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Complexity

I am not sure where to begin. I almost wish I could hook my mind up to my computer and download my thoughts but

a.) That would be really weird.

b.) It is also not possible.

c.)That’s also kinda gross.

d.) Thoughts and wave patterns are too complex to capture with technology

e.) I am not fully aware of my thoughts so it would come out as cgdffgidhehqiqgwt1w (or some other equivalent.)

I’m also not sure why I just used letters instead of numbers…..weird.

So I’ve been thinking a lot lately about complexity and how I wish I had better depth perception. Like how cool it would be if I could look at a person and understand the level of their complexity instead of telling myself things like “No one understands what it’s like to be me!” and other nonsense like that. It seems to be so simple to write people off as being 1D. Like what you see is what you get because if we look at someone and see their complexities, then we’d have to address those same complexities within ourselves and accept that we can’t sum up people in mere sentences and confine them to being simple beings incapable of understanding us.

I’m also marveling at the fact that we are able to think thoughts in an infinite and complex multi-dimensional mind and command our fingers to press on buttons with little symbols as a feeble attempt to momentarily grasp a fragment of this complexity to share with others. Is that cool or what?!

And I keep on frantically trying to grasp onto bits of my mind and soul by momentarily capturing bits and pressing them into poems and blog posts and late night 2 am conversations and still I have yet to swim deep enough into the depths of my soul. And maybe I do all of this because I want to matter. I want to be remembered. I want bits of my soul to fly away and land in the hearts of others and to have people read my words and say aloud to the universe that “Yes. I understand. For a fleeting moment, one soul managed to burrow a bit of herself in the lines of a poem and I understand myself better because of it. I and bits of the world are better just because this person exists.”

And I am frustrated because I am but one. A speck of dust caught up in a whirlwind, unaware of how fast I am spinning, and being flung from one life event to the next with no control or sense of direction. I feel like I am a universe living as a human being for a little while.

I wish I had the ability to time travel. To skip about time, just as one would skip a rock across a pond. I wouldn’t change anything. I would just watch. And listen. To perceive all the little bits of humanity before they disappear forever.

A few weeks ago, I visited an antique store in my town And pushed into a corner was an old photo album. There were pictures of a little boy, playing on the banks of a beach. They were taken in the early 1920s. Almost a hundred years ago. And as I picked up the album, some old letters fell out. They were dated  1920 and 1922. The first was a letter announcing the engagement of a young woman named Ruth. There was also a picture of her and she was lovely. She must have been only 19? 20? And then I opened the second letter…it was written by an older woman who had known Ruth as a girl. It was addressed to Ruth’s husband. It said:

(roughly paraphrasing this..)

Dear Willam,

“I am so sorry to hear about the passing of our dear Ruth and I must offer my condolences. Ruth was such a lively soul, full of grace and wisdom well beyond her years. She will surely be missed. It is truly unfortunate that she will not be able to pass on her legacy and wisdom to your son. It seems so unfair that someone so great must die so young but surely God has a plan…”

And it went on and on about how beautiful and precious was the life of Ruth and I couldn’t help but cry. Everyone who ever knew and loved her is long dead and the only person alive to remember her is me. The life of Ruth spanned the bridge of time to me, in 2016 who stood in a musty store shedding tears for the long dead.

I don’t want my life to be reduced to a couple of old pictures and letters from a time long forgotten. Ruth was a complex human being who was constrained by time and hers ran out so soon. Too soon. And I don’t know why these things happen and I felt and understood the anguish of Ruth’s husband and friend as they tried to grasp onto bits of their loved one before she disappeared forever into the unforgiving vortex of time. But now, I have immortalized her. Now, from  this day forward, the world will have evidence of her existence. She will not be forgotten and as long as there exists those to remember her.

So please do not let yourself be reduced to an old photo album and a couple of letters. You are a complex human being and it is okay if you have trouble grasping your complexity. Just don’t ignore the complexities of humanity as you try to fleetingly grasp onto yours. And please, remember Ruth. A lively soul like you who left this world far too soon. -Kate.

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Verbal Ink Essay

So I was looking through my stats here on this blog and I noticed that some of my most popular posts are just essays that I’ve written for scholarships. So here is another one that I wrote a little over a month ago. I never heard back from the people who held the contest so I assume I didn’t win, which is kinda sad because I am quite proud of this essay and was hoping I would win. Anyways, the prompt was:

 

How has language helped you find your voice?

(And I’m always looking for constructive criticism on my writing so feel free to share any tips or thoughts in the comments below! Enjoy!)

 

About a year ago, I was reading some poetry by my favorite poet when an idea popped into my head. If she did it, why couldn’t I? What’s stopping me from being a poet? Poetry was something I’d had a history with, I’d attempted writing poetry back when I was a preteen but soon tossed it aside, figuring there was no point to doing something when I had nothing important to say. So I had stopped.

But last year, I had fallen into that dangerous mindset of believing that I did not have a voice. That there were no words I could say that carried any weight. And this bothered me. I began to take a good look at my life and wonder: “What can I say that is important? What do I have to offer?”

That night, I decided to throw caution to the wind and just write. So I wrote a poem. It was terrible, but it was mine. It was my voice loud and clear. So then I wrote another poem. And another. And another. And throughout that summer I continued writing mediocre poetry and posting it on my blog that no one read.

It was then Autumn and all I had was poetry no one read on a blog that no one ever read. Everything felt safe, I was comfortable with this arrangement.

Ah, but then I had another idea….

What if I tried to get my blog popular? What if I posted my poetry on Instagram?

So that’s what I did. I reached out, marketed, my blog posts got better, my poetry was climbing out of the pit of mediocre. I was scared half to death of how my poetry would be received.

And over those few months, something amazing happened.

I had found my voice.

Soon people from all over the world were reading my poetry and my blog. I received comments on Instagram about how inspiring my poetry was, how brave I was to post them and how I must continue writing. I had done it. I found my voice and boy, was it loud!

Around that time, a young woman stumbled across my Instagram account and we got to talking . We both loved the same TV shows, we’d come from similar backgrounds and really seemed to hit it off. Over the next few weeks she began to share her story with me. That she was a recovering alcoholic who had let alcohol ruin her life for a year. That experience had given her major PTSD and she was currently in a bad place mentally and physically. I’d of course had no experience with this sort of thing and couldn’t believe that she was reaching out to me, who was only 16 at the time. She was 22.

But then I got to thinking about how my blog was doing and all the people I was inspiring with my poetry. And I realized that I had a way with words. I had the ability to encourage others, to bring a sense of hope wherever I went. So again, I thought:

“Well, why not?”

So we continued talking and I was there to offer words of encouragement and tried my best to talk her through panic attacks and to help her be optimistic again. They were just words I had figured and it’s not like I could actually make an impact with just talking, right?

And it never hit me until she finally wrote about her story and how I had helped her. Permanently altered the course of her life. Here’s an excerpt from her blog:

“Through this account I met some amazing people, one of those people being my friend Kate.
She runs the account kate_cruz17 on Instagram.
We are two uniquely different people, but I swear to you that if it wasn’t for Kate I’d be a whole lot worst than I am.

She from day one knew that I had a story, and over time she learned it and helped me through it.”

And then it hit me. I have a voice. My words are powerful and life altering. I am no longer that shy, timid girl last year who believed that I have nothing of value or importance to say. With my voice, my words, I can help people, I can make a difference.

I can change the world.

In a few months, my first poetry book is coming out. In less than a year, I have written over 50 poems! I have readers from all over the world who hear my voice. And over this past year I’ve realized that one voice can change the world if only we have the courage to speak up.

Wellspring of Words

Words aren’t meant to stay hidden
In the depths of our souls

Share the story of your life
For there are truths that need to be told

Do not let your words land in whispers
You are too powerful to barely exist
For I have seen the change we can bring
So be an open hand, not a fist

And I know that right now you feel weak
All you can do is force air out your lungs
But we are not creatures of silence
There is still much work to be done

And like you, I did not know what to do
Until one day I picked up a pen
And began writing my story in a rhyming verse
And now my words pour forth with no end

 

 

 

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Current Status: Senoritis

I did a few personal posts back when I first started this blog and since I cannot find it in me to write a huge, deep thoughts post, I’m once again going to do something similar. As you can probably gather from the title, I’m suffering from Senoritis. I am SO close to finishing High School and it’s driving me crazy because I just want to be done already! I’ll be graduating Mid-May so I have about 2 months, 2 weeks to go! The rest of all this is just going to be an update on whats been going on in my life recently so don’t feel obligated to read any of this!

Anyways, this past Saturday, I FINALLY heard back from the honors program and if you follow me on Instagram (@kate_cruz17), you will already know that I did not get in. (You can read my essay here.) I’m actually not as disappointed as I initially thought I would be because I know I can apply again after my first semester and I also know that there will be plenty of opportunities for me, wherever I go. Also, I would like to thank y’all for actually caring about whether or not I got in and for encouraging me throughout the very long waiting process! xoxo

Also on Saturday, I got to, once again, attend Winter Jam! For those of you who haven’t heard of it, it’s a Christian concert comprised of 10 bands who tour the east coast every winter. This year was my 7th year attending. Meaning I was only 11 years old when I first went!

And then today, (Sunday) I received a Presidents Volunteer Service Award for all the hours of volunteer work I’ve put in at a nearby Science Museum. It felt like a well timed reminder that I can make a difference, despite not getting into the honors program. I was once again reminded that life is what you make of it and even though I didn’t get in (and very well may never), there are still things I can achieve. Important things that can one day change the world.

  
 But the best part was watching my friend, receive her award. She’d been volunteering at the museum for 9 years but couldn’t make it today because she was in the hospital. Because of her spine, (I don’t know what the disease is called) she’s in a wheelchair and has had kidney failure amongst a number of other things. So she’s always in and out of the hospital. Since she couldn’t be there with us, I called her up on Skype so she could at least see everything that was going on.

The Volunteer Coordinator was giving out awards and such and then saved hers for last because we were waiting for one of the employees spouse to get to her room in the hospital. And right when he announced that she had won the award, the spouse walked into her  hospital room with her certificate and a ton of balloons. We all started cheering and she was laughing/crying and it was the sweetest thing to witness. We were all so proud of her and how she still manages to come to the museum with a smile on her face, despite her health.

Oh and I’m pretty sure I’ve only mentioned this on Instagram, but in a month or two (I haven’t set a definite date), I’ll be publishing a collection of 50 of my poems! The book will be called “Like a Lotus” and I can’t wait to see the finished product! There have been a few requests from friends of mine to publish my poetry, but I’m hoping the rest of y’all will buy a copy as well.

 

Hope you all have a lovely week! ~Kate

(I’m trying to get on a blogging schedule again and will hopefully have another post on Friday!)

 

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