I wish our value were determined with something other than a paper declaring our specialty and skill, a degree that isolates one aspect of a whole life and allows it to override the countless aspects that contribute to each miracle of a human being that may "augment" the isolated skill or be the factor to its creation, its experience that translates into practice that makes perfect a skill, and if the experience is not recorded as the steps of a process of a creation than what is the acknowledgment really doing for us when we cannot identify the importance of its transition?

It has this power, because without the presence of "it" we lose authenticity and all of the benefits of being a human being, going from fellow neighbors to detached "informants" once you get stuck at a lower level of the latter, left to be observed by the nicely tailored, intrigued, white men who do not bother to wash their hands because there is no need in the much clean quarters of the buildings that the aliens cleanse, not for the hell of it.

I have skills and traits that will never be recorded nor acknowledged out in the exteriors of my own mind

The soft winds have moved me the most,

I have felt the dirt beneath me become lotion on my skin
with whispering hope,

I've clasped my hands, have tried to share the gift

aching for balance

but you're too scared to let me in

 and a tinge of consistency

so my hands become fists

continuing to walk the plank blindfolded

from "she" I become "it"

losing identity

and I walk with a purpose

but remembering the rest of me

and suppose I deserve it

on observing, I'm only

a little  recipe for the old house specialty

my pride is becoming overwhelming.

I think it only fair to find a way to sacrifice myself to my people as much as they have for me. My parents have done an admiral thing, I find impossible to match. To live for their children moreover themselves, in such a way, they went to a whole new world, left theirs behind, for something they have yet to understand, but know is good for one concept of "success" because it is not THE concept, but it is the one they found most fitting for us. but what about them? where have they misplaced their lives, and how can I give it back to them?

ugh.

sleep

... is for the clean-conscious privileged. I need not apply.

did I

and ill never
find another
like a past
lover
of mine.

never love a lover like I loved
her,
for the lover is not a loved one
of mine
but a kind
that loves, loved, will,
not necessarily
you.
In return
you have not, do not, will..
not necessarily love
her--
the one that loves, loved, or will.
all circumstance, I suppose.
love is but a concept, we might not consistently contextualize,
nor conceive
for I can
no longer
as I
did
once.

if I had to sit..

I would love to sit on this!

im making this

for my 3D Art class :]

Preach!

Leisure

when I die wikipedia is that when this happens? cuz after work I work, after school its all about school! BAHHHHHHH. UNRELIABLE SOURCE IS RIGHT.

Public parks were initially set aside for recreation and leisure.

Leisure or free time, is a period of time spent out of work and essential domestic activity. It is also the period of recreational and discretionary time before or after compulsory activities such as eating and sleeping, going to work or running a business, attending school and doing homework, household chores, and day-to-day stress.

The distinction between leisure and compulsory activities is loosely applied, i.e. people sometimes do work-oriented tasks for pleasure as well as for long-term utility.^[1] Distinction may also arise between free time and leisure. For example, criticism of consumer capitalism by theSituationist International maintains that free time is illusory and rarely free and instead, economic and social forces appropriate it from the individual and sell it back to him as a commodity in the form of leisure.^[2]

Leisure studies is the academic discipline concerned with the study and analysis of leisure.

its love like this we all need

sad times

be mine !

journal entry from 6/16/10

i cleaned my room and danced a little.
I want to change. Everything.My room, my wardrobe, my look, body, perspective, my love and my interests, music, my art.. EVERYTHING. a little. better. I'll start with the smaller, very important things and keep some very few things in tact.

its a long process. so far so good.

story of my life

We used to wait,
We used to waste hours just walking around.
We used to wait,
All those wasted lives in the wilderness downtown..

My manager for five years, Millie or Mildred really, passed away today. I had been meaning to call and check up on her for a few weeks. I guess I know for sure how she's doing now.I remember meeting her the day I applied to work at honey dew, I was so intimidated by her. She hired me on the spot.

It was a rough time, I was only fifteen and had been unemployed for three months from my first terrible job. She quickly grew on me and I couldn't see her any less than as a grandmother. She was feisty, sassy and so hard working. Nothing could stop her. She was eighty-four, had been part of Honey dew and the Cranston community for over twenty years, mine for a third of that, and was planning to work til the day of her death.

She spiced up the shop, gave everyone a reason to come and a sense of being "home." she was diaganosed with pancreatic cancer,I watched life leave her as the weeks went by. She wasn't ready to leave and was not willing to stop working, but she had no choice. Shortly after she stopped visiting, didn't want to see anyone, started losing her memory. I tried calling, she was usually asleep and I was asked to call back another time.

This sucks.

The shop already feels different.
Everyone asks about you.

Rest in peace Millie Millz. <3