Predictable? Hardly.

Endless circles, cycles...paths to nowhere certain.

How much can someone take? Of day in and day out predictability...of life passing by...ever changing and staying utterly the same in a basic level. In a blink, a new week starts - a week has passed. A year older.

Growing up you are fed the 'you can be anything you want to be' pill one too many times. At least in my childhood, cartoons enforced heroism and being grander than life. Do your best, you will be rewarded with the best. Give your biggest effort, people will notice and be grateful. Turn the other cheek when someone does you wrong, be the bigger person. Work hard, so you can play hard.

Last night I felt myself at the edge of either breaking down or going on a rampage. I had to go out for a drive. You know when you think of everything and nothing at once? I did that while I drove around. Where am I going in life? Why am I not as happy as everyone says I 'should' be? Life is not bad. No. Not at all. I'm very aware I have many things others wish they had. I suppose it is human nature to sort of never appreciate what one has. But...life. How predictable. How random. So, I get home from my drive and I feel like a zombie. I'm thinking about everyone at once. Missing everyone from my dead grandma (it's gonna be 14 yrs this year) to people I've never met...to people I see every day. How can one be surrounded and feel alone? How can one talk so much yet feel it was just empty words, no communication?

I lit a jar candle, black cherry scent, in my tiny restroom...the light bounced the white walls and for a second it reminded me of the days after a hurricane in Puerto Rico. The evening would be hot, sweaty...everything done by candlelight and in absence of t.v. or radios blasting in the background. Something peaceful came over me, everything moved in slow motion almost. I undressed in the dark, just looking at the flame of the candle dancing as the air displaced by my movements hit it. It flickered, threatened to die down...then settled into a straight flame. I avoided looking at myself in the mirror in the orange light...and slid in the shower.

The cold water hit me, the silence filling me and I found my mood changing from nostalgia and melancholy to acceptance. I felt the cold water run through my hair, washing away the filth of a long day, washing away the crap at work I put with, washing away the heaviness on my shoulders and a few names off my brain. The scent of my TeaTree and Coconut shampoo floated in the air, followed by my passion fruit conditioner. As I ran my fingers through my hair, there was more on my hand than on my head it seems. My hair keeps falling out...but I didn't let it scare me. I kept taking my 'get-rid-of-evil' bath. Eventually I decided I was squeaky clean enough and after thoroughly drying myself, this time I faced the bathroom mirror. Somehow more confident, or slightly dead inside, same thing. I made myself look at my body. This was the body of a 25 year old diabetic, always chunky, too white to look puerto rican Yari. I studied the freckles on my cheeks....and on my chest. I turned around and looked at my thighs, far from beautiful. I keep losing weight, yet I'm not dieting...not good. I'm getting sicker. I wiggled my toes and they felt numb. When am I accepting I have a serious illness? I combed my hair in an almost robotic manner. I looked beautiful and sad in the candlelight.

I slid on an oversized football jersey and some boyshorts, a black pair of socks. I wasn't a Victoria's Secret model with the sexy lingerie, but I made my undies look good. I made my jersey look spectacular. My hair, wet and disheveled, falling on my face, made me look like a tease. I'm not a porn star, but I am Yari. I felt sexy. I wasn't thinking of those who didn't want me in the past. As I stood in the kitchen at 3 am making lunch for the next day, in my gigantic jersey with no pants on, leaning slightly on the counter I sort of saw myself from other eyes. This girl...this girl. Look at her. Smell her. She smells of island and fruits, her hair is tangled and seductive, her latin curves hidden under this jersey! She likes sports! She takes care of her loved ones! She works hard, and parties harder...but never in a tasteless manner. She's plays guitar and loves loud fast music...she writes...she learns...she loves.

I felt beautiful. I felt clean...and then the AC froze in the bedroom and I sweat my tits off all night and woke up with bed head. I should go shower again...*brings candle*

I'm in the room, its a typical Tuesday night
I'm listening to the kind of music she doesnt like
And she'll never know your story like I do

But she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts
She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers
Dreaming bout the day when you'll wake up and find
That what you're lookin for has been here the whole time
- Taylor Swift