The Glass

“Is your glass half full or half empty?”

Well, fictional person I created to start an imaginary conversation for the purpose of making a point, it really depends on the past condition of the glass.

I always had trouble with the “Are you a glass half full or half empty” concept because my answer seemed to be “it depends” every time. It depends on how the glass got to that point.

See, a glass isn’t always one or the other. If water (or wine…) was just poured to the top and someone drank half of it, then the glass is now half empty. Alternately, if the glass was just filled to the current level, then it is half full. You can’t look at something and, with no knowledge of it’s past or it’s circumstances, decide it’s current condition. Its’s just too relative for that. So the answer to the question is going to change with every different circumstance.

It’s relative to the beholder. 

Daenerys Targaryen, Draco Malfoy, and Me

Discovering myself is one of my favorite things to do, no matter how untrue or lame it may be. Meyers briggs, Buzzfeed quizzes, deep conversations with people who know me well, no matter the form of discovery, I’ll enjoy it. The amount of quizzes titled “Decorate your dream apartment and we will tell you which disney princess you are” I’ve taken is honestly way too many to count. I know those are highly inaccurate and honestly stupid, but I enjoy them. I read the descriptions and nod at the sentences that are accurate and roll my eyes at the farfetched ones. (I’m Belle, in case any of you were wondering) Despite the unscientific, random aspects of the quizzes, they still help me discover who I am a bit more. And for the longest time, I had no idea who I was. 

Neighbors

Hanna smiles, standing with one arm tucked under the other. She sips from her large coffee mug, smacking her lips at the slight bitter taste. The sun climbs up in the sky, beaming down on their small town. The people on the street outside all stay bundled in large jackets, bracing themselves against the cold wind.

A young mom pulls her front door shut behind her, herding two small children to the car. Hanna raises her hand, waiving at the woman through the window. She’s greeted by a wide smile and an enthusiastic wave.

Hanna watches the car drive away, her throat suddenly feeling tight. The house looks relaxed, as if it were yawning after it’s crazy family leaves for the day. Hanna looks down the street to see an older boy riding his bike to school, fighting the morning wind. Hanna sighs and takes another long sip from her coffee mug.

A cat rubs against Hanna’s leg and she bends down to pet the animal’s soft fur. “Good morning, Georgie,” she greets. “Did you sleep last night?”

A Game

“Let’s play a game.”

“That sounds eerie.”

“No, it’ll be a fun game.”

“Alright, how does it go?”

“I spend every moment of my day loving who you are, and all you have to do is let me.”

“That’s not a game.”

“You just have to be yourself. Then you win the game.”

A Short Update

I’m so salty about this.

With blisters covering my feet and drooping eyelids, I laid down on a hotel bed and turned on the T.V. Harry Potter was playing and my mom handed me my taco from the famous ‘Fuegos’.

College Station. My future home.

To be fair, I was in a hotel room and not my leased townhouse. I also only had two outfits in my suitcase rather than enough for an entire year. I was only in the town for a few days for the dreaded ‘New Student Conference’.

I hated that I had to attend those dumb meetings filled with hundreds of freshman. I’m a senior. I know what I’m doing. I’ve been in college for three years. I’ve worked with professors, written final papers, and figured out the layout of the campus. I found the best places to eat breakfast and lunch, discovered the quietest studying corner on campus, and met friends in all my classes. I know what I’m doing. 

You are worth it.

You make a difference every day.

Every smile.

Every ‘are you okay’?

Every piece of art.

It makes a difference.

And don’t let anyone tell you different. Who you are is a hero to someone. You lead your story, and you can control that story. Who you are is special, strong, creative and great. Don’t let anyone tell you different. Family members don’t know you better than you know you. Lies don’t get to tell you your worth. Your friends don’t get to decide your worth for you and neither do strangers on the subway.

How Do I love?

When gift giving is a joy and not a burden, I know I’m in a good place.

I’ve found I show love best by giving presents. Much to my bank accounts despair, I adore spending money on the people I love. A random bouquet of flowers to show my friends I’m proud of them, a mug referencing our favorite TV show to congratulate them, the pair of leggings they’ve wanted for months to say ‘happy birthday, go on a run.’
If you hate spending money on ‘useless’ presents, don’t think this blog is calling you out. Gift giving is not how everyone shows love, anyways. You may show love through spending time with people, serving them, or just simple words of affirmation, all of which are completely valid. I, on the other hand, give gifts to tell someone I admire them.

Lights

It was almost 10:30. I’d been driving for hours, 13 hours go be exact, when the sky started to sparkle. One after another sparks of color shot into the sky and exploded in a puff of glittering light. I was enamored.

I watched the fireworks, eyes drifting from the road. They were so… random. It was the beginning of march, no date the world was celebrating. No reason to use such an extravagant form of celebration.

I watched them in the distance sparkle, shout, and explode. I had to reach them soon, right? I was driving towards them. They had to come from somewhere.

Fairies, Mermaids, and Mothers.

We live in a world of fictional creatures. Fairies, mermaids, dragons, and mothers.

From a young age we discover these mysterious, all powerful creatures, our imaginations suddenly in a metaphorical ball pit of perfection and endless possibilities.

Any time I was in a pool I instantly became a mermaid. My tail was gold and blue and my hair matched with a stark, sparkling blue hue. I kicked through the “ocean” on a “first priority” mission given to me by the king of the ocean (who also happened to be my father.)

My Pet Dragon

A swallow that’s just a smidge too loud. A laugh of someone in the room next door. Pages turning sound like hurricanes. The air is too hot. Your clothes are too heavy. Someone sniffs. How dare they?

Sometimes every little thing, every corner of the earth, has a single goal: to piss you off.

It’s easy to say, “I’m just irritated”. To brush it off like it were a fly landing on your cupcake.

But somehow, that fly has turned into a fuming dragon settling on top of your life, breathing in your air and out fire that burns your hair.

How does no one else see the dragon perched on your shoulders?