Belief… The thief that takes away our truth.

“WHAT THE F**** DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY”. This was my awakening to an afternoon nap. I listened attentively, trying to catch words of what was happening. Looking outside I realized it wasn’t my neighbors, it wasn’t the movie I fell asleep to. No, it was coming from my own home. Could it be, that even after our promises and aims to “be different” after we moved, to change and see change in ourselves- in our surroundings… that we truly are the same people. I swear, for a second I believed it was true.

We often tell ourselves that if we “truly believe something then it will come true”. We say “change is inevitable” and sometimes…. in the rarest of times, this can be a reality. But the truth really lies when our subconscious mind starts fiddling with bad habits- playing with thoughts and reoccurring actions. The truth is, we never really change just because we tell ourselves we do. We only start making new actions for our mind to trick our body into believing we are different people.

We are a people that cannot tell the difference between fiction and reality, constantly working and struggling, constantly thriving to be someone, but we are only hurting ourselves because we always end up going back to the people we used to be, we always lose the fight against the Impossible. We move, change our identity, take away our past…. but where does it go… no where. The Past stays right by our side, invisible temporarily, but then bounces back right when we least expect it.

Today, I decided it was time for a change. I was going to go for a run, and start eating healthy so that I would be fit over the Summer, but just like you would expect, the second I had the chance, I was sitting in my room watching Friends and eating a Cosmic Brownie. Today, my sister tried to make conversation with me from out of the blue, but just as I had expected that was all due to the fact that she only wanted to borrow my clothing. Today, my parents spent a day together shopping and bonding…. coming home, screaming at the top of their lungs and telling each other words no couple should ever tell eachother. This… this to me was so familiar that my body in fact reacted instincitively, knowing from the past exacltly how to act in this situation.

I shot up, my eye twitching and my ears blankening every other noise to try to understand what the most horrendous sound was. I kept still…quiet. They were fighting, about what? option 1. not buying the right groceries, option 2. money my family owed option 3. blaming the other for something they said…. option 2. My mothers high pitched voice ran throughout the house, and my fathers monstrous shouts made the hairs on my arm stand up. I heard the words, the swearing, the banging of doors. I heard the silence and then the return. I heard my heart beating faster, my head starting to throb. I felt the tears in my eyes start to whell up… but it was times like this that I had learned to put an armor up, for my sister, for myself. It was times like this where my mind, after all these years, had been built for these oh-so-familir attacks. I had two options for myself. option 1. Go into the room and show them how their fighting still affects their kids. option 2. Stay in my room till everyone goes to bed and then get something to eat for dinner…. no one was going to cook tonight… option 2. I knew they had lied…. telling me things were going to change… but they didn’t know that.   Just because we have moved to a different country does not make us different people. Their are lies behind each of our smiles because at the end of the day, my mind has been solidified and does not just”change” because we tell ourselves that.

I hurt from the pain people face around me. I thrive off of people’s happiness, but this Happiness comes rarely. Makes us Believe we are ok, we are doing something right. Then Past and Reality pitch up and we are back to square one. “Im used to it”…. that is a more relatable sentence then any I have heard. See… when I am still too sacred to go outside my room… when I still hate being home and hate being the only one to make a conversation… when I am still the one blamed and ridiculed… when I am still acting the same way as I did before I came here, then change really is not inevitable. It is just a word… a mechanism we use to lie to ourselves. It is just a way to explain how to move forth…. but not explain how we come right back.

Just because I am sick of the screams… does not mean they will ever stop, that I have had to learn the hard way.

I am who I am because of these reoccurrences. These generalities in my life, these … “ok, whats the net step” situations. I lie. I do things that satisfy my needs that my family could never, and that is how I have lived. I tell myself I’m different, and I go about my life doing things that make me Happy. But I always come back…. home… to the nightmares and sweaty palms… to the crying and arguments. I always come back to the places I know best, to the places that have occurred most frequently because that is all I know. Truth is reality… Belief is a thief that takes that away.


It’s all about waiting. Waiting for the day to end, waiting for your grades to come in, waiting for the right guy, waiting for summer, waiting for a flash of brilliance…. waiting for something. It’s a hard skill for me to have but I feel more fufilled when the wait is over. It’s one of those moments when you think it will never end in the moment but then after its passed you think, well that wasn’t so hard after all. I know what my priorities are but all I can think is I deserve some time to bask in the glory of being done. I have worked really hard these past few weeks and I think some time reflect on the stress and pain I went through is vital. I know my performance is saddening but at the same time I need to remember that the smarter people grow from their mistakes. Maybe I had a reasoning behind the answers I put, a clear argument as to why it is a plausible answer… I always do… but standardized tests have no room for plausibility…. it’s wrong or right. Which is why I could never be just a student…. with one goal to get good grades and to have the correct answer because I believe there is so much behind why something is the way it is. I could never believe that the answer I have is the only possible answer…. the world was not made like that…. it took several minds to make understanding. Several minds who started off with an absurd thought that eventually turned into reasoning. But before it was reasoning it was considered weird, out of norm, crazy. But someone today asked me “what’s the difference between crazy and a genius” … I have no “correct” answer to this… because maybe what you think is crazy will one day change the world. I’m trying so hard to fit into this society, to be accepted and thrive in the conditions but maybe what I need to accept is that all minds can’t accelerate in the same conditions. People are excellent in what they do when they fit the conditions best and maybe I’m not excellent but maybe that’s because I’m not in my thriving conditions. After taking three “you have no choice but to pass” exams this week I’m in a zone where I’m just done. I have experienced every sort of mental breakdown possible since I arrived here and I feel like Iv tackled the world. I know I have a lot to learn but that’s just it… schooling standards are not what I will bring into my life later on. Maybe the tactics and methods I used to fulfill my time, but content wise, the world doesn’t work off what piR squared is. 

Spending time for myself has been great for my to get to know myself, and the more I realize the more I want to be done. Summer is the next wait, but till then I just need to get through the obstacles. 
Breathing is also good.

Standardized Life 

A week of no sleep, swollen eyes, throbbing heads, and non stop accelerating. This week has been hell. With the exams that are supposed to determine my energy into college, into my dreams and into my future. These tests are my worst nightmare …. the foreigner in me speaks like a victim…. speaks as if abused and vulranable. But the past week, I have had to suck in my stomach from the tremor in my throat and give it all I got. I did, and I like to think today is my reward. A day to appeas myself for doing the best I could in a time of desperation. I may not have performed to my best ability, but I got through it…. I didn’t give up, and today I applaud myself with a fresh shower of manicures and facials. I can breath and the mindset I was in smells foal, but I’m ready to kickstart, ready for the next battle to be defeated. One step at a time, one step closer to freedom. 


It’s sort of like an addiction. The sudden flicker of lights from your phone or the pop up advertisements for “Selena Gomez and the Weekend, Watch now”. The way my instagram and Facebook feeds entice me, charm me, poison my hands from being productive. It’s like a drug, that you have to hide away so you can focus on the life ahead of you and not just “in front of you” 

Every excuse ends with “I deserve to take a break” or “its only being balanced, I need to keep my mind balanced”… four hours later… same excuse. 

IB students are notorious for procrastination. When studying for my biology exam, I found myself trying on dresses for prom a few moments later… how those two activities add up?

… I would love to know. 

That repetitive thought when the procrastination frenzy starts is … “I probably should…. ” which leads into excuses and complaints… and more 

Wow…. 12 am already, I should probably get to sleep 

… oh look Netflix! 

Our wretched minds 

They have mentally broken me. Swirled me up and washed me out, buried my hope and faith far beneath the surface. Taken creativity and inspiration and cut it into tiny pieces till it’s useless and must be thrown away. They have taken my mind and nailed it to a wall where the only way to be let free is to pull out the nails by yourself and watch the holes bleed. No time for pain, no time for life…. just go. Just succeed… just like that, no time to waste. I feel myself dead in a moving life where every step I take feels like trying to run in a body of water. Slow and unprogressuve, tiresome… exhausting. I drag my feet now, like forgetting they are a part of me and having to go back to fetch them. I forget a lot, I take in a lot. A system made for success has broken everything left in me. Perhaps I was not built for this mental climb, perhaps I was meant to be damned but this system is a punishment … not an education. The never ending anxiety of exams and tests leaves you breathless, desperate for a moment to breath before your entire heart collapses with rapid beats. My eyes have gone blind, from white screens and miniature pen on board. My hands have gone swollen, from novels of notes and bibles of sheduals… for the week. My mind, my wretched mind 
Has gone bleak and cold… and I find myself crossing off the things I will never be able to do because there is no more time… the future I will hold is inevitable, and it disgusts me the way a system made for success has broken all that I am. 

She Devil

Have you ever been in the mits of an unwelcoming presence, the kinda that every time you think of or mention makes the hairs on your arms stand up. Have you ever looked into someone’s eyes and felt so much uncomfort that it was unbearable to look at them anymore. Have you ever felt so… unwanted by someone who is supposed to know their role in life a lot better then they conceive. She’s a she devil… and she lives so close to me… to the things the are important to me and to me is a nightmare. 5 months in and “who am I to make them feel bad” well who am I to be dragged into the dungeon of a monsters  where she feeds of people’s hard work and joy and grinds it into dust particles where is no long can persist in her presence. Who am I to work 30-40 hours a week regardless of if I want to be here or not. Who am I? No one apparently. But even as a nobody I can see a control greedy, selfish bipolar confused maniac when I see one and unfortunately I have to see this one far too many times… that is until I get out of here. The day I am done is going to be the happiest day of my life… we will see who beast will prey on next then. 

Robot Library

When did our world become so robotic. I sit in the mist of a library, a castle filled with novels and tales and I hear no silence, no indulgence and wondering of words, I hear no absorption of readers and thoughts. Instead, I hear the click clack of skin to keys, the ignorance to think independently and the manipulation of bright screens in narrowed corners.