heroless endeavor

I have been going through my poem/quote books that I've written in and I came upon one of my favorite poems I read in high school. The author in unknown. ...And they made believe it was summer even though it was the middle of December. He leaned over and whispered, we can pretend there's an orange tress growing in the backyard if it makes you feel any better... She just stared off into what he knew was the place she went when it hurt. He held her tighter even though he knew he'd lost her. He kept his faith that someday her whole heart could be his. Racing through rich dark green fields with bare feet and high hopes, he could always recall these memories when it hurt. He slowly got up and before releasing her hand and turning to leave, he stared straight into her eyes but she was still somewhere far away, and once again whispered slowly, "we can pretend there's an orange tress growing in the backyard"...

honest words have escaped my lips. how do i speak of what doesn't exist. im rising on the inside but i know its nothing but a lie. one day i will be what i have always dreamed at least thats what i say when i drift off to sleep. i am the power that holds me back even knowing this, i can't seem to get on track.

My Jadira Isabel (her unofficial middle name I gave her though the birth certificate was done before we could add it) aka "mi macaron" had her birthday party today.. I can't believe she will be one on the 30th! I can't believe I got to witness her birth and all the little steps in between.. She is such a big girl with an attitude (just like her mama ).

It's like a drop of poison falling from your lips. The burning acid; I wish those words did never exist.  I feel each lash from your tongue, from the man that has suddenly come undone. My weak sense of self worth gets battered even more as I watch the slithering snake repeat "you are no longer the epitomy of my desire." I choke on the sting as I feel my body and mind detatch. Now watching from the outside in I see I am only seconds away from death. Physical death would be too easy. Emotional death holds tight, he knocks and somehow I foolishly answer the door                           Now I am no longer me,                                     I am no more. [My writing ...

So I went as saw The Raven yesterday, I must say I thoroughly enjoyed it. Of course I had high expectations because; let's be serious, when you take the works of Edgar Allan Poe and put it in a movie you better do a good job. I loved the dialogue and the whole take on the possibilities of what his last days were. I think I enjoyed it more than other people but it was definitely my kind of movie. Not to mention John Cusack as Poe, who would have thought?! But he does a great job. My favorite story was saved for last. I wish I could talk about it but I think it would give something away. So if you haven't seen it, go see it!!     On another note. I feel like writers from the past are quickly being forgotten by todays society. Which actually makes me kind of sad. Some of the BEST writers and stories come from the the 1800's-early 1900's. The vocabulary and the ability to describe in so much detail. sigh* Of course if you are not used to the dialogue you have to work...

My brother is my best friend! we are such dorks together. These are probably not the most attractive pictures but this is us all the time. We have the most interesting relationship. There have been numerous times when people ask "are you guys dating". You can imagine the sarcastic replies that come from us. 

no matter how many times I say thank you , believing it is still the hardest part. I've always wondered why someone would think I was beautiful. its unbelievable .