I could look into those eyes all day long ,
You don’t have to speak they already sing my favorite song .
Like falling into the deepest depths of the ocean without fear or doubt .
Your garden eyes keep my heart dancing in slow motion .
I smile from ear to ear , I really can’t help it .
You rescued my lonely heart from a cold world .
I know you accept it
and even when I don’t love myself you lift me up and adjust my crown, you tell me how amazing i am till you’ve removed my frown .
I swear I’ve never had a love so
Rita waited at the bus stop while listening to her favorite song.
The cool brisk air caressed her skin, her thoughts were her escape, so what can go wrong .
She couldn’t help but to tap her small feet to the rhythm of the beat .
Every lyric flowing naturally from her frigid chapped lips .
For a moment she’s not sitting, shes flowing similar to the wind that dances on the water making the sail boats gracefully sway .
The way the trees move their branches providing breeze for every inhabitant.
Rita shortly forgets the pain she once endured on this journey called life .
Although the memories stay in the filing cabinets of her vivid mind .
The present moment is where she belongs ,singing her favorite song .
Are everyone’s first blog experience kind of nerve wrecking ? Anyone in the world can read your thoughts , Things that you never get the chance to communicate are on an empty white space on the internet . Lets see how weird this gets ! Before you learn about why I am on here and the random ideas hanging out in the garden of my comedic/sad/wild mind , first id like you to understand where i came from because i still have no fucking idea . At least I’m honest about it , some people are out their calling themselves 5% Navajo , 2%Scottish 40% Sicilian . Maybe they went on a family tree website , or maybe there’s an elder in the family who remembers everything that crosses there eyes . I can’t even tell you who my cousins are or how many i have . Sometimes it bothers me of how distant my family is but there are times where i can appreciate the solitude . Even though i didn’t have much of a creative escape growing up i think i turned out alright , HA But before you find that i out , id like you to know more about my wild parents .
My father was in his 20’s when he made his way from Guatemala to California looking for a better life . Him and a friend held on the side of a train filled with cargo with no food , no water and no guarantee that they would get to their destination . Unfortunately this is common for men, women and children to ride on top and in between the boxcars to cross the border . Many of them are severely injured or die of dehydration and hunger . Along the long walk through mountains after the train ride many women are raped , mugged , kidnapped and murdered . My Father somehow managed to make it to the U.S safely . His friend died on the way . Not knowing much English , he battled the daily struggles of an immigrant who just wanted something better out of life . Along his new journey he met my mother . I don’t know my fathers story as well as my mothers because when I was old enough to understand these concepts he was out of my life (I’ll tell you more about that later on) .
My Mother was 15 when my Grandmother left her in Honduras to fend for her self . There she joined the police academy and had to learn what being independent was all about . During that period she fell in love with an Italian architect who had an assignment in the area . He swept her off her feet although he had a wife and kids back in Italy .After months of dating she gave birth to my oldest Brother, but at the age of 3 his father had to return to his other family . They never saw him again , he left my mother enough money to go to the U.S . My brother and my mom took a plane Tijuana and from there crossed the border together . If it wasn’t for the rain that night , immigration would have caught both of them . Imagine a little boy and his mother in a river trying to be as still as possible to avoid getting caught . She left behind her 2-year-old daughter with plans of coming back for her .
I was blessed enough to be born in the states , although my parents struggled financially . I can’t say that I was ever homeless or sleeping in shelters , my mother provided and my father worked several jobs to maintain a roof over our heads . I am sure my oldest brothers upbringing was the toughest . After my parents realized how bad Los Angeles was during that time . They both decided to head to Cleveland, Ohio . My mother was leaving her entire family behind in California and my Dad was convinced by his sister to leave the west Coast . Wasn’t a hard decision due to the crime rate and earthquakes in Cali . Cleveland was my new home , New is good but it also meant new problems , new trials and new adversity .