My Expression of Love

Do you know how much I love you
Can you see my devotion leaping from my eyes
Feel my burning love everytime I touch you

My world has focus with you in it
Each breath I take near you keeps me alive with joy
Your smile gives me warmth and brightens up my day

Your words are wisdom that helps me plan the future

I love you do you know that
I can’t live without
My heart feels enormous when you undress me with your eyes

Do you realize I’ll follow you to the end of this earth

You my beloved
You are my heart
You I love even in death

This Blank Page, What Will it Say…

I stare at this blank page and I wonder. When I write do my words mean anything? Am I truly connecting with someone or are my words meaningless and a waste of internet space?

I don’t know if my thoughts are “intellectual” or have an “impact” on the world. I don’t know if and when you read my words you laugh and shake your head saying, “What is she doing?! She should stop while she is still ahead! She isn’t a writer, she is a joke!”

Maybe my self doubt makes me a bad writer. Maybe my low self-esteem helps me hide behind these encrypted letters. Maybe I become the person I want to be when I write.

This page is blank and I sit and stare at it. Waiting for that moment, that urge. The fingers start to move, to create. The letters become words and the words become a sentence.

What do they mean, why were they created. Was it really me or that small voice taking over. I see the shape sometimes but I am to afraid to walk towards it. I’m afraid to find out that the shape the voice is me!

Who is the writer, who is the creator of these post. Why does the feeling of satisfaction take ahold of me when I finally push that “Publish” button. Why do I never remember the words I wrote unless I re-read them.

I stare at this blank page and I forget. I forget my world, I forget my chores, I forget myself. I forget that if I look up from this screen I will see that it is an amazing sunny day outside. That I should go and bath in the sunlight…. I don’t, I’d rather sit here in front of this blank page and create words into sentences for others to read and criticize.

This blank page is my template of worlds that only I can create. If anyone else love’s them, gets inspired by them or laughs at them then I am proud to have publish it. This blank page is my outlet that no one can and will never understand; even if they are writers themselves. Each one of us have a unique voice, a unique print.

This blank page is mine, to express and imagine to my hearts content.

Until Next Time,

Abbreviation should be limited! (Rant)

Okay this is more of a rant then anything else so I apologize to the readers that follow me. This is not my normal but hey who said this blog or me are normal.

First off I understand that this is a new generation, more writing is done through our IPhone’s, IPad, etc. I’m okay with that. I’m okay with the short version of LOL or OMG (laughing out loud or Oh My God), type of expression that I put on a text or blog occasionally. I’m even okay on putting USMC (United States Marine Corps), DOD (Department of Defense), you get the gist. I’m even okay when you are taking down notes and need to write things down quickly and you don’t know the art of short hand.

For example:
Sub. wnt dwnstrs and prceeded to stab vic. ft. prints otlne by the vics bld shows a pattern sub tk. Sub has ble eyes, blnd hair and is wht.

Subject went downstairs and proceeded to stab victim. Foot prints outline by the victims blood shows a pattern of the subject took. Subject has blue eyes, blonde hair and is white.

In those instances I am okay with short abbreviation of words, we do it in the military too. I’m sure in a lot of profession’s you have abbreviation of words to make your life easier. I understand that kids or people my age 32 (not old but not stupid young either), use this form of writing in a social (phone or chatting) settings.

What I don’t agree with this form of writing is when I am reading a blog post that I’m really interested in reading. I do have on occasion LOL’s, OMG, SMLH’s etc. on my post. When you have those abbreviations on almost every SINGLE sentence, your KILLING ME HERE! I know that my grammar, punctuation and spelling needs a lot of work. I am doing my best to make sure that with every post, twitter, facebook and google+ update that I write has a well written constructed thought. Yes I might put a few lol or maybe even OMG occasionally, I don’t make it a habit and I don’t use abbreviation’s as if they were down right appropriate words ( I know I am said this already but can you blame me?).

I know I’m old fashion and I am doing my best to get into the “now” scene of writing but there a a few things in my life that I like to stay old school. Especially when it is reading or writing, This is one of the oldest form of communication and art that it’s frustrating seeing people getting away from it.

I am not an editor, I am not a teacher, but I am a person that enjoys a good post or feed especially when I can understand it. Lets not lose the one thing that us as humans have had for thousands (if not more) of years. Lets keep the art of good grammar like it should be, plain, simple and non-abbreviated!

Rant finished

Until next time,

Inspiration Comes from Within

Today is going to be a very different post. Its not about my progress or life its about something that has taken me so many years to find.

My Inspiration.

When I was younger I loved writing and drawing. I was good at it too. Of course my parents didn’t have the funds to buy the products like drawing paper, drawing pencils or journals to write in. What I did have though was a lot of imagination and used my regular line paper to put my creativity to work. Of course if you look at one of my tabs I talk a little bit about how I lost some of my work and why I stop writing. I also talk about who encouraged me to start.

Well since then it has been about 5 years. I started writing a story and stopped for a while. Then the writing was on and off. Recently though it seems that my flow of writing has been coming to me more frequently. I feel as if my characters come into my mind and they are the ones writing not me. Some of you might think that I am crazy but for others might have that feeling or know what I am talking about. I truly believe though that in the end there has to be inspiration coming from somewhere, call it a muse, person, emotion, painting and etc.

I can say that for the past couple of days since I have been editing my story and writing more of it I keep thinking of my inspiration. Where is it coming from, what is the thing that is motivating to keep writing. The one thing other then the character’s in head making my fingers itching to get my keyboard or grab a pen and write whats comes in my head..

The more I think about it the more confident I am to what my true inspiration is. Simple LOVE, Love is my inspiration and its not the love to write how most people might believe. The inspiration that is coming from the emotion love is my husband. My family love is constant, is always there. The love of my husband is not only constant but grows to a dependency that makes me feel lost and alone when we are upset at each other. That is where I have noticed something very weird… ready….

When we are happy go lucky I tend to write off my a@s! But when we are upset at one another I tend to stop writing, I find myself with writers block. I never thought that being in love could be a form on inspiration of anything. Even though my husband does not like me reading my book because he says it is to gory for him (he is a bit nervous that I have such violent and horrific ideas in my head), he supports me and pushes me to write.

So for you that have so many outlets to find inspirations I salute you, because before my own realization I didn’t understand when people talked about their different inspiration they have. Now I understand, now I can say that I have found my inspiration and will never let it go.

Until Next Time,

Met one of my writing goals! (Imagine me doing the Happy dance in PJ’s!!)

Hello everyone,

I know that I have written on here once today already, but as you know my trend is to post whenever I have something to say. The reason I am posting this right now is because I am extremely excited right now. I just reached 10,444 words into Shadow Voices!! I told myself that I wanted at least 10,000 words to finish the story or if it needed to continue then it will. Well it seems like Shadow Voices does not want to finish!! 

Of course looking at is in the Nanowrimo way I am way under the verbiage count of 50,000 words needed. Its okay though, I am not going to stress over it. I know that this is my first year in participating in nanowrimo so as long as I keep trying I think that I will do ok. Who knows maybe this will become a novel or just stay what I think it originally will become; a short story.

So All I wanted to express is that I am doing my happy dance!! I met my first goal reaching my word count. Now its time to write and hope that the story ends or finding an ending for Shadow Voices by the end of the month. I have other story ideas that I want to start on but I don’t want to start them until I am finished with this one.

By the end of November I plan of starting my second edit (myself) which I will give myself a month, from then I will send it to my friend and have him do a final edit. Hopefully he only takes a month, after that I have to decide on a book cover and well making a decision if I will be selling it through amazon books or other independent sources or going to a publisher house if they take my book.

Once my friend has my book though I will start on my second book… depending on how this one ends I… well let me NOT get ahead of myself. One step at a time. first celebrate!!

10,444 words and counting!!! (Happy dance, Happy dance, Happy dance!!) 

Once More to the Jungle of Guatemala

This is an essay I did when in writing class. I am thinking of expanding it into an actual story. Maybe for young children. If you read it let me know what you think??

Being seven years old and walking into the jungle of my parents native country was an experience, this Los Angeles native will never forget. Stepping into the trail my senses became alive. I could hear the animals and feel the tesxture’s of the most beautiful sight in frount of me. I could taste the richness of the air. I shivered with anticipation to observe my land that I’ve missed and haven’t explored until now.
Closing my eyes, my ears slowly open and capture the beautiful primal songs so I immerse myself and tuned out all other music I have learned to love. Chirping, whistling; an occasional rustle of branches and objects falling around set a rhythmical ballad that set a calm feeling over me. Grabbing my father’s hand, I ask him to dance with me, to twirl me in this musical symphony that only this place can give us. Smiling we waltz until we were rudely interrupted by the conductor’s growl showing his displeasure.
Trees, leaves, and exotic flowers feel smooth under my fingers. The smooth texture reminds me of my mother’s nurturing touch. Of course, not all the beautiful natural habitat is calm and forgiving. Some wildlife plants are vicious to the touch or others can be so deceiving. I catch my breath when I see before me the most unique red blood blue pedal flower. Transfixed on her beauty I lean closer to feel and smell her, while my hand slowly goes to touch her beautiful body. My hands tremble at the roughness of her stem. Sliding my finger outside her outline I will soon see how deceiving she is. “Be careful Liza.” My Tio warned, “This one lets you get close, and then, closes on you. That’s how this flower survives.” I keep looking at her transfixed while my finger is slowly being wrapped by her beautiful pedals. Slowly I feel her small but vicious thorns pinning into my finger. Quickly my Tio cuts her beautiful stem and I see her white blood seeping out. I feel her slipping away while her pedals slowly unwraps itself from my finger. “I told you be careful.” My Tio says. A tear of shame and loss rolls down my face, because of me and my thrust to touch her has cost her death.
I followed my Tio’s instruction and close my eyes. I slowly open my mouth while I inhale the air around me. Just like he said, the air tastes as if I were drinking fresh water. Looking to my left I have an amazing waterfall. I stretch my neck upwards and it seems the waterfall is as tall as the sky. I look down and I only see white foam round a hole that should have a small lake or creek to hold this water. My father scoops some mist from the leaves and takes a drink. He smiles and tells me to do the same. Thaking a sip of the water I want to put it in a gallon bottle and take it home with me.
I have heard countless stories about the jungle of Guatemala from my parents. I always imagined it to be beautiful. To witness the music from the animals, feel the soothness of the plant life and to be able to taste the jungles flavor just by inhaling the air. This Los Angeles native has become even for a moment a native Guatemalian.
via PressSync


The hammer slips through my sweaty blistered hand, breathing heavily I look through the small hole that I have made through out the years. I can’t believe that in twelve years I have only been able to chip a pea size hole on this cold brick wall, that has been my prison. So much hope in the begining that slowly turned to anger and now just feeling dispair at this slow progress. Only if I had some explosive’s I would be free, freedom just 4 solid brick walls keeping me from it.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath near the hole. A scent of fresh wild flowers register happy memories that I hope will become into realty.

Hearing the cackle inside this box tears stream down my face. Please, someone help me. I am trying but 12 years I only have this pea size hole to show for it. I won’t give up, I CAN’T. I need to break free and tell it all….

I rub my hands on the worn pants that are paper thin, pick up the hammer raise it over my head and swing towards the pea size hole again. This time when it strikes, I hope I get it to collapse…