Became My Hero

Here comes the Yankees. Don't hate, I will always be a Yankees fan. Actually, the Yankees is one of the reasons why I haven't written lately- I really wanted to wait 'til we'd win the championship to update. However, the more I thought about it the more I knew it had to be now before I'd get busy with something else.

This semester has not been what I expected. Who would have thought that doing what you love could cause so much stress? Maybe I'm not doing what I love? No, it's not that. I hope (fingers crossed).

When I was little, I happened to read Leonardo da Vinci's biography and the guy kinda became my hero. He was a polymath, scientist, mathematician, engineer, inventor, anatomist, painter, sculptor, architect, botanist, musician and writer. It was the first time that I knew of someone being able to do so many things in only one lifetime. I wanted to be just like him. I still do.

This is what created the problem= me wanting to do more than I can do. Or maybe I can? At the end of the day, I don't know. I'm tired and have been since I can remember. What I do know though, is that if I can make it through this semester successfully (including good grades and keeping my GPA at or above 3.9), I know I'll be able to make it through anything.

But for right now, we're up by 2.

The Morning After

After watching the movie 500 Days of Summer, I realized that I was better off by not believing in Forever. And here I am today, with life reinforcing this thought.

During one of the greatest moments in my life, I thought a lot about the future, about what was gonna happen next. I made plans, daydreamed about things, envisioned my upcoming days. But after that great moment, nothing else happened. Well, I moved to L.A. because there was nothing else left for me from that moment.

Yesterday was such an amazing day. From beginning to end. Even the not so good parts of yesterday don't even look so horrible anymore. But today, the story is way different. From beginning to end.

I'm glad that yesterday, I enjoyed my moments, and not even once gave tomorrow (today) a second thought. It didn't matter. The only thing that matter is what I had right in front of me.

Friday Mornings

I really don't like waking up early but it is almost my duty to do so on a daily basis. Today was different though, because today was Friday and I'm beginning to really like Friday mornings.

Even though today is about the only day out of the week when I could potentially sleep 'til 9 (that is the latest I could ever sleep these days. Crazy, I know), I'm giving that up to have breakfast with two friends of mine. And why would I ever do that?

Ever thought of something you really wanted to see yourself doing when you'd grow up? When I was little, I used to walk by restaurants filled with people doing business. Maybe important business or maybe they just wanted to eat kind of business. My point being is that I thought it would be cool to be one of them at some point.

At that was me this morning, talking about business over a cappuccino and a California omelet. It's happening one by one. The more I live, the more I see my dreams coming true before my eyes.

Quit reading this and go live!!!!

I'll Never Stop Trying

The lights and movement woke me up. My grandpa, grandma and brother were getting out of the truck. I got ready to follow them but my grandma told me to stay where I was and not to make a noise. She was crying. I didn't understand what was going on. I looked out the window and saw my mom. She was crying too. Next to her there were about 8 men. They all looked like soldiers with their uniforms and their big guns- but they weren't. "Why is the little girl still in there? Get her out! Everybody out!" one of them said. Grandma came and got me out. She held me against her and I was able to feel her tears falling on my shoulders. I still didn't know what was happening. I just heard my grandpa tell one of the guys to take all the money we had but not to hurt us. That we were a family. Grandma's sobbing became even louder.

I must have been 4 or 5 when The Guerrilla, a rebel group in Colombia, pulled us over. They were known to do this- stop people on the road, kill them, take their money and burn their cars. Somehow, we're all still alive.

Today somebody told me that I take life too seriously and therefore I stress myself and over think things way more than I should. Perhaps I do.

But if I gotta be serious so no one goes through what I've been through- then I'll be serious. If I gotta stress myself in an attempt to change the world- I'll stress as much as I can (even if my voice is never heard). If I gotta over think things to make sure I can help you (whoever you are) with whatever you need help with- then I'll over think things until I can think no more.

This has got to be the most difficult thing I've ever written in my life. I just got back from volunteering at the "Alive & Running 5k" which was an event to raise awareness and funds for suicide prevention. At this event I was told I take life too seriously.

There was a banner at this event with pictures of people that had committed suicide (posted above- sorry I couldn't turned it around but it was taken with my cellphone). I had a chance to see this banner and look at the pictures. Most of them were smiling. They all seemed so normal and happy and I couldn't help but wonder what could have possibly gone wrong. Maybe someone didn't take their lives too seriously.

A little boy and his mom stood by my side at some point. "Which one is it mommy?" the boy asked. She pointed at the picture of one of the guys that were smiling. "That's uncle Jeff, honey."

As I stood there I promised myself to never stop trying to change the world. Even when people think it's lame or even when they tell me that what I do won't change anything. And maybe it won't, but it's a start. I promised them. I'll never stop trying. Whatever it takes. Even if it means taking life too seriously.

So Damn Vulnerable

The knock on the door surprised me. I wasn't expecting anybody and I was hoping no one would come either. I didn't have any plans other than to sleep maybe. I just didn't want to see anybody- myself was enough company for the day.

When I opened the door, she stood there in tears. Before I could say a word, she reached for my torso and the next thing I felt was the wetness of her tears on my shoulder. I've never been really good at this kind of situations but I just stood there and held her.

When she let go, her makeup was just a blur in her face, and I was sure part of it was now on my shirt; but that wasn't a concern at the moment. She didn't look good. I felt sorry for her- I looked at her and I wanted to protect her like she were my little sister but whatever I needed to do, I was too late for it.

"Would you have a beer with me?" she said in the middle of a sob. I nodded and followed her to the kitchen.

When we were finally sitting, I sipped my beer quietly, hoping I'd know what to do when my time to do something would come. But what could have hurt so much for her to be like this? A break up? Someone close died? But that didn't make sense. She wouldn't come to me for that. We were never really that close. Not as much as we were right there.

"I was raped," she said. I think I almost felt the beer making its way back from my stomach. She was sitting there, in front of me. So damn vulnerable.

It's so hard to write this without feeling guilty in a way. I try so hard to tell my friends to do good, to take care of themselves, to be careful, to choose wisely and when something like this happens, I wonder if I didn't try hard enough.