After walking four miles to get myself some canvas, brushes and paint I wasn’t satisfied. I finally got around to painting and that feeling that I used to have has disappeared. There was no spark, love or appreciation for what I was creating. It just felt trivial and useless. It was as if I was painting just to say that I had painted, but the act lacked emotion and cause. This really worries me.
I used to have this appetite for life – for adventure and moments that I could go back to. Now, I spend my day sitting at home, studying, cooking for myself and trying to find entertainment. It almost feels like I’m settling. Is it my home that’s making me feel this way? My thoughts, or lack there of?
I’m starting to believe that those who go to study medicine and are truly dedicated do not have a life outside of their studies. You just don’t have time to spend on anything except studying. Even when you do happen to indulge, you feel guilty for not studying. It’s a vicious cycle really. Study have no life; have a life and feel guilty. There is just no in between.
This is what I believe is the sacrifice that everyone talks about. You have to give up your creativity, friends, connection to the outside world so that you can succeed at something. You really can’t have it all.
I’m sitting here in bed trying to get my homework done, but Auntie Flow decided to come in hot and heavy this month. I never feel as weak and as drained as when my period comes to pay me a visit. And no matter what I do, I become bedridden for a solid two days. There is no amount of yoga, exercise, hot tea or heating pads that could rid me of my pain and get me out of my bed. Yes, of course I could take some ibuprofen to rid me of my misery, but why do that? Why put my kidneys through all that work and why take medicine to cure something that is so natural and beautiful. Sure it’s bloody and disgusting most of the time, but still there’s something delicate and fascinating about this cycle our bodies go through.
Every month, our body goes through these extreme changes in hormones in order to prepare for life – a baby that could possibly be conceived and nurtured within our womb. And yet we take those changes and become aggravated by the fact that we feel bloated or have sprouted new pimples! We often forget that this gift that we are given is a treasure that need be cherished and loved – no matter what pain may come.
Before starting to write this post, I spent a good 10 minutes staring at the screen. I aimlessly stared at the blinking cursor prompting me to move my fingers. I stared aimlessly – trying to find the words to explain this idea of in between. I felt and still feel in a daze. I am at a loss for words. I am torn between so many emotions and thoughts that I don’t even know where to begin or how to even explain the confusion that I am feeling. My head is pounding, my heart is sinking into my stomach, I can’t think!
The last few months I have lived in this in between. Caught between what I feel is the right thing to do and what other people are telling me. Unsure of where my life is going now that I am officially a college graduate. Unsure if my life will turn out how I dreamed of. Moving. Packing. Driving to my temporary homes that provide no comfort.
I am a nomad. A woman in search of a home, of some relief and routine. A straight line rather than a route that keeps rerouting.
The man of the hour.
The artist who sings with such beauty and elegance.
The man who has gotten me through nostalgic days like today.
The one who takes me back to being a child when I would wake up to his fruitful melodies. Only you, only you know how to sing those wonderful notes.
Only you. Forever you.
Que triste fue decirnos adios
Cuando adorabamos más…
Hasta la golondria emigro…
Presagiando el final…
Que triste luce todo sin ti,
Lo mares de las playas se van
Se tiñen los colores de gris
Hoy todo es soledad.
No sé, si vuelva a verte después,
No sé que de mi vida será
Sin el lucero azul de tu ser,
Que no me alumbra ya,
Hoy quiero saborear mi dolor…
Nooo, pido compasion y piedad
La historia de este amor se escribio para la eternidad
Que triste, todos dicen que soy
Que siempre estoy hablando de ti
No saben que pensando en tu amor, en tu amor
He podido ayudarme a vivir, he podido ayudarme a vivir.
Hoy quiero saborear mi dolor, no, pido compasión y piedad
La historia de este amor se escribio para la eternidad,
Que triste todos dicen que soy, que siempre estoy hablando de ti
No saben que pensando en tu amor en tu amor,
He podido ayudarme a vivir, he podido ayudarme a vivir, he podido ayudarme a vivir.
Well, here I am.
Sitting on a couch finally finishing this blog project that I decided to start last summer. My hope is that by creating this blog, I will find myself more at ease and feel as though I’m actually doing something with myself. I hope that those who are reading this, actually get some kind of kick out of this because trust me when I saw I know I will. But whether this will actually work out or not…we’re just going to have to wait and see.
Here goes nothing.