The reflection continues on this 15th day of January. It’s a
quiet night. I’m doing my usual, listening to my favorite artist, Damien Rice,
thinking, and writing. It’s a soothing experience. I tend to become melancholy
at night. His music goes so well with my mood. It’s a new year, one that is off
to a slow start. I don’t have any major updates to share except, I’ve been on
an interview for an ESL teaching position. The wait continues. I am still
crafting and hoping to get that off the ground; hoping to someday sell my
items. I watched my favorite painter, Bob Ross on TV and he said something that
really touched my soul. He said, and I am paraphrasing here, that “it’s not
about the pocketbook,” but about someone wanting to buy something you made. He
expressed how happy he felt when he sold his first painting for $20. It wasn’t
the amount of money he cared about, it was the fact someone wanted something he
made. It’s refreshing to know I am not alone in that sentiment. I never cared
about money even when I taught. It was about the love for teaching, the love of
creativity and expression.
That’s how I feel when I craft. It makes me happy. I
am not perfect at it, who is anyway? However, I enjoy the ideas that come to
mind and actually bringing it to life. That alone makes me smile, as well as my
love for cardboard! Lately, collecting cardboard boxes have become a hobby. I
use it for my crafts, and I am amazed by its versatility. The excitement is
either finding it, or asking a store owner for it. I’ve made friends in the
process, and met some folks who gave me strange looks. I don’t mind. I have
pictures of my art on my phone just in case someone doesn’t believe me. I also
like to explore new places and where there’s places there are stores. Stores
get deliveries, they have cardboard. I’ve been lucky and now have various stores
I can go to make such a request. In general, I like collecting stuff. Metrocards
is part of that stuff.
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Besides crafting and endless job hunting (which I hate, it’s one of the
not-so-fun things to do), I write. As of late, I’ve been writing a lot but
mainly for self. I haven’t felt inspired to share my inner thoughts with anyone.
A sad reality for me lately is I am losing more people in my life than gaining.
I had an argument with a dear friend before the holidays and now our friendship
is over. Although, I felt we were growing apart, it’s still sad. I always feel
bad losing a friend, especially if I’ve known them for years. Every time I
trust someone enough to share my feelings, there’s some form of backlash. Sometimes
it’s petty and sometimes it’s not, but when the trust is broken it hurts me.
When I am hurt, I walk away. I rather do that than to argue. It’s not good for
the spirit. I pray also. Prayer gives me strength. I do believe everything
happens for a reason, and not everyone is meant to stay in your life. Although
I understand that is a part of life, it still bothers me. I’m tired of getting
hurt.
As 2015 entered, I celebrated with my family. We prayed and thanked God
for allowing us to be together. I wished some friends a happy happy via text
and social media. Soon after, I wrote out my goals for January on a dry erase
board, wrote in my journal, and went to bed. I became sick after Christmas, so
New Year’s Eve was a relaxing one. No partying for me, I drank ginger ale. I’m
just now getting over whatever it was that was bothering me. 
I don’t know where this journey is taking me. I often wonder about
that. Sometimes, I feel I am grasping at air because I can’t obtain the things
I need (and want). I am not healthy and doing what I can to change that. I
strive to remain happy and motivated when at times I cannot see the light.
I feel lost yet I’m stubborn and won’t give up. There are those days when
sleeping late, watching silly comedies, and eating snacks is comforting. Then
reality sets in. There’s work to do, things to create, inspirational stuff to
read, and putting a smile on the face despite the tears trying to fall. I avoid
looking at the mirror because I don’t feel beautiful right now. I look at
pictures of how I was as motivation, a reminder that I can regain my life back.
I just have to work harder, find a new path, pray more, and remain in faith.
This is a hard journey, it’s real and I couldn’t fake it if I tried. Yet I am
here and there is a reason for that. I am grateful as the journey continues.
