What’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever eaten?
Ceviche, ceviche, ceviche you are a national treasure to me your origin is mysterious your taste is juicy and tasty ceviche, ceviche, ceviche, you are an explosion of ecstacy because you feel like youβre making love to my mouth with every bite I melt inside
to see my american dream I just need to step into my backyard and look at my holy trinity who call me mom theyβre the ones I try to better myself for theyβre the one who make my immigrant existence worth living for theyβre my american dream wrapped up in burps, dark humor and love
If you were forced to wear one outfit over and over again, what would it be?
This is the most terrible prompt on WordPress to be honest. Perhaps this is coming from a place of vanity since the only thing that made me seriously consider the convent was the thought of wearing the same outfit the rest of my life. In fact, here’s a poem I wrote about it.
βMy vice
On a sunny day, I was angry and running and said, βwho the fuck needs menβ and I thought about joining the convent I could definitely take a vow of celibacy but then I remember their vow of poverty And I canβt become a poor person again Sure God will understand Iβm made for starbucks And pretty dresses from amazon And to take a vow of modesty would feel like an atrocity a crime against my humanity I could never tone down my beauty I look too good in a bikini so for now Iβll have to settle for a secular life because being a spoiled and pretty girl is my vice
I couldn’t even wear this banging outfit the rest of my life.
Anyways, WordPress needs to do better with their prompts. πββοΈπββοΈπββοΈ
As I’m thinking about this answer, two teachers come to mind. One is my 11th Grade English Mrs.Idica and the other is my college professor of creative writing, Dr.Blais.
Who knows what would have happened to these two if it wasn’t for Mrs.Idica πππ
I took Mrs.Idica’s Asian American Lit and Creative Writing class my junior year of high school. I did really well in my creative writing class but almost flunked the Asian American lit class. I remember not liking her too much at first because she pushed us to do our best and was strict. I think I did well in the creative writing class because I really loved writing poems and little short stories. At the time, I didn’t think it was something I’d ever be passionate about but of course the class did have a great impact on me, here’s a poem I wrote in that class:
Mrs.Idica ended up being my homebound teacher when I was on maternity leave with my first son at the beginning of my senior year.Β That meant that for 6 weeks, she came to my house to give me my school assignments and helped me with them if I needed help. She would stay and talk to me and always encouraged me to drop out of high school and to continue on. This was important for me to hear as there was pressure from people in my family to drop out and work.Β She could have easily just dropped off my work and not have these conversations with me but instead she showed up with the compassion and grace I needed during a really dark time in my life. She also had the patience of the saint as I trudge through my school assignments since I was an terrible student. She never gave up on me or told me my life was ruined because I had a child at such a young age. In fact, she was one of the few people who didn’t shame me and reminded me my child was a gift. The encouragement from her and her belief in me really made a difference in my life. I don’t believe I would have put so much effort that last year in high school and graduated on time. I think what made her not just a great but exceptional teacher was that she was caring, had the patience of a saint, and was this light of compassion and encouragement for me when I needed it. This is a poem I wrote about her:
I also want to say that I’m still in touch with her through social media where I share updates about my life and my writing. Even now, she tells me she’s proud of me and that means a lot to me.
Right after taking Dr.Blais class
Another teacher in my life who was exceptional was my creative writing professor Dr. Blais. Like Mrs.Idica, she pushed us to do our best in the class and provided a safe space for us to express ourselves creatively.I also learned to be super disciplined with my writing in her class and the editing process. She was very patient with us and in her class I wrote 3 plays and both of them won 2nd and 3rd place in the college writing competition which meant a lot to me since it was the first time I was writing plays. She also encouraged me to continue writing and even invited me to one of her playwright workshop groups but I couldn’t go due to family obligations. Also, her class was my favorite escape from my busy mom life that included 2 small kids and 3 part time jobs at the time. It was a crazy time in my life where my mental health was a bit touch and go but going to Dr.Blais class helped me cope. Like, Mrs.Idica,Β Dr.Blais saw potential in me and encouraged me and was incredibly patient in kneading the writer out of me. I think taking her class validated my passion for writing. Especially when the last assignment was making a book which I titled “My Quarter Life Crises” . I felt accomplished in making that little book of my poems and plays. Here’s a link to one of the plays I wrote in her class:
Unfortunately, I lost touch with my Dr.Blais after college and can’t seem to find her anywhere.Β Last I heard is that she’s had success as a playwright in New York.
I think I’ve been incredibly fortunate to have had two educators show up in my life who made a positive impact on effect. It doesn’t always happen that way (thinking about my super condescending English professor at UGA- but that’s another blog post) . It’s hard to imagine who I would have become without both of them.
july, july, july itβs the month where I lose my mind the heat gets to me and turns up the BSC in me you wonβt find me sweet and eager to please in July you wonβt find me full of ruffles and flowery phrases in poetry youβll find me being a ball of immigrant rage and fury youβll find me a woman whoβs had enough of the American dream bullshit and ready to roar and scream out everything wrong with this country
WordPress Prompt: What are you most worried about for the future?
Things I’m currently crashing out about:
Finances-I’m in a financial hole due to loss income and medical debt. I’ve been in denial for such a long time about it but today I didn’t even have enough to cover my rent so I had to ask my other roommates for their share and one of them will move out soon. It’s been keeping up at night but I know I’ll dig myself out as I have done before. It just fucking sucks for now and makes me feel like a complete and utter failure. But there’s no time for me to lament and whine, I need to take action now and I’m doing it. I have to have blind faith that I’ll be fine and there is a light at the end of these really dark economic times.
CPTSD symptoms: Triggered cause of the heat, the stress and this time of the year. I’m managing not to have a total and complete emotional relapse by exercising, drinking my water and minding my business, watching movies with really pretty people in them, and acknowledging what’s happening by talking to close friends and writing. I honestly feel like if someone came up to me and gave me $10000, my CPTSD would completely disappear but that’s not real life. I’m trying to do better because last week I was a complete bitch to one of my friends and she didn’t deserve it. I apologized and owned up to it but damn I still feel bad about it.
And of course, existing while Latina in this country. With all the shit that’s happening I worry about my family members and myself. I try to take it day by day but the anxiety gets at 100 when I see a new headline pop up especially the latest one about stripping citizenship from U.S citizens. I have to laugh because one) I’m too medicated to cry and two) it’s really not worth getting so upset about something out of my control.
I haven’t done a WordPress Prompt in a minute and this one just gnawed and gnawed at me and I was like, hell, maybe I’ll feel better screaming into the void especially now that my nature spot is ruined. R.I.P my special creek. I hope that the next time I answer a WordPress prompt, it’s something where I answer the question and I’m a lot happier. I hope that in three months, I’ll look back on this post and I can see that I’ve made a lot of progress and I feel more balanced and hopeful and I can say, well, I made it and I’m more than okay. IF not, at least I will have written a lot more poems and stories.
denial sits in the pit of my gut but I disguise it with a smile and trips to the zoo act like domestic bliss is heaven when inside Iβm trembling with rage
envuelta en un ciclo de nostalgia cartas y fotos viejas y mΓΊsica de los 90 tratando de acordarme de quien fui Antes de me convertirme la madre de alguien
as long as there is breath left in me I will try try to be a good mom to my kids try to tell my story try to love everyone the best way i can try to find understanding for what happened to me try to find joy in the most ordinary of moments try to dance my way through my most depressive episodes try find my inner peace and calm
hold onto hope, donβt let go one day youβll laugh about this one day youβll be okay hold onto hope, donβt let go Remember all of the times youβve been strong Remember all of the times you put one foot in front of the other hold onto hope, donβt let go your story is still being written youβre still in time to change your narrative
quizΓ‘s es tiempo que le pida a la luna que te olvides de mi que pares de insistir en resucitar nuestro cuento de amor porque siempre vamos a querer cosas diferentes tu quieres una conexiΓ³n superficial lleno de noches apasionadas y sabanas mojadas mientras que yo deseo algo profundo y puro una conexiΓ³n sΓ³lida que me inspirara mejorar y evolucionar quizΓ‘s es tiempo que le pida a la luna que ya no me busques porque por mas que yo quisiera mi corazΓ³n no se deja ablandar para ti por mas que lo intente
lately I hate everything I have written Sometimes I get the urge to burn Or delete everything but something tells me this is how I know Iβm growing Iβm evolving in my craft