Tag: creative
I, the Spectator: Create and Destroy
I, the spectator
See the world a canvas
An empty canvas
Where we see, we feel in our own perspective
The world is but a perception of the spectator
We create the stories
The stories of the people we encounter
The Landscapes we see
and the moments we capture
I, the spectator rule over anything I place on my empty canvas
The spectator quiet and observing
Creates and Destroys
In our own heads, through our own eyes
We are the creator and the creation
We speculate and we analyze
We criticize and we televize
Just passing by
We view
We observe
We witness
We look
We recreate everything that is perceived
We are the spectators
I Set Free My Quarantined Sanity
My nerves spilled and scattered on the pavement
I couldn’t gather them as I trudged and dragged my exhaustion to class that day
Last October
I carried what I could of last night’s sleep, maybe 3 hours, and the anxiety, a monster growing in the pit of my stomach drowning me till the world seemed like a blurry smudge painting
My last year of college came to me like a ton of bricks delivered to my front doorstep
My life turned into a war since I started to worry
Every
Single
Moment
Of
Every
Single
Day
My perfectionist tendencies paired with the thoughts of deadlines…no motivation…and a fear of tomorrow. It made a nice soup ready for panic, don’t you think?
I stirred myself daily but still seemed to make it to every class, do every assignment, and manage a research project
That’s how I was last year
I sat in a office with a woman I told myself to maybe once a week hoping that my fear of living will transform into something else
That’s how I was last year
When I reminisce and think back, I feel how I felt, that numb yet nervous feeling
I can still feel it there, lingering
Last year, I didn’t want to wake up to the sun rising and I didn’t triumph for completing 3 years of college
Instead…
I dreaded the thought of every day coming, long days turning into long nights, a hungry stomach, and the quarantine I built around my sanity
That was last year
I don’t know how I seemed to make it a whole year later though
In the midst of the strains and labor pains of reality, I managed to give birth to a project
This project spiraled in me October of 2015 until it was born
I named her SparklyWarTanks
I made her to fight back
To win the war
To let my sanity free
Every time I wrote something I saved myself and I took another ingredient out of the soup
I typed, pounded my fingers on my keyboard, to explain the motive for the birth of something new in me
I wanted to save another woman’s life while saving my own too
I wanted to burst out and say:
“Take care of yourself, take care of your mind, and your body!”
“You are important and you matter.”
“You are powerful and worthy, and beautiful. You don’t need anyone to tell you.”
Of course those were messages I needed someone to tell me, but instead I became the billboard
The more I wrote, the more I felt the walls crumbling, the walls crowding and containing my sanity were falling
I found the key to the cage of my anxiety which surrounded my quarantined sanity
In october of 2016, grown into an adult, SparklyWarTanks evolved into a vision, into a foundation for women empowerment and mental health, one project exploded into a space, a place, a sanctuary to be safe
My anxiety transformed its face into the partner of ideas and the employer of a plan, it turned into passion.
So as I write, I write to the woman who hates herself and to the one with depression, I write to the woman with the eating disorder and to the ones living on the streets, I’m writing to the ones going through a midlife crisis and self-realization, I write to the mother and to the survivor, I write to the women who hurt and the ones who are stressed, I write to the powerful women and the ones making a difference, I write to the lawyers, and doctors, and writers, and motivators, and to our future
I write to support our next generation of women
That we stand up for ourselves and never hold our sanity hostage
That we declare our independence from expectation and perfectionism
That we defend ourselves and fight for our will to wake up peacefully and unafraid
If I could sum up how I’ve changed from last year to this year, I would simply say
I let my sanity free
A Personal Confession
These words came with tears so I hope you can sympathize. This is depth therapy:
Lately I’ve really been hating my body but through the lens of my mind coming out my eyes. A portal of perspective. Hear me out.
This is not one of those “pick your head up because things will get better” but a “this is a real life struggle kid so learn from it” pieces so look at this…
Just one picture can twist the notion of a once fooled concept of self-acceptance because you thought you began to love “the skin your in” but the reality of it is…
the concept is once you begin it can never regress but my regression looks so good it resembled progression like walking backwards I wanted to say “I love you” but instead I said…
I thought I got over the feeling that my thighs are not the size of the American dream or the white picket fence or the its not what it seems, but its the rugged and thick concept of oppression and prejudice, the judgemental reality that not all words are the truth or not all smiles signify happiness but covering up the reality because the sacred is watching you, you want to see the day where the light is so bright that all this will soon fade away into an oblivious sense of brainwashing…
I thought I would wake up and it would be one of those dreams where you were running from a symbol of your subconscious fears but its not because the tears were real and so were those people
The ones that said that they want you and would stay, but that was just you talking to yourself because you have to really learn to mean what you say in your head like I will start that today and I will end that tomorrow but you don’t…
Instead you give excuses and let your self-talk ruin your self-image constantly digging the hole you call home
But this ends today
The body that was once in ruins under the ashes like pompeii will rise and become the volcano that took you from existence. You are no longer going extinct or becoming a personal museum for onlookers to talk or to taste but you will climb from your ashes into an unknown place.
You will not be scared to be strange or to not fit in because you are the one who is meant to change the existing archetypal skin, the status quo, and the origins.
Today marks a holiday where you declared your independance and come back from war, where you remembered what was and proclaim that your dead exterior will fall and let your new interior reveal itself.
You are not what you were yesterday and tomorrow you will be better than right now. So if you hate your body now, start the process to make that perception change tomorrow.
If you were looking for your purpose in life stop looking because its to be who you are to the people you encounter. There’s no other purpose but to continuously labor on yourself even if that means sleepless night and uncomfortable situations.
Life is not meant to work for others, but to work on yourself in the pursuit to become something that will shatter negativity, punch fear in the face and to help others in that same process.
You have work to do so I suggest you take one day at a time to appreciate all that you are because no one will be ready for the power that will be you in the future.



