I let my nails grow.
I paint them with the pixie dust that fall from the fairies in my backyard.
I want to speak, but I learned a few things.
If I’m silent like a mouse, my hearing becomes sharper
And I’ll learn better than the mouth who hunts
all at once.

I let my grays grow.
I allow them their passage within my black strands like ornamental streamers
For they retell the wisdom that teaches how darkness beds with the light.
Do you like absence?
It’s where we find ourselves, stark and naked
built like the sacred nature of trees.

The world is beautiful,
but they didn’t tell you this because they wanted to ruin it for you too.
The black magic of which we fight against.
A mashed-up world of thoughts and identities hide in the crisis
Of the bloodstream from all the things you were told, you believed you were not.

How can I tell you the world is beautiful?
We learn to appreciate it late.  The wind, water, the rocks,
And the soil are boundless in a way where we can’t measure on earth
’til we leave this place.  But, until then, let’s love the world today.


Missing Myself

Camera 360

Here’s the truth:  Over the course of 2 months I’ve lost interest in everything.  A big part of this happened due to the unexpectedness of life and mostly because I was losing what I consider to be my identity at the core to strange and newer thoughts and to feelings I would never even give a seed to sprout from.

I went from power poses to vulnerable ones.  I went from an assertive voice to a squeak of a mouse.  I went from eating like a beast to eating like a tiny bird.  I went from being sure and proud of every decision I come to make up to now to drowning in what others wanted for me over night.  And how was I not myself?

It wasn’t until this week where I started to listen to music again.  It wasn’t until this week where I let nature come into my heart once more and touch my face and allowed it to perk up every one of my senses again while I paced myself from short travels or long city walks.

The only thing that has gotten me out of bed has been the productivity, the goal of going to school to get one degree so I can get another.  And it’s whatever works, whatever gets you through to the next day so one doesn’t feel reckless.  But I’m still out of control, I’m still holding onto negative views and I’m out of order when it comes to concentration.  It’s completely unlike me and if it wasn’t for my inner strength I would imagine I’d let go because all I feel is alone.

The last few nights I’ve taken mere opportunities to perform some bodyweight squats because in the back of my head I’ve brainwashed myself to move it or lose it.  Not too long ago before I knew what I knew I had taken a week off from having a troubling head/chest cold and Dark Knight being the strict personal trainer he is at the time made sure to pat and grope my ass to say, “Just checking.  It still feels firm.”  And of course I could have cursed him out and brought up the double standard views of genders except I didn’t because I understand what it means to be this way.  But the reality is there are countless factors that determine how quickly strength or physical looks are to diminish and I’m not within that realm of possibility.

Now I have to be smart and heal from the procedure I had on Monday.  I’m looking at (hopefully) another 2 weeks and if lifting heavy steel wasn’t an issue enough, there’s the not having actual penetration part either.  Oh goodie!

I could only remember the last few workouts I had in the beginning weeks of January.  One was working out with an acquaintance of mine (I forced him) and we worked out upper body until I caught a dead arm and until he pretty much tapped out on going set after set.  After we were done I had to pressure him to hydrate like a camel and eat something because he was coming down with chills as he did his best to try and keep up with me for every single static hold, rep, pyramid set and every other compound exercise while losing track of time.  We never made it to the movies.  But I was high and delighted as if I had an orgasm with merry smiles. Fuck me! I even caught people wishing they could be my training partner since the eyes never lie.

I remember the second workout was in my house where I supersetted (E-Z Curl) Small Barbell 40lbs (all I have at home) Squats with Push ups for as many sets as I could give as I was struggling to breathe still from a really bad hacking cough and lungs constricted where I needed my asthma pump from time to time.  Then I threw in Pauline Nordin’s The Butt Bible right after that workout to make sure I felt as if I worked all angles on my legs and glutes.  It did the trick because after all was done I felt orgasmic and wiped out once again.

I’m quick to believe for a moment (due to freaking out!) that once I reach a certain degree of shit that I can’t turn back and do what I used to do the way I’ve always done it (which is total bullshit by the way)!  It makes me as happy as receiving oral sex to now eagerly daydream about going back to the gym.  I feel I’m ready mentally, not yet physically.  But I can’t wait to bring a new attitude and vigor to my sets with various movements.  I can’t wait to steal the limelight from others who are working next to me.  I can’t wait until I feel somewhat sexy again.  I can’t wait to feel the blood pumping throughout my body making me feel beastly and edgy and powerful.  I can’t wait!

It’s strange to feel like I’m sitting on the bench for something that was out of my control.  I don’t ask life why anymore.  I stopped that.  One reason is because it sounds beyond melodramatic and I’m sure there are lessons in place for me as much as there are mistakes.  But even though I told myself not to deny anything I feel during this delicate emotional and mental moment I have to move slow although I really just want to move on to a different chapter in my life.

Still I have a friendly jealousy towards all the amazing people who are working out currently and I get to watch their progress on Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr and Instagram.  No matter what social media I’m on there’s fitness at every turn.  I’ve been enjoying some folks who have been taking the time out to send me their photo improvement as well.  They don’t know that underneath it all they’re feeding me constant energy and therefore are inspiring me.

The other truth is:  I’m determined, passionate, have good work ethics, have a thirst for more so I’ll never be able to truly let go. I’ve never been a weak person.  I’ve always had and continue to have a fire in me that won’t quit.  So in the end I’ll get through this as everything else I’ve gotten through in my life.  However this time around and to take a quote from Country Strong I want to, “Fall in love with as many things as you can (or possible).”  I want to give that a go too and maybe we all should?

And as far as tonight goes I’m flirting much with the idea of Yoga.  How much strain could it possibly put my body through right?  I will do something therapeutic this late evening like cook dinner and make tacos. 😉


If you manage to read this all on your first time:  Thank you!  And even if you didn’t, thank you anyway!  And if you come here to check my page out regularly enough to read it thank you!  And if this is your first time on my page:  Thanks for coming aboard at this moment! 😀



I’ve been feeling removed, sour and aloof.

I’m going through a different phase than what I’m used to.  I’m digesting life as it comes like some 12-Step Program (without the alcohol or drug abuse).  The only thing I’m certain of at this point in time is my over-analyzing of identity and every aspect of existence.  Or even my lack of interest in absolutely everything.  (Not to be confused with naturally acquiring wonderment or curiosity.  These will remain apparent.)

There’s something separated within my being these days and on the opposite end there’s this stretching and growing of my skin.  Probably out?  Then there’s this third degree of:  Where would human beings lie without ever second-guessing?  There’s forever the searching and examining of things.  Questioning.  Evaluating.  Re-evaluating.  It’s a perpetual cycle classified as the norm.  Probably geared to the people who own the most perseverance?  Or bordering on the serious melancholy of being a narcissist, never truly being satisfied?

The only time things become an issue to me is when certain circumstances seeps into my Training.  A strong part of me now feels slightly comfortable to take time off.  It’s something I haven’t done in years.  I become itchy just when I take 7 days off.  So do I have it in me?  The real question is:  In what way do I want to take time away from Training?  Do I continue training certain body parts?  Do I train lagging areas?  Do I decide to take off completely from Training?  And if so, not only how much time?  But,  how do I go about (anxiety-free) wanting to take time off?

Aside from the Training aspect, there’s something much deeper than what’s on the surface when it comes to my eating habits.  I swore two years ago I was verging on a type of eating disorder.  Thanks to perfectionism and calorie-counting.  I made it a point to do my best to regain control last year and made way for something new to experiment:  Fasting.  Of course I loved it because it was doing exactly what I’ve been in denial of not doing:  Not Eating.  I just further not eating, knowing how vital eating is for energy, fuel, metabolism, training, etc.

Yet with the knowledge of nutrition, one may think I’d be smart about things.  But I’m not.  I have issues.  Some of them are as follows:  How am I to fully recover from my training without eating (or eating enough)?  How am I to sustain hard workouts before and during without eating (or eating enough)?  Fuck!  Why am I training SO hard for hours and/or performing multiple workouts a day for if I’m not eating to support it?  Why be overzealous in the meantime?

There’s this (imaginary :D) or very real need to be perfect and anything less is basically refusal on my part.  I like to consider this a flaw in itself, probably stemming from neurosis and other forms of pathology.  So yes, being imperfect or desiring to be perfect are somewhat one in the same, no?  With this vision of perfection comes the many negative voices, quotes, other people’s words that glide like skateboarders in my head:  You’re not working hard enough.  There’s always someone out there who’s training/dieting better, knows more, more talented, better genetics than you.  What about your thyroid?  You’re fooling yourself if you think you’ll get anywhere.

I know I’m not alone in this.  But along the way I trace the steps backwards from every part of my life from then til now.  Of course this leads into my Training and sometimes I want to go back to the beginning, where my road began from losing 50lbs, making sure I’m no longer pre-diabetic, to finding joy/passion in lifting heavy and erase what I thought I knew or even what I knew was the wholehearted truth.  I would like to go back and erase what I thought I could and could not eat.  Live by simpler words:  “Eat Whole Foods” while never having to complicate things ever again.

I would like to go back and erase all the bad habits I picked up on and redo all my habits in a wide range of exercises, building foundation, body language cues, muscle imbalances and posture just to name a few.  I would go back and be gentle, talk with myself and not put my Ego first on the priority list.  I would have listened more to sound people/advice, kicked off my immature/highly cynical attitude and not injure my joints along the adventure.  Now I’m always hurting somewhere.  I have injuries now that seem to have traded with the injuries of the past and vice versa.  I blame it on introducing new and tougher exercises while leaving out the basic, yet most important ones.  So I push through every pain everywhere and well I believe maybe.  Just maaaaaybe I’m deserving of a break?

Still, somewhere within, a hand trembles
slightly confident, opposing and even a bit brittle
says:  But you aren’t in a position to take rest.
You’re on a quest to perform at your best.
There aren’t off days to whittle your middle.
You are not where you’re supposed to be.
With anything less:  What is there to attest?