“I’m not in the mood for any of your shit.”
This is what I told the stranger when she asked me whether the world was going to end today.
On this bright and sunny day filled with the smell of ocean salts and freshly cut grass.
This day where the clouds move slowly pass the swaying palm trees with the wakes of the warm Caribbean water staying calm.
“It might be, but who am I to play God? We could all be dreaming.”
She then asked, “Well, who’s dream are you living, anyway?”
I told her, “My own…”
Where I make selfish decisions in life because of my lack of real trust in others.
Where my self-honesty got me in trouble with everyone and changed my life.
Where I had my heart broken because I wanted to get right, so I could be selfless for my family, my friends, and my future’s guiding light.
“Sorry, it took me awhile to figure this out.”
When I stopped looking at barriers and started opening doors, and breaking down the walls I put up.
Finding out the things I love the most make me who I am…
My fascination with wooden sticks and round leather covered baseballs.
Drawing ugly pictures because somewhere deep inside I believe I have talent and it fucking makes me feel good.
Taking photos of inanimate objects because it reminds me of my childhood…
Family walks in European black forests,
Voltron pocket tapes,
Saturday morning Technicolor cartoons,
Particleboard bunk beds,
Plastic big wheel races and painted traces on paper bags.
When the T.V. only had two channels to watch and I couldn’t sleep without the night light on.
Hence this dependency for always wanting to be in the sun.
But I can never stay put.
This independent mind built by years of questioning my loneliness moving from state-to-state in small armored vehicles.
Being displaced in unfamiliar accommodations,
Put into weird socially awkward situations.
Developing this self-identity that – fear is not an option,
And not believing in yourself is the worst thing you could do.
So I live to challenge these ideas,
Coming to grips with the loves I’ve lost,
Putting faith in those people I’ve ran a crossed,
Those making quick stops, or the ones taking long pauses,
The girls who give you the sick drops, or the ones who dance for lost causes.
Speaking an interstate language…
With lost hopes, hurt feelings, and confused thoughts.
“I do what I want and suffer the consequences each day.”
This life with its seemingly simple enjoyable experiences…
Taking walks on warm summer nights holding hands,
Sunday dinners with your best friends,
Seeing sunsets fall over purple mountains,
Finishing long races with the help of familiar faces,
Weekend naps on big couches,
Waking up to a smile,
Drive-In movies,
Home cooked meals,
Family BBQ’s,
Fireworks,
Your favorite song being played on the radio,
Lawn seats at baseball games,
Finding a dollar on the street,
Having those nights you won’t remember with the people you won’t forget.
So I made my way back to the desert only to leave it behind two years later.
Taking this bridge over the Atlantic forcing me further a way from the things I grew to know and love.
Transposed in this cultural setting with it’s tall buildings, bright lights, and white sands,
With no place to call home and my mind filled to keep me occupied.
Trying not to get lost in this world I have never seemed to figure out.
Breaking the rules like none of this will last,
Just wanting to do it right, to make it perfect and real.
Author: Ditto Ramirez
Photo: Focused Photographer
