The present; they say it's a gift

            I'm a little confused as to my feelings of the present. Many sing, "I wanna be forever young" and for me (and a lover I know) this is not the case. I want to be grown up; I see my future and all I want in it and the trail is so long and treacherous I stumble along the way. It is filled with foliage of failures and rocks of obstinacy and I feel I'm wearing heels along the way, because I long to be the lady.

            The process is overrated. Being young withholds the security of knowing who you are and where you're going. Everything I do is with a purpose; a long term purpose. I don't like doing things that do not add up to who I want to be later on. I don't want to take classes unless they're for my majors. I don't want to make friends that won't be there in the long run. I don't want to date for the hell of it. I do things because 1. they get me where I see myself down the road or 2. I need to get it our of my system early on (because it goes contradictory to my future goals down the road)

          I guess it is because this is the time, "you get to know yourself" and I have known myself I'd say since I was 15. I have changed of course; I used to be pettier, angrier, more resentful, but the core of me and my values has stayed the same. Even during transitions I analyze myself. I like to know what makes me. Every speck of stardust and how life made it dull or shine. I am not an old soul, but my experiences have made it easier to categorize myself. Though my counselor said that is a fault of mine imposed on my experiences and not the other way around. 

         I sometimes wonder what it's like to feel like you can explore every avenue. There is a sense of freedom in that, I think. I feel trapped in my destiny sometimes because it cannot come quick enough. But the trials of my past have molded me, given me a direction, and I sense I need to be more molded before I hit my time. Those that have yet to be molded by experience need to just let go. Let the pain hurt you, and scar you, and live. Let the joys wash over you, and cuddle you, and be thankful. But learn to use your experiences as a way to catapult you to the future. The avenues are out there. 

       The only things keeping me going is the idea that the trail is getting smaller. Each year that passes is one less year of my younger self. Getting closer to who I want to be. I am not afraid that my future will not be how I see it, for I make it what I see. I made it to college, one of my biggest dreams, and here I am. I just wished my other dreams got here sooner. 

    As for my pipe dreams, like a perfect Christmas, a wonderful marriage, 5 kids; I know it'll never happen. That's 11 yr old Sandy wishing she could live in TV. They're romantic dreams that cushion the blow of real life. It'll be squashed by liberals who call it "winter break", pre-nups, and a job that will not let you have time for your husband let alone kids; but I'll survive. A pipe dream to save the pipe dream is in order; it's called an understanding man. As I grow, some things cannot be changed, haha. (Men have scarred me the most, that much is clear)

      How can I be cynical and seek romanticism? How can I be damaged and still allow affection? How can I say I'm strong and be so weak? There's more to be analyzed. There's so much more to learn. 

     

What did this bring?

What will they make?

What can she see?

What will he take?

Who knows it all?

Who's done it before?

Who finished the path?

Who wanted more?

How much can he carry?

How big is her load?

How steep is the climb?

How much longer to go?

Where should they stop?

Where do I sleep?

Where does he stand?

Where do we meet?

When's are continual.

Why's are avoided.

Answers are looked for

and easily voided.

Sleigh Bells Don't Ring in California

Christmas is found  in my name.

In the place where a lonely manger once stood.

Christmas was born in a damp, cold day;

Neither in December or the likes of June.

Christmas had no carols at night.

Humiliation harmonized the air,

For the noble man that forgave his wife

of chosen sin and unwanted heir.

Christmas had no tinsel on evergreen

But it did have gold, incense, and myrrh.

More than that, it had our dream

Love incarnate brought down to Earth.

Christmas had no greater tidings

than to see the star bright shown.

For it told of news in desperate hiding

that Salvation and Truth was born.

Christmas was not all pleasant

King's were seeking wanted blood.

And though we forget this in the present

We must remember who overcomes.

Christmas is not found in Kmart;

Its found where my name once stood.

Its in every time and every heart

Where Jesus' love still blooms.

To An Inconstant One*

Sometime ago I lost myself

n forgot what I was here for

Confused among the bookshelves

That knew of nothing from before

The shelves they towered all along

and pinned me with their cloven pine 

Where once I lived aside the throng

I now do wish to leave aside

Their love it does not grow with age

and timeless tales have lost their worth

For love of Sloth; a scabby sage

has filled my heart and warmed the hearth

Idle days have come and gone

with vows of a more productive day

but time has come to pay at dawn

for all my idle fickle ways

*The Rimex

A Longing for the Gates of Gold

Emerging out of restless fog and cold

pillars of steel and crimson red do stand.

Formidable figure took twenty-two hands

and created the Pearly Gates of Gold.

Its strength and grace impossible to behold.

It draws those from the lively coast land

into shores where icy depth and life disbands

and welcome those who seek rebirth from old.

Oh how you tip the scales of morbid beauty

and hold my heart in a gruesome stalemate.

To feel your dreams of romance and epic history

and contemplate the sorrow that you perpetually abate.

A California complete treasure filled with astounding duty

to those who follow the piper and the heartbeat of the Golden Gate.

For all those precious hours...

Dear Chem,           

FUCK YEAH!!!!

sincerely,

Sandy Ortiz

Friday, Oct 7th

Locked out of my house, I decided to head out towards Aldrich Park and relax sitting in front of the meditation garden, I considered how some people, "not us", actually do take time to sit down, smell the roses, wait for time to pass by idly. No worries to entice and no agendas to fulfill. I try this, reluctantly I try this, forced to really, as the pile of things I wanted to do was left locked somewhere unattainable. And what comes out of the shrubbery and greenery at my feet? Not a colorful butterfly, or a squirrel waiting expectantly for a treat.

A gross-ass LIZARD!!!! 

Not even green, giant miniscule dragon of a creature as I ever saw one! With- get this- its tail clipped right off!! oh it was odious! (oh! oh!) It dragged itself on the rest of its limbs, waddling in what must be a torterous lack of entity, as this creature is manily known for its tail. Well, he's all tale now! ;)
And it squirmed intot the shrubbery again and has now but uncrawled again! HOW CAN PEOPLE MEDITATE THIS WAY???? As people pass to head to class, it does not move, it does not boast. It hangs there and for some reason the pathetic character, unnatural of its species, is what grosses me out! Move! Jump! Scare us into submission! We are on your green-marked path, patting it down with tar and clay. And he sits there, and it waits. For death, or the regrowth of its tail (who knows? I've heard cases...)

I have to go to work, and it seems to be crawling over its 5 inch ditch of soil to the tar above, and I hope, with all the sincerity I can muster, albeit slightly digusted, that a bike doesn't smush it.

SPLATT!!!!