Stop. Breathe. Remember God's Simplicity...

In some ways, I miss the company given by apartment walls. I have grown up and moved out since a child, but when I visit my mom, I remember what I did not like about apartments and the one thing I do.  To those who have never been given the privilege to live in one, let me educate you in saying that each wall has a story: the wall in my kitchen tells me of a woman and her two children Dinner is in an hour, not a big snack! Mom! Tell Nicole to give me my necklace! She TOOK my necklace! she sometimes yells, and her sigh always precedes it as if helpless and exasperated I never hear a male voice One wall in the main bedroom plays television crime shows, all day, all night. CSI, NCIS, LAW & ORDER, JUDGE JUDY, JUDGE MATHIS emotionless, dull, aloof, solitude, sadness My sister's bedroom wall is quiet during the day, Role play and improvisation laughter and bed squeaks rehearsal at night curtain call around 2 The bathroom walls conduct symphoni...

When there is no inspiration, the mind is mellow and the body remains dormant. 1000 obstacles move rapidly together, but the body moves through quick sand and hardly keeps up with the lack of progress. of desire, of motivation. To do,or write, or believe something like the wonderfully impossible as possible. That a sparrow could sing with a chorus of stars, and the fish can dance to these rhythms through Poseidon's current. Anything to pluck the strings of creativity, to remain "in tune". Anything to break the forth wall of imagination.

My words are heavy when I produce them sinking to the ground before they are heard destroyed,demolished, every minuscule word as they clash with the cement, they're condemned  I began writing my words with pencil in order to add color to my dull speech so a bigger audience could be reached but this was also the wrong utensil I learned pencil adds areas in shades of grey and causing doubt to my level of intellect the root and cause, I cannot detect so there's no importances to what I say

When I'm old, I want laughing wrinkles to form like the rings inside tree trunks, collecting wisdom, and age over time, but telling a story of the series of heart aches, and trials and how they were washed away by joy, of being loved by a loving being, and the feeling of every problem being a mole hill. They will leave their mark on my skin, carved with the utmost care. I want the world to see that my sadness never became a part of me, but my smiles did.

I feel that we are no better than Judas. How often do we practice betrayal? We sell out Jesus for petty treasures For friends, with school, over-consumption of alcohol, lies,ridicules,gossip, adultery, through the movies we watch and music we listen to. No matter how compassionate, and understanding He is, We betray him, And above all else, seal it with a kiss.

Two for one special. Oh how special am I? I feel heartless, full of emotion but no where to put it. How did this happen? This has never happened to me before! Oh God, You are so comical. Hilarious!! Give me a moment to stir up laughter. Sorry I didn't laugh sooner, I've just been drop kicked to Tim-Buck-Two and pimp slapped with a two-by-four. But hey, this is life, yes? You told me what I needed to hear, and I heard what I wanted to hear. My fault, I get it. So now what? After all is said and done, I'm still cornered with limited options. I'm scared. I'm nervous. Who do I go to for advice? Because I am thought of as being strong, and the strong are never weak, and the weak can never help the strong, so who do I turn to? ... .. . I am pathetic.

Salinas, sister of Escondido and Elsinore. I am with you always. No matter where my nomadic feet wander off to, you draw me in, and I feel that comfort I have not felt since I was a child. You are my home. My center of gravity. The street fair musician's drum beats rhythmically with my heartbeat. I breath in tune with the childrens' laughter. It's remarkable how happy a community is without money or earthly treasures holding them down. My ears bleed at the sound of your name stripped of genuine welcome and battered by drivers and pass-byers. The bubblegum scars and aged beauty does not fool me. You're beautiful to anyone who stops to learn. You may not be perfect, but you show true contentment. Show me the sweet majesty of imperfection, Salinas, and I'll inhale deeply.