*Forever Free*

Through the browns of her eyes, she sees wonders


August 2013

A square in a world full of obtuse shapes

Hey Folks,

Well, the adventures of San Fran just keeps getting better and better. For the past month, I have gotten my first “job”, I have started to get the hang of the city and furthermore, the thought of me moving out to Cali was a bad idea; has gone and the excitment of being here is settled. With that, I have met some really interesting people, ones with minds filled with similar ideas like myself however, there are others where I felt that I have seen them years ago, in PA. So today wasn’t any different. I was hanging out with April’s stud-licious friend who’s girlfriend was meeting us at the Powell Station. We chatted it up, until she came and when she arrivied, I noticed that she reminded me of the girls from home. The one that belived that they were the best thing since the invention of a hot comb. I didn’t want to think that I would have an issue with her, so I approched her like someone would in unfamilar situatiuons.

She was nice, really, but she was the example of what “lost youth” would look like. Like most qualities, I looked pasted it. Untill…

April decided to bring her “herbs” out and asked me to roll. I never turn down a opportunity to practice. The young woman who i found out her name was MiMi said, “I would never take you to be a smoker, no offence but you look like a square to be doing that.”

Square?! Now, I didn’t know what that even meant or hell, if people would actually use that word that was created in the late 70s, in hippy reference to a conserative person. But Me, square? I didn’t take offense to it because, i’ve heard worst. Yet, it got me to think and dissect it. Ever since I moved here, my goal was to emerce myself in the culture that is the polar opposite of what I was accustomed to in PA. Yet, the culture of San Fran is one that I have to slowly take steps into. I always saw myself as an indivual who is trying to find her voice and presence in California however, my voice is passive and presence, shy to people looking right at me. I made me think, “Am I too clean cut?” “Is there such a thing of being too “good”?” Through various situations and speaking to co-workers, some are too shocked to even hear that I’m 24 and not 18. That I have never been to places or seen certain things that they(Californinans) see on a normal daily basis. Maybe being a square is what is what I need to seperate myself from blending in with the other shapes that form my “circle” I feel like i’m a living representation of flatland and even though, to this day, i don’t have any idea what the concept of the story was but I’m beginning to get the modern gist of it.

I hope everyone is having a good week.

For Now, Love and Peace!



Thoughts on Paper…An Ode to Writing

Hey Folks,

I hope everyone is having a really great week. Positive vibes for the ones that aren’t. It’s only Tuesday!

So I have been touring the city of San Fran and I must say, it’s what I have always dreamt it would be. Minus the strange spring/fall weather in the month of August, but either way, I love it here. Living with my dearest friend, April and her man-child boyfriend, it felt like college all over again. Though being here has giving me sunny days, her man-child has given me a few thunder storms. Maybe, I’ve invaded his territory when April gave me the Ok? Either way, it wasn’t my issue, yet, he made it such. One day, I was so filled with anger that I wanted nothing more to clobber him with a 5,000lb instrument, I went to seek refuge in my secret space, the library. While cooling down and killing time, I began to put some thoughts on paper and without a subject, it formed into one. So, here’s what came about. It’s not a poem, more like thoughts spilling on ink.

Usually, the realization that people have occur when they are at the lowest point of their lives. Myself, I’m not exactly sure as wot where mines was. Yet I realized, that today, I’m alive and that itself speaks volumes. Throughout various changes in my life, the only thing that eve stayed constant is my love for writing. It never once reminded me that I’m a wanderer, scared to settle down in life. It never showed me my fear of failure, or the reminders of intellect that you “lack”, compared to your counterparts. Wait…It never compares to any counterpart for that matter. Writing has always been a comfort in a every changing, fast pace world. As an escape, when reality is too much to bear, or when tears translate itself to vowels that are no longer formulated words, but otomatopoeias. I can allow all inhibited thoughts hit the pen ad allow my finger write the words that my mouth whats to say but can’t.Freedom…writing represents freedom, on that my soul aches to have. However, like a fugitive, outstretched arms through the bars, aching to be released.

There you have it folks, some thoughts to paper.

Hope you enjoy:)


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