thinking out loud

All posts in the thinking out loud category

Mi Pequena Lily (A Mother’s Envision)

Published August 1, 2014 by moradalila2010

As you dream;

I watch you drift into the skies.

Gliding in the clouds I see your wings.

You are flying away into El Paraiso.

I watch your adult self evolving in my dreams…

Beauty so deep. Driven inspiration afloat.

In your eyes, glittering success and down by the lake I see your reflection so clear and pure…

Youth so well preserved;

skin so soft, hazel crystal eyes of jewels that reproduces your beauty across the land…

It’s not enough, the refection of your grown self.

Would this be you some day…?

Your paradise intertwined with my Garden of Metamorphosis.

Our hands touch;

you held me tightly, never let me go.

Protect me just like your abuelito Tico and your father has.

Never silences the beauty of Las Mariposas…

I awoke and I hear your cries.

Your baby smile;

enlightenment, curiosity, observant.

You my child may not have seen yourself in my dreams.

I know you’ll be alright…

Lost Sheep (Inner Thoughts)

Published July 26, 2014 by moradalila2010

A mind filled with nonsenses. The explosion has begun. A sheep in the meadow, out in the open. Howling wolves expecting their prey to collapse in fear; waiting for me to surrender. The howls get stronger every night. The approach is near. I am allowing myself to become their prey. Surrounding myself with the enemy, making a pack; exchanging my dignity and spirit for peace and quiet. The smell of fear, worries and disappointments trace my exact location; my every move. My Shepard is no where near. I’m on my own. I led myself to the wolves. All I can do is either run or hide …

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Laid my head against the pillow, seeing your smile and pondering what to do. Your innocence is what I kill for. I’ll sacrifice anything to keep you enclosed, not to be exposed to any harm. But we are destined from birth with a purpose. Why God? Why did I become a mother? Was it by choose or was it destined? While she cries, it makes me wonder if I can do this. I feel shame. I feel anxiety. I feel hopeless. I feel scared … Trying to chase away an angry mob of suggestions, parenting advice and past remorse creeps into my head … Am I doing the right thing? I’m doing exactly what my puppeteer, The Dark Shadow, expects me to do: to follow and mimic others’ lives and advice. All I hear are voices that suggests too much and cast out my inner angelic voice and graceful values. Starting on a sour note.

Trust in Him: Lord, surround my sanctuary with positive and reliable sources. Allow me to trust in you and neither lean upon nor rely on my own thoughts and fears.

The Way I Think (Proverbs 23:7)

Published July 26, 2014 by moradalila2010

Now I’m a Writer. A Creative Writer. A type of Writer that displays her emotions on paper and tears down unbreakable boundaries. Anyone can be a Writer. Writing isn’t only for the Scholars. It’s also for regular folks like you and me.

I’m a Writer that expresses what’s tormenting; cultural boundaries that were shown to me while growing up. I write for a future that is unscripted, that only God would know and for my children to read. Writing is my therapy. Being a stay home mom doesn’t post pone my thoughts because I shouldn’t be afraid to share my challenges as a new mother in this generation. I’ve cried so much to the point that dams exploded!

The thought of running away; the thought of not being fit for motherhood … Yes, indeed! I under-estimated myself. In case you’re wondering I’m in one piece (Thanks to God). I’m not broken (Thanks to God). Seeing my daughter smile as she awakes up or when she tries to fall asleep is priceless. I wouldn’t want her potential, purpose to wither neither want her to be in discomfort because of cultural boundaries.

Why hold back my thoughts? This is a calling (I said it before). My Holy Spirit, the angelic voice who’s responsible for my writing, builds the story; explains to me THE TRUTH. I’ve learned that one’s enemy is oneself. Our thoughts mold us and structures our physical appearance to the world. I have multiple titles for my enemy: Inner Demon, Dark Shadow, The Beast, The Monster, Social Anarchist, etc. This enemy of mine portrays fear, silence, and all the deadly sins. The Evil that feeds off arrogance whenever I’m competing with others just to “prove a point” or my existence within its’ hierarchy.

Maldita sea este ser que vive dentro de mi. The only way out from it or the only way to stop it is by doing what I do, writing. Vomiting the venom of despicable feelings and discomforts as well as good ones (oh may I remind you it hates that). So as I write I’m going to tell you my stories; if I don’t, then I’m feeding into my Inner Demon which becomes more stronger, which means, extreme tortures. I shouldn’t be frighten by the figure of expressionism. I want to break the Chain of Silence and Fear that has been encoded by most of my ancestors due to cultural oppression, pride and lack of education.

Tell God Everything (Psalms 13:1)

Published July 26, 2014 by moradalila2010

I just yell at her. I scream and complain to her. I look at her and just leave her there; as if I am not ready for this. How can I trust You! I am not …

I’m afraid of the inner Demons. They’re trying to poses my Holy Spirit into going away. All I want to do is cry. I feel exhausted, I feel lazy and I feel untrustworthy. Why am I allowing myself the doubts, the disappointments?

This isn’t me God! This isn’t me! Am I not suppose to feel overprotective? Am I not suppose to cast away all the doubts and allow the good-will come to me? Right now, I want to leave …

I’m losing my spirit. I am losing my religion. I don’t know … What’s wrong with me? Everyone around me says “You’re doing great,” I disapprove …

I’m weak, vulnerable and confused. I allow my guards to be down. Causing crazy, weird spirits (ghosts) to come into my home and touch my things! Touch my most precious things that mean so much to me …!

Why do I become attach to others’ strengths; depending upon them to reboot? I am just a weak …

Lord, this is me crying out to you for HELP!

S.O.S Life Savior in need …