Viva La Stories

Your Path.

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When I tried to force myself into one direction I realized how much I was limiting myself and evidently hurting myself and my journey, by preventing myself from growing into who I am meant to become. And learning lessons I could never appreciate from within my comfort zone.

As much as you would want to follow in someone’s footsteps, you have your own path laid out before you, meant for you to tread.”

I learned that when you try to create a single path for yourself by avoiding other paths, it initially leaves you stagnant. You MUST try in order to stumble, fall and fail. This is how we create momentum which initially molds our path. Then we  rise to our feet and begin stepping into our purpose. Do not forget it was YOUR back that rolled on the dirt. Therefore, you know the ground better than anyone, especially those who claimed to have “been down that road before”, they couldn’t have. It is one path per person  and only you can walk yours.

So why not conquer it?

Remember how the ground felt underneath your back, how it scraped your knees and broke your nail. Now feel it beneath your feet, squeeze it in your hand, between your toes and welcome it. Take in a deep breath of this new unfamiliar territory, and claim it. Pave the way with your unique rhythm made by your own footprints and failures and worry not when the path will end. For continuing your journey is what matters. So the next time you fall, and you will, allow yourself to feel the warmth from your soul within, and let it ignite your fire to thrive. Breathe in and allow the wind of the universe to blow the dirt off your shoulders. Dust yourself off. And with the strength to do it all again, slowly
breathe out
and
keep going.

Hopeful Writer

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I love words.

But the word, writer…

Gives me THE most anxiety.

It doesn’t feel like I deserve the title because I don’t do it justice everyday. Or maybe not the justice I believe it deserves, in terms of quantity. Its funny, for a person who values quality so much, I sure do base a lot of things on quantity. I’m pretty much a hypocrite who isn’t afraid to admit it but is afraid to be called out on it. Just like anyone else would. So I hide and I write, feeling like a fraud for telling people I’m a writer whenever they ask “so what do you do”. I lie to myself as I lie to them because I am my greatest critic. As I tell myself  to “always do better than I know I can”. Which I know can be very inhibiting and kind of self sabotaging, but I still do it anyways.

What can I say I’m a work in progress. Even though I subconsciously know no other way to treat myself because I’ve always been treated this way by people who claimed they loved me but didn’t really mean it. [WOW tangent] But how was I supposed to know the difference. This is the part where my therapist would ask me “well what do you mean by that”. Well thats the problem, I don’t know. And now this is the part where my best friend would annoyingly affirm “yes you do”. But the one thing I do know is that I’m old enough to decipher whether or not someone genuinely cares about me. However, I often confuse it with instant gratification, selfishness and egocentricity.

So it’s safe to say I’m never 100% certain when it comes to other peoples true intentions. I know few people I used to call “friend” or even family who fooled me into believing their deceitful agenda against my own better judgement. But I guess it’s hope that makes us foolish, especially if there is recurring proof of the matter. I guess my therapist was right, I am good at dancing around the real problem at hand. Although I still can’t tell the difference between love and lies. I’m always hoping that I’ll be wrong, even when I know I’m right about someone. Trusting my gut is a skill I haven’t yet mastered. Just for the simple pleasure of hoping the world isn’t as dark as we paint it to be.

That; whenever the sun has “turned its back” on us, it’s still shinning brightly somewhere else.

-Peace till my next blog ✌🏾

Ode to Erasers

So many people underestimate you

I laughed at them who did math in pen

They never understood the depth of your being.

You’re more than pink decoration on a yellow wooden stick.

A savior is what you are.

The only thing in the world mistakes are afraid of.

Because you can dissolve them.

You don’t need a pencil to support you.

Stronger on your own you are.

Smooth as a pebble.

Those which skip across large bodies of water.

You are anything but ordinary.

Even your colors are unique.

Rumor says your blue side can disintegrate ink.

Be afraid blue ball point pen.

Be very afraid.

First time here? Me too

Hey!

So, I want this be a conversation.

I don’t want this to feel like an interview where I show you my resume and we judge each other on what we read about the other.

I’m here and you’re here.

And I’m happy about that. I’m glad that we can come here to have a conversation. (It’s funny, the more I say this the more this feels like a dating site, which it’s not).

Anyways.

Since this is my first real blog post I want to share something with you.

I have no idea what I’m doing with my life. Ha! I don’t even know why I’m writing this or in this way, but hey it feels right and it makes me feel more comfortable. Hopefully this feels more like a relatable style of writing instead of annoying.

Funny thing is, WordPress red-lined the world relatable (again). Maybe writing like is annoying. But hey who cares *inserted favorite black girl shrug emoji* (Didn’t red-line the word emoji tho).

But anyways, I pretty much just end up places and try to make something of my time (like my great grandmother asked me the other day). I guess that’s all we’re really supposed to be sure of, that we’re making good use of our time while we’re still alive. That being said, my great grandmother, The Great Adline Agatha Coley, is 103 years old. So when she asked me “You making use of your time” I took that in very deeply before I said yes.

IMG_6096Even though I have no idea what I’m doing with my life, I know that I have been making use of my time doing whatever it is that makes me or someone else happy. After my college graduation I had no idea where I would end up, career wise, in the months to come. But what I did know was that I had a responsibility, a duty, to “Make my Life Spectacular”. After all, that’s what I put on my graduation cap. And more importantly it’s what Robin Williams once said in the movie “Jack”.

The following week post grad, I found myself in London, England visiting family. Then a couple weeks later I was touring Cancun, Mexico with my fairy godmother. After landing back in New York, I took a couple trips with friends to local beaches and restaurants to enjoy what was left of the summer. It wasn’t until a few weeks before later that I decided to try branding myself; respectfully as a creative person in any way possible. I started writing stories, poems, screenwriting, making a couple YouTube videos (some still in post) as a way to better market myself and my talents while exercising my skills.

I still had no idea when my career would start but I realized the more I did for my brand, the more people were noticing me and my journey and wanted to help. I ended up getting accepted into an amazing Facebook group that helps promote and uplift fellow YouTubers and Bloggers, creatively and professionally. Being in this group really inspired me to continue creating my way along self discovery.

Maintaining this attitude towards life created an awesome momentum in the universe and has helped me land a couple great gigs with people in the television and entertainment industry, from the NBA to ESPN and CBS. Not to mention the numerous people I’ve have the pleasure of connecting with via LinkedIn. Which is one of my favorite social networks to connect with people and learn a plethora of useful and inspirational information. I call it my “professional Facebook” because I love sharing the incredible articles and videos I stumble upon.

I appreciate how far I’ve come, and the people I’ve been blessed to connect with along the way, who now know of my creative potential and work ethic.

It feels great when people believe in you, and even better when they bet on you. But the best feeling is when you believe and bet on yourself.

And I made a vow to never stop working on myself because I never know where I’ll end up next.

So, I hope you haven’t gotten bored and just started skimming through this blog post like I do when I get bored halfway. If you are that’s okay. Maybe I’ll add a crossword puzzle on the side so you can have something fun to do in between reading my posts. I prefer tic-tac-toe but I can get competitive sometimes so I’ll just leave that out.

But like I said in the beginning of this post, I want this to be like a conversation. I don’t want to feel trapped in a one sided relationship, I want to hear from you too. Tell me how you feel about things and life. Like I said, I have no idea what I’m doing with this blog. But I’m here. And you’re here.

And I think that’s how it starts.

Our Big Toe

I have long toes.

When I was 10 my childhood friend used to say “if I cut my toes off I would be a size 6”. After all these years I finally agree with her. I would be a size 6 if I cut my toes off.

But the toe with the utmost significance is my inherited big toe which my mother blessed me with. Many times I left socks with the eye of a needle. Every single pair of socks I owned eventually had a hole.

But my big toe is beautiful. Wide, round, and brown with three horizontal lines. I think I have beautiful feet. I’m not sure if the person who owns the foot is supposed to be the judge of that. But no one has ever compared them to shriveled up baby carrots or complained whenever I wear sandals.

I am a shoe lover. But my big toe hates beautiful heels because they suffocate and squeeze her like a grape. My mother and I are both shoe crazy (She more than me). As a child I would always put on her heels and practice walking like a woman because I just couldn’t wait to be one (Silly me).

My baby feet grew up learning how to walk like my mother. Toddling behind her at first and then soon treading the pavement right beside her. My mother’s strides were much too long for me and I had to catch up. But ten years later I realize my strides are now quicker than hers. She has taught me well like a lioness trains her cub to conquer the wilderness.

Thanks Mom. I love our big toe.

It reminds me of how far we’ve come and yet to go.

November 

Apricot leaves fall to the ground as

Disfigured clouds cover the sun.

The air feels more grey than blue

Though trees remain fluorescent.

Squirrels scurry saving seeds.

Stealing from my mother’s sunflowers.

It was warmer in October when

An orange blanket covered the sky.

The moon was a pumpkin

Revealing it’s loneliness at midnight.

Schools of sweaters swarm the streets with

Rubber boots pounding puddles.

Umbrellas stretch across sidewalks

And frigid winds embrace my body.

My nose turned red.

This hazelnut latte warms my fingertips

As steam escapes to hug my face.

Rain

Why is it that
I can hear the ticking of the clock
From across the room?
When the clock is its own entity of time
I shouldn’t be able to hear its business.
Why is it that it’s duty affects me so?
Why does it spin in a circle?
To make me dizzy?
Under its compulsion
I’m driven insane.
By time that ticks
In sync
With drops
Of rain.

Saying “yes”.

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Saying “yes” is terrifying, because that means I’ve made a decision.

And making a decision is like signing a contract in black ink with a quail pen like in the 1800’s.

At least that’s what it feels like in my complicated brain/world/mind. <- see what I mean? There was no easy way of explaining that.

But I’ve said yes to creating this blog because I have so many ideas, poems and stories in my brain clawing it’s way out into the real world.

And I’ve decided to put them here because I believe they deserve to exist.

So welcome, and I hope life allows you to come back to visit my imagination. 😌