politicized

Everything is so political nowadays, down to the music festivals you go to and the brands you wear. Things that are known to otherwise be apolitical since existence, have now been politicized.

The popular festival called “Coachella” held in Coachella Valley (well-known artists like Beyonce, and Eminem have performed at in the past) has now become politicized. People only go to the festival if they want to support people that give places money that endorse guns, are anti-LGBTQ, and are pro-life. “Think about this before you buy tickets to Coachella,”  a popular post circulating social media during this time of year, when tickets go on sale for Coachella, said. Last year, on April 15th, actress and model Cara Delevingne declared to her 41 million followers on Instagram, “I still refuse to go to a festival that is owned by someone who is anti-LGBT and pro-gun.”

Beloved designer brands flexed by many famous celebrities have become politicized. Italian designer brand Prada is known for handbags, travel accessories, perfumes, and other fashion accessories. In 2018, Prada was accused of racism and general insensitivity when they released there “Pradamalia” collection, the two characters, Otto and Toto (featured on keychains priced at around $550 and in store windows) were shockingly similar to a former racist movement. The dark monkeys with oversized red lips had too many similarities to blackface. Many celebrities and people on the media started to boycott Prada, such as director Spike Lee and rapper T.I.

(Gucci turtleneck) Photo Credit: CNN.com

In the winter of 2018, Gucci released a turtleneck that resembled many characteristics similar to blackface, like oversized red lips accompanied by a black outline. Celebrities and the media were enraged. People began to boycott Gucci. Rapper Soulija Boy claimed he is getting his Gucci logo tattoo removed from his forehead. Rapper, 50 Cent, posted a video to his 22 million fans burning a Gucci logo tee and captioning it “I gotta get rid of all the Gucci I have at home. I’m not supporting their brand anymore.” Rapper Lil Pump also made it clear he will not support Gucci anymore.

Fast food restaurant Chick-Fil-A has become politicized. Chik-Fil-A’s CEO Dan Cathay has made many homophobic comments in Pride Month (June) of 2012. Chik-Fil-A has also donated millions of dollars to numerous anti-gay organizations. This led to protests in stores as well as rallies. Chik-Fil-A is now an infamous anti-gay company.

Makeup company “Lime Crime” has become politicized. Founder of the company, Doe Deere, has made numerous racist comments and actions. She dressed up as Adolf Hitler, the leader of the Nazi party, shortly after releasing Lime Crime makeup. Lime Crime is now deemed as the most hated beauty company on the internet.

Political character has been added to these otherwise apolitical things and this is only the beginning of a much longer list.

The politicization of seemingly everything can be overwhelming at times. It can be hard to always know what’s happening and what to stay away from and what not to, especially when you’re a teenager and have not necessarily developed your own stance on these things. And, of course, people have different coping mechanisms to these things, some people choose to ignore the political aspect of their everyday choices, to not give more attention and fame to ordinary places and continue on with their life. Others fight, protest, and resist.

It’s up to you to know where you stand, but to know where you stand you have to know the issues at hand. Hopefully, now you know.

“Darkness can not drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” – Martin Luther King Jr.

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Love

Love always seemed fun to me.

It always enticed me and made me want to fall into it.

I was so excited when I fell in love.

But, I realized pretty early

I never really fell into love, I crashed into it.

I was reckless and lost it.

Then, I felt like I lost myself.

Without love, I was confused and miserable.

Everything seemed hopeless and dumb.

Falling again seemed like something only idiots would do,

I promised I would never fall again.

 

Then, I met you.

Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

 

I don’t even know if I could call this falling.

It feels as if I’m floating up to cloud nine,

All my cares fade away when I’m around you.

It’s as if nothing else matters.

I’m no longer scared to fall, because I know your arms will always be there.

Your hands are soft and sweet and when you wrap me up in them, I feel your strength.

In your arms, I am not scared to fall.

Because I know I’m not falling,

I’m floating.

monday night’s epiphany

hello, currently it’s 10:22 PM on a monday night and, for some reason, a tear drop is running down my left cheek.

it’s so insane to me that once you enter relationship with someone, everything you do, whether they see it or not, belongs to them… and everything the other person does, whether you see it or not, belongs to you.

belongs may be the wrong word and likely is, but, like i said, it’s 10:22 PM. The same single tear is running down my face for no reason and i have a migraine, so, to say the least, i’m feeling frazzled. but, i know if i don’t write this now, i never will.

this isn’t my finest writing, not in the least, but… when you date someone, it seems to me that they could be right in front of your eyes playing soccer while you watch from the sidelines, they could be giving money to a homeless person you only know about because of their friend that told you about it, or they could be doing something small, but wonderful you’ll never know about like maybe just helping their family cook dinner. all of what they do you can say is yours. they belong to you, they belong to you.

photo credit: pinterest

that person is yours in all their beauty. this is what i mean when i say i think every single person is beautiful… because it doesn’t matter the gender, the color of their fucking skin, or how many pimples they have. what matters is how they act, not only when they’re with you, but when they’re by themselves and what they do for others.

i don’t think i’ll ever be worthy of someone fully, because that incapsulates what they do when they’re alone and i think that’s a whole lot of beauty, almost too much. i will never be able to reciprocate, nor will i be ever deserving of such a thing… because to be deserving of all that is a lot of responsibility.

and oh, oh i wish i was. how i wish i could belong to someone else fully and they could belong to me and i could not be so utterly fascinated by the fact that they just merely exist and i wish maybe i didn’t have to self-sabotage myself because i feel so utterly underserving.

this isn’t meant to be self-depreciation, no, not in the least. this is just me expressing how i don’t think i’m worthy for being in being in relation with another living human being, because, even the fact that they’re a living human being is much too incredible.

Driving in the Rain

I went for a drive tonight.

First, I made a left turn onto the highway at 9:17pm.

It wasn’t raining yet, just a slight drizzle. The roads were just starting to get wet. I forgot how much darker it is when there’s a storm coming.

As I got closer to town, I saw some couples wandering up and down main street, bundled up in coats and jackets, strolling under yellow light and holding hands.

I watched a little boy running along the sidewalk past a restaurant, clutching the straps of his backpack tight against his sides, the pom-pom on top of his beanie bouncing up and down as he went. I wonder where he was going.

By 9:25 the rain had started to come down a bit more. I rolled down the window to feel the cold.

I rolled along to a four way stop. There was no one else waiting. So, I looked up towards the street light.

A dull orange beam perfectly showed the rain coming down, lighting up thousands of little droplets falling from the sky.

I stuck my hand out the window, felt the rain hit me for a moment, then signaled right and moved on.

The story of kale, tangerines, and the realizations I made.

I ate a piece of kale the other day.

It was growing in a garden box at school, so I pulled a leaf off of the plant and ate it.

It was a nice, sturdy piece of kale. It tasted pretty good. I continued munching on it as I walked over to the baseball field.

Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

Kale can be a nice snack, if you’re into dark leafy greens. But, as many experienced plant-eaters know, raw kale is quite tough to chew.

My jaws were getting a little bit tired, so I switched over to eating a different leaf that I had also picked from the garden box. I’m not sure what plant this was, but it was softer and sweeter than the kale.

As I was chewing, I twirled the piece between my thumb and my pointer finger.

I started to study the leaves. The kale was dark and rough. It was much more aggressively textured than the other leaf.

It was at that moment when I stopped chewing, for I noticed dozens of very tiny, white bugs all along the sides of the leaves.

I swallowed my bite, then tossed the remnants of my half-eaten leaves aside. I decided not to dwell on it too much, because I didn’t want the thought of the bugs to take away from the otherwise positive experience I had eating them.

(I would like to apologize to the innocent lives I took that day. I didn’t thoroughly inspect the leaves before eating them, and that was selfish of me. To the bugs that once inhabited the kale: I am sorry.)

On a completely unrelated note, this morning my parents and I went out to our tangerine trees. It was time to prune them. After about an hour of picking fruit and chopping branches, my dad said to me: “This is a chore that very few other people your age have to do, but you have to remember that it just makes you more cosmopolitan.”

Though I didn’t really enjoy being outside when it was 40 degrees, I did find comfort in the fact that our work would provide more fruit for us next season.

I never realized it before, but I am so thankful that I know how to take care of citrus trees.

I live in a place where I am fortunate enough to grow my own food. I take that for granted.

I hope that I will always have this luxury, bugs and all.

“sometimes it takes more courage to live than to kill yourself”

i hope you’re okay.

i miss you.

you seem happier now, we both do.

but, we both know deep down that we will most likely never be fully okay.

i ask myself all the time… what could i have done better?

how could i have helped you, made you see what i saw in you?

you sat on the edge for a while, staring over the ledge at the busy freeway. i stood starring at you from below, sobbing.

in your mind, there was nothing to live for, nothing worth living for.

live for me, i thought. live for me. please live for me.

it’s selfish, but i needed you, in all honesty, i still do.

i loved you then, i love you now.

you didn’t jump because you knew that if you did, it wouldn’t kill you. you’d survive the fall and, when you woke up, you’d be sent to a place far worse than the center we were at.

i lived with you for two months in a residential treatment center for eating disorders until we were both discharged.

we suffered together, we cried together, but we laughed together too.

we’d talk in spanish complaining about the staff, we’d talk about boys, we’d talk about all the things we’d do once we got out of center for discovery (the treatment center we were at), and all things we would do together.

at the center, all sharp objects, from knives to pen caps, are locked in a cabinet which only the staff has a key too.

i remember that one night in our room. i heard a noise coming from your side of the room.

the staff who watches us at night had fallen asleep and someone had forgotten to lock away a pen cap.

you lay in bed, a broken pen cap in your hand, and blood on your wrists.

i ran to you and tried to take away the cap. you pushed me away, i lunged at you again and took it.

i grabbed your arms and forced them around me. you sobbed, begging for the cap. i could almost hear you internally begging to me, “end this please, end me please.”

you kept on saying please in between sobs. over and over again: “please.”

“shhh,” i whispered crying. “shhh”.

you were seventeen at the time, i was thirteen.

i was a ninety-pound, anorexic, thirteen-year-old girl living in a metal hospital.

you were a bulimic, suicidal, seventeen-year-old girl living in a mental hospital.

i held you for what felt like hours, i hugged you until you stopped crying.

you’re nineteen.

i don’t see you much anymore, we talk sometimes though.

you were sent back to the center twice because you relapsed.

you seem better now though, you seem happy now, but i worry a lot.

Photo Credit: peakviewbh.com

you’re nineteen. if you go back to your old ways, you’re parents can’t legally force you back to the center, you’re an adult.

if you wanted to, you can find a bigger ledge, one that could end it all.

i can’t protect you anymore, i’m not there to grab the pen cap.

you are happy now, but we both know how fast things can change.

i hope you stay happy forever. please stay happy forever.

if you are ever sad, please tell me.

thirteen years old in a treatment center, fifteen years old in my room writing this, twenty years old wherever i’ll be then, no matter what age or what place, i will always be here to hold you.

two love poems

It’s Inevitable, Isn’t It?

It’s inevitable, isn’t it?

The loneliness we all know

Too well to ignore.

Loneliness is a shadow

That follows the lovely moments,

The beautiful moments, the love.

We know both sides,

We know dark yields light,

But, just like that, we know love might

Be temporary just as all other things.

Temporary in the way it sings;

Temporary with its whizzing wings;

Temporary, because we know what wins.

What wins is not light, or day, or love,

Or night or dark, or loneliness.

What wins is the cycle

Of all we know,

All we love,

All we despise.

__________________________________________

Go. 

It still hurts, believe me.

You left me half a year ago,

You broke me then, you know?

I tried to hold you back,

Have you back, the way we were.

You didn’t.

You didn’t want that, you didn’t want me,

Didn’t want me in your life,

In your heart, in your camera roll, in your mind.

And see what you did?

See what I did?

I lost the mask I had put on your face all this time.

I began hating to hear your name all around,

I forgot how I ever loved you.

That’s the funny thing about love.

You never think it ends

When you’re its guest.

You think it will last forever and go on and go on and

Go.

Go, go and leave me and don’t remind me

Of what you gave me and took away,

What you promised and didn’t keep,

What you told me and meant with all your heart,

But what does that matter, if your heart has changed?

It still hurts, believe me.

Cutting you out of my memories,

Ignoring birthdays and anniversaries,

Seeing her.

But that’s the funny thing about love:

We are so willing to fall in love and fall on our hearts,

And we think it will go on and go on and

Go.