|
|
|
|
|
| Me, Myself, and My Voice Posted by: Driana Le Souris at 01-22-2017 19:10 PM, Last Modified 03-04-2017 18:27 PM |
What's My Name, Bitch? 1/22/2017
I like flaws. They make everyone interesting! Kind of like me. I'm Driana, yes online name, to keep it a little separate from how personal my blog is about to get. I am full of flaws with zero perfection.
Zero.
Zip.
Zap.
Nada.
However! I'm the type of person that is pretty straight forward. I don't like making friends easy. Why? Cause everyone is fake! Duh. Easy to pretend to be something you aren't. I mean, its 2017. I don't have time for fake friends. I don't have time for the drama. Everyone loves drama when the drama doesn't belong to them. So pass that popcorn.
Judge who you want in the end its a person's choice. When I don't like a person it usually varies from something that effects me in some form or I just don't like the mentality. Whether you had history with my friend or my man, or whatever! It effects me. Yeah, you a threat and if you a drama bitch get the fuck out. Pretty fucking simple. It's okay though, cause Girl! I got this. That's how I am. I get it seems kinda petty and not chill but it isn't high school.
Again, I'm Driana and It's a pleasure to meet you.
|
My Experience To Why I Don't Like Music!? 1/22/2017
I'm honestly not the biggest person to live strongly for music. Typical? Yeah I suppose there are times where I just need to listen to music to hear their pain. It isn't anything like crazy its more of a connection.
I grew up in a home where my parents were basically non existent. Literally. The main thing I remember the most for the longest time were the number of babysitters that I saw day in and day out. There would literally be times I wouldn't see my Dad or my Mom for days that it felt like we were being abandoned. I remember when my parents threw a particular party here in this little four apartment duplex, two bedrooms each, that it was about to get down. The food that was always cooked, the setting up, and the cleaning. It was a chore.... A massive chore. I hated, HATED, it.
The only thing I really enjoyed was the way my mom would get all dressed up and my dad always looking so professional but would wear a collared shirt that gave him that easy laid back jawline. People at these parties would always encourage my dad to dance with my mom and with my moms little sideways smirk and smile she would give in. It wasn't like Morticia and Gomez Adams, but it was damn near it! This cumbia music would like play. In which Ill link down below Even now listening to it I get the chills and easily picture them at this precise party and the way they danced always made me jealous. I wanted to move like that. Be Suave like they were. That never happened for me. I was always settling for a lot less. Less in being on the sidelines, background and invisible. It became home for me.
There was a time when my parents made it very much possible for us to understand the importance of learning how to make money. That was my Father's thing. We had a Limousine Business, A DJ Business, A table/chairs rental with the linen, even having catering. Typical for a Hispanic family. All these things were time managing. As a kid you're supposed to enjoy your weekends, stay up late or get up really early with your bowl of cereal to watch them Saturday morning cartoons! That was supposed to be something we could enjoy but, not me. I was the oldest and my times were limited because it was my job to learn the traits. It was my job to help my Dad get everything ready. It was always, "Don't just stand there" Or "Move your hands" type of situation. Being the oldest honestly sucked.
I remember living in our first 'family' home when I was in middle school. I had at this point in my life just entered the seventh grade. My parents had moved us from one side of the city to the other. Welcome to Denver. I hated going to school. I hated being at home. There was no balance but this had become a growing thing for my parents business on my Dad's side. It wasn't just on the weekends anymore. It was on a Monday or a Wednesday on top of the weekends. Loading up this big black van that honestly reminded me of the shuttles back in the day but the fancy ones; not the I'm gonna kidnap a kid kinda thing. I was in charge of helping set up each table with six chairs around it. The types of tables were round like you see at most parties. Six chairs with a white linen and this silky ribbon that you have to make all cute with a big ol' bow on the back. Yeahhh.. that was us. Dad would leave my brother and I to handle that while he and my uncle would set up the DJ booth.
The importance of making those cables not so cluster fucked and out of sight was big. Not to mention how well that bass would sound in whatever location we would be in. It had to sound hella good. Not some ghetto ass shit. Times like those often I saw the pride they carried in their business. Fine. I'm still a mutha fucking kid.
When we started becoming known at these parties getting hired for several events. We were with the 'DJ' or the work service crew. People would give me often bad looks for the way we dressed because we were there to work. We weren't there to have a good time and laugh or eat. Given.. that the people who hired us would get us drinks or food or whatever. We were there to work. Having to be behind the scenes and listening to the constant blaring of music while having to stay invisible, do homework or baby sit your younger siblings. It.. it isn't fun at all!
This reality I was living in was my nightmare. I started hating music. I couldn't stand anything about it. I couldn't enjoy those moments even when it was a party within the family or for the family. Whatever the occasion.. music.. music became a noise. A burden for me. It sucks because now I can only connect with music when I am hurting or upset. Sometimes just listening to music to drown out the sounds around me. It isn't an escape any more.. its something I can connect to enough to feel not so dead inside.
To be able to remember a memory like the way my parents danced. To connect with the pain of an artists words because of the situation I am in. Finding an answer within the beat or the lyrics to make everything momentarily okay. Music isn't something I can connect to strongly. I don't live for music. I live for an answer.
When people ask me for my reason as to why I don't like music..now you know.
Currently I thought I would share this piece with a small quote:
****PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS DOES NOT PROMOTE SUICIDE. IF YOU FEEL UPSET OR IN NEED OF HELP. PLEASE CONTACT THE SUICIDE HOTLINE FOR HELP.****
"I know we are never alone.. but the demons I battle.. have won this round.. One slice feed them for now.."
"Only Time"
Who can say where the road goes?
Where the day flows?
Only time
And who can say if your love grows
As your heart chose?
Only time
Who can say why your heart sighs
As your love flies?
Only time
And who can say why your heart cries
When your love lies?
Only time
Who can say when the roads meet
That love might be in your heart?
And who can say when the day sleeps
If the night keeps all your heart,
Night keeps all your heart?
Who can say if your love grows
As your heart chose?
Only time
And who can say where the road goes?
Where the day flows?
Only time
Who knows? Only time...."
Lyrics/Music: Only Time by Enya"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=72XGFVjBPnw">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=72XGFVjBPnw">www.youtube.com/watch?v=72XGFVjBPnw">www.youtube.com/watch?v=72XGFVjBPnw">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=72XGFVjBPnw">www.youtube.com/watch?v=72XGFVjBPnw">www.youtube.com/watch?v=72XGFVjBPnw">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=72XGFVjBPnw">www.youtube.com/watch?v=72XGFVjBPnw">www.youtube.com/watch?v=72XGFVjBPnw">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=72XGFVjBPnw
Whatever your connection is with music, comment below and share it with me! <3
|
My Guilty Pleasure 2/22/2017
- Listening and smelling the petrichor in the air, rather it's standing outside or laying in bed.
- Being able to enjoy the peaceful silences in the early dark morning. Silence is the hardest things to find in my home, but when it comes.. its a moment I can cry because, silence speaks the loudest.
- Taking a new book, any book, having raised it up to my nose and smell those pages. It is a sensation of feeling complete.
- Dark chocolate is one of the rarest treats I enjoy. I'd have to say peach rings or swirling gummy bears and chocolate covered raisins. I cannot stand much of sweet treats but one of the best ways to get on my good side.
- A dirty chai. Double or triple shots. Iced.
- Reading someone else's words and connecting to them. I really find this as more than a writer but a need for a mental release. A reason to be happy. Something I find rare in some people. It's the littlest thngs that fill the void. Especially when its with someone you fell in love with.
- Mix Matched Socks! Not any type of weird belief.. just oddly enough something I find pleasure in. It's... balancing.
- Quotes; one of the biggest ways I can connect and ease when I can't find the words myself to express. It is a large guilty pleasure.. finding the words that will just take away the ache. To find a way to smile. Smiling is one of the biggest flaws that makes me perfect.
I will keep adding random ones as time goes on! Tell me about your guilty pleasures.
|
Relationship Advice. 3/4/2017
I learned that the biggest things in a working relationship is communication. It's one of the biggest most troubling thing that can be a good or bad thing, but at the most it balances itself out.
For those long distant relationships I found it easier to create a journal between me and my Significant Other for when the moments were to difficult to talk.. or when It was just the hour difference. Creating this journal we were able to write it out and put thought into our words and leave it there for the other to read. Or we would sit there writing back and forth to each other to speak.. It was for some time.. a great feature. Eventually our relationship at the time had us work better on our communication and be able to move forward without problem..
Here's some tips that might help you guys out.
Start with a qoute: Let’s not forget it’s you and me VS. the problem. NOT you VS. me. -Steve Maraboli.
This next part.. are some rules and options in which you can help each other give reason to write. Leaving a cute little love note or venting it out. Just.. something to help out a reason.
Open when:
-
Open Now.
-
Bad Day.
-
Feeling Down.
-
Need a Smile.
-
Need Encouragement.
-
You’re mad at me. Mad at you.
-
Stressed out.
Good luck!
...... |
Comments:
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
