English And Literature 

          So because of the well known fact that one day, I, myself, will be one of New York Times best selling authors (kidding, see picture above) I was thinking that I should get started by writing. No, I’m not going to college for English or literature, and no my writing is not the best, but hey, I’m a work in progress. And I believe in myself which is what counts right? I feel that during the course of this blog I have learned a lot. Like the difference  between loose and lose. And also bare and bear. English is weird. But nonetheless I love reading it! 
          I plan on creating another blog where I can publish short stories and maybe chapter books. One chapter per post of course. Maybe one day I can go to college get the education everyone so calls “a must” and know how to write professionally. But for now I have a blog. And that will do pig, that’ll do. I just love writing. And I don’t want to be working a scheduled job all my life. Writing a book is my dream. It would actually be a dream come true, and you never know, it could happen.

I’ve been saying this quote since I was five

48 Hours 

             In the past 48 hours I have cried, laughed, and puked my guts out. It’s been really difficult. I never thought it would be this hard. I can only imagine what my mother must be feeling. This is at the same time devastating but at the same time it’s good that it has happened. 

             We woke up yesterday more nervous than I had ever been in my life. I almost had to talk myself into believing that what was going on was actually a reality and not just another fucked up screwed up dream. I kept thinking to myself, maybe this isn’t what’s supposed to happen. And it’s not. No one should ever go through this, and I’m sorry if you have. I understand and I feel your pain. I, myself, had never felt anything like this before. 


             Watching my mom lay on the hospital bed crushed my soul. I felt scratching and tearing in my throat like a bear clawing it’s way out of it’s cave from hibernation. Like a big ball of fire. I wanted to push all the nurses away and yell at them that what they were doing was wrong, she couldn’t go through this. 


            Once she was given something to relax she felt better. If only I would have been givin something similar. She was so relaxed because she even fell asleep. But she was still in a state of consciousness, because when I saw her like that so peaceful and sound asleep, I started to cry, and she said, “it’s going to be ok”. Which made me cry even harder. 

            How could something like this happen to a person like her? How could this happen to anyone?  She didn’t deserve to pass though this. No one actually does. It’s so humiliating. But the nurses and the doctor were so kind which made verything feel way better. But I couldn’t hold it in any longer. All the tears came flying out like bullets patiently awaiting to be propelled by the pull of the trigger.

              I was with her for about three hours before she had to go into the surgery. I didn’t want to leave her side. I almost ran back and asked if they were sure we weren’t dreaming. Maybe it had been a mistake? But it was real, and it felt so real. It’s still does. Because it is. Once I stepped out to the lobby I saw all our friends there. 

             If I would have stayed there I would have cried to death in front of them, and I had to be strong for my brother, and also for me. So I went outside. Got some food and came back to thank them once I had gotten it all together. Their heart warming words almost tore me apart. They were nice but they kept reminding me how unfair life was. 

            Then, about two hours later, I got called that she had come out and everything was fine. I almost ran to the recovery room. The nurses that were there were also very supportive. Reassuring me that everything turned out great and she was going to be fine. I told everyone else and they were happy to hear that just as I. 

            They took her to her room. Where we sat together for an hour before she decided she was ready for visits. Then they came, brought her a nice card, and some roses. I thought that was really thoughtful. But it’s what you always do right? I just wasn’t waiting for it. 



           We told the nurse if we could stay, my brother, my friend (Gabriel), and his aunt, who is out neighbor over night. The nurse said it would be a problem. The night gave us more highs and lows. I couldn’t stand seeing my mom in pain and not being able to do anything. The nurse was very kind and was always asking if she needed more medicine. 

             Once we got through the night she felt better in the morning. We went out to eat around 8 AM. When we came back I had a killer migraine. Then I started feeling nausea. I had eaten a salad. But soon it had came back shooting straight back out. Went to a pharmacy next door to get pain pills and they worked for the headache but I still puked some later on. . 

             She was released around 2:30pm today. The drive back was excruciating because every little bump in the road was like hell for her. Once she was settled in her bed, I took Gabriel home and headed for her pills. I had to wait an hour but I got the chance to buy her hand sanitizer and a neck pillow. Also a cute little stuffed dog. 


            Now, we are on the road to recovery. I’m glad the surgery is over but I hate seeing my mom like this. She is a strong, independent, caring, innocent, loving, kind, warmhearted woman who has done the impossible to raise me and my brother. She will get through this. She will get better, and she will be better. Because she is my mom. And I know she can do the impossible. 

It’s Just A Dream

So Journal, 

      It’s is official. I am part of a company now. Not any important or valued position of course, (mind you it’s just a warehouse). With a salary that’s close to minimum wage I won’t get any where in life, but it’s what I get for not going to college (or better said, dropping out. Or better better said, not continuing my education. That sounds less pain ful to hear). 


     Any way, the point is I have a secure job (for now) that has good benefits and nice pay. The orientation was good, not boring at all (no sarcasm intended). They provided food and drinks and a lunch so I felt really welcome. Now I’m officially an Inventory Associate. 

     But, that’s not what I really want to be doing with my life. I have always loved reading books. I love how words can transport your mind somewhere else meanwhile your body is still fixed to the real world. I love the stories and the descriptions of the writers. It’s like my own little movie in my head. The script is laid out and I’m directing it my in mind. 

     So, basically what I want to be doing (if some how I become rich) is an author. I want to write books. I want to tell stories. I want people to feel the words I place on paper and to imagine what I was painting for them. I want to touch hearts and also make people think and wonder. I want people to be hooked on what they are reading. To pick up one of my books and not be able to put it down. To write something different something unique

     I understand that it takes a lot of education to become a well enough writer. Which makes my dream really far and distant. I obviously don’t have any money to get the education I need to have “superior language skills” to be a writer. I have so many ideas I have so many stories ready to be spread amongst thousands and thousands of pieces of paper. I just don’t know how to get started. How do you make a dream into a reality , when it’s just a dream? 

     Every single book I have read it mentions how the author came from this or that university and has a masters in this and that. Never have I ever read a book from someone that just graduated high school and had a New York Times best seller. Though, maybe I can be the first one? That would be a stretch! (A very powerful, long, elástic, rubberband kind of stretch). 

     Either way I shall keep the dream alive and keep Journaling, It’s a nice vent and I love writing. 

2/21/2017