go to Mardi gras together one day. And, we did. After years of putting it off because we were either in school or too broke, we went. We experienced Mardi Gras 2013 and it was amazing.
We stayed with a friend from college, George. George moved down to New Orleans last year to pursue stunt work for movies and he's quiet successful. I'm glad someone is achieving their dream. But, we stayed with George to cut costs of our visit down, and thank god, because while rent in New Orleans is ridiculously cheap, food and gas are expensive as hell.
I can't be sure what I expected when I went on this vacation to Mardi Gras. To be honest, I figured I would be disappointed because that is always my luck. I invest too much hope and believe in something and it almost always lets me down, but this time... this time was so different.
I have traveled to many places. I love traveling. Not to experience new things, but to see new things. I've been to Puerto Rico, Costa Rica, Canada, Equador, Mexico, and several Caribbean islands. I've been to Texas, Philadelphia, West Virginia, California, New Jersey, and Georgia. I've been on several vacations where I never had to worry or stress about anything. Yet, once I touched down in New Orleans... something in me changed.
I felt.... light. I never felt so free before in my entire life. I had no tethers to hold me down, nothing to upset me. I felt good for the first time in my life.
Something about the vibe in New Orleans settled me. It was like I was washed in cleansing aura. Which is strange because I am very in tuned with paranormal energies, but in the city of the dead, I felt nothing. And, all the energy I felt was calming, which is amazing coming from a toxic stressful and angry energy city like New York.
New Orleans made me feel content. I even finished a script, in 10 days. That is amazing for me. The only downfall about Louisiana so far are the bugs the size of birds. Totally not cool. But, ignoring the fact that the bugs could probably grab me and fly away with me, I was happy and I feel different. It's been days since I've been back to NYC and I haven't flipped out yet. I told my coworkers they should take a gambling poll and take bets on what is going to set me off first. I'm curious myself to see when I'll snap back to my angry toxic self.
But, enough about my soul finding. Let me tell you about Mardi Gras and the French Quarter. First off, for those who have seen Disney's "The Princess and the Frog". I found the frog, maybe I should have kissed him? Well, I will say this. I kissed two strangers during Mardi Gras. I figured if I wasn't going to have meaningless sex, I should atleast kiss ONE person. But, Imagine my luck. I kissed an Irish guy on the last day of Mardi Gras.
I visited the voodoo museum which literally consisted of 2 bedrooms or photos, articles, and props. One of which was the Marie Laveau wishing stump. Both, Abe and I, partook in the experience. We each offered a dollar bill. I know, cheap, but we're both broke. Marie Laveau would understand.
And, while I did not visit the great graveyard that houses Marie Laveau's remains. I did walk in a cemetery. And, not to be weird, but they are beautiful.
See evidence below.
BOURBON STREET, was where I found the most pure good hearted energy. You can get away with not flashing to get the beads, but to get the good ones, some sacrifices must be made. But, let me explain to you how Bourbon Street works. You can either be the people above on the balcony or the people below on the street. Which you choose to be, determines whether you get beads or give beads.
People on the balconies pay from a range of 35 to 60 bucks a night to sit and be the masters of the beads. Restaurants, bars, and clubs purchase the beads in bulk and hang them on the balcony for the customers to throw down to the masses below. The masses below, need not pay any fee. They are the ones that need to earn the beads by begging, being lucky, catching someone else's beads, or flashing. And, yes. I did flash. I was in total and complete Mardi Gras spirit- minus the sex quota of the experience. Also, the unspoken rule, but the rule that everyone seems to know automatically, the beads don't count if they fall on the floor. You can only wear the beads you have caught. There is no prize for who has the most beads, but you do seem to feel proud of yourself if you have a lot.I'm not one for parades because they usually tend to be just a whole bunch of people marching. Totally boring. But the parades for Mardi Gras are an event that people camp out for. Mardi Gras is technically the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday, one day. But, Mardi Gras is a week long event, leading up to that Tuesday, which is the last day of the celebrations. Each day leading up to that final Tuesday has two different parades. So each Mardi Gras has about 20 to 25 different parades, which each parade having 30 to 35 different floats, and when I say different. I mean different. I attended two different parades on two different days. One theme was "Tuck" and another theme was "Bacchus". I have no clue what they mean, and I don't quite feel like looking them up. But, these floats were beautiful and artistic. And, guess what? They throw beads, cups, and cheap toys out to the spectators. Again, the same rules apply. If the beads hit the ground, they don't count. But, you don't flash at the parades, because this is the family friendly version of Mardi Gras celebrations.
I cannot begin to convey how alive I was in New Orleans, but I was extremely happy and I want to stay that way. Instead of moving to Los Angeles next February, I want to move to New Orleans for two years first. But, I have to convince Niea, who is supposed to move with me to Los Angeles, to move there with me first. I'm hoping she says yes, because I need to have a security blanket, and Niea is supposed to be that for me. Moving to a new place is a big step, and while I am brave, Im not sure I would move to a new place alone. Especially, if I have to share an apartment with people I don't know.
I just hope my plans fall through.
Friday, January 18, 2013
Lonely Little Witch
Yes, I know; the title of this post sounds like a children's story. But, it's not. I don't even call myself a "witch", yet it is what people refer to me as. I am Pagan. I don't practice magic spells or stand over a cauldron mixing elixirs to help me. Yes, there are Pagans that do that and yes, that makes them witches. But, I am not one of them- not that that is a bad thing. I would gladly exercise witchy qualities- if I had my own place and space to conduct them.
My point for this post is to express how lonely I am- being Pagan in this day and age. I am the only Pagan among my friends. I have no coven or group to go to. I've tried to look online for groups- because I genuinely want to learn the truth behind the mysticism of most Pagan beliefs. Alas, I have found are frauds- hippies pretending to be in tuned with Mother Earth so it gives them an excuse to smoke weed, do shrooms, and dance naked in the forest. That's not Pagan- that's ridiculous. All these false believers- impostors pretending to know things, when all they do is read ancient books and quote them to try and sound mysterious.
I want a teacher to help me learn where the stories come from. I want them to sit me down and explain why these herbs work best for this and not that. I want my teacher to take my hand and lead me down a forest path to show me a fairy ring. But, I know this is all wishful thinking.
Current times prevent people from burning me at the stake, but religious people still frown upon anyone who does not believe in the "one god". Does my religion really make me that much of a different person? I am still human. I still have feelings. I still have morals.
Why, then am I treated so different? I wear my belief on my sleeve- literally. The pagan star is tatted on my wrist. You can't miss it. I have seen many people eye it with distaste. That is not fair. I don't scoff at your crucifixes on your throats. Mind you- the cross is a more morbid symbol than the pentagram.
Many people believe that Paganism is Satanism and they could not be more wrong. I do not worship Satan or Lucifer. I worship nothing but the Earth and its wonders. But, the monotheistic religions that govern 85% of our world would lead its people to believe Paganism and Satanism are the one and same, but it is false.
I truly believe that one day when I am long dead, Paganism will rise as the one true religion again. It is the one religion that does not persecute. It is the one religion that accepts all as they are. It is the religion that allows everything to just be.
I wish I could see it one day... that glorious day when truth is spoken and the Earth is healed. But, until then I just pray for a teacher who is not a false practitioner. I also wish that I was not judged for my beliefs. Judge me for my mean demeanor, but not for my religion. I can handle being lonely because I am perceived as a bitch, but I cannot bear to be sad because others cannot respect my beliefs and fear me because of their ignorance.
I am lonely in my beliefs and I wish I wasn't.
My point for this post is to express how lonely I am- being Pagan in this day and age. I am the only Pagan among my friends. I have no coven or group to go to. I've tried to look online for groups- because I genuinely want to learn the truth behind the mysticism of most Pagan beliefs. Alas, I have found are frauds- hippies pretending to be in tuned with Mother Earth so it gives them an excuse to smoke weed, do shrooms, and dance naked in the forest. That's not Pagan- that's ridiculous. All these false believers- impostors pretending to know things, when all they do is read ancient books and quote them to try and sound mysterious.
I want a teacher to help me learn where the stories come from. I want them to sit me down and explain why these herbs work best for this and not that. I want my teacher to take my hand and lead me down a forest path to show me a fairy ring. But, I know this is all wishful thinking.
Current times prevent people from burning me at the stake, but religious people still frown upon anyone who does not believe in the "one god". Does my religion really make me that much of a different person? I am still human. I still have feelings. I still have morals.
Why, then am I treated so different? I wear my belief on my sleeve- literally. The pagan star is tatted on my wrist. You can't miss it. I have seen many people eye it with distaste. That is not fair. I don't scoff at your crucifixes on your throats. Mind you- the cross is a more morbid symbol than the pentagram.
Many people believe that Paganism is Satanism and they could not be more wrong. I do not worship Satan or Lucifer. I worship nothing but the Earth and its wonders. But, the monotheistic religions that govern 85% of our world would lead its people to believe Paganism and Satanism are the one and same, but it is false.
I truly believe that one day when I am long dead, Paganism will rise as the one true religion again. It is the one religion that does not persecute. It is the one religion that accepts all as they are. It is the religion that allows everything to just be.
I wish I could see it one day... that glorious day when truth is spoken and the Earth is healed. But, until then I just pray for a teacher who is not a false practitioner. I also wish that I was not judged for my beliefs. Judge me for my mean demeanor, but not for my religion. I can handle being lonely because I am perceived as a bitch, but I cannot bear to be sad because others cannot respect my beliefs and fear me because of their ignorance.
I am lonely in my beliefs and I wish I wasn't.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Family Legacies and Traditions
Close knit families have legacies and traditions to pass onto the next generation. Some even still have heirlooms to pass down from generation to generation. I think about my family and what it has to offer my generation and the ones after.
Divorce... is a tradition. I know, how can divorce be a tradition? Well, out of all the eight marriages in the generation before mine, six have ended in divorce. Of the remaining two, one is still a happy and strong marriage, the other is only held together because the husband refuses to give up. So, now you can see why I say divorce is a tradition- negative, but a tradition. So, I don't hold high hopes for a successful first marriage. I've accepted it.
Strong familial ties- definite legacy. My Chinese side and my Spanish side may be different in many ways, but the one thing that they have in common is the strong belief in family and the motto blood is thicker than water. No one matter who did what, how evil, stupid, or selfish a member is- if they asked for help, they would get it. No one believes in abandoning family on either side.
Strong personalities in women- legacy. From both sides of my family all the women are strong. There are three shy ones, but all in all, we are all dominant and able to take care of ourself and our own.
Traditions... I cannot think of any, but I have decided to start one. All who bear the name "Nieves" and are part of it, will tattoo a custom designed snowflake. For those of you who need explaining: Nieve in Spanish means snow. So, I was the first in the family to tattoo a snowflake on my wrist. I customized it to fit my personality. The branches end in arrows because I am a Sagittarius and there is a pagan star in the center because it is my true belief. I've already told my father, stepmother, and sister, Maria of the new tradition I am creating. They are all for it. They will design their own snowflake tattoos and carry on the tradition.
Heirlooms... My Spanish grandmother has many things given to her by her mother and grandmother. The oldest and probably most important to my grandmother is the Sagrada Bible. It's a bible in Spanish issued to them by a church. The bible has the most beautiful, colorful images. And, there is a section in the bible itself to record your family tree and history (baptisms, weddings, funeral, births, etc.). Flipping through the history of my family, I have learned my I have many French ancestors; and, the names Basilia and Cruz were once our family names.
I still desire to meet the oldest of my living ancestors just to see if they would approve of me. I want to know what they would say about me. I can't explain why, but it is something I truly want. I also want enough money to hire a genealogy investigator to look up my family history and ancestors to as far back as they can. I want to know where we came from. I want to know my families' past.
Divorce... is a tradition. I know, how can divorce be a tradition? Well, out of all the eight marriages in the generation before mine, six have ended in divorce. Of the remaining two, one is still a happy and strong marriage, the other is only held together because the husband refuses to give up. So, now you can see why I say divorce is a tradition- negative, but a tradition. So, I don't hold high hopes for a successful first marriage. I've accepted it.
Strong familial ties- definite legacy. My Chinese side and my Spanish side may be different in many ways, but the one thing that they have in common is the strong belief in family and the motto blood is thicker than water. No one matter who did what, how evil, stupid, or selfish a member is- if they asked for help, they would get it. No one believes in abandoning family on either side.
Strong personalities in women- legacy. From both sides of my family all the women are strong. There are three shy ones, but all in all, we are all dominant and able to take care of ourself and our own.
Traditions... I cannot think of any, but I have decided to start one. All who bear the name "Nieves" and are part of it, will tattoo a custom designed snowflake. For those of you who need explaining: Nieve in Spanish means snow. So, I was the first in the family to tattoo a snowflake on my wrist. I customized it to fit my personality. The branches end in arrows because I am a Sagittarius and there is a pagan star in the center because it is my true belief. I've already told my father, stepmother, and sister, Maria of the new tradition I am creating. They are all for it. They will design their own snowflake tattoos and carry on the tradition.
Heirlooms... My Spanish grandmother has many things given to her by her mother and grandmother. The oldest and probably most important to my grandmother is the Sagrada Bible. It's a bible in Spanish issued to them by a church. The bible has the most beautiful, colorful images. And, there is a section in the bible itself to record your family tree and history (baptisms, weddings, funeral, births, etc.). Flipping through the history of my family, I have learned my I have many French ancestors; and, the names Basilia and Cruz were once our family names.I still desire to meet the oldest of my living ancestors just to see if they would approve of me. I want to know what they would say about me. I can't explain why, but it is something I truly want. I also want enough money to hire a genealogy investigator to look up my family history and ancestors to as far back as they can. I want to know where we came from. I want to know my families' past.
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Thanksgiving 2013, Texas, Reflection
I never spent Thanksgiving with my Spanish side because we live in different time zones. My father is a gypsy, moving his home every couple of years, usually within the Texas state vicinity, but also sometimes different states such as Florida and Oregon. Since, he mostly stays in Texas, my grandmother moved down to be closer to her grandchildren. Her sister moved to Texas to follow her. And, her sister's daughter moved with her children to follow her mother. (Talk about chain reaction or follow the leader). So, basically all my Spanish family members live here in Texas, a state a despise. Yes, despise. I'm sorry, Texas and Texans. I, genuinely without a doubt in my mind, HATE Texas. It's hot; it's boring; you need a car to get everywhere; no one is ever outside because it's too damn hot. I will NEVER live in Texas.
But visiting.... visiting is a different story. When I stay with my grandparents, I feel the most relaxed. I am accepted. I am cared for. I am left alone. I am considered in decisions they make. I love visiting my cousin Alaina, who has the hands of a god in the kitchen and the heart of a gentle saint. I love talking to her and just letting lose all the bottled emotions I had. She has always treated me as an adult and equal. She is so loving and cares for everyone, but it is rare anyone lifts their hands to help her out. So when I am on vacation, I go to her house and help her often with anything and everything she needs. And, I don't feel obligated to do so. I do it because her company makes it enjoyable and because she NEVER once has asked me to help. In fact she tells me not to help because I am on vacation. But, I do, because I know that what little help I offer her, will be her only vacation.
My immediate family (father, stepmother, brother, and sisters) are now divided. Maria lives with her mother (my ex-stepmother) near my grandmother. Sandy lived with my grandparents. Ashley lives with her fiancee, Robert, in Austin with his grandparents. Only Tony and Connie still live with my father and stepmother, Bonnie. Every one of them loves me and I love every one of them. Maria and I have spent the most time together. Out of all my siblings (twins included), Maria and I are the most alike. She is now at an age where I can interact with her as an equal, not an older sister who is in charge. She took me out to drive the car for practice and shopping while I was here. And, even though Sandy and I are under the same roof, we are both loners. She sticks to her room, and I stick to the dining room table. (Back in NY, I am cooped up in my room. I like the feel of being able to stretch my legs and escape a cage. So, whenever I am in Texas, I rarely stay in my designated room.) Tony and Connie are still at the ages where I am still the older sister. I cannot interact with them as equals. Tony is a rambunctious, smartass, who has some trouble with authority and keeping his mouth shut. And, Connie is a shy mommy's girl, who is also still babyed because she is the youngest of us all.
I was never a good sister. I will not pretend to be. I cannot be. I wasn't raised to be emotional or sensitive. I was raised by a Cancer Zodiac sign. And, for those of you who don't know what that means. It means that Cancers are one of the most sensitive people out there, but they hide it, so no one knows. I was raised to be tough and keep my weaknesses to myself. My father raises his children to free with their emotions and embrace them. I actually am very uncomfortable with hugs, which is a huge problem because my father and family here are big on hugs and affection. And, I'm sure it seems like I'm a very cold person. But, I just cannot. It's not how I was raised. It's not me. I'm a better friend than sister. Which is why I love it when my siblings reach the age of sibling equality. The twins, Maria, Ashley, and I can all joke and hang out as equals. But, my younger siblings I am still at a loss at how to interact and deal with. I love them, but I cannot show it.
I love them, and that is why I put aside my OCD at least once during the visit to stay at their home. Which is a real hardship for me. The home is not in anyway ideal for me, my OCD, or my health. So, I often leave the place with asthma. But, I do it at least once because I know it will make them happy, my being there. Even if I just sit there in silence; I am still there- it is the most I can do for now. And, I hope they understand.
But, I came for my first Thanksgiving here, because of my LA plans. This coming year, I don't plan on going anywhere besides Mardi Gras in February. I need to start saving everything I can for the big move, and I figure I won't be fully settled and financially stable in LA for two years, so I definitely won't be traveling anywhere to visit anyone from 2014 to 2016. So, I figured this is my last chance for a definite chance in a real Thanksgiving with my Spanish family. And, I am so glad I did. I saw everyone and it wasn't a really big affair, but just to see people interact was heartwarming.
My grandmother and her sister are hilarious sisters. They were stabbing each other with forks and calling each other fat. My father was calling our cousin Alaina, fat. Alaina said my father's facial hair reminded her of a dirty vagina. Zach, Alaina's youngest son, was on holiday leave from the army and he brought hom other Army strays (soldiers) to celebrate the holiday and he was still as crazy as ever. The soldiers ship back tomorrow and invited me to hang out, but I was too exhausted and a little uncomfortable with a group of people I didn't know. Not to mention I can't drink because of my severe asthma lately. (Total joy killer, having asthma.) I took my cousin Derek got his first tattoo. He's a 5th grade teacher and in his mid forties. He got a tribal Sagittarius tattoo on his left shoulder blade. He made funny faces of pain throughout the entire inking. My grandaunt (Grandmother's sister) Lulu, had a huge tear in the back of her jeans and she was out in public. While driving with Maria, a crazed car popped up behind me and flashed their lights. I thought for sure we were going to be killed and drove like a maniac, which I think scared Maria more. I met Ashley's fiancee for the first time and they seem happy, which makes me happy. My cousin John gave me a welcome hug of his own accord. My grandmother ran a red light. I pulled a move my mother would have done and did a fast left turn before a car could get in front of me, and scared my father half to death.
I always have good memories when I come here and spend time with them. Watching them all makes me happy, when normally in my boring mundane life, I am just content. I enjoy it beging here, surrounded by warm love. But no matter how many times my father asks, I would never live here. I like a place where there is a deli 2 minutes walk away. I love being in a place where I can walk to work and not die from a heatstroke. I like being able to order delivery. I cannot live in Texas.
I love my family but, I need to love myself, and follow my dream. I need to leave my family to love myself. I will cherish the memories I have made this holiday.
But visiting.... visiting is a different story. When I stay with my grandparents, I feel the most relaxed. I am accepted. I am cared for. I am left alone. I am considered in decisions they make. I love visiting my cousin Alaina, who has the hands of a god in the kitchen and the heart of a gentle saint. I love talking to her and just letting lose all the bottled emotions I had. She has always treated me as an adult and equal. She is so loving and cares for everyone, but it is rare anyone lifts their hands to help her out. So when I am on vacation, I go to her house and help her often with anything and everything she needs. And, I don't feel obligated to do so. I do it because her company makes it enjoyable and because she NEVER once has asked me to help. In fact she tells me not to help because I am on vacation. But, I do, because I know that what little help I offer her, will be her only vacation.
My immediate family (father, stepmother, brother, and sisters) are now divided. Maria lives with her mother (my ex-stepmother) near my grandmother. Sandy lived with my grandparents. Ashley lives with her fiancee, Robert, in Austin with his grandparents. Only Tony and Connie still live with my father and stepmother, Bonnie. Every one of them loves me and I love every one of them. Maria and I have spent the most time together. Out of all my siblings (twins included), Maria and I are the most alike. She is now at an age where I can interact with her as an equal, not an older sister who is in charge. She took me out to drive the car for practice and shopping while I was here. And, even though Sandy and I are under the same roof, we are both loners. She sticks to her room, and I stick to the dining room table. (Back in NY, I am cooped up in my room. I like the feel of being able to stretch my legs and escape a cage. So, whenever I am in Texas, I rarely stay in my designated room.) Tony and Connie are still at the ages where I am still the older sister. I cannot interact with them as equals. Tony is a rambunctious, smartass, who has some trouble with authority and keeping his mouth shut. And, Connie is a shy mommy's girl, who is also still babyed because she is the youngest of us all.
I was never a good sister. I will not pretend to be. I cannot be. I wasn't raised to be emotional or sensitive. I was raised by a Cancer Zodiac sign. And, for those of you who don't know what that means. It means that Cancers are one of the most sensitive people out there, but they hide it, so no one knows. I was raised to be tough and keep my weaknesses to myself. My father raises his children to free with their emotions and embrace them. I actually am very uncomfortable with hugs, which is a huge problem because my father and family here are big on hugs and affection. And, I'm sure it seems like I'm a very cold person. But, I just cannot. It's not how I was raised. It's not me. I'm a better friend than sister. Which is why I love it when my siblings reach the age of sibling equality. The twins, Maria, Ashley, and I can all joke and hang out as equals. But, my younger siblings I am still at a loss at how to interact and deal with. I love them, but I cannot show it.
I love them, and that is why I put aside my OCD at least once during the visit to stay at their home. Which is a real hardship for me. The home is not in anyway ideal for me, my OCD, or my health. So, I often leave the place with asthma. But, I do it at least once because I know it will make them happy, my being there. Even if I just sit there in silence; I am still there- it is the most I can do for now. And, I hope they understand.
But, I came for my first Thanksgiving here, because of my LA plans. This coming year, I don't plan on going anywhere besides Mardi Gras in February. I need to start saving everything I can for the big move, and I figure I won't be fully settled and financially stable in LA for two years, so I definitely won't be traveling anywhere to visit anyone from 2014 to 2016. So, I figured this is my last chance for a definite chance in a real Thanksgiving with my Spanish family. And, I am so glad I did. I saw everyone and it wasn't a really big affair, but just to see people interact was heartwarming.
My grandmother and her sister are hilarious sisters. They were stabbing each other with forks and calling each other fat. My father was calling our cousin Alaina, fat. Alaina said my father's facial hair reminded her of a dirty vagina. Zach, Alaina's youngest son, was on holiday leave from the army and he brought hom other Army strays (soldiers) to celebrate the holiday and he was still as crazy as ever. The soldiers ship back tomorrow and invited me to hang out, but I was too exhausted and a little uncomfortable with a group of people I didn't know. Not to mention I can't drink because of my severe asthma lately. (Total joy killer, having asthma.) I took my cousin Derek got his first tattoo. He's a 5th grade teacher and in his mid forties. He got a tribal Sagittarius tattoo on his left shoulder blade. He made funny faces of pain throughout the entire inking. My grandaunt (Grandmother's sister) Lulu, had a huge tear in the back of her jeans and she was out in public. While driving with Maria, a crazed car popped up behind me and flashed their lights. I thought for sure we were going to be killed and drove like a maniac, which I think scared Maria more. I met Ashley's fiancee for the first time and they seem happy, which makes me happy. My cousin John gave me a welcome hug of his own accord. My grandmother ran a red light. I pulled a move my mother would have done and did a fast left turn before a car could get in front of me, and scared my father half to death.
I always have good memories when I come here and spend time with them. Watching them all makes me happy, when normally in my boring mundane life, I am just content. I enjoy it beging here, surrounded by warm love. But no matter how many times my father asks, I would never live here. I like a place where there is a deli 2 minutes walk away. I love being in a place where I can walk to work and not die from a heatstroke. I like being able to order delivery. I cannot live in Texas.
I love my family but, I need to love myself, and follow my dream. I need to leave my family to love myself. I will cherish the memories I have made this holiday.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Shade's Children, Being Unknown, & Injustice of Experience
As you all know, I am an author of short stories and movie scripts. My ultimate goal is to be a movie star and screenplay author. So, what is a nobody like me supposed to do to get my material out there? I'm part of the Writers Guild of America. I have scripts floating around out there, but alas, because I am a nobody, no one will want to give me a chance.
So, I try a different path. I decide to write a screenplay for one of my favorite books: Shade's Children by Garth Nix. I first emailed Garth Nix, telling him of my intentions. I told him I wanted to write a screenplay for his book. I was a fan of the story and I thought it would be great if fans could see a live action rendition of it. I told him, since I am a fast writer I would be done with it in two months max. I told him I wanted his blessing, etc. Garth Nix never emailed me back. Undeterred, I wrote the script in less than two months. I had several friends read it, and they all loved it. I wrote to Garth Nix once again, and told him I did what I said i was going to do. I wrote the screenplay for his book. I received an email back from him saying he was flattered I was a fan, but he should have gotten permission first, and that he is currently in negotiations now with a production company to pen a screenplay.
Of course, at the moment I wanted to kill him and myself. If he wasn't an inconsiderate person and replied to my first email, then I wouldn't have wasted my time. But, then I remembered 90% of the human population don't take others seriously when they say they are going to do something. It is only when they are in fact threatened in some way that they decide to take some sort of action. So naturally, having the knowledge that I wrote the screenplay for his book, shook him. He probably thought to himself, how dare this nobody write a screenplay for my book? But, you know what. I did.
I wrote a full screenplay based EXACTLY on his book. With of course a few flares of my own personality in there. But nonetheless, it is a flawless script for his book. He waited until I threatened his ego as a writer to speak with me, and will guess what. I'm outing him. My blog may not be read by many people, but if someone searches Shade's Children and movie, this post is sure to pop up, and might possibly get read. So, that is enough for me.
It's sick how people ask for people with more experience, and at the same time refuse to give people the opportunity to learn. If Garth Nix was a true genuine person who wanted to support others, he would give me a chance. The same could be said of his publishing company whom I also contacted. What is so wrong with taking a few hours to help someone who might be good?
I would have complied in every way to get my script into production. I have no problems saying it was based on Garth Nix's novel. And, even if he wanted to change a few things in it, I would have been fine with it. I just want my name on screenplay because I wrote it and it was good. But, no. Authors with egos are just another member of pool of jerks that reside in the world. But that is fine, because I'll find another way to win and in essence get revenge. Because no one screws with me and gets away with it. I don't forgive and forget. I get even and I enjoy revenge.
So, I try a different path. I decide to write a screenplay for one of my favorite books: Shade's Children by Garth Nix. I first emailed Garth Nix, telling him of my intentions. I told him I wanted to write a screenplay for his book. I was a fan of the story and I thought it would be great if fans could see a live action rendition of it. I told him, since I am a fast writer I would be done with it in two months max. I told him I wanted his blessing, etc. Garth Nix never emailed me back. Undeterred, I wrote the script in less than two months. I had several friends read it, and they all loved it. I wrote to Garth Nix once again, and told him I did what I said i was going to do. I wrote the screenplay for his book. I received an email back from him saying he was flattered I was a fan, but he should have gotten permission first, and that he is currently in negotiations now with a production company to pen a screenplay.
Of course, at the moment I wanted to kill him and myself. If he wasn't an inconsiderate person and replied to my first email, then I wouldn't have wasted my time. But, then I remembered 90% of the human population don't take others seriously when they say they are going to do something. It is only when they are in fact threatened in some way that they decide to take some sort of action. So naturally, having the knowledge that I wrote the screenplay for his book, shook him. He probably thought to himself, how dare this nobody write a screenplay for my book? But, you know what. I did.
I wrote a full screenplay based EXACTLY on his book. With of course a few flares of my own personality in there. But nonetheless, it is a flawless script for his book. He waited until I threatened his ego as a writer to speak with me, and will guess what. I'm outing him. My blog may not be read by many people, but if someone searches Shade's Children and movie, this post is sure to pop up, and might possibly get read. So, that is enough for me.
It's sick how people ask for people with more experience, and at the same time refuse to give people the opportunity to learn. If Garth Nix was a true genuine person who wanted to support others, he would give me a chance. The same could be said of his publishing company whom I also contacted. What is so wrong with taking a few hours to help someone who might be good?
I would have complied in every way to get my script into production. I have no problems saying it was based on Garth Nix's novel. And, even if he wanted to change a few things in it, I would have been fine with it. I just want my name on screenplay because I wrote it and it was good. But, no. Authors with egos are just another member of pool of jerks that reside in the world. But that is fine, because I'll find another way to win and in essence get revenge. Because no one screws with me and gets away with it. I don't forgive and forget. I get even and I enjoy revenge.
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