Erin’s Cielo

It’s as if time was my enemy. I was never one to go against the grain or to battle anything that looked remotely as a struggle would. I guess that’s why you can see me in the position I am in. Others might name it strange or be afraid of the term which coined awkwardness and loneliness as their mortal enemy, but the indifference of it all is in the simple fact that this is the way I was made. Logistically, one could say I am none the brighter than one who could be the sharpest crayon in the box, but while all these observations and declarations are made, there is a subtle truth relinquishing the obscurity that perceives this reality as to be my own. I have never had anything more but one purpose and that my dear, was to serve. If there were ever a time to recall when my servitude started, I would have eluded the very fact that anything I say at all can be portrayed as deluded or very one-sided. But still, I would like to give this a go. Even from as young as I can remember the aim to please forbade any rationale that may have been construed as an individual thought. I was created for the better good and yet as a hope abandoned, delivered more pain and seething hatred in my very existence. I am without cause. At anytime I thought I was to assuredly touch the sky, I would find myself crying on empty staircases and soon found my only revelry in the spines of books. Comprehension alluded me. If I were asked to reciprocate the meanings, I would panic at a loss for words so work never got completed and being commanded at all times was the nature of the game which I bore. I painstakingly await the moments when a simple welcome home would be a worthy theme. I fear that moment may never come. You see, as a person belonging to servitude, there is but one purpose and that is to please others. I am not a person and if not neither whole nor missing to have an emotional or intellectual conversation with anyone other than myself. I am also a mother. The striking fear of being alone in a world without anyone to care for and no sight to see how to care for myself, I became prey. I recall days on my knees praying with tears rolling from my eyes to God that he would hear me and he would understand… I would never know that life you take for granted. Was it a mistake to have taken matters in my own hands? possibly. Breaking the mold was a module albeit very new to me and exciting, but at the same time, moving me to places I had never thought I could go. I was doing things my way for once. From the time I realized at an early age, the bruises covering my body were not a normal feature of my creation, I came to the realization that the end is never what we may anticipate. My only hope now is for the present, I think we all get too obsessed over the future that we often times miss the road we are on. In every waking moment, I must strive to learn and become better so that my children will one day see that the situation we are driven from is always an opportunity. There is always an opportunity even if unseen. Even now, as I am separated from my children and heartbroken, I know now a love that can never be replaced. I hope one day that I can be someone they look up to not only because of my tall stature, but because I will have accomplished something that would benefit many. So maybe being in a place of servitude isn’t so bad if it got me to this place and will get me to where I am eventually going. Making good choices and steady observations of practices that have worked for others, being grateful for everything, the good and the bad and also being thankful for the experiences will take me far. I am sure. No more bickering about not having the ability to start fresh as a person who has never made a mistake before. I have made them all and now I seek to build. Life has happened to me enough already and now, even if the servitude is never ending… I will make a way. I guess you could say I could be quite the inspiration, but that is not the purpose. Motivation is futile without adequate means and action. So I continue servitude, but at a pace that will not hinder this newly profound mindset. I seek not to run a race without first enjoying the view. I am without a home. I am without the loving support of family… I have a few mentors and a pressing desire and will to create something from nothing. At times, I feel a plateau in my efforts, but the breakthrough always happens. There was once a time I lived my dream, you know. Not many people can say they have ever seized the opportunity and there isn’t a day that goes by I don’t think about that time. Maybe I am stuck in a bit of regret for not being as bold and as eager as I once was. Truth be told, I felt a laughingstock, but I was happy. Attach a label that precedes this dreamer to be felonious and I give you the perfect recipe to kill dreams. Luckily, I have this ambitious notion that there is always an opportunity for action. Be it singing in the streets and pretending I’m a headlining Coloratura Soprano at the Met or reaching out to the local downtrodden and reassuring them one of their own will make it, so can they. I wish to evoke inspiration as I have so blatantly before with no reservations towards their mockery. My artistry was never for the sole satisfaction of making a living. I did it for what I believe in. If I were to die, I would have accomplished already part of a bucket list some people have even dare to outline. I could not wait for a more perfect time to exploit my efforts as I am sure there are many others who seek to destroy me all in the same… Why wait? I am already in as lowly of a place as I have existed an entire lifetime… What’s one more ping to my already deficit and defect of character that alleviates me from conformation to this systematical reverie and asylum of unhappiness? Who says it is impossible to live more than one dream for a lifetime? Who lied to us and gave us the illusion that only one dream would be fit for the duration of a human life’s expectancy? Every single night we project visions and dreams that our subconscious verily leaves photo cognizance of places we’ve yet to visit or people we’ve yet to meet once in a lifetime or once again? Those subtle trails of the unknown seeming familiar and those lovely traces that drive us day in and day out. When will it be time to give up? I say to give up is to let down the best part of who we are. Each day I learn something new and the day I waste is a day I have rushed through stuck on autopilot, and at times forgetting those times when the happiest was allowed to leave my eyes. If only for a moment, I lived that dream, I am grateful. Not everyone has the capability or means to see that moment. My children by my side and not a person to hit, betray, or tell me I would never be anything… and my children seeing that I was doing all I could with everything that I had. I now have this new fear of hurting others. The realization that my actions can make someone hurt as I have feels like a curse. Being overly cautious so that no one would ever hurt as I have. Sometimes too afraid to move… Sometimes too quiet to say anything when I am being hurt because they realize the weakness I have and sometimes I know I am being taken advantage of trusting in a faith that has time and time again delivered me from some of the most terrifying situations. Like that one time… When I left everything I knew… and that other time… When I left everything I knew… and that time when… I left everything I knew… It seems to be repeating itself and it could be my cowardice knows no limits or I am simply still trying to this day to fit into puzzles where I am that odd out of place figure with more rounded edges and grooves that could never be fit into a sharp edge or corner… My box must have been discontinued a long time ago. Is there a place besides a landfill where these pieces can still have some use? being useful… being useless… Just being. Me. šŸ˜› -Erin was here

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