So Grimey.

Dec 21

lovesarahkate:

♥♥♥

(Source: mycorneroftheuniverse)

Via, lovesarahkate

Apr 01

Soy una mosca en un baso de leche.

[I’m a fly in a glass of milk]

I can’t believe I’ve only been on this trip for two days. It feels a lot longer both emotionally and physically. Wednesday we drove to NYC. I still have a love-hate relationship with that city. I think those words are a tad too strong. Possibly a like-dislike relationship. I like to think that I can pull off the confident facade fairly well, but that city gets under my skin. I don’t know why, or how, but it does it. I feel severely inadequate and as if i stick out. I’m not fashionable enough. Not thin enough. Not good enough. I hate that feeling. I detest it with a passion. And it doesn’t help having these facts thrown back in my face. The day had a variety of ups and downs. Today we drove to Connecticut. Biggest waste. UConn felt dead and depressing. I felt like no one was happy there and the people weren’t very friendly. It was too big, too impersonal, and just not me. Not to mention I felt paranoid about being a tad too brown there. I wanted to turn around and run the moment i got there. Thank god we didn’t even stay for the info session. The drive to Hamilton was looonggg, but lovely. Times like those is when i wish i took pictures. being up here makes me want to take up photography in order to capture some of the images. The countryside on the way here was beautiful and it made me feel a ton better. My mom always tells me to air out my bed and room when I’m sick to get all those bad feelings out. I like to think that the drive here with the window’s open did the same sort of thing. I got to this town and its a drastic difference from the other two cities i’ve been in so far. I like it a million times more. Its cute and small and quaint. It’s manageable. But do you know what did terrify me? The school. It was a cocktail of terror, excitement. and anxiousness that threatened to make me yak without any of the positive effects. The majority of the people here are white, pretty, preppy, rich, and thin. (notice a trend of me being uncomfortable and feeling self conscious). I love the campus, its gorgeous. It’s beautiful and it makes me want to spend days on the grass near the pond while listening to music. But I’m worried of not fitting in. My twelve year old insecurities are out in full force the last couple of days. It kills me. I try really hard to keep these jittery nerves undercover, but apparently there has been a mini mutiny in my system. I don’t know what i’m going to do. I’m feeling overwhelmed and i already had to phone a friend in order to calm myself. I think a self peptalk and some strong coffee will boost my courage? hopefully? and possibly seeing someone who isn’t pretty and/or is bigger then i am. yeah. that might help me too.

Feb 20

I stare at paper for hours at a time.

Itchy fingers need to write yet lacks vocabulary to make speech worthy.

Jul 02

We do not see things as they are, we see them as we are.

— Anais Nin

Jul 01

A Stumble, Crash, and Burn Down Memory Lane.

I’m staying in a room that i haven’t slept in for years. High school was marked by me moving downstairs to the basement and getting farther away from my parents. I got more space, a bigger bed, and the ability to do whatever the hell i wanted with my own floor of the house. Middle school had me living in the two small rooms upstairs connected by a door. I got the front half of the second floor and i thought it was one of the greatest things ever. Elementary school: twin bed. pink walls with the “sponge” technique. an armoire that took up about half of my room. barbies stashed underneath my bed to make room for books on my shelves.

I’ve now come full circle. I’m in the summer of my junior year in high school and will be applying to colleges come fall, and i am now laying in a twin bed surrounded by memoriablia of someone else’s childhood. I remember when i used to sneak into my parents room to sleep with them. I remember being scared of the dark and acting like i wasn’t so i would be allowed to watch tv with my dad. I remember when i used to dream of being 13, then 16, then 18. Growth has been marked by room changes, bed changes, life changes. I’m going to be in a twin sized bed come next fall after i have spent over seven years avoiding laying back in one. silly circle.

Jun 26

“People are never more insecure than when they become obsessed with their fears at the expense of their dreams.” Norman Cousins

I’m worried about my class. I want to do so well but its so intimidating that i’m scared that i’m going to fuck up. I filmed the majority of the doc today. I’ve been asked several times what its about and this is what i keep just cutting and pasting:

i’m doing a story on a mother and daughter that both work on the same floor at the school of communications building.
mom = maria. immigrant from el salvador. cleaning lady. daughter = ellen. born here. goes to college. works as a receptionist on the same floor as her mother. a lot of talking about generational differences.maria has been here for about 25 years. but is still learning english. and she never went to school. she left el salvador because of the war and used to work in the fields. she came illegally ( the story is wicked. like.. crossing rio grande, going in through houston, walking for days straight ) and then became a citizen.and then the story of ellen. 3rd daughter of the family. first born in US. educated. working. talking about growing up with immigrant single mother for a parent, and the fear of losing that culture and appreciating it. the interviews were mostly based on developing those two characters. B roll film was more just action shots of what they did during the day. i’m shooting more monday and maria is getting me some pics of elsalvador. and the film will most likely be in spanish with subtitles and excerpts from ellen’s individual interview in english.

thats what i always say. but i feel like its so much more then that. i may or may not post my final product up on here. i still don’t know if i want to share.

I love my sister. She’s always there to support me and champion my cause. I can always rely on her to be in my corner, bringing me my towel, water, and coaching me on how to knock out the next big bad obstacle in my life. I swear I would have been knocked out by now if it wasn’t for her. I love you sis.

Jun 25

I’m losing my culture. I’m losing what i have identified myself as and have prided myself on for so long. I’m forgetting how to speak spanish. I’m taking for granted the fact of being hispanic. and it worries me. i feel like if i lose that part of me i don’t really deserve to call myself hispanic. or latina. i’m just a spanish-american. another one of thousands of immigrants’ kids that forget their roots. My tounge gets stuck and I forget words. It sounds more like spanglish now instead of spanish. i don’t want to forget the language. its my grandmother’s language. its my mother’s language. its my language. or at least it was.

Jun 24

(via furk)

Via, furk

Mar 21

wordboner:

I Just Don’t Understand Why Do You Have To Be Such a Prick [texture by sanami276]

Via, wordboner

So Grimey.

I stare at paper for hours at a time.

A Stumble, Crash, and Burn Down Memory Lane.

“People are never more insecure than when they become obsessed with their fears at the expense of their dreams.” Norman Cousins

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