Bacalao (work in progress please excuse) this is just somewhere to put it.

A short story, that some 20 year old somethings may relate, or not. Its based on my theories if you care.

Bacalao

This is not something that I say often but, I like who I am, and have for many years. I realize this may seem quite like a secret, but its just one of the many. I realize I'm a bit different from the average of my age and stage in life, but I appreciate that even more. Sunday is for church, weekdays are for school, weekends are for hikes, bikes, runs and occasionally wine and good food. Recently I went out with friends and to make small talk, which I despise, after some guy gave me a drink, I asked what his major was. As if I could care less, the girl I was with said, "rule number 1, never ask a guy what his major is."

I'm calm by nature but something in me just wanted to yell to jump inside or outside my skin. I hadn't become one of those. Those who stamp a brand on themselves, a type, a look, or a living style. That in order to win some guy over they have to ask X Y and Z, and if you play your cards right it just might happen in your favor. Well I don't play cards and I don't ask X, Y or Z and in knowing that comes a great amount of self-respect and dignity that I hope I never lose.


I cannot tolerate anymore that people put their insecurities upon me and use me as their puppet, to mold. I was ignorant and naiive, and blinded to the fact that its me that I like and others that I don't. And that may sound harsh, but after being trampled over for years I understand the severity of words. I'm so fierce in my own shoes, that they themselves are falling apart. Maybe the way I dress in flowing patterned tops and dark denim and flat shoes may signal something to those around me, but I couldn't love it more. I never feel better than when I'm wearing an old jacket, a knitted hat, a bike from the 70s, and a Nikon strapped to my shoulder.

There is a Spanish saying that goes like this, "te conozco bacalao, aunque vengas disfrazado," my teacher from Cuba taught it to us, and even though it rolls off the tongue, if said to you personally it may just stab you in the heart.

It is a strange thing to need to be near people at all costs, surrounded by comfort and the things you are familiar with and know. It is also astonishingly difficult to not feel empty around all these people as well. Its an imbalance that for me never feels quite leveled.

In some great deep void I am feeling in the winter days in the beginning of a new page some internal tick, a heart valve or murmur or a brain synapse something inside of my subconsious is moving me to knew observances I've not yet made before. Making me even more satisfied with my personal decisions, and less satisfied for living for those around me. My mother once said you have to be first name last name, no matter where or who you are near.