Day 20: The Choice We Make Everyday

Time passes. Whether you are ready for it or not. Time passes, and there is no way to control it. Unlike DRVs, you can't pause time or skip through the parts of life you would rather not look at. You can't fast forward just to see what it looks like at the end and you can't rewind to happier times in the beginning. Unfortunately, life does't give us the same opportunities that modern technology gives us. In life you gotta do it the old-fashioned way: buy your ticket, pick your seat, and sit through the whole movie–for good or for bad, you gotta stick through the whole thing. And Time doesn't wait for us either. I think I have said once before that Time can pass all it wants but so many times we get stuck in a moment that has already begun to rot in our minds. And this–the not letting go, the holding on to what was–is the reason why there is a struggle–between Time and me. Because I cannot ever seem to be able to catch up with Time; I don't want to, really. I've always felt that way though. I feel as though I'm never ready for Time's passage. At times I think, given the opportunity, I would be content to live in a small sliver of my past for the rest of my life. Kind of like the whole "Groundhog Day" experience or the idea of 25 days of Christmas. Many times I wish I could relive that moment over and over again, just to never let that feeling go. Sometimes I wish I lived in a world where Time elapsed rather than passed. A world where those moments are as fresh as the lemons that grow on my grandmother's tree. Just ready for me to pluck them from my own tree of remembrance. But we don't relive. We just live. And we live in a world of stale memories. My dad is always telling me that Time is a manmade thing that we have created to try to make sense of moments, growth, change. It is our safety and sense of continuity but it is also the thing that holds us all back–as it is much easier to blame Time than to blame yourself. We could just as easily live a life without Time. But life is easier if we have Time to blame. It is much easier to blame Time for a lack of care for someone you love. It is easier to blame Time for opportunities you let pass. The baggage that Time brings with it is easier to carry than the regret we feel when we know we had the power to change what was. And so we rely on this made-up unit called Time. And we let Time pass. We let Time pass us by; and without a blink, we watch our lives slip away. Time passes, and that's life, I guess. Or at least, that's what life has become–Time. If you think about it, you never chose to be born. No one does. No one chooses to come into the world. It's a prepaid ticket for a movie you are forced to watch. And regardless, there is never going to be a way to become unborn. The only choice that we have, each day, is whether or not we choose to live. The gift of chance was given to each of us at birth–the chance to simply live. The chance to live with Time right beside us–not ahead of us nor behind us–the chance to be present. But the gift of life is something we give ourselves. It is a choice, life is a choice. You don't choose to be born–you choose to live. 

I'd Dye Without You

DIY t-shirt, Jeans: Tilly's, Sandals: Aldo, Blue sports bra

Today was a good day. There was nothing to be done, today. No homework, no forms, no applications, no auditions, no work. Nothing. Nothing to be done. And I really enjoyed having that lull that is so often absent from my life. I spent the whole day doing little things: I got sandwiches with my mom then walked on the cliffs by the beach for a while then went home and played the guitar until my aunt and grandma came over for a quick visit. I spent the evening with my friend watching old episodes of "I Love Lucy" and eating Chinese noodles. It was a successful day of nothing. I thought of nothing–only lived. Today's outfit really reflects the day, today. I wore the shirt that I used to mop up excess tie-dye dye last night with an old pair of light-washed jeans and feather sandals. It was very simple and relaxed but the colors in the shirt were bright and popped against the faded jeans. The simplicity of the ensemble made me feel free and open to a new day. 

Tomorrow, choose to live. Whatever that means to you. Choose life over the shadows that haunt you. Maybe something will happen, maybe nothing will happen. But regardless, something will feel different. Choose life tomorrow. Choose to live with Time instead of against it. You never know...

Day 19: Quite Exhausted Today...

As shocking as it is, as I made my way up the stairs and into my bedroom tonight after spending a good couple hours tie-dying a pair of old jeans and other items, I almost forgot that I hadn't blogged yet today! As I am extremely tired and feel as though there isn't anything too profound to say about my life at this point–still undecided about where I will be off to next year, still keeping on and getting by, still trying to grow and succeed, and still very excited for Coachella–I decided to share with you yet another poem/song I have been working on recently. 

It is a work in progress, entitled currently, "I Do". It's a more upbeat piece compared to the other stuff that I usually write. Nothing too extravagant; rhythm and rhyme are the primary basis of the piece. The following are two excerpts from what would be the chorus (I haven't formulated verses yet). 

"... 
I'll say it:
Two
It's just two.
Just two words for you,
I do.
I do, I'd do anything for you.
I'll tell that I'll stand beside you
Kiss your lips, I can't be without you.
Two,
I do.
...
Just say it
Too.
It's just two.
Just two words from you,
I do.
I do, just say you want me too.
Tell me that you'll stand beside me
Kiss my lips, you can't be without me
Too.
I do."

It's a little different from the style I usually write in. I tried to play with rhythm of the piece rather than other stylistic choices; just something new and different. 

Paisley Pants!

Pants: Anthropologie, Corset: American Apparel, Jacket: Forever 21, Shoes: Italy, Tan belt, DIY bow

Today's outfit wasn't my ideal spring-break-is-here-so-I-need-to-look-amazing-before-everyone-leaves-and-forgets-I-dress-awesome outfit. It was too cold to wear any items from my new spring attire. So instead I decided on my favorite paisley pants (my only paisley pants, rather) paring them with a plain white lace corset and denim jacket. I wore a tan belt and tan penny loafers to match. These particular pants are from Anthropologie which, as many know, is a fairly expensive store. However, God or the Fairy Godmother of Clothing has a way of reminding you that if you wait just long enough, no one will want what was once new and in demand and then the stuff you want will be up for grabs! That is how these pants came into my possession. I am thankful for the money spent on these pants because in the end, they were worth it as I have put them to good use wearing them quite a bit during the fall and winter seasons.  

Sorry today's post is shorter than usual. To be honest I am so mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted from this past week that this is the most I could eek out tonight. I promise that tomorrow will be filled with fun new ideas to ponder over! Until then...

Day 18: The Perfect Person

There is one very important thing that you learn when you see the ugly side of a person: there is no such thing as the Perfect Person. No matter how kind or how thoughtful or how loyal a person is, there will come a time that he/she will disappoint you–hurt you. And then you will see his/her ugliness. No matter how beautiful we are as individuals living cohesively on earth, there is ugly in each and everyone of us–a blip in the manufacturing. And I have been searching for that Perfect Person all my life. That one person who will be my shelter, my guide, and my sanity. The person who is perfect and in every way and who I can trust because I know that they are always right. I have searched for this person in my parents, teachers, friends, mentors, and copious amounts of people. And I always believed that I would one day find and cling to that perfect human. But I loss faith in that person because he/she cannot fit the mold of that Perfect Person. And up until today, I was still waiting to find that one person I could look to for that one quality that I realize doesn't exist in the human race–perfection. I realized that we are beings filled with the same about of love as we have hate, the same amount of happiness that we have anger, the same amount of beauty that we have ugly. And so, no one can possess that quality, "perfection". It's not possible. No matter how much you believe in someone, no matter how kind or thoughtful or loyal, they are not perfect and not a living soul alive can be right all the time. We are imperfect machines–drugs designed to cure but carrying with us undesired side effects. There is no such thing as the perfect person. Today wen I realized this, it scared me. It instantly made me feel as though I had lost all trust in people–in humanity. But ultimately, it helped me grow up a bit. In life, people are just people; they're not meant to be our shelter, our guide, and our sanity all at the same time. They can, however, be those things separately. Your mom can be your shelter, your father your guide, you friends your sanity. Take the good that these imperfect beings have given you and perhaps you will feel what it feels like to know perfection. As perfection is not about a single being but rather perfection is recognizing the existence of the ugly, but choosing to only see the beauty. 

 Stay UnNaked

My Little Flower Patch

UnNaked t-shirt, Lucky Brand jeans, Tan belt 

Today's outfit featured my very own one-of-a-kind UnNaked t-shirt. It is the one that I made the night before Easter Sunday. I used only my leftover egg dye to tie-dye the shirt in light green, blue, and purple. I wore the shirt today in this outfit to promote my blog. I am looking forward to creating more UnNaked t-shirts and perhaps other items as well. I wore my UnNaked shirt with worn blue jeans and a thick tan belt. I wore feather sandals on bottom. The style of today's outfit was sort a casual-hippie style. Nothing too elaborate, yet still fun. 

Thanks for reading! Happy Friday-eve and I look forward to hearing from you if you like what you see.

Day 17: Forever Must Be True (April 4th)

So today I wrote a new poem for a good friend of mine who I haven't really talked to in a while. Some time during the course of our senior year we just... drifted apart, I guess. (Forgive the cliche.) Tomorrow is her birthday. And even though a lot has changed, I still consider her one of the best friends I have ever had–and certainly the closest and longest friendship I have ever had. So many days pass now and still I really miss those moments–I guess now called memories. And in all honestly, I do believe we will be friends again.. at some point, I hope. I hate goodbyes. And it never really felt like we said goodbye... I don't know if she will ever read this, but I just really wanted to share a piece my life that has meant a lot to me for a long time–my best friend of eleven years. Though things are different now, those moments I'll never forget. 

"Some Walls are Meant to Be Broken"

Somewhere between then 
And now, we've put up a wall.
And way back when were were only ten,
I never thought that we could fall
Like this. Yeah, back when were were
Only ten, I thought that our friendship
Would never end. But now, we're 
Here–and you are there, standing on the tip
Of never again: the moments shared, 
Secrets kept, games played, adventures–just
You and me. Please understand, I was only scared.
Cause even now, you're still the only one I trust, 
Though now it feels we've become estranged.
The wall is between us, and I can't help but feel
That everything now is forever changed,
And I can't live with that, or believe its real.
What am I saying...
Only what I feel.
Some dreams are meant to die.
Some days are meant to end.
Some lives are lived asking why,
While some only ask for a friend.
And after all this, I find only one thing left to say:
Some walls are meant to be broken, 
Like the one I built with you.
I remember we said forever, 
And so forever must be true. 

It's not my best work, but it sums up a lot of what I have been feeling recently in regards to this subject. 

Hands up like ermagawd (I like to twirl)

Skirt: American Apparel, Shirt: NYC, Tights: Rite Aid, Shoes: Aldo, Socks: American Apparel, Jacket: Forever 21

Today's outfit included two new pieces that I purchased at American Apparel (the pink skirt and white socks). I'm not sure why but today's outfit made me feel like.. a tainted ballerina or a fairy or something. I contrasted the light colors of the denim jacket, socks, and skirt with black tights and my favorite RENT t-shirt. Black boots on bottom. (An unfortunate side note: The black soles of my shoes have stained the bottoms of my white socks.) Overall, I really liked today's outfit because of the contrast in colors and styles. The outfit was a balanced mix of darkness and girly frills. 

Hope you had a wonderful hump day! Comment if you like what you see. Have a goodnight!

Day 16: Falling, Revisited

This is reality. You have a dream. An ideal image of life. And then you try your best. You work. You don't sleep–you work. And sometimes you win.

But many times you don't. You fall.

This is reality. And reality is filled with people who try and try again, endlessly. People who fall down bottomless holes, with walls to slick to find holding to climb back out and yet never truly hitting the bottom. Just falling. Falling endlessly.

But life, as I have learned is all about falling. As I have said in previous posts, we are always falling. Before we walk, we fall. Before we grow a thick skin, we fall to pieces on the floor. Before the pain comes, we fall in love. And before success, we fall. And we fall, we fall and fall. We fall because there is no other option. When you have a dream that you believe in, there is no other option but to fall. You will never hit the ground–settle for the end–because the fall is better than giving up. When you fall, you have faith. Before we fell, we believed we could walk. Before the tears fell from our faces, we had confidence. Before we fell out of love, we believed that love lasted forever. And before we fell, we believed we could succeed. If we didn't believe, there would be no reason to fall. But falling, I think, is not the reason to give up. I'd rather be "falling in style" than on the ground wondering what it would feel like to be up there again. Yes, I'd rather fall forever than live life tied to the ground by chains of fear, pride, doubt, and jealousy. Because I know; I used to be afraid of falling. I have lived that. But now, today, I am new. I will fall because there is no other way to live than to fall. I will fall because I want to be free from my mind–from me. I will fall because I know, it's what I was always meant to do.

This post is really dedicated to my–and anyone else who is in a similar situation as I am–whole college/future post-high school process. It is probably one of the top stressful times we face as young people. It's like standing on the tip of a thin needle. Regardless of which way you fall, things will inevitably change in comparison to that tiny space you once occupied. You are now in endless nothing–endlessly everything. No longer confided to the tiny pinpoint of a needle (by either school, or the law, or your parents). This has been a hard process for me, and it is still no where near over. I have no idea what I am going to do once I graduate. Primarily, because I never thought I would be in the position that I find myself now. Whether good or bad–it wasn't in the script. And now I'm learning to improvise, because what else can I do? Regardless of what happens, however, I will do what is right for me, now. In the words of a note I once wrote to myself a little over a year ago,

"Don't waste your time comparing yourself to other people. You're gonna get where you need to go. In all due time. You're okay."

I dont' remember what provoked me to write this. But I can't help but believe some part of me knew it would be of significance later on.. on a day like today.

Teeny genie, Queeny weeny

Mom's pants, Bando: Studio 1220, Shoes: Aldo

Last night my mom and I did a little spring cleaning and we found a box full of old Halloween costumes and clothes my mom kept from the 80s. Things in the box included old sunglasses, boots, cheer outfits, and the pants that I wore for today's outfit. They are similar to other parachute-like pants that I own, but different in that they have little "wing-like" flaps that cover the upper part of the pant legs (it's kind of hard to explain, the picture is a better reference than my description). I liked these pants because they were very bold but the gold color gave them a sort of elegance that differs from my other parachute pants. I chose to just wear a bando on top to keep the rest of the outfit simple. I chose black shoes to match the black undertones in the gold pants. Going through your mom's or your grandma's old clothes is one of the best ways to find original pieces. It's like thrifting but its free and you are guaranteed to wear something none of your friends (or enemies) have ever seen before. Originality is something I am impressed by most in an outfit. Needless to say, I am very happy with today's outfit. Nothing brightens your day more than finding something new to wear that is entirely free and 100%
original.

Thanks for reading! See you tomorrow!

Day 15: From My Eyes

It is amazing, truly amazing, to see the changes that happen within the span of only one year in a lifetime. It feels like–though as we look around at the same surroundings with our same eyes–we are seeing everything new. Or if not new, at least different. The world looks different. Like you have on tinted glasses. What was clear is now tainted with a blue haze. What has changed? The world changes inevitably, everything does. But it is us that changes the most.

Today I spent some time during my free period walking around, reflecting–as I always do–on life and what my purpose here is. I walked towards the front of my school–to the stairs that divide the old B Building and the new E building. I stood at the outlook and gazed at the little street that intersects perpendicular to Del Mar Heights Road. You know, the one leading up to the little Mormon church at the top of the hill. I stared intently at this street and the trees planted in a line up the center divider, separating the two sides of the road. And seeing the trees today in the midst of the blooming spring reminded me of how different these same trees looked a few short months ago, half a year ago, a whole year before today. I don't mean in the sense that trees change inevitably for each season of the year. Rather I noticed the difference in my views and emotions connected to this image–just a little piece of the world that I see everyday, never paying much attention to it at all. I noticed how the changes in my life–in me–affect how I see the world. In this image, today, I saw my past two years at this school. I saw me, as a sophomore in the fog of the early morning waiting for my English teacher to unlock the classroom door, looking out onto that street, those trees, the same way I am right now. I saw me, last June on the last day of school–the preceding seniors' graduation day–post-graduation ceremony, walking barefoot along the cemented ground of my campus. Not wanting to let go of what was an amazing and awakening year. Standing in the same place I stand now, I looked out onto that street, those trees, and I thought about how different things were now. A day hadn't even past yet, but so much had changed. The trees were emerald in the golden sunset light that day. It was getting cold. But I couldn't part with the ground beneath my feet just yet. I couldn't let go. 

From year to year our world doesn't change; but the way we view it does change. We change. The way we look at a person or a street or a table. Things as simple as these, make us feel like the world is changing around us. That each year that passes is so different from the year preceding it and so on. But what has really changed? The world? I have looked at that same street for three years. And each year, each day, I see something different. But what has changed? The trees are still the same trees they were years ago. The street is still just a street. It is me. Me. My thoughts. That's what has changed. Standing here a year ago felt so different from how it does today. But it's the same place. Only I have changed.

What am I? Four years. Each year distinctly different. Each one with a purpose. What am I now, with my final year here coming to an end and nothing to call my life anymore–I am no longer the innocent freshman, the lost sophomore, the awakened junior, or the ambitious senior. What am I, now. What has changed? What hasn't changed? I am tomorrow in the views of yesterday. Tomorrow comes and I was today. And yesterday becomes a memory. Everything  is the same, but it looks so different. From my eyes.

I feel tan, man.

Vest: Flashbacks, Jeans: Tilly's, Boots: Aldo, DIY bow

Ironically, the preceding detailed description only took up about five minutes of my day. The rest of it was spent in class (of course), then meeting the mayor of San Diego with my mom, then shopping at American Apparel for some festival clothing for Coachella (11 days away!). I'm really excited to share these new pieces with you over the next couple weeks. Today's outfit featured the vest that I thrifted this past weekend. I wore it with a simple pair of ripped jeans and my black booties. 

Thanks for reading! If you like what you see, stay tuned for tomorrow and tell your friends to check it out too!

Stay unnaked.

Day 14: Regret vs. Forgiveness

I should begin this post by saying, Happy Easter–if you celebrate it. And if not, I hope you had an excellent sunday regardless. I spent the majority of my day in Easter service(s). First, at the ashram for the SRF sunrise service and then later that day at Catholic Mass with my father. One topic that was highlighted in both services was forgiveness. As the sunrise service drew to a close this morning, the speaker had us close our eyes in preparation for our final meditation. He asked us to picture someone we want to send our forgiveness to. I thought for a moment. I thought about all the people who have hurt me in the past, the people I have hurt, the people I wish I could start fresh with. But above any of my initial ideas of who to send my forgiveness, the only person I could think of who I hand't already forgiven, the one person who really needed forgiveness right now, was myself. As I have stated in previous posts, this past year has been a challenging one for me, full of change, loss, and confusion. And so much of it, I blame on myself. I blame myself for things out of my control; the things that I had no way of knowing about. And also the things that I did have control over. The opportunities that I let slip through my fingers, the shots not taken, the faith absent from action. The things that, to this day, I brood over asking myself, "What if I had done things differently?" It is this question that is the root of regret. Regret. A thing I know too well. As I one time said in a journal entry,

"It is regret that hurts the most. You know, the knowing that there was an opportunity and not taking it. That pain that comes over and over again when you look back on that one night–when your heart is in your throat and you can’t breathe. 

Regret:

It is the inability to cope with a given reality. The belief that–given a second opportunity–changing what was would fix what is. It is a feeling of helplessness–a sinking feeling. It is the panic that comes when you finally realize that what was is no longer what is. Regret is the last thing on your mind but always the first thing that will bring you to tears. It is a want–a desire to search the unknown to find that one idea you once held onto with such hope. Regret is the liquor of the soul; though ultimately destructive, the pain is lesser than that of letting go. 

Regret is the source of all pain, really. It is the time spent in the car when there was nothing. And nothing more I could do. Regret is when I realized that nothing could bring me back to that moment. No thought, no prayer, all that was left was nothing–and me. And all I could do was cry. Cry for what was and cry for what could have been. Cry for that moment, the opportunity. Cry for regret. I cried, because I couldn’t change anything. But in that moment, I could have changed everything. 

Regret is choosing fear.

It is a dream without a will. A map without a road. A bicycle without peddles, a moment without time, and hope without belief. Regret is loving a person who is already gone. It is the knowing, now. But the ignorance then. 

Regret is what fills my heart now–as I write this and as I go through each day, my life. Every day and every moment bringing me further away from the moment when I could have changed everything. Regret–to me–is courage when it is too late: a moment only caught after the director yells “cut”, a cure after disease has killed a man. 

Regret is something that will never die. Because man can never cease to wonder, “What if it happened differently?” 

Regret is what was disguised as what is. It is the inability to completely understand and yet understanding completely. And it’s because of you, you know. 

Yeah, it’s regret that’ll get you every time. If you let it, it will hold you forever, never let you go. It’s okay though, I know regret too, you know. And I still see regret when I remember that night. In the place where you once stood and where I stood only a short distance away. Had I the courage, in the presence of time, in that moment, you could have been mine. And perhaps, everything would be different now."

It was through today–Easter Sunday–that I have realized I cannot truly let go unless I can truly forgive myself. Forgive myself for what was, what I did, and what I didn't do. Forgive myself, to release the regret I have harbored for so long now. Like charity, forgiveness starts at home. If you cannot forgive yourself, you cannot expect to forgive the world. And if you cannot forgive the world, how can you expect the world to forgive you? And without forgiveness, we would loose sight of the beginning that comes as a promise with each day we are blessed with. Regret is. It just is. And nothing will ever make it go away. But it is forgiveness that can help us move forward, distancing ourselves from that place we call Regret. 

Happy Easter

Skirt: Urban Outfitters, Top: Urban Outfitters, Shoes: Steve Madden, Flower crown: Etsy, Backpack: American Eagle 

Today I wore two pieces that I bought at the Urban Outfitters in Greenwich Village almost a year ago: a pink and orange corset and a white lace skirt that I paired with my white wedges. I felt this outfit was tasteful for the today's services but also refreshing and stylistic. If nothing else, it allowed me to get out of wearing your typical "Easter Sunday Dress". Though I like dresses very much, I don't particularly love wearing them... It's a long story. Anyways, the white skirt gave a more innocent look to the outfit while the bright corset gave the piece more shape and flare. I wore my favorite–well, currently, my only–flower crown. I am looking to get another one. Hopefully one with bigger flowers and possibly red or deep purple in color. If you have any ideas where I should look, comment below please. I'm also looking for some cool places to buy music-fest clothing, as Coachella is less than two weeks away!

Again, I hope you had a wonderful and relaxing Easter Sunday. Good luck with Monday tomorrow, Lord knows we all need it. Until then, sweet dreams wonderful people of the Internet. 

P.S. "Forget regret or life is yours to miss" - Jonathan Larson (excerpt from RENT)