The saga continues...I AM LUST

I have embarked on making a point about these deadly sins so I have no other choice but to stick to my mission and finish...I hope I am not boring anyone, but it must be completed.

Today....Today I am LUST.

It is quite an amazing thing when you have been murdered and then suddenly after being so dead inside for so long you finally come back to life. I thought that after him, there would be no other. Such lost has killed off my libido and I have been suffering from "erectile dysfunction!" The thought of another touching me, pleasing me, and I to him, seemed a distant pleasure that I would never be able to enjoy. In my dreams I still found myself calling out to him...but last night was very different. I looked in the mirror and I saw Evy again...the one before he took my heart. I missed her so much. I am lustful and sexy and fierce by nature. I am provocative, voluptuous and promiscuous by nature. And I was not being true to myself for some time. I hated that stranger and I needed to get rid of her before she killed me off for good. For reasons known but I do not feel readily comfortable to reveal to the masses, the inner diva in me was awakened and this bitch is a lustful one! I am so happy she is back and as soon as I get to NY, back to my hometown where it all began, where I began, things will be better than ever! I am ready to take life by the horns and rough it up, because if it's not rough, it's no fun ;-)

IT'S ALIVE! IT'S ALIVE!

WELCOME BACK...

I THINK I'VE CREATED A MONSTER!

Break from sins, for the virtue of love...

Today I have decided to take a break from sins to reflect on the virtue of love. The reason for this is because one of my very good friends is getting married tomorrow and because I am unable to attend the wedding, I would like to take the moment to extend a cyber toast to her day. All are welcome to read, but I am going to write it directly to her in form of a letter.

Sarah, My Sarita...

The balance has been restored to the universe...You and Kevin are finally tying the knot and I am so selfishly saying...THANK GOD!

I have always said that you and kevin make me believe in love again...and as long as you two are together I believe that a true selfless undying love must exist, for the two of you are love personified.

I have faith that your love will forever blaze with passion and that time will exhibit a fulfilling journey that the two of you will share by one anothers side. Just know that your love is a love so unique, so durable, so beautiful, so sincere that it inspires people. I am grateful that I was able to witness this relationship flourish and continue to reach boundless heights with a love that is tangibly divine. We can only pray that it continues on this path, but I am sure that others will agree that this is a fairytale. Congratulations, for prince charming has swept you off your feet and on your day you are the princess, the queen, the goddess Aphrodite. You deserve this and more and I hope that it is everything that you have ever dreamt of. It is true my friend, dreams do come true and because of your love, because of your relationship I too will continue to dream.

I love you Sarah.

Love always,
Your friend forever....
Hammy
Simba
Evy

I AM SLOTH

The 7 deadly sins saga continues...today I AM SLOTH.

It seems that in the past several days as my trip back to New York nears, everyone has been asking me about this new phenomena called work...what is this so called work and how does one aquire it? Upon recently graduating from college I find myself contemplating an adulthood that nears by the day and yet seems so far away. It's got a tight grasp on me and its crippling me. I don't want to grow up! They say that you can't stop time and that the inevitable journey of life is age. Age is a jarring thing. I just remember being 12 and 16 and 19 and now 21 and soon to be 22 and oh so soon to be 30...hmmmm....what happens when you decide you ain't with it, ain't with this age stuff...can you just lose faith in age?

So I keep answering the same thing, I DON'T KNOW!

The truth is I don't have a clue what I want to do and I am not even sure if I'm good enough at anything really. I write because it is my passion, because I live for it, but can I get paid for it?

My best friend is working like a mad woman, she says make money and pop bottles because we old enough to do it now (she just told me this this morning) but I don't feel old enough. I still want to take a few more months off and find myself, discover things I have yet to uncover about myself. Is that so wrong? Does my lack of motivation to work, to age, make me a sloth?

and if so...I think i'll continue to be a sloth for the time being anyway...a lot of good may come from it. Everyone lives their life differently, and this is my life. Welcome to growing pains.

Note: It seems that these 7 deadly sins are being disproven as deadly. 3 down and they are more like virtues in my life...things that remind me that I are still human, that I am still alive, that I am normal.

I AM WRATH

Everyone knows there ain't nothin worse than a woman scourned!

Today I am wrath.
Today I am woman, hear me roar!

I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself. I decided that today the pitty party would finally come to an end. I decided that I wouldnt no longer let heartbreak, memories of what never was, and my binge eating in search for solace, to continue to cripple me.

Today I got on the tredmill and ran. Ran away from the pain. Ran away from the dissapointments. Ran away from the fear. And ran towards a new brighter future.

They say that wrath is a deadly sin...but my wrath has been my savior! If it weren't for this bitter woman saying "Damnit I'm fed up!" I may have never came back to life.

This is the diary of a mad Latina woman!

7 DEADLY SINS

I AM LUST.
I AM ENVY.
I AM GREED.
I AM WRATH.
I AM SLOTH.
I AM PRIDE.
I AM GLUTTONY.

I AM GUILTY OF ALL 7 DEADLY SINS...

And they are perhaps all killing me slowly.

I have decided to blog for a week consecutively, each day a new sin.

Today's sin was inspired by a recent event that occurred today...I AM ENVY.

The question i propose to you is...can you be envious and still be a true friend?

For the majority of my life's friendships I have prided myself on my merits as a true friend. I like to consider myself like a dog, a loyal best friend. I love my friends like my family and I invest myself whole heartily. In my former years, I had sacrificed anything and everything for my best friend, but in the more recent years I have found it increasingly difficult to be the true friend i once was. But aside from my best friend, with all my friends there seems to be a thick choking fog of envy lingering in the air. Perhaps it is my own insecurities that make me wish I could be them in different forms. Perhaps it is the way some can eat anything they want and still maintain their girlish figures. Perhaps it is the way some are so intelligent, so secure in their futures and ambitious personalities that allow them to fight for the success that I have not yet found the strength to conquer. Perhaps it is the way some are emotionally stoic and resilient, whose hearts are broken but can easily mend on their own, while I have cried endless tears for months on end. Perhaps it is the way some are able independent women, while I am still confined to the dependency of familiar comfort zones. Perhaps it is the way some can budget themselves and save for that rainy day that will soon come flooding into my life and drown me in my debts, conspicuous consumption and shopaholicism. Perhaps it is the way some are so cheerful and content, while I can only see my glass half empty, a depression never allowing to quench my thirst. Perhaps it is the way some have found true love of another or of themselves, and I have yet to find love of that man nor of myself. Perhaps it is the way some are driven to prove and accomplish for themselves, that their only motivation is their happiness, while I still live for people--constantly mindful and aware of my self-image to those around me.

Perhaps it is that as humans we always want to keep up with the Joneses. Perhaps it is that humans are constantly dissatisfied with themselves, always comparing themselves to the other who they may not be able to compare to. We define ourselves by the looking glass self (Cooley) and by shaping our identities through others, we inevitable fail to be content with ourselves.

What is the difference between admiration and Envy? Do we envy what we admire? and admire what we envy?

So am I not a truer friend in my admiration of my friends and the envy then just becomes a byproduct of my admiration?

Please Post comments, I'd like to hear your opinions.

DOES SHE DRESS BETTER THAN ME?

"When I die, hopefully not too old," I tell my little brother of 12 years old, "and they ask at my eulogy (or for that matter any time he's asked after my untimely death) what is the one thing you'll always remember about your sister (or a similar question) your answer must be 'She was the best dresser I have ever seen.'"

Hopefully I die when he's old enough when this question will have some validity, because if he hasn't seen much than my credentials are discredited!

We often practice and he's got it down. Just yesterday we went shopping and upon reaching the mall I assumed creative director and embarked on getting him the ultimate trendy outfit. Ummmm...let's just say i disowned him as my brother...he obviously has no fashion sense! 

So now I'm wondering who will take his place? If anyone is willing to rehearse "She was the best dresser I have ever seen" in preparation for my death please let me know.

Now the real reason I am writing is because it tickled me immensely when I realized the only thing I'd like to know about anyone really, but at the moment about the girl who took my place in his life is...

DOES SHE DRESS BETTER THAN ME?

While some women measure their worth by their abilities in the bed room, by the level of their intelligence, by the capacity of their cooking, by the good deeds of their hearts....

I measure myself through the potency of my wardrobe....the size of my heel....the versatility, the dynamics of my role-play, of my fashion.

Maybe I'm materialistic...
Maybe I'm vain...
Maybe I'm going to be selfish and full of botox for the rest of my life...

either way this evy and all i want to know is...

DOES SHE DRESS BETTER THAN ME?

and trust me...if she can't measure up heel to heel, there is no way she can fill my shoes...literally.

So I'll keep it moving love, in these fabulous shoes...

HeartBreak---What's Love got to do with it?

Tina Turner got it right when she asked herself and then the rest of the world, "What`s love got to do, got to do with it, who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?"

Tina, I'm asking myself the same thing. I'm wondering what is all this love nonsense and how can we make sense of it? Especially when we so often mistake the physicality of our relationships for intimacy. Maybe this is just bodily chemistry, lips smacking together, bodies beating against each other...maybe this isn't love at all.

As I have mentioned previously, I am going through a really bad break up and I find myself very much over him, and yet not so much over him or the situation. After betrayal and the merciless massacre of my dignity and pride, I could never love him again. When I look at pictures of him, he seems like a stranger, as if heartbreak has distorted my image of him. And yet, as I chilled out in bed watching America's Next Top Model reruns my phone rings, an unknown number. And right before picking up the call the first thought that flashes through my mind is, what if it's him? What if he felt bad, wanted to apologize, what if he realized the grand mistake he has done by leaving me, and what if, what if it was all a dream and I dreamt such heartbreak. This can't be real can it? What's the difference between dream and reality? I don't think I'm ever really awake...I don't ever want to wake up.

I picked up the phone call and there was silence and static, and the unevitable pain that stems from your mind creating fantasies. He told me that once, that I lived in a fantasy world and that my fantasy relationships would never come true. Am i just a dreamer?

So in the spirit of heartbreak...
in the spirit of dreaming...
of fantasies...
This is a snipet of that fantasy relationship, of that dream, oh god, of that nightmare....

He Tastes like Ambivalence

We lay in bed exhausted from a series of “I missed you” love-making. It had been about a month since I had last seen him, and the distance was unbearable. I curl up beside him finding a comfortable spot under his arm, laying my head against his chest, it rising and falling with each breath. I listen to his heart beat, the percussion making my ears thump like drums. I wonder for a moment if this is the way it would always be?

There are no definites, no always, and no nevers. My life is a sometime, it’s a maybe, it’s a sort of—if I’m lucky. But lying there, with him, was the kind of sometimes, I ALWAYS look forward to.

He reaches under me and pulls me closer, his breath caressing my neck like fingertips, warm seduction like his kisses. My body rises with goose-bumps; he rubs them away and smiles. He loves knowing he can get me like that.

My hands gently trace the hair on his chest that run down to his navel, circling around it and then moving towards his sweet allure, wanting him so badly inside of me. I climb on top of him feeling the bareness rub against my inner thighs, pulsating and suddenly he is thrusting inside of me, organic pleasure.

Moaning. Grunting. Pure ecstasy. Background noise of Nick-at-Nite TV shows— Family Matters reruns, the clank of the radiator and the hissing of water boiling and steam—heat—sweat dripping from his body to mine, bathing in intimate secretions and natural lubricants that wash away the longing, the yearning, the constant disappointments. The phone rings, and rings and rings—the permanent soundtrack to our relationship—the phone rings and rings and rings. He reaches over to the night table beside his bed, scrambling through the darkness in TV glow, grazing his hands over ash-tray full of buds and clips, knocking over empty cups and a bottle of Corona—finding his phone amongst the clutter.

“Yo. What’s good?” He answers.
“What you need?”
“Nah I only got dimes”
“Say no more. I got you, say no more. Meet me at the school yard.”
“Right there in front of my building on 183rd”
“Ima go down now”

I sit up in the bed pretending to bask in the aftermath of satisfaction, seemingly entertained by Steve Urkle, “Did I do that” giggling to front. I watch him from the side of my eyes, as he looks for his underwear and sweats. He zips up his hoodie and props his favorite red Yankees fitted onto his head, cocked slightly to match the gangsta swagga I fell in love with far too soon. In silence he kisses me on the lips and walks out the door. I feel exposed, staring at the TV glow. He used to say something, anything. “I’ll be right back baby girl. Get comfortable” he’d often say and in a matter of seconds he was back.

Minutes will go by, maybe even hours, today he may not come back home.

Welcome to Diary cyberspace...

Welcome to the Garden of Eve, this is my paradise. In the Garden of Eve, we are able to enter into the world and the mind of woman, for she is often shadowed my man. But in my paradise she is the maker, the creator of all that is good, and all that is bad, for what is bad without the good? My life is the taste of ambivalence, my forbidden fruit is like a fabulous oxymoron and all the apples are readily accessible for your tasting. So, to all who follow Eve, take a taste test, for isn't life just a series of taste tests, trial and errors? Life is a cliche, bitter-sweet, but it is our duty to individualize and personalize every experience, to make that cliche into our own struggles, our own happiness, our lives. I hope that this introduction gives you some insight into who i am and the type of person I am. Truth is that I am melodramatic, and my life is at best played out life a tragic telenovela, because I live my life in grandeur, like a series of theatrical gestures. My life is dynamic. So I'm pressing PLAY, just sit back and watch and if you feel inclined to comment then please feel free to participate in the show. ready. set. ACTION!

I figured that this was the perfect time to enter the world of blogging. I always wanted to blog, but found myself escaping and releasing on the traditional pages of my diaries. Unfortunately my last diary reached its end and when searching for its replacement, I failed. Everything happens for a reason, so I decided why not create a cyberspace diary. Welcome to my cyberspace. I'd like to introduce this blogging episode(yes they will play out like episodes in the series of my life) with a short fiction piece I wrote(I am a fiction writer). It is still under construction but I think it really serves as a great introduction:

Walking On Air:

I’m so tired of dying. In my dreams I’m dying all the time. And when I awake I go through life with a kaleidoscopic mind. I never stop dreaming. I never stop dying. I am always walking on air, mindlessly and effortlessly drifting through a pastiche of episodic realities.

Stepping foot outside, the air is electric. The wind like waves of current running up and down my body, recharging me. It’s not like this everyday, but today the voltage has so much energy it leaves me restless, numbing the tips of my fingers. When it’s this bad I try to shake the feeling, but I can’t find my way through the swirling space. I can only see the electricity dancing in the wind like the inside of wires, like cyberspace. I close my eyes and the light attacks me like meteors, catastrophic ink blots that stain the inside of my eyelids. I envision them like crystallized eye shadow; I want to paint my eyelids like a peacock. In my dreams, sometimes I am a peacock, beautiful and exotic and terrifying. Sometimes I’m a flamingo. I’m not always an animal. Sometimes I’m a character from fairy tales; I was the mad hatter once. I reincarnate. Only when I am myself do I die. Sometimes I die more than once. Each night I look forward to dying, hoping to come back as someone different.

When I look around I think there are trees lining the sides of the streets, and parallel-parked cars and tall buildings that are tired of being so tall all the time. These buildings fell once; they couldn’t stand it anymore and just gave out. I stood underneath while the grey weeping buildings dismantled, blocks of cement crashing to pavement, harsh blows knocking me unconscious and into consciousness. I think I died that night, but I woke up too soon to tell.
The world around me is an unfamiliar familiarity. I know I’ve been here many times before. It feels like home after watching a horror film, making your way through the darkness victimized by the imagination. I can see millions of Nanoparticles and megapixels. I look down at my numb fingers; this is what I look like in a photograph. I think I’m inside of a digital camera. I want to be in high definition but I haven’t evolved that far. I feel fragmented and abstract like the distorted street that breaks apart into perfect asymmetrical shapes, like Tetris pieces, like Pez candies, like fantasies.


***

I hope you enjoyed it.

This story is a good foundation for today's episode because last night I really did have a dream that I was dying. It made me contemplate death, but even more so, life. How many times do we complain about the many struggles we face and underestimate all the great things we should be grateful for? But isn't that what makes us human? I like to complain. I think it's engraved in my DNA or something, maybe because of my drama queen nature. I just make everything a lot more complicated that it needs to be, but that's what's most fun about being Evy anyway. What do you guys think about the nature of life and death?

Anyway, I have been really interested in heart break. After recently being emotionally destroyed I've been dreaming a lot. Mostly about him...and HER...but that is just a preview for the next episode. Please come back soon to read on my next topic: HEARTBREAK!