El

que se enoja pierde.

Atlantis

There's a humongous disconnect between actions, words, and who one really is. While it's easy to use the right words and do the what's 'noble', reasoning is what I see as important, and consistency in who you claim to be and who you really are.

Whether you're protesting a gas station, arguing socialist theories with big words and obscure ideas, or working for a non-profit (any, any, as long as it's not making profit right?!), I'd be interested in your reasoning behind all of this and marvel at the discontinuity often found.

While it's obviously not my place to judge, I appreciate consistency in a person; it gives me a more accurate insight to who they really are. I've met so many self-proclaimers and tricksters, claiming glory and self-righteousness on the basis of good for mankind. Why, though? Thoughts regarding The Fountainhead swim through my mind as I wonder why anyone does the good that they do. Would you go through life doing 'good' deeds if no one ever knew it was you? If no one acknowledged you, praised you, stared at you in awe as you somberly told them that you work for no money, that you pass no judgment, that you believe in fairness and equality and this that and everything else 'good'?

Down to business-- the disconnect.

I'm amazed at those who argue for the greater good; those who advocate for human rights, protest the man, fight for the underdog, and beg for more compassion for our brothers and sisters of the world... then turn around and treat their neighbors with such negativity and disrespect that it makes me wonder if they even understand what they're arguing for.

I have been told that the only people who intentionally cause suffering are those who are suffering themselves. I try to make decisions in my life that would spare me from hurting another human being, and am shocked when I see that this isn't the case for everyone. Why one would want to be the cause of hurt is a sickening mystery to me.

Know yourself and know your reasons. Help for the sake of helping; we are all connected on this planet and each person I encounter in life deserves just as much respect as the next. I do not help for self-gratification and I do not care if anyone thanks me or praises me for what I have done, but I do hope to alleviate some suffering in this world and make my impact and time here as positive as possible.

Down to business-- honesty.

I want honesty. Be who you are and I would love to be around you. Who is 'you'? Bad writing and no one in particular. The connection between actions, words, and reasoning always intrigues me and I watch with a close eye for those honest souls who want to do good just for the sake of good, those who aren't wrapped up in the hype of a trend or the glory of becoming the savior. Be who you are, a humble, mistake-making, constantly learning student of life, and take me with you so that we may grow together not in something distorted or convoluted, but in something clear, simple, and true.

I find a fatal flaw in the logic

There's a part of me that always wants to hold on to what's lost long after everyone else has forgotten about it. Old enough to know better, still too young to care. Or young enough to care too much.
People are seasons, and the more I forcefully try to hold on to them, the more they slip away. That's the beauty of it.

October

October is promising to simultaneously be the most stressful and epic month of the entire year.

The weeks leading up to November 2 will kill me if they haven't started to already. I'll look forward to the finish line and the end of the elections, hopefully with Prop 23 nowhere in sight. My distaste for public speaking makes announcements and class raps painful. I'm going to give myself an ulcer.

On the plus side where the grass is greener, I'm going to spend a glorious weekend adventuring around Santa Cruz, San Francisco, and Berkeley with an Arcade Fire concert to top it all off. My life will be complete.

Back to the not-so-fun sector, I'm an exec in 3 busy, busy organizations... sleep eludes me. Once again, I spread myself too thin. I'm either doing too much or not enough, but it's a fine line in my mind.

On the plus side again, my birthday is on October 6. This means two birthday parties the following Saturday: one with mommy (<3) and one Woodstock-summer-of-love-themed one with friends. I'm looking forward to good food, amazing costumes, and an epic dance sesh.

Sadly, I have yet to find a date.

Yet the good in that is that I'm still a free bird.

I have Wednesdays off from work.

But have no time to watch Modern Family

I met a bunch of fun Europeans last weekend.

But my subtle, awkward humor's lost in translation.

There are tons of amazing enviro-events coming up.

But I don't know how to be in 2 places at once.


It's a complicated and silly life I lead, a complicated and silly life indeed.

If you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair

Last week I was introduced to Craigslist rideshares by Holla. All sketchiness aside, it's opened up a whole world of cheap travel me, which is exciting.
The shady details and lack of organization are comical and my mother wouldn't be proud of me for them, but I loved it.
Our ride to San Francisco was a nice man named Arturo from Mexico. Convo recap of Thursday, AKA Day of Takeoff--
Holly: Our ride's going to pick me up first, then you, then Jared.
Lilia: Cool. Where's he at?
Holly: Uh... crossing the Mexican border. Murrrr

Interestingly enough, I didn't even realize this was odd until a few hours later, a little past LA. We sang every catchy Beatles, Bob Dylan, Queen, and Spice Girls song on the way up and got dropped off at a train station near The City on a gorgeous August day.



Jared's amazingly sweet mother picked us up and we ate at a rad organic Mexican food restaurant called Gracias Madre in the Mission District (kudos Jared). We spent the night at his fam's place where we found an epically clear patch of sky to watch the Perseid meteor shower, then left for the CSSC leadership retreat in Napa.

Once there among all of those positive and inspirational people, we shared ideas and discussed strategies to educate our fellow students about Prop 23 and the negative impact it would have on California's economy/move toward clean energy.
More in a nutshell: great organic and vegan food, learning, connecting with each other, Power Vote ed from Holly/Zen/Pam, laughter, more watching of the Perseids, random accidental trespassing into a toxic wasteland, the Hokey Pokey, puzzles, sharing of feelings, rapping, apple crumble, henna, and gittin hyphy. As usual.











After all the haze and beauty of it, the San Diego Crew still had no ride home and no prospects after plan A and B failed. I got in Pam's car which was going to SLO, hoped for the best, avoided dwelling on the fact that I had next to no money, and tried to shimmy my way as far south as possible. A little past Napa and a couple more failed attempts at finding a ride later, we found a spot in another Craigslist car, celebrated with some E-40 to be festive as we drove through the Bay, and I got my ass on the Bart to Union City Station to meet my ride, beezy.

Hours later, I took the wheel from my tired driver, waited until she fell asleep, then gunned that shit from LA to SD in about an hour and a half. Surprisingly, I still saw the remnants of the Perseids even through the lights and clouds, and it served as a lovely reminder of the nights which had passed. After getting to my house and hopping out of the car slash into bed to gear up for an 11-hr work shift, I realized that I essentially hitchhiked my way up and down the California coast for fifty bucks. As sketch as the details might sound at first, and as little sleep as I had, I honestly can't wait to do it again.

The weekend brought my attention to the constant flow of life and the beautiful way in which it resists control only to lead me to something better than I could ever initially imagine. I can't wait to learn and educate more about Power Vote, Prop 23, and refreshingly unreliable yet cheap travel.

Love

Ella le habla a mi alma.
She's my absolute favorite.

"Don't believe our culture. Our culture is screwed."

It's nothing to live one's life by.

I like it

Oh, baby do I like it. Let's find some chocolate and do somethin' sexual.

Why? Because we're gifted like Christmas.

Cee-Lo Green - I Like It
Hot Chip - Sexual Chocolate
N.A.S.A. feat. Kanye, Santogold, & Lykke Li - Gifted (Treasure Fingers remix)

Alone finally

Most days I spend my time replaying my actions. One of my life rules is to never regret, yet I find myself regretting so much of the past few months.
I haven't been completely by myself for more than 2 hours for an entire year.
I was almost afraid of what would happen when I finally found privacy in my room.
Not much surprise... I'm alone.
It's quiet aside from my own breathing. It's almost shocking not to be interrupted.

What did I think would happen once I had my own room? That the floodgates would open up, maybe. That the privacy would let me breathe. That I could take down the wall and feel a little of what I've been avoiding thinking about in depth for so long. I didn't have time... there was so much to do... but you can't love others if you don't love yourself.

Despite what I assumed might happen, I'm at a standstill. Everything is so tangled that I don't know where to start. I find distractions during the day and then cry myself to sleep over what I can't always pinpoint. When did I become so afraid? I don't want to be one of them.

I sabotaged it all. "I say there's trouble when everything's fine... the need to destroy things creeps up on me every time."

"Mr. Right" shirts and princess pants

Working with the kids has been amazing so far, even more so because they don't yet know how special they are. Every one of them is filled with the innocence and happiness that comes with childhood. It's contagious.

Their parents faces tell me they're tired. I wonder what they've been through to get here and what they've left behind, but will never get the nerve to ask.

I hope that their children don't lose their happiness-- that they keep their awe and wonder of the world they're in. That they don't let life bring them down.

I think of them every day, and the days when I wake up to see them, I think of them ALL day. Their smiles and small feet. The foreign smells of another culture, their accents and names which are so hard to pronounce.

Most importantly, I think of their trust. I already love them, and know in a few more days they'll love me back. I never want to take that for granted.

They come to school sleepy, excited, not ready to leave their mothers for the day. The boys wear princess pajamas and the girls wear shirts that say things like, "Future Mr. Right!" They don't know or care about America's cultural standards yet, and it makes me happy. We should be glad to even have clothes. There are so many more important things their parents are worrying about, and my heart aches to see the lines on their faces that I know aren't from age.

I'm dying to take photos of them so that I can remember them if they don't come back to school come fall, but I'm not sure that'd be alright. Either way, they're the only reason I'd ever wake up before 7 of my own accord. <3

Carry on, carry on

As if nothing really matters...

I still have no idea why anyone at all would put up with me, why any of my nonsensical texts ever get replies, why my ridiculous ideas and eerily bossy commands are humored, and most importantly, why anyone would put up with me.
I'm a little off, I scare easily, push too much, and enjoy showtunes... a lot. I never plan, am rarely sure of what I want, and can't multitask. I won't make breakfast, don't know what to say, and would rather watch movies alone. I'm loud and make too many dirty jokes. I love to keep, but hate being kept. And then I run, run, run.

On the plus side, I have pretty hair, have often been told I smell nice, love to give hugs, can paint a nice picture, and quote/listen to good music, according to me.

So I guess it balances out.

Hahaha. Honestly, I'm so sure of what's best for me it's almost comical to watch myself gravitate toward the opposite.

Sing it, baby.

Santa Cruz/San Francisco

I'm hiking through the forest in the dark and searching for the moon.

Singing Bohemian Rhapsody in a field at night with faces I can't make out.
Red lipstick, dresses, and bows, the epitome of all things feminine and lovely.
Finding the moon reflected in the ocean; it only gets bigger as I get further.
Smoke, cold nights, and enough trust in the world to be outside as the hours grow smaller.
G Bmin C D... simple chords are what you make them.
Riding in cars filled with music and thought, freedom and acceptance and wondering how it would feel to be in love right this second.
Learning, realizing, and understanding what's changed and what hasn't, for better or worse.
Usually for better.
Feeling lost, floating, searching for home and finding that it's where you make it.
Acknowledging that I will always be alone in a sense.
Imagining the music that could be, making plans for tambourines and practicing singing voices.
Still missing ignorance and being able to complain about having nothing to do. Missing nothing at all.
Loving the air I breathe and wondering what inspires people to say the things they do.
"Can't believe how strange it is to be anything at all..." - Jeff Mangum
Knowing it's better to stay but not being able to shake the desire to run, run, run.
Searching for the beauty in permanence yet finding it most where it won't last.
Love is a burning thing.
Art by students, art by the famous, all feeling so much.
Surrounded by wishes and wishing they'd all come true.
Adventures.
We are all made of air... there are stars in my eyes and there's sun in my hair.

On another note

I'm getting on a plane tomorrow.
Half of me thinks it's better to cut ties with people so that they learn that they don't have the right to expect things of you. The other half of me would be sad to do so because it's important that the people I care for even remotely know what they mean to me. As simple as washing my hands of people and their baggage would make things, I care too much to run. Life is fleeting, appreciate everything.


Do you realize hat everyone you know someday will die?
And instead of saying all of your goodbyes
Let them know you realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn't go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round




Beautiful.

I'm

trying hard to keep my mind even as it floats through my grasp and into places where I can't keep it anymore.
Spitefully, it pushes. It forces itself into dark rooms and corners, secretly loving the lost sense of sight.
Had I stayed in the darkness of the cave, I would have never discovered the darkness of the day.
I wonder which would have been better.
And by "better" I mean easier.
Spite creeps up on me every time and asks me whether I really want what I think I want.
Or do I want what I think I don't?
It fogs the windows and creates waves in the atmosphere, hot, humid and invisible, skewing perceptions and receptions, spotlighting my imperfections.
As clear as my wants and needs seem to me in the morning, by noon clouds hit and I'm a goner without my glasses.

New

What keeps life interesting for me is its impermanence, and that it's ever-changing. More rambling and musings...

(I will never completely know something inside and out, and especially not any person. The optimist in me immediately searches for the best qualities in people, and I magnify them; my shock at finding any traits in a person that genuinely interest me at all gives me tunnel vision. I think I've got people figured out and decide I want to know them for real. And then flaws and the truth and reality comes crashing down and I remember that things are never as sparkly and dreamy as they seem to me at first.

This initial let down that I've caused myself can be disappointing, and the contrast between my hazy could-be world and the reality of the what-actually-is world is enough to make me lose interest completely.

However, I need to stop contradicting myself because things aren't so black and white. As much as I'm proven wrong about people in a negative way, I can be proven wrong about them in a positive way. Maybe they're not who I think they are; maybe they're better.)

With all that in mind, I still can't help it...
I like novelty. When something's different and new and the possibilities of who someone might be are endless. They might be who I want. What if? We could totally swap stories, share books, make bad jokes, say things that don't make sense and laugh like they do, laugh more when we realize that they don't, play in the grass, have a good time, and listen to Pinkerton together.

So I grab onto this feeling and hope for the best, and then a month later when it's old... sigh. On to the next one.

If

I had a pink wig, I could simultaneously look like Natalie Portman in Closer and Scarlett Johansson in Lost in Translation.


A thought to ponder for next Halloween/life in general.






Beautiful.

More

late-night rambling.
Experiences are important to me.
Maybe I'm losing my head because of being subjected to one intense week of grading and judging and unimportant questions and memorized facts and wasted time.
I like throwing myself into situations for the experience and feelings and sensations that I'll get out of it, but it's hard to take the bad with the good.

I still feel numb, but in a different way than before. Knowing that I've hurt people hurts me. I'd rather not exist than cause pain, but I know that pain is an unavoidable and necessary part of life... if it weren't for the sting of it, we wouldn't know the possibilities of love.

I've always prided myself on being as truthful as I can be, especially when it really matters. Not that honesty isn't always important, but brutal, stripped down honesty is especially imperative in certain situations.

I find it hardest to be honest with myself. With everything else, I rarely judge; I see what's in front of me and take it, understanding its constants and variables, that it is what it is and I'll never fully know it but can take what I see.

I'm pro at lying to myself, as much as I hate to say it. I know what's really best for me, but constantly rationalize and hope for other things, other distractions and petty possibilities. Ergo, I want to be alone.

One reason being my fear of relationships, of people who want to keep me. I'm a walking contradiction, because I fucking LOVE people! I love knowing them and learning about them, seeing them smile and finding what makes them happy. However, romance is different... I can find the beauty in any man and desperately want to get to know him and want him to get to know me, but as soon as the interest is returned, I run. It's happened so many times that there's no denying the pattern, and it's confusing.

Half of me wants to be close to someone, all over them and everywhere, knowing everything about them , feeling every touch, the softness of skin, hot breath and secrets, whispered words of rare truths and warm nights spent close. The other half wants to run, run, run, and push. Push out and away, free from any obligation and commitment and weight and chain of having to answer to someone.

Free bird!
"What's her story?" he asked.
"She's a free bird," my friend told them.
"But what does she want? Does she want a boyfriend, does she want..."
"I don't know, man. All I know is she's a free bird," she laughed, keeping it vague and light, not wanting to accidentally give away more than I wanted her to, and they all laughed again at the silly term I'd used to describe myself and any other solo friends we had.

I used to love this title. And I still do. It's so important to think for yourself in life and not feel beholden to the group... the Love and Belonging stage of Maslow's hierarchy. However, it's an entirely different animal when it arises out of fear. It's not freedom at all; you are a slave to your fear.

Would I want to be with someone like me? No. What a pain in the ass. I hate being confused, but I can't expect anything else in return if I'm not a direct, straight line myself.

Why else do I want to be alone? To concentrate on learning more about what interests me, to think clearly and without distractions about how I can most wisely spend my time on this earth. To find the best places to put my energy.


I'm brain-dead, lost, and tired. More on this later.

About that Anis

"So shake the dust and take me with you when you do, for none of this has ever been for me.
Everything that pushes and pulls, pulls for you.
So grab this world by its clothes pins and shake it out again and again
And jump on top and take it for a spin and when you hop off
Shake it again for this is yours."
- Anis Mojgani

Not

knowing where you'll be sleeping for the next three days is the best. Seriously.

I think getting thrown out of your comfort zone makes you learn so much about yourself. As of now, I don't know where I'll be sleeping or in what (I lack a sleeping bag), but I trust it'll work out fine. I look forward to being exhausted, surrounded by vegetarians so that I'm not the pain in the ass to cook for, and meeting wonderful people who care.

http://www.sustainabilitycoalition.org/spring-convergence

EDIT: It was indeed a lovely time. Fun, friends, and vegan food.

"She's in love with the world... but sometimes these feelings can be so misleading."

Kind of a rambling late-night side note with not much purpose.
I feel as though it's too typical to list "beauty" as something that I love because of what it initially implies. Does that mean that I don't love ugly? No, because really... it's all beautiful to me.

Everything about this world holds so much beauty and I'm aching to see it all, learn it all, feel it all, every sight, sense, bright light, fleeting moment, and it hurts when I can't. I'd rather go through heartbreak a thousand times than never feel anything at all. The point is that I'm feeling. I'm in love with the world.

I marvel at the uniqueness of every individual I come across, and whether they love me back or decide to hate me, I'm amazed at every facet that makes them up. I feel lucky that they're in my life, however fleeting... the feelings I have are often lost in translation with my words, but I'm a work in progress.

A couple of Rilo Kiley lyrics that won't leave my head right now... from "Absence of God" and about people I don't know but wish I had.

And Rob says you love, love, love, and then you die...

And Morgan says, maybe love won't let you down
All of your failures are training grounds
And just as your back's turned you'll be surprised she says
As your solitude subsides

And I say there's trouble
When everything is fine
The need to destroy things
Creeps up on me every time

Leaving

There's something romantic about leaving, about impermanence and appreciating what is fleeting. I know I'm lucky to have an opportunity to learn, for the scholarships and aid. But I know this isn't where I need to be right now.

Thinking of the things I could be doing with my time makes my heart race. Knowing that I could be spending my days helping other people, being the change I want to see in the world... it makes me anxious and nervous to get out.

I don't want to be a part of the rat race. I have so much love to give and hope that every hug, conversation, smile that I give makes a difference to someone. I want to give my heart on a larger scale, and am currently searching for my dare to be great situation.

I don't want to be another generalization that turns out to be true. I don't want to be boring and ordinary. What is boring or ordinary is subjective, of course. But I like to think that I'm different. I hope that I'm different.

I admire people who are honest. I admire openness. Above my desk is an old Ray-Ban advertisement ripped from a magazine and sent to me years ago from my best friend, Maryela. The models are folded out of sight, with the text as the only thing showing. "NEVER HIDE" is what it reads. I tape it above my desk or bed everywhere I go as a small but loud reminder.

Honesty works because it makes sense. Everything will add up and further your development if you are honest with yourself.

Easy summers and memories from my childhood make me wish I had never grown up. They make me wish I'd never entered the post-adolescent idealistic phase, because no matter how much of an inside joke it is, it's real. And it's going to last a while.

Nostalgia for childhood creeps up on me every time because I'm a sucker for what I can't have. There's absolutely no turning back to the ignorance of not knowing that we live in a broken world. Each video, photo, bit of knowledge, from every documentary, story, class, has been etched into me forever. And for every bit of knowledge I gain about the state of things, I give a bit of my heart in return. I'm forever altered when I learn these things. And there's so much wrong with the world that I feel almost overwhelmed with my desire to help but not even knowing where to begin because so much seems so desolate. But as blissful as the ignorance was... the hot nights, the carefree, the beautiful insignificance of it all... I wouldn't change to have it back.

Why be this way? Why throw yourself into uncomfortable situations, why fight, when you could stay complacent? It reminds me of something I came across when reading about Noam Chomsky... someone asked him a similar question regarding his political activism, and he replied that it had something to do with being able to look yourself in the eyes in the morning.

Quiet

days like these make me wonder what the rest of the city is doing while the day disappears behind rooftops.

So shake the dust and take me with you when you do, for none of this has ever been for me.

I feel it all, I feel it all.

Say yes

The last year or so has been pleasantly forgetful, and I don't realize it's so until I remember things from the past that weren't that way. My best memories, the ones that can still make me sweat, make my heartbeat speed, smell the grass, touch the moisture in the air, and make me feel the way I did when they happened... were before I came here and got caught up in a routine of what I should be doing. I never wanted to be a person who'd grow up and fall into a chain of events, a mindless race towards something that's only important because others have said so. A dollar only has the value you chose to give it.

I wanted to do something worthwhile, something of importance that I could look back on and remember. I want to do it all. I want to remember who I so badly wanted to be and forget who I became for a second, because there's a disconnect and I'm too much everything to stay complacent. I want to be a part of everything, meet everyone, see all the beauty and ugly and in between, because really... it's all beautiful. I hate that I started to do things because someone else thought it would be best, that I've apologized when I wasn't sorry, and that I've even considered changing who I was for someone. Would it have been pleasant? Yeah, it would have. Would I have been happy? Maybe sometimes. But none of it would have been done for me, and I would have forgotten my life in a second.

I'm going to try and remember the list of things I wanted to do before all this and add to it... they're simple.

No more white lies. I was born a bad liar and cursed myself for always having to be honest because honesty can hurt people. However, if I'm surrounding myself with people who want lies, I need to rethink. I'll smile in pictures if I feel like it. I never used to apologize... because I knew that later, I'd be thankful for every moment that made me who I was, and I'm going back to that. I've always had more respect for people who were able to disappoint me with the truth than please me with a lie.

"Money, cars, and clothes..."
The future of an artist is bleak, and it's exciting. Bleak means that there is nothing concrete awaiting me; all the more reason to create. Now, I want to say, "Yes." Yes to every invitation, idea, moment, sense, and feel it all.



If it's a big bucket... be a big drop of water.

Ready for summer again

I feel like I've lost something and I don't know how to get it back. The year's been a whirlwind of pleasant and sad things, smiles and laughs other moments I can't quite recall because they were numb, hazy. As everything was happening, I blamed my forgetfulness of the days on my typical bad memory. But there's something else. Reading old thoughts and remembering how I felt as I wrote them make me miss what I lost.

What are we doing? What are they doing? Gearing up for graduation or finding ways to delay it, making resumes to sell themselves to a faceless person who'll throw them away because of a bent page corner or unattractive font... we work and study to get ready for the real world, a world I still want no part of. At times, I want to be young and insignificant, harmless as I lie and itch in the grass, mistakes forgotten and forgiven because no one is spiteful... but I know it's not that way and that's not what I really want. It would be easier in a daze, of course, but numbness never progressed to anything.

I want to lose myself to find myself. I don't regret any of the past year, never. I try not to regret. But these days, I hate the sound of my own voice because I've forgotten how to think before I speak. I don't know why I want what I want or do what I do, but I know I'm here, solid and breathing, and need to remember.