We are constantly drawing lines. Defining our limits, relationships, and essentially our lives, we hope to get somewhere by drawing lines anywhere and everywhere we see fit. These lines seem to do nothing more than tie us down, an act that under normal circumstances we would hate but seem to accept if it defines something. As we are constantly changing, and as the lines in the sand wash or blow away, we scramble and try to draw new ones. The question remains, then, that if all lines drawn will fade with time, why draw them at all? Our unquenched desire to have everything clearly defined always seems to lead to frustration and unnecessary stress. It would seem natural to eliminate these lines, but that which is natural is hardly ever appealing.

I hate lines. Much more prefer squiggles myself.

I have gotten this far because of the strong women before me and feel that it is my duty to be a strong woman for those yet to come.

After telling someone a secret last week I felt on top of the world. (And I still do)
Thanks for being an amazing brother.

With a very sobering “Who are you?” I was drunkenly jolted back to the recognition that I have no need to define myself to those who are too immature to understand. Please don’t confine me to a category. My answer was “J9″ and, for him, it was good enough.

“Are you happy with the person you are?”

“More so now than ever before”

Thanks.

My favorite color is red. I am really tall. I am perhaps too honest. Consider that your warning. People who take pictures of themselves in the mirror make me sick and are too self-absorbed. People who make harsh judgments about others without actually knowing them make me sick as well. I guess then, I make myself sick. I am not here to impress you. I am afraid of Jesus people and do not support Christian rock of any sort. I feel as though if you are going to follow a religion you should do it in a respectful manner. I do not follow a religion, but believe that all of them have good guidelines (very few of which I ever follow). I don’t do well around people who value materialistic goods more than the life of a fellow man or woman. I don’t do well around people who are intense, in any way, shape, or form but at the same time I can’t be around people who aren’t passionate about anything. I feel as though age, race and gender are merely labels we put on others to cut them out of our realm of acceptance and love. I love acceptance and fear love. I am scared of a lot of things. Birds are the first on the list of things that I fear, followed by The Blue Man Group, Michael Jackson and ovens. I have been to Spain and it has changed my life in an amazing way (even though while I was in Spain I was miserable most of the time). When I am miserable I generally find humor in the situation, thus making those around me more aggravated because they are upset and I am laughing. I am fed-up with living in these United States, if we can even legitimately call them that, and ultimately dream of moving to a culture less driven by money and power. I haven’t had a phone for about a month and have been surviving just fine. I think it is very annoying when people say “I couldn’t survive without my phone!” because, in reality, I’m sure that you’d make it through the day. I think it is annoying how reliant we are on technology. I don’t carry things with me, but if I do, it’s never what you’d expect (or would find useful for that matter). Most of my friends don’t understand me. I don’t really understand myself, so I can’t hold that against them. What I do understand is how I feel, and this is the motivation for all of my actions. I do how I feel. Without question. Every time. I blindly believe that everything happens for a reason, yet I don’t believe in fate. I use this belief to rationalize my actions. Also, I want to make my own fate. I want to do a lot of things. I want to be fluent in Spanish. I want to learn French and Arabic as well. Sometimes I tell people that I am Cuban, and sometimes they believe me. I am at my happiest when people believe in me. I don’t tell people a lot of things because I fear that they won’t believe in me. I can’t handle any more people not believing in me. My family is more important to me than I’d usually admit. We always find a way to be there for one another, despite our drastic differences. I feel as though there are some differences that cannot be worked through. I feel as though any differences that can be worked through aren’t so much worked through as understood. I understand a pretty comprehensive amount of things. I write when I can’t speak. I write all day, every day. I write because I feel as though I do not have anybody in my life that will take me seriously and listen to a god damned word I have to say. Either that or I believe nobody really cares what I have to say. If you matter you will ask about this. If not, just call me J9.

I don’t want to be your friend. Take back anything I’ve ever said to you, because I dont feel that way anymore. I dont want be your friend, I don’t want to fake this chit-chat bullshit acquaintance knowledge of each other. I don’t want you to be around and I don’t want to be around you. I don’t want to know you and I don’t want to know you exist.

She doesn’t do her hair and only wears make-up because it is lying around. She’d never buy her own. She’s small, but could kick your ass in a heartbeat and will if you give her any lip. She stands up for what she believes in, which usually isn’t much anymore. She has lost her soul- but don’t worry she’ll get it back one of these days. Her strength amazes me and she hides a lot more than she’d like for you to know. She has gone from being mocked and made fun of for her looks in her younger years to being one of the most beautiful girls I know. She will giggle and be silly, but in the next moment be political and opinionated. She impresses people with her intelligence and can do better than the world expects. This girl very well could be President one day, but thinks America is full of shit and wouldn’t lie enough to get to the top. She is a reincarnate of a dead hippy and possibly showers less than I do. To her, every baby animal is the cutest thing she’s seen. She steals, but only from big corporations, and she honestly believes that makes it ok. She’d sacrifice her life for those she loves, and has been doing exactly that for practically her entire life. When she gets older, it is commonly understood that I will be the one to take care of her. She is undervalued and underappreciated. She’s doing everything she can to survive this messed up world, but sometimes allows the messed up world get to her. Every thing she has learned about life has been learned the hard way and it’s simply not fair. She used to be this total hard ass but now honestly enjoys arts and crafts. Don’t let that fool you, because this girl knows more about the wild side of life than you ever will. She is very giving and takes care of people like her mother taught her to. She doesn’t listen to her mother, but calls her on a weekly basis just to check in. She hates what her sister represents but will stick up for her over anybody else in a heartbeat. While you sleep in on Saturday morning she walks to the local organic market and buys her weekly groceries. She pushes herself beyond her limit and is proud of her past. Her family is royally screwed up, but you’d never know it. She has gone through so much and, while deep down she probably still has open wounds from it, she’d never tell. She is one of the happiest people on the outside, but has some real issues to deal with. I’d give my life for her without a second thought to it, mainly because she deserves more than the world can give her, but I think she has the right to take all she can get from it.

La noche no es tan obscuro que mis ojos cuando te veo. No sé que hacer pero yo sé que necesito hacer algo. Cuando te veo, la veo, y no quiero mirar ella. Yo sé que ella estaba aquí antes de yo. No quiero saber que ella estaba aquí antes de yo. No quiero ella estaba aquí. No quiero ella estaba. No le quiero. No te quiero. No quiero a quererte, pero te quiero.

This is what I do in sociology class because it is condusive to a good sociology grade.

Dicen con tiempo este dolor va a desaparecer. Con tiempo voy a olvidar eso. No debo olvidar eso. Disgusta. No debíste hacer eso. No hagas eso. Nunca.

I am coming to realize that world has more of an egocentric stand point than I previously believed. While it always has been accepted for children to make moral judgments from egotistical stand points, like car seats and onesies, this is something expected to be grown out of. Consideration for others is something preached to us at a young age so that we can move on from our old ways of infancy. For some this movement is expectedly easier than others. According to Piaget, it is expected for us to move out of this egocentric mind set in our primary school years. Many people thought that Piaget overestimated the level of egocentrism in children. Should we be anything but shocked, then, to learn that there are full grown adults struggling to move on?

While egocentrism may be perceived to mean any level of things, the egocentrism present in children should not be considered a bad thing. Many people think of egotistical people when they hear about egocentric people. While the two are parallel on many levels, they are by no means the same word. Children who are egocentric do not have a theory of mind, meaning they cannot see things from others point of view. Those who are egotistical are capable of understanding other mind sets, but they merely choose to disregard it. Neither of which are necessarily a good quality to say you possess, but one undoubtedly is worse than the other.

The point I’m getting at here is to question how prevalent egocentrism is in those past childhood. Have we not grown past the age of the inability to understand the feelings of others? Maybe Piaget was not overestimating but rather underestimating the level of egocentrism in us all.

When recently speaking with a friend, they pointed out that no matter how badly someone treats a friend of theirs, they will be unconditionally nice to the wrong doer. After all, the mean person never was rude to them directly, only a friend. Additionally, another friend of mine excessively out of their way to help someone who has on multiple occasions been horribly mean to their best friend. This friend of mine saw it as acceptable because the person never was mean to them personally and on top of that never once said a bad thing about the best friend to them. How is it that we find these attitudes acceptable?

When someone deliberately and consistently hurts one of my friends, I cannot help but have hard feelings for that person. Even if that person never offended me personally, I feel such a close bond to my friends that in hurting them I feel like they are hurting me as well. I assumed that this feeling was universal, but I am slowly learning that it clearly is not.

Maybe it is wrong of me to shut out people that hurt my friends? Maybe it is wrong to shut out any people at all? But then again, how far does the offensive action have to go before people will be willing to stand up and make a point against someone? How strong of a bond do friends have to have in order for one to stand up for the other?

I don’t have any answers. I just ask the questions.

Essentially, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you, and while I have recently learned that the reciprocal is not there, it doesn’t change my statement.

I fear that I scare people off with how honest I am. I wish that we all could just be truthful and then I wouldn’t seem as strange.

People say that time heals everything, but I’m not sure that I was allocated enough time on Earth to heal this one.