Life, hope, lifestyle and everything beautiful
Since I didn’t celebrate my fiftieth with a bang, I will celebrate starting the new year, setting goals to keep me focussed on what is important to me. This will be my 5oth celebration. Another year of change, hopes and good tidings.
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This is what happens to all of us if we allow ourselves to leave behind the “lessons” and begin to rise after we’ve fallen.
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Now, when I’m faced with some sort of hardship since my friend passed, I always go back to that time when he slipped away in my hands. Nothing, after that, can be as bad. I use this “loss” to gauge many of my feelings now, whether it be anger, sadness or loneliness. “It could be worse, I […]
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As I indulged in my self-destructive habit out on the porch last night, I thought to myself if this was to be my last. We really never know. So, I enjoyed my cigarette thinking; Shouldn’t we live with this frame of mind? Life can take a turn at any moment.
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In the depth of my soul I fear I’m not yet cured of the malady of “life.” We all have to battle some malady, mine is my own, tailored to fit. Just when I think the dust has settled, here comes another wind of change, unsettling the comfort of normalcy.
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Some people may grow old and never learn any useful lessons or mature, remaining forever kids. Which is not a bad thing as long as that’s what makes them happy and it doesn’t have any negative repercussions to those around them.
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When I was little I agonized about growing up because unlike other kids who could imagine a future, I couldn’t because I didn’t have a clue of what I hoped or wanted. Growing up didn’t look good. It looked gloomy and dark. I felt helpless and lost in what I thought was a terrifying jungle […]
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I’ve been in search for the meaning of life, like many, for a very long time, too long. To be exact for 5 decades, and now, finally, I can rest in peace; the search of that universal meaning is over. I got it! At long last I can sit, relax and stop fretting about finding […]
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Every Sunday, I try to call my grandmother who raised me in Spain since I was 3. If I don’t, it’s because I don’t have the heart to call her when I’m sad. Yet, when I call her she cheers me up and makes me laugh.
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My father, years ago gave me a book entitled “Solas.” Maybe he knew all along that I don’t belong to the married, to the couple, but to the bunch of people who live happily ever after in the company of friends and family. I agree.
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