The sunny kid

It used to be my mother, my father and I.
Always together, always spending our holidays in the sun. My mother loved the sun so we would go everywhere just to be able to meet it.
The fact that my father was a young master and my mother an only heiress made those trips pretty easy for us.
Whenever we felt like it, whenever the season got colder, we could sail, drive or fly to a warmer place.
It fitted us so well, we had so many pictures of us in the sunlight that we ended being called the sun family. Imagine our distress when my father’s right hand stole everything from us : our money, our possessions but mostly our freedom of the sun. My father did his best to give it back to us but it was a really exhausting lifestyle for him and soon enough my mother died from depression and my father of exhaustion, all that is left of them was me, photo albums and an hypocrite world.
My mother couldn’t live without the sun and we couldn’t afford to just move to some tropical island without any source of income. My father was a good man but he never really learned to work more than what he had too. And there was little me who only was raised seeing them happy and competing with the brightness of the sun.
What will little ignorant me do?
I was taken in by some relatives who couldn’t give a damn about me. I soon caught the eye of the eldest son who’d do everything I asked for. The youngest son came to like me and proposed to me.
Nice and cute isn’t it?  But it wasn’t that type of proposal, he was ambitious and clever and saw my natural charm, it’s true we got well with each other but he befriended me on the name of business. He took me away and established a company based on the power of mine and other girls’ charms. What’s good is that he never forces us to do anything we didn’t want to. We were less than 10 so he would meet with us pretty often, expose his short term projects, talk about our advantages, the risks, what we could benefit from it, select those he thought suited his plans and convince them to take the job. As I was a pioneer, he started consulting me and years later made me a partner. It was a decent luxurious lifestyle. I could have ended up worse and was blessed I got to be able to meet the sun again whenever I wanted.
I moved my parents grave to somewhere really sunny (11 months a year, near a desert, could qualify as an oasis except it wasn’t threatened by water depletion). I get to travel how much I want thanks to my partner’s business. I get to meet powerful people and feed of their greediness and I get to have one unconditional friend, who would never betray or leave me until death tears us apart.


I gave my support to the poor

I went to a charity event and gave my support to the poor
I didn’t sign a check or fill an envelope
I didn’t leave an expensive item or buy one for the cause either
I ate talked, drank, welcomed other guests.
I applauded when I should, laugh, smile and frowned when it was needed.
I took pictures to prove I was there and took for others so they could brag about it.
I went to a charity event and gave my support to the poorest by allowing myself to breathe and be normal
Because the poorest one there was probably me
All those kids laughing, crying, working hard to get out of misery is a really sad thing  but feeling is a blessing
And this night to be able to stand out of the shadows and the darkness, to see people supporting each other and to reach out to me without feeling obligated was a great sensation, I must say.
It was selfish and useless that I came but when I went back and stepped into the cold clear night, I felt warm and not lost anymore.
So yes I went to a charity event and gave my support to the poor but received the most support, me, the empty voided heart.

Now I know you don’t believe me when I say mean no harm
Uncertainty is fleeting;  I’m inspired by your charm

Lay you down easy, Magic!  (ft. Sean Paul)

I painted my nails green…

It looked good on me
But for some reason, I didn’t think it fit me
People keep complimenting the color, saying how much it suits me
But I keep replying that I still don’t think it fits me
Someone asked “why did you choose this color then?”
“It was laying over there, it looked pretty” I said
People keep saying the same thing and I keep answering the same.
One of my nails broke and took most the nail polish off, but I still repainted with a similar color because I didn’t have that exact hue.
Days later, the green faded, my nails grew and I still wouldn’t get rid of it.
It’s idiotic, I don’t even think it fits me
So why am I holding on to it a bit longer?

“Another one of her crisis”, she said

I was feeling down, I didn’t feel like going out but it was my friend’s birthday so she took us two to an event, she had been waiting for, to celebrate with her.
It’s not an unusual thing to party when it’s your birthday but I really didn’t want to leave my room. At this event, there were more friends of mine, I had a falling out with one of them but she was hanging out with more friends of mine so I couldn’t do anything but talking to her friendly, otherwise it would have been awkward for all of us.
And I don’t know if she did it on purpose or if she was clueless but she started hanging around me more, asking me to do stuffs together like dance or take walk together and stuffs like that and I would always say I couldn’t leave the birthday girl. Unfortunately, one of my good friends started snapping pictures of them having fun and, a bit jealous, I imposed myself on them and the other one felt maybe a bit embarrassed and said she did it with everybody. I realized the atmosphere and went back to the birthday girl who was being pampered by everyone. My good friend came to me and told me it was no big deal really and I shrugged, I didn’t want to remember what I just did. I went to the bar, getting myself a drink when the good friend came to me again saying that she talked to me earlier so we could snap one together, the ex-friend came by and said “don’t pay attention, it’s one of her crisis again”. I was shocked, I know what she was referring to and my good friend laughed like it was some silly comment.
But truth is I didn’t want to stay anymore or to talk to anyone cause what she said hurt me way more than if she had said some mean words.
What she was referring to was my big depression in December. By the end of December, I didn’t feel like going out, I barely left bed and only talked to people through texts. The ex friend came from a trip to Paris and wanted to see me but I said I couldn’t possibly welcome her (I hadn’t left my room for two days straight so I didn’t want people to see me either. But that friend came by dropping gifts and my father jumped on the occasion to get me out of my room and made me go meet her. I felt horrible, talked barely and was inattentive. When she left, a ray of hope shined through my dark thoughts as I looked at her gifts and I thanked God for having such a good friend. Little did I know that she was going all over town, complaining to every friend we have in common, saying that I was a capricious girl always having weird crises and treating people badly. How could I think she would do that when months earlier I opened my heart to her and told her I would feel down occasionally for no good reasons?? How could it possibly occur to me that she would badmouth me like this when I remember clearly saying to her, weeks earlier to her departure, that I started to feel unsociable, numb, indifferent, when I stated almost all the symptoms of common sadness and depression to her, warning her from the thing to come???
To see my other friends laugh so happily to such a “silly” joke made me realize that I could never be totally honest to someone. Why would I if you don’t even take the time to think and analyze my illness as it is and not like some stupid crisis to make myself seen or to gain attention? The others that didn’t know didn’t even think of how unusual and unfitting this comment was, what if I had told them, would they have react just the same and label me a capricious girl?  I’m almost sure of that. Is there no way for me to be completely naked in front of everyone without being labeled, judged, pointed and misunderstood?? Is the only way for me to join a group of people just like me?  Is that how far the general open-mindedness reach and how much tolerance can be shown?? 
Life sucks, the World sure is segregated.

Karma Part 11 – (Roommate’s POV)

Yesterday night, before we went to our bedrooms, my roommate told me that she’d meet me tomorrow morning at the little family park, not too far from our building. She asked me to get things ready there in her behalf because she had to pick up her friend, the one organizing the party. I didn’t mind, I was so excited about this brunch / picnic. It would take this awkward situation with Arnoldo off my mind. I like cooking but I love to manage a grill, it was the best way to spend some time with my dad. We were really close, we used to spend a lot of things together, throwing ball, playing house (he would wear a pink funny hat). My mom died early so it was always me and my dad, he wasn’t overprotective, it was more like I loved to spend time with him. And if dad had a hobby beside baseball, it was his grill. Every friday evening, he’d invite his buddies over and he’d get an excuse to uncover our sophisticated grill in the backyard. The summer of my last college year, I went to volunteer abroad, in a remote poor district in Nicaragua, we helped the people get clean water, teaching the kids, delivering fertilizers and so much more. It was really rewarding and I was looking forward to tell dad all about it. Before we left Managua, the NGO sponsoring us organized a huge farewell party with all the volunteers present in the country, that’s where I met him. I’m not sure which country he came from but this Latin American boy was so charming and I was surprised to feel so sad at the idea of going back home. We exchanged mails and numbers and I took my flight home the next morning.
When I arrived home, dad’s wasn’t there. Because I wanted to surprise him, I didn’t tell him when I’d be coming back so it wasn’t a real shock to get back to an empty house. While I was unpacking, my phone rang and I received the worst news, Dad got a heart attack and was brought up to the hospital. I rushed there and I was told he had got out of surgery but there were no guarantee that he would make it. For the moment, he was stable, I prayed and prayed he would open his and on the third day he did, he looked at me smiled and waved then died. I grieved, moved out of the house -it reminded me too much of him and his devotion for mom, it was just an empty home now-, moved in this apartment. After that so much happened : I got a paid internship, I took in that hard working girl who lived too far from work, my Latin American boyfriend came to the US and moved in with me, got me pregnant and was deported for abuse on me. I got depressed and almost gave up on life.
I gave birth to Daisy and it only worsened, it took me a long therapy and to learn how to take care of Daisy to finally withdraw out of that. After that, I  saw the world in a whole new light, I got promoted, met Arnoldo and love seemed to not be too far. But right now, my feelings for him shattered when I saw my young beautiful roommate open his door on the morning we were supposed to go to the Farmers Market together. The air is still heavy because I couldn’t resolve myself to listen to his explanation, I’m a bit scared it would end with me alone again.
Well whatever, I put on the cutest sunny yellow dress with daisies on my cute baby girl and she responded to me with a big toothless smile. As I headed to the park, it confirmed to me what I already knew long ago. As long as I have my Daisy, nothing will break me.