Los Angeles >>> Las Vegas
I am a young entrepreneur with lots of stories and experiences to share! I have been on my own the majority of my young adult life, and love offering tips and tricks on how to make it in this world.
The Art of The Human
Nothing in a hushed moment is ever truly silent. Even when the outside world has seemingly come to a calm halt, the internal brain and heart of a person never shuts off in a living world. I recall a time when the naked body was a forbidden concept. In childhood we are taught not to question nudity, nor to attempt to understand it. Nobody ever truly tells you why, because no one wants to face a child and try to explain what sex is. We are all so consumed by the omen of this one simple word and the taboo which seems to follow it. Sex is the creation of life at the very core, but we stigmatize it to be something never spoken freely of.
Life In Full Bloom
There I was. Toes in the water, head in the clouds. I was then 19 and it was another typical sunny September day in California. After chatting all night and advancing on a friendship that had been blossoming roughly since middle school, (the friend I shall refer to as Bloom) I felt as though I had so very much to say. It had been brought to my attention that life is never simple, and no childhood is ever perfect. We all tend to see life through different telescopes, some choosing to use their hurt to ensure that others never have to feel the same, as my dear friend had decided to do. Then there’s those of us who assume if they never speak nor think of the terrors which belong to them, every horrible thing might just one day dissipate. Our third group is where my heart seems to draw me, and my mind likes to mumble on to itself. This is the realm in which all aspects of life have things that should be said, but it depends greatly to whom which the words are spoken to. Not everyone needs to hear your story, but at least one soul should know the real you, from the dark and gloomy sadness which lurks around your memory, haunting you in your sleep and possessing unnecessary actions, to the gentle and caring, adventurous and optimistic sides of you. We have all hurt, and everyone knows sadness. It’s about how these things are dealt with, and the life we choose to carry on with that makes us survivors or mourners.
I was the kid who got bullied, not lucky. Which explains why I am so greatly astonished when luck strikes me now. By the age of twelve, I had been repeatedly told I was fat and unacceptably overweight by both my peers, relatives, and even my very own brother. I can recall the exact moment in time where I decided to count my first day in calories. One of many to come, my self love or loathing became fully dependent upon the exact amount of energy which I would consume throughout the day. My family was vacationing in Mexico for the second time that year, and I was contemplating what would come of me eating precisely one serving of Life brand cereal squares, rather than brainlessly downing however many pieces my body seemingly craved. Little did I know the birth of my complex relationship with food had begun right then and there. I slowly found myself tossing aside fatty options, and turning my nose up at any offer of snacks. I banished all the foods from my body that my parents had raised me to understand were “fattening” or “unhealthy”, and soon decided to turn away anything with an uncertain amount of calories, with the exception of fruits and veggies.
At The Hands Of A Familiar
I swore to myself once that I could spend an eternity in the serenity of the open air. Alone, undisturbed, and childishly pleased at the lack of a watchful eye. I’ve been a walking emblem of freedom since I learned the very word itself, always eager to be someone who does something. Could you imagine being just another passerby, a resident of Earth who lacks meaning in retrospect to the population of our entire world? There’s all this pressure in my head to be important and useful, but where to begin your endeavors when you know only what you’ve been taught? Despite what some may believe, we cannot change the unknown. The foreign to us may become familiar, yes, but the moon has always been the moon, marvelous and dented all at once, even before the invention of telescopes to confirm it. Similarly, I have always been me. Curious and wandering, but intuitive and bright where it matters.
The All Alluring Equine
Beauty is found in the alluring language of the equine. There is something so precious about the serendipitous way in which horses come to choose their people, drawn to one another by an inexplicable force. Imagine the one thing that makes you most happy, just absorbing it, and becoming part of it. I once wrote a poem about what would become an actual moment in time for me years later.
A Friend In You
Satisfaction to someone who feels they could never belong to anyone, is knowing that the sense of being different, or Riddled, is always there. What professionals refer to as depression, becomes this constant ally to us. We know it would never go away unless we will it too, which is quite possibly why it sticks around for so long. Even during lasting spells of happiness, we may be spoiled by joyful thoughts and pleasant actions, but once the lights go down and loneliness takes hold, we feel comforted by our dark friend.
Through The Looking Glass
The mind is a very intricate thing, and I do strongly believe that it runs the lives of every person in extremely diverse ways. People perceive things in a multitude of variation. To some, sadness is an emblem of everyday life, living with it because they’re too lonely without it. To others, it’s a tear or two for something hurting them, and then it’s gone; blissfully washed clean by the conclusion of the day. It’s not to say everyone should or shouldn’t be allowed to be sad when they must, but it’s almost as if chronic sadness deserves its very own category of words. When your mind is that muddled, whereas everyday life becomes a chore, and you need a driving force to get out of bed, you have reached the point of becoming a Riddled Soul. I am one of these people, mind bewildered by every mundane thing which crosses my path throughout the day. An observer, not a doer. We are a special breed, but most commonly understood as simply “depressed”. It’s not to say we aren’t sad, or that depression is not a symptom in our turmoil, but there is a world beyond that. Allow me to paint you a picture.