Notice Me.

There's a new constant buzz in my ears due to my broken headphones. I've missed the slight murmur of casual chit-chat that lines Gregory Alan Isakov's lullabies. I forgot how my chai gets cold and my water turns warm. 


I used to stare down the best looking guy until he noticed. Then I would blush. But I've grown out of that. (For the most part.) I'd wonder if I'd ever find my prince. The one with the looks, the intelligence, and the love that i deserve. 

I took a minute to close my eyes and reflect:

Life itself is the most wonderful fairytale. 


Fairytales have always been an option in my mind. I've always looked for the magic in the world. I was the kid making up the adventurous games; creating poems to recite; learning about fairies and how to identify them during recess. I'd get my friends in trouble because I'd venture past the boundaries of the school when we weren't supposed to. 

But time taught me that Santa was nothing more than a far fetched fantasy. 

Adventure didn't exist in the way I needed it to.

I get the attention of my prince with no problem at all. But my immaturity and selfishness always manages to get in the way of my ability to love. I become clouded with angst and frustration.

I've lost the ability to create a new adventure or fantasy.

Despite the unmistakable rejection, the desire to seek out the impossible is constantly tugging at my heart. I feel like the character in the book that sits around waiting for years and years praying that something exciting would happen. 

Because of this, I understand why people decide to make bad company; we want to witness something worthy of controversy. The stink of cigarette smoke that never leaves our curls; the fragrance of booze purging through our pores; the desperate acts we do just to be noticed. 

Although a fantasy for some, it's a nightmare that is far from my happily ever after. 

So I'll open my eyes, count my blessings, and make the best out of the bored life that I've been given. 

Yours until the pigs fly, 

Alessondra Marie

Childish Expectations

When I was younger, I wanted so badly to be an adult. I was a mere thirteen, begging to be recognized. No one validated my fears or desires. Not to say that I was neglected. 
Because I wasn't.
Not by any stretch. 


But anxiety drowned out my voice. I wanted to be older just so I could be heard. 


And here I am. Sixteen. 
Responsibilities are handed to me. Without question, I'm expected to meet nearly unfair expectations. 
And of course I can. I usually just don't want to. 


I am not an adult. 
I'm a child stuck in this body that grows and learns far too fast for my heart to keep up. 


Unfortunately I can't slow it down. Life keeps going...


Yours until the pigs fly,
Alessondra Marie

Your Strengths Are My Weaknesses.

I miss you, you know. Your laugh, your smile. The way that you're always falling apart. but yet you're always keeping it together. 


I often remember that dark rainy night we spent in your abandoned house. 
The way I knew that no matter what happened to you and him, you'd always be my sister. 
I associate you with Baja Fresh. Their salsa reminds me of you.


I am constantly, but silently, wishing that you were here to help me now. 


I knew I missed you. But i didn't realize just how much until I started writing. 


Things have been falling apart. My stability has been taken away. I don't remember how to maintain homeostasis. 


I've been forgotten by many people. Maybe it's intentional. I wouldn't be surprised. I can't tolerate me either. 


Everyone is growing up and moving on. I have the taste of what's to come staining my lips, but that's all that's present. I have no proof, nothing tangible to cling to. Everyone grows up. That includes me. Things change, people move on, move away. 


I should be used to it by now. Seeing that L blocked me from facebook. I'm not even sure why. It's been years since I've talked to her. But I have to admit, it hurts. 


It makes me wonder what's going to happen with V when she goes to college. She promises me the future, but so did so many others. And they haven't stayed constant. 


It often still scares me. To think that A is gone and never truly coming back. Yeah, he visits. But we won't ever live together. 


On top of that, what if A and I actually make it? Can I tolerate being a military wife? Raising our children by myself. I always thought I could, but facing the harsh reality of not having the grace of the computer to help me communicate gave me a taste of what it could be like. 


I know I'm strong. 
But I don't think I'm that strong. 


Actually, I take that back. I'm not strong. I need you to be strong for me. 


Yours until the pigs fly, 
Alessondra Marie

The Hypocrisy of Trying to Help

I feel like my hermit crab trying to climb out of my cage. I climb the walls, bite the fence, sit on my house, do all that I can to try to escape, but I can't get out. I might get to the highest point in my cage, but when it comes down to it I'm still stuck; not able to exercise the ability of adventuring out.  


I obliviously climb higher and higher. I think I'm getting somewhere, but then something happens to shake me off the walls. It makes me realize that I'm caged in. 


I thought I gained the ability to wear my heart on my sleeve. I thought I grew up so I could tell people when I'm hurting. But instead of that, I realize that all I am capable of is the hypocrisy of pointing out your flaws. 


I'm never moving forward. Just trying to push you ahead.
I mean well, honest.


I can not fix you. 
But should i try? 
How do I even try without making you feel judged? 
I don't even want to try.
I have to get my own shit in order. 
That's what you don't get. I'm just as fucked up as you are. 


Lost, insecure, hurt, afraid. 


And yeah, like you, I have absolutely no reason to be that way. 


"Too many guys think I'm a concept, or I complete them, or I'm gonna make them alive. But I'm just a fucked-up girl who's lookin' for my own peace of mind; don't assign me yours." Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind


Yours until the pigs fly,
Alessondra Marie

3 Rounds and a Sound

I'm currently making a pumpkin pie. I'm waiting for my pumpkin to get steamed. 


I named my pumpkin Jimi. I'm not sure why. It just seemed appropriate. 


Unfortunately, Jimi's slaughter (I had to cut him into 5ths) may be in vain. I have no clue what I'm doing. 


Aside from being lost in my pumpkin pie making, I'm lost in nearly everything I do.


Writing doesn't even make sense to me anymore. Which is why I haven't posted anything lately. Don't get me wrong, I have been writing. I just haven't written anything worth posting lately.


Even though I lack inspiration, I try to write because thats what a writer does. We write even when we can't think of anything to write about. How could I expect to be a better writer if I don't push through the times that'll teach me the most? That'd be like giving up on God as soon as the emotional high of the Holy Spirit wears off.  But let me tell you, writing is usually the only thing that makes sense to me all of the time. So when I get writers block, it's like my whole life spirals into chaos. 


Although not always enjoyable, I do have a life outside of writing. 


I went to a concert on Sunday. It was one of the best concerts of my life. It wasn't a high energy concert, so no, there was no moshing. But that didn't matter. I don't like moshing anyway. 


We were right in front of the stage. I'm relatively certain Israel looked straight at us. Being the dumbfounded fan-girl that I am, I gawked at them during their finale. It was pretty amazing. They came off the stage with us. They performed their last song completely unplugged. The whole audience on the floor fell onto their bums because that's what the band wanted. Like children, we sat criss-cross-apple-sauce in front of Blind Pilot, and listened to them play what was clearly their most meaningful song. Fortunately it was the best performance I have ever seen. Unfortunately, I will never be able to listen to the song the same way. After you sing a song with the artist that wrote it, you can't listen to the damn thing without remembering how much it meant to them. Seeing it performed with such care didn't quite taint it or ruin it, but it certainly changed my perspective of the song.


It baffled me, how much respected their music. That's the way a performer should be. 


One day, I hope to learn how to respect my music. I'll eventually create songs. And when I do, I will respect it my music much as Blind Pilot respected theirs. 


I will never perform for the love of performing, but for the love of the music, and the love I have for what my music is for. 


I hope this suffices for the lack of posts I've done lately. 


"Now I see you, 'til kingdom come
You're the one I want
to see me for all
the stupid shit I've done

Soil and six feet under,
Kept just like we were
Before you knew you'd know me
and you know me

Blooming up from the ground
3 rounds and a sound
Like whispering "you know me.
You know me."

So this was our song
This was our song.
I still see the lights
I can see them"


Yours until the pigs fly, 
Alessondra Marie

It's Just A Nightmare, Alright?

Pain slapped my face. It slammed me so hard, I was unable to identify what hit me. My stomach twisted into knots. Anxiety spread throughout my body. My hungry heart tugged towards anything that would satisfy the fear. My face flushed with embarrassment for allowing myself to be afraid. Irritation consumed me. I felt heat rise from my toes, to my chest, to my cheeks. An unearthly being possessed me. 


I was rampent.


I look up at the white shapes on my ceiling, begging for help. I cried out, but no one answered my troubled call. I melted into the fetal position; my face wrinkled my bed sheets. Tears blemished my complexion. I sat up to look into my mirror. I saw a hideous make-up stained character. I realized the empty eyes looking back at me were my own. Anger erupted inside of me. My reflection was despicable, loathsome, weak. Self-hatred infiltrated my mind. My unscathed body got destroyed in the crossfire of my violence. I yanked my hair until my scalp turned pink. I scratched my skin until my nails turned bloody. My small frame darkened with bruises. 


I was tormented.


Exhaustion slowly embraced me. Inhale. Exhale. I tried to focus on simpler things, but found myself glimpsing at my image in the mirror with disgust. Inhale. Exhale. I couldn't escape myself. I rolled over, my body fatigued. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. I fell silent, paralyzed, holding my breath. I wanted God to let me experience more pain. I didn't deserve to be numb. But there wasn't a feeling left for me to experience. 


I had been deceived. 
I was succumbed by insensibility. 
I slipped away.


For those of you that care, I want to explain a few things. I came across a picture that spoke to me. Seldom do I come across things that touch me so deeply that they inspire me to write. Usually I write about things that have just happened to me. It's usually all personal, alive and active feelings. But when i saw this, i felt lead to convey the picture with words. 


So this post is dedicated to anyone that's felt pain. It's to those of us that's been wounded so deeply that we look in the mirror and hate the person staring back at us. This is to those of us that have been deceived by ungodly things, and been tempted to destroy ourselves. Here's to those of us that battle with sensibility; the depressed, the hurt, the "cry babies." We're all entitled to our emotions. But we don't deserve to hate ourselves for feeling the way we do. 


This is the picture:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/audreyhutchinson/4145742676/
I wanted to give the photographer full credit for it. So I decided against the screen shot and just putting it on here. :]


Yours until the pigs fly,
Alessondra Maire

Unstoppable and Unmovable.

i question myself,

"why..."

you use your mind reading abilities and send me a cliche,

"anything to make you smile..."

i ask myself how i got here. 

i never saw you before. 

but i think you saw me at the first hello.

you drive me crazy. 

you put me in my place.

you're almost as unreasonable as i am. 

your logic is that of a child, but yet it's thorough.

all your actions are deliberate. 

you're conniving. 

all the traits i thought i wanted someone to lack, you have in abundance.

you're stronger than me. 

i hate that. 

you're more experienced than me.

i hate that. 

you do what you want when you want.

i hate that. 

so much.

i've never done this before. 

i've never been with someone strong.

someone that gets it. 

you get it. 

i hate that.

but the thing is

i like you

and i kind of sort of really like depending on you. 

stop being stronger than me.

i don't want to be a dependent.  

oh my goodness.

i'm so fucked. 

yours until the pigs fly,

alessondra marie

Outspoken.

days like this, i want to destroy something.
something of value.
something greatly cherished, or expensive. 


days like this, i want to pretend i'm five, just to throw a tantrum.
in the middle of the store in front of everyone.
in the middle of my bedroom, with no audience at all.


you all drive me crazy. 
m, m, a, a, d, v, t, e, s, p, y.
g, n, l.  
even the goddamn cat. 


just go away, will you? 


let me throw my tantrum in peace. 
let me be a child. 
don't make me be the strong one. 
i don't want to be the strong one.


i am not strong. 


i am weak, and fragile.


i can break at any moment.
shatter, like the mirror that soon will be destroyed. 


leave me alone. 


i'm not what you want.
nor what you need.
i've never been that. 
don't place me on a pedestal.


i am a raging lunatic at my best. 
at my worst? 


i am this. 


yours until the pigs fly,
alessondra marie. 

Window's Breaking

listening to the sounds of my body soothes me. 
the constant breathing, the shutter sound of blinking, my fingers tapping on the keyboard,
trying to figure out what to say. 
steadfast. 


i started to diet.
the amount of creamer i put in my coffee is counterproductive. 
it's impossible to get everything you want. 


there's so many different things to say. 
some of the things might offend you. 
but i'm not supposed to censor my blog.
it's mine. it's my feelings.
it's my diary. 


i feel like a puzzle. 
with only one piece missing to make me whole.
but that one piece is lost. 
gone. 
no where to be found. 


i have everything figured out accept for the one thing.


the problem is, i don't even know what that one thing is. 


so i apologize for being vague.
and for some of you, i apologize for being too frank.


but i don't know what the hell is missing.
maybe i need your validation and approval. 
maybe i'll find peace in vanity.
and maybe, 
just maybe, 
my solitude can be found somewhere within the gnawing sounds of my fingertips spewing out something even more selfish than the last thing they said. 


yours until the pigs fly,
alessondra marie

Be Peaceful and Untroubled.

god grant me the serenity
to accept the things i cannot change; 
courage to change the things i can; 
and wisdom to know the difference.



yours until the pigs fly,
alessondra marie

I Have To Remind You...

there was nothing normal about that day.


i got out of bed, went to brush my teeth like i did every morning. my brother was already out of bed and in the kitchen watching ABC 7 news. i heard some of the dialogue that took place between my brother and my mother.


"what movie is that? they have really good graphics." 
"you know andrew, i don't think that's a movie. i think this is actually happening." 


then my brother called me out of the bathroom to watch it with him. as my brother and i sat and watched the second plane crash into the second tower over and over again, my mom called my dad at the firehouse, and begged him to come home. of course he didn't. 


"steph, i can't. you have to understand. i am not allowed to."
"no, you have to. you could die."


my brother and i slowly walked into our rooms, in complete disbelief. i was convinced i was going to die. that we were next. i was just waiting, literally, for the bomb to drop. in a desperate act to console myself, i insisted on bringing sally, my favorite stuffed bunny, to school. 


the school day started with an assembly. i remember what my principle said to us as if it were yesterday that she said it.


"you guys have nothing to worry about. you're safe here. whats going on isn't happening here. it's happening really far away. nothing bad will happen to you guys. i promise. i know you're all scared and don't completely understand; but that's okay. i'm scared too. but if we stick together, we'll get through this." 


as her words of safety sunk into my mind, i felt protected. shortly after that i realized that as i was safe in dublin, california, there were kids my age that were just as afraid as i was. but they had reason to be because it was actually happening to them. 


when we got back to the classroom, our teacher did the unthinkable; something completely unacceptable in a public school. 
she had us pray. 
as i grabbed my neighbors hand, for just one moment, my six year old brain wrapped around the idea that i was living through history. i realized that i was apart of something that would be taught to first graders just like me for years to come. and as quickly as the idea came, it left. 


the rest of the day consisted of movies and games. 


i went home, just to realize my mom and my neighbor's mom decided we weren't allowed to play outside. i remember stomping outside on the cement border between our houses, pouting about how it wasn't fair. i stood there trying to recompose myself, and as i did i looked around outside. the sky was overcast but it was hot and humid. suddenly i got goosebumps. i was terrified. 


it was as if the earth was mourning the loss of the lives too. 


my neighbor went back to her house; i went back to mine. my brother and i played video games the rest of the night. 


you see, i don't want to forget what happened. 


even though that day caused my irrational fear of flying. 
even though it scared me. 
even though it made me realize what kind of hate the people of this world are capable of. 


i don't want to ever forget. 


i don't want to forget what my fellow americans did for one another. i don't want to forget that firefighter and police men ran into an obviously fatal situation to save as many people as possible. they demonstrated selflessness. i don't want to forget the families that lost loved ones. i don't want to forget that people lost their mothers, fathers, children. i don't want to forget the thousands of heroic deaths that happened. 


if i do; if my six year old memory doesn't serve me right and i forget that day ten years ago, then what will stop you from forgetting? and if you forget, then all those deaths will be in vain. 


i don't want this to become another holiday where we hardly think about what happened many years ago. i don't want teachers to teach their children with a buffered curriculum because it might scare the kids. they need to know the reality of what happened on September 11, 2001. 


i want to commemorate those that lost their families, friends, and lives because of what happened ten years ago today. but i can't even find the words to describe the magnitude of what happened. i don't know how to explain how the terrorist attack affected my six year old life. but that's not the only thing it impacted, our personal lives, it changed the very fabrics of reality. it set a new standard of human cruelty. 


i don't want to hate those that did this to us. i feel sorry for them. i pity them. i hope god has mercy on all of their souls. there is no justification for what they did. they attacked innocent people. they took countless lives. they tried to disrupt and destruct our country. but instead of us individually falling down and turning against each other, we fell down together; as a country. we are the United States of America. we are united. so we got back up together; as a country. 


for this strength and demonstration of selflessness, i am proud to be an american. 


i pray for mercy on every last soul that was lost on that day. 
i pray for peace; may nothing like this happen again.
i pray for grace; bless everyone involved. 


sincerely, 
alessondra marie

Less Than Forty Winks.

i wake up.
i look above my bed covers that stack a mile high to see the sun kissing me through shut blinds.
i throw a pillow over my head. 
it reminds me of my fear of suffocating. 
i choose the lesser of the two evils. 
i roll back over, blow my nose, fall back asleep.


i wake up.
i wait for your shadowy figure to come around the dark corner and emerge into my room. 
i wait for you to wrap your long arms around me and make me feel better.
i wait for you to at least call.
you don't show up.
i roll back over, blow my nose, fall back asleep.


i wake up.
and although sleep continues to tug my eyelids closed, i stay awake. 
i turn on an animated box that is too loud. 
i open up another that is too bright.
i take care of my daily routine. 
my body moves rigidly. 
my hands are stiff from sleep. 
i roll back over, blow my nose, but i can't find myself to drift into the land of nod.


with nothing left to do, i decide to plea my case. 
i have a desire to know my kin.
i compair the reasons why i should to the reasons why i shouldn't.
god knows there are reasons why i shouldn't.
but a clay wall has been dried before i can finish. 
there is no shaping the outcome to my liking. 


all i see is red before he speaks his piece.
i think his explanations are futile.
an inappropriate laugh bubbles up inside of me.
but i push it down when i see his eleven lines appear. 
what have i got to lose anyway? 


apparently my life.


comical relief. 
it's blissful. 


the moon licks the edge of my shutters now.
i climb back into my crisp white sheets and look for something to satisfy me. 
my efforts are meek. 
but i find one thing.
"You'll learn for yourself how life goes"
i roll back over, blow my nose, and fall asleep.


yours until the pigs fly,
alessondra marie.

Once Upon A Time...

there lived a girl that had books scattered across her room.


she frivolously searched for a story that would distract her from the elaborate novel god created with her name.


no matter how many books she read, how many stories she put herself in, or how many times she tried to escape, her hunger would not be satisfied.


she was consistently romanced by these novels.
they knew how to entice her. 
entrance her.
connect to her. 


the books had a predetermined destination. 
she knew it would end.
she know it would end happy. 


in these books:
the heroine always knew what to say and when to say it.
the heroine always knew how to handle a situation. 
the heroine always got to the other side.


when things seem desperate and when they seem defeated, there would still be another 100 pages left. 
so the girl knew that things wouldn't be close to finished.
she knew that things would get better.


books were tangible to her. 


but she didn't have a book to represent her life. 


she never knew how many pages were left.
she never knew if there would be an upside.
she never knew how to say the right things.


she didn't know how to be strong like the heroines she read of.


but she can try.
she needs to try.
she will try. 


yours until the pigs fly,
alessondra marie

My Heart Breaks With Yours.

i've failed to communicate my availability. 

it's frustrating; i want to scream in their faces

"i'm right here. all for you.

i'm here for you." 

but it'd be insensitive to yell. 

perhaps it's insensitivity that will convince them that i am here. 

i feel like god with all the power.

but yet i feel so helpless because i don't know how to convey that i can help. 

i watch you suffer, and i have no idea what to say.

i feel responsible to fix it. 

i feel responsible to fix you.

but i don't know how.

i just know how to love you.

yours until the pigs fly,

alessondra marie.

I Think I See A Rainbow.

i often get so caught up in the everyday drama's that i forget the good that has happened in my life.

the joy and redemption that has taken place in my life isn't a thing of the past. 

i am saved from myself on a daily basis. 

looking at who i was i realize i was beyond redemption, and yet i got it anyway. 

i cursed my family, my friends, my god. 

i was so hurt, i wanted someone to be punished for what i'd been through.

so i punished myself. 

but when you become desperate, you'll cling to anything. 

i had a glimmer of a hope dangled before me, and i was fortunate enough to cling to that instead of something else superficial. 

i could have gone from destructive to destroyed. 

but i went from destroyed to redeemed. 

i forget this all the time.

but i have a good friend that reminds me about my hope and future. 

i've been through the darkness, and i don't need to again.

all the mistakes i make, you make, we make, are forgiven and forgotten by the one that matters. 

it holds no volume in his eyes. 

we can't make a mistake big enough for him to turn his back on us. 

it's impossible. 

and although we go through life, eager to point out mistakes in ourselves and others, it ultimately does not matter. 

we're redeemed through him.

so all the mishaps that have been going on in my life are irrelevant. 

they hurt and they suck.

but that's the end of the sob story. 

"i know that whatever you're going through is the dark before the dawn and that your life is a continuous story of redemption."

i needed someone to smack me across the head to remind me. 

so i figured you might too. 

yours until the pigs fly,

alessondra marie

After The Storm.

my longing and desire to go to london has not yet subsided. 

i thought perhaps it was a phase; something short lived.

but the more i hide from my american culture and submerge myself into british culture,

the more i long to leave here and go there. 

i just want to run away from my mediocre american teenager issues. 

especially because they're no longer childish.

none of my problems derive from lack of maturity.

it all comes from growing up too fast. 

i want to run away.

but i know i can't do that. 

i want to fix it.

but i know i can't do that either.

so now i feel useless. 

i have an insufficient purpose. 

hell, i have to have a purpose in order for my purpose to be insufficient.

"night has always pushed up day

you must know life to see decay

but i won't rot, i won't rot

not this mind and not this heart,

i won't rot."

-M&S

yours until the pigs fly,

alessondra marie

Fictional Stories.

I read it and i felt my face turn numb. 


positive? 
positive. 


you are?
yeah.
fuck.


i saw everything our friendship had built up to be crumble down and reconstruct itself in an instant.
the way i saw things go, the plans we fantasized.
it all all melted away.


beyond that, her life, the shinning star she planned on being, suddenly became out of reach.
all her hard work, all the effort she's made to satisfy everyone else became useless. 


the one thing she had to make herself happy became the one thing that truly turned around and bit her in the ass.


a moment of trust.
it changed her life.


she'll have a lifetime of regrets. 
or a subconscious constantly denying reality.


she doesn't have the brain capacity to not go into denial. 
i don't think any of us do. 


this is not real.


yours until the pigs fly,
alessondra marie. 

The Cave.

"I will hold on to hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I know my name as it's called again

So come out of your cave walking on your hands
And see the world hanging upside down
You can understand dependence
When you know the maker's hand


So make your siren's call
And sing all you want
I will not hear what you have to say


Cause I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be"



amen. 


thank you Mumford & Sons.


yours until the pigs fly,
alessondra marie

I'm Happy

i feel like i've finally fallen into a routine. 


i don't even mind how much back and forth there is. 
i'd drive between our towns a million times if it meant we could all be together one last time. 


i'm finally not third wheelin' it. 
it gets exhausting trying to fit in. 


it's nice to not be alone. 


i can't believe it. 
i'm not alone. 


it's pathetic really. 
T thought i was a non-sexual being. 
it finally became real to him.
i am officially a girl in his eyes. 


yay.


i just thought you deserved a post.
even though there was really nothing to say. 


yours until the pigs fly, 
alessondra marie