To understand no matter how good or bad the past year was, next year will be better

The new year is such an amazing time isn’t — a time for reinvention, the time you feel like anything is possible. Even though you may feel like everyday is a struggle. The new year brings with it hope. I think everyone needs a little bit of that in life. This year my goals, my hopes, my dreams are completely different than lasts. They have to be — because things have changed so much.

For one maturity is changing me.  Heartbreak has changed me. Reality has changed me.

This exact time last year – I had just spent the perfect night with the man who I thought was going to spend the rest of my life with. I remember so vividly sitting on his friends couch – as he wrapped his arms around me and slid his fingers over my ringer finger- indicating that I was going to be his forever. And that excitement lit a fire in me that I thought would last forever. It didn’t of course – young love has a way of tricking you.

But in that instant, that start of that new year – I had so much hope. And I knew things would change as every year they do in some way but, I didn’t know how.

I didn’t know – the home we shared together, the job I spent my whole life looking for, the dreams I had falling into place could so suddenly be flipped upside down. One day – things just changed, he changed, I  changed, and I’m not really sure when or why… but I guess no one does – maybe I just opened my eyes.

Maybe I decided to stop letting people take advantage of me, or maybe I just gave up trying.

But anyways – I wish I had a crystal ball a way to know if what I want in the new year will actually come true. Will something really good happen, something bad?

Will I lose all the weight I want to – will I meet that special someone who I will actually spend my life with, will I get the promotion I want or will I have to move and pick up my life once again. Will I be nicer, stress less — so many questions, so many changes, so many possibilities.

As every year goes by I’m learning – we need that hope – to understand no matter how good or bad the past year was, next year can be better, will be better. We as humans need a marked start date for success- okay here is the start of the rest of my life. I hope in the new year I can learn to cherish everyday, because if 2014 has taught me anything is that – life will kick your ass – life doesn’t owe you anything – and it can all and by all I mean everything be taken away in the blink of an eye.

That’s not a morbid way to think of things, its honest – and a beautiful way I think. I would not have all the amazing things I have in my life right at this very moment if not for a series of events that led me here. At the time I either loved or hated those events but both made me a better person – and therefore I wish I had cherished my time with them more.

I had no idea ‘he’ was going to break my heart. I’m sure he had no idea I was going to break his — but maybe if we each spent a little more time focusing on the beauty of right now — right then — might have been a little better.

Wasted Dreams

Where do all our wasted dreams go?

Do they wash up on the shore like an embattled horseshoe crab tired of fighting?

Do they get placed on the back shelf of some forgotten library?

Henry Fuseli- Oil on Canvas (1781)

Do they get buried underground consumed by the earth, like the crumbling brick and mortar of an old abandoned factory?

Or do they just lay in patient wait, like a snake in the grass ready to attack their prey when least expected.

Tell me; tell me where do our wasted dreams go?

Do they dwell in under the underground sewers of New York and Los Angeles?

Do they turn into salty tears that rush down the faces of the ones they have turned their backs on?

Or do they become removed like a viscously torn out hook lure in a fishes mouth?

Wasted dreams, tell me where did you go?

You were once all we had. And you left.

Where did you go?

Amor Eterno

Dear Dreamer dear dreamer

I want you to fight

Do not deter from

Your fair upward flight

And wear your heart

In beauty unknown

Dare not to forsake it

My love you are gold

Dear dreamer dear dreamer

I know you believe

For the good things in life

Are the ones gone unseen

But hold your gaze

In mystery lies

You are brave my beloved one

Now jump up and fly

Dear dreamer dear dreamer

You always have a home

In the shelter of my arms

Feel the warmth through my bones

And when the day comes you can no longer see

The brush of wind

Should bring you closer to me

Dear dreamer dear dreamer

I am right by your side

You know I will love you

Till the day that I die

And I pray that you cherish

My dearest unknown

Please not forsake it

My love you are told

Demon, Demon

Lilith (1892) by John Collier in Southport Atkinson Art Gallery (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Demon demon
Where you lay?
Will you come out and play today

I fight so hard to make it right
But I am betrayed upon your site

I won’t let your darkness take away
The part of me I wish to stay

And as you ponder your ways of deception
I will will be bathing in faith as protection

Demon demon go away
I will not come out and play today

*C

Why I write: Preface to my Blog

I am amazed that so many of you took the time to read my first post. Not only did you read it, you responded to it.

Giving me caring advice and the motivation to keep moving forward and well… that means more to me then you will ever know.

See the thing is I write because it is the only way I can make sense of the relentless and unruly thoughts in my head. Some people would call it insanity, some anxiety. Certain individuals would call it brilliance, and others typical.

Call it whatever you would like,

I just call it me.

The infinite thoughts and boundless dreams that swirl around in my head is like trying to find my way through a large maze every day; habitually confusing, and irksomely dogged.

But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

That is why I write.

Writing is like taking a huge vacuum and sticking it into a profound part of your being that no one else can understand or reach.

That vacuum, a pen, allows you to suck to the surface emotions, feelings, and regrets and create out of it something tangible.

This apparatus, this tool allows you to reach farther than you ever could on your own. Allowing you find things, nestled in the crevices or buried underneath the couch that you never knew were there.

Yes, most of what you pull out from the vacuum in the end is unpolished dirt, and dust. But sometimes you find something bright like a penny, or special like that graduation ring you lost ten years ago that you assumed was gone forever.

It reminds that you that every day you have to take a little time and make the effort to dig through the shit (excuse my lack of a better word) to find with any luck something of value and beauty.

But you have to take time to see. Good or bad, that vacuum, well its cleansing. Everyday my fingers typing across keyboard, is freeing it allows me to reset. To be reborn.

To think that so many want to read what I have to say.

Confounds me.

You often can feel so small, so alone. You forget that there are others out there who want so badly to connect with something, to connect with you. What more in life can you hope for then to have someone hear what you have to say and be moved by it in some way.

So in the end, I hope you enjoy what I write. I hope it invokes something in you, whether you love it or hate it I just want you to feel.

My reasons for this blog are truly not to impress anyone, but to just be genuinely me.

NYC heartbreak

Moving to New York City, about two months ago, I had just graduated college with hope in my heart and aspiration in my belly.

I was sick of people telling me that real life was going to suck, more than anything I wanted to show them just how not “sucky” life could be.

When I was offered a big girl job at a consulting firm in the city I thought my graduate prayers had been answered, considering most of my friends were currently in graduate school, underemployed or even worse unemployed.

My college roommate lived in Upstate about 80 minutes away from the city by train, and her family said I could move in with them just for a month or two until I got on my feet.

The plan was that come November (currently 10 days from now) I would be out of there and in my own place living the Sex in the City, rich girl in Manhattan, no holds bar type of life.

At least in my head.

In real life no one had warned me how outrageously expensive, or overwhelming the city can be.

It engulfs you, swallows you whole, and seeps you down into the pit of its belly waiting to see if the acid will burn you or push you forward.

I’m currently unsure of where I lie in that digestive track.

See maybe it was crazy and really really stupid of me, but my intentions were good.

Its not like I just packed up my bags with no job, or no place to live (not saying there is anything wrong with that). That’s just not me, I am a planner, a dreamer, but a planner.

Kind of a contradiction, but truth.

And for once in my life I did not want to let my brain and pinpoint practicality get in the way of what I really wanted out of life.

Which was to succeed, to make a difference.

To show to everyone who ever told me that a small town girl would always be a small town girl, that they were wrong.

That big dreams were not impossible for small people.

Although so far my dreams of success in New York City are sucking hardcore, I refuse to let my so called “naivety”  , and don’t get me wrong I know I am naïve (today I told my boss they were fixing the facade (FA-kade)  on the building, she laughs and corrects me,

“Its fəˈsɑːd, where did you graduate college again?”,

Anyways I refuse to let that get in my way.

See that is the girl from the suburb of Massachusetts in me.

I am the girl who does not know how to pronounce fancy New York towns like Stuyvesant, who does not know the difference between Uptown, Downtown and whatever in-between town, and who before making one of the largest decisions of her life to move to NYC had only stepped foot here twice.

But I am the girl, I guess I should say woman now, who was up for the challenge.

Maybe it was crazy to dream big, to follow what I thought I wanted.

But my parents also told me if I could dream it I could do it.

So I dreamed it.

Right now its hard to still follow that dream.

When I moved here I had money in my savings, an “almost” boyfriend who was the first guy I ever really saw a future with (which he doesn’t know and probably wont ever now), excitement for my job and optimism for the future.

As each day has gone by, that has all dwindled bit by bit away.

Currently I will be homeless in two weeks, well homeless by New York standards.

My parents have made it clear that I will be welcomed home anytime (which is tempting, no rent, my moms Italian food, my bed, no stress).

Although my stubborn headiness which my mom claims I get from my father and my father from my mother, is keeping me where my dreams are trapped, in NYC.

Currently I am really freaked out and stressed about what to do, the planner in me is going what the hell did you get yourself into, but I feel if your not fighting to stay a float, fighting for what you want….. then your not really living anyways.