Hopeless Hopeful

Ok, so let’s blog! I know I’ve waited quite a while to get down to letting yoh know what this blog is all about, but it’s because I really don’t know. It has to do with the fact that at 26 I’m still learning who I am and what I want. My four-year relationship has ended (against my will) and during the relationship who I was and what I wanted was largely defined by my significant other. This has a lot to do with how I am in all my relationships with others; I put their needs and wants before mine and I adapt myself to whatever it is they want or need. In a lot of people this would breed resentment, for me it’s comforting to not have to figure out what to do with every minute of every day on my own. I like having a shared dream and common goals, but I have also come to realise that being this way allows others to take advantage of me and then dispose of me without even a thank you. It’s about time that I be me, whoever that may be. I know at some point I had my own dreams and ambitions, so I have to find those again.

Words have always been the most important thin in my life; the first thing that truly defined me. I am the bookworm, the nerd, the know-it-all, the donors graduate, the teacher’s pet, etc. I love knowledge and I love literature. I love the shape and sound of words and how they can define, change, shape, shake, and break out comprehension and approach to life and living. So this space is just a way for me to practice and share my early mature attempts at writing (I saw mature because my grandmother has boxes full of old school notebooks where I wrote stories and poems). Really, I don’t have a “voice” yet, but I want to find it and I think the only way to do that is to write and share and see how you, my readers, respond.

Now, why hopeless hopeful? Because that’s what I am or what I aspire to be even in the midst of heartbreak and depression. I am always full of hope that things will get better, as long as I hold on. Like there are hopeless romantics in the world, I am hopelessly hopeful. I never quite, unless force to by external circumstances. It helps that once I set a goal I stick to it until I’ve accomplished it and, for me, accomplishing something means excelling. Right now, even though my year has had a terrible start (the five most difficult months of my life), I still have hope that things will get better. In all honest,y I have hope that my heartbreak will produce something better. I always write when I am sad. Words can destroy and create, they can hurt and they can heal. His words hurt me, maybe my own will heal me.

You already know my age, but my background is a bit mixed and confusing. My mom is Puerto Rican and my father Cuban. I was born and raised in Miami, but moved to Puerto Rico when I was 12. At 18 I moved to Pennsylvania to study at Allegheny College, but dropped out after a year and a half. It wasn’t the snow, but the small town. I really learned to appreciate how much more there is to do in this tiny island compared to northwest Pennsylvania. Also, the creepy small town silence inspired lots of nightmares. Back in P.R. I studied Political Science in the University of Puerto Rico and graduate summa cum laude in three and a half years as well as completed the Honors Program and Thesis. Although I was accepted into a great PhD program, I decided to stay because I was hopelessly and hopefully in love with my now ex-boyfriend. So I am currently halfway through completing an MA in Comparative Literature with a focus on politics and literature and comparing American, European, and Chinese literature. I would like to say I regret the decision to stay, especially now that the main reason I did has ditched me, but in some ways I don’t. There is a great comfort in learning to adult when surrounded by friends who are also learning to adult and in a place where you know where everything is and can always have someone to fallback on. Besides, my true passion has always been literature and I want to both study and contribute tot he way literature impacts politics. There is nothing more powerful than the written word and I wish to understand how and why and what can an individual do to make a difference with it? Some scholars hope that literature can be a vehicle for liberation and political change and it some places it has been. I hope su, but for me it’s also my life’s blood.


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