Rebirth: Cognito Ergo Sum

The Planner. Perfect marriage material. But completely wrong for me.
The Ape. A Perfect match. But lacking in vision and passion.
The Stranger. A work in progress. Should I follow through?

With the Planner, I always thought we would end up together, already knowing what we would name our kids and where we would get married, and what our wedding would be like. And logically, I know we would never work out. However, there's still some part of me that hopes beyond all reason. He picks me up when I am down. If only he hadn't pulled such a number on me. I honestly don't know why I let his words and actions affect me so much. I shouldn't have let him get to me. And yet in spite of what my conscious and subconscious mind appear to think, my heart is still saying "don't let go, hold on til the end" - but I'm not entirely sure that's what I intend to do.

The Stranger on the other hand, has potential. But in all honesty, I just don't see us going anywhere. Perhaps that is just because I don't know him that well. Maybe I should give him a shot.

I want to drown, in a deep, dark abyss and submerge myself in a black cloud of sorrow and despair. Isolate myself from the world. Succumb to my wailing desperation. Swim in these dark pools of blood-stained madness. I want to lost myself and be reborn. I was not meant for such melancholic non-sense. I was meant to dive into darkness and emerge among the skies, following a thunderous storm, with a rainbow shining brightly. Dripping with water, renewed by the light, my heart patched up all over again, stronger and sturdier with every heartbreak. Determination growing deep inside of me: I can be whoever I want to be. I am in charge (and therefore responsible) of my own actions. I am in charge of my own attitude. "I think, therefore I am" - Cognito Ergo Sum.

What's the world coming to?

2 year old girl passed by 18 other people before one woman decides to help the little girl out. Where has the morality of the world gone to? Am I living in a little bubble? How could I have been that naive and idealistic to think this world is worth saving? Ah..maybe it still is...

HOPE by: Emily Dickinson

Hope is the thing with feathers 

That perches in the soul, 

And sings the tune--without the words, 

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard; 

And sore must be the storm 

That could abash the little bird 

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land, 

And on the strangest sea; 

Yet, never, in extremity, 

It asked a crumb of me.

Escondida

Escondida, me ahogo en el fondo de mi alma,
Gritando en silencio y desesperación.
Me encuentro con mi propia sombra
compartiendo esta solitud eterna.

Las murallas crecen y rodean mi corazón
Las cadenas aprietan, asegurados por un candado.

Destinada a refugiarme dentro de estos muros,
La sangre que fluye, limitada, ocultando mis sentimientos.
Las lágrimas no se me paran de salir,

Perdida, lo busco en mis sueños
en una nube de recuerdos
hasta que el fantasma de angustia  y dolor
desvanece.