Mirrors are "portals" to other worlds

When I was little I used to be completely obsessed with mirrors, among other things. After watching the rugrats episode “mirror-land” I started studying myself in front of the mirror. At some point I convinced myself that the person I was seeing wasn’t even really me. I remember talking to the girl who looked like me in hopes that one day she would talk back. I would make weird faces at her when I was mad, hoping that she would get mad at me and make a face back. At first this idea fascinated me. What if everyone had a "mirror self"? What if everyone’s mirror-self was someone else who just happened to look like them and coincidently went to the mirror at every instance they did? I mean that could happen, right? But the difference is they were the complete opposite of you.  I decided to call it opposite world. Later I started wondering that if that was “Opposite world” and I was the good one then that would have to make the girl in the mirror the bad one. Around this period in time my mind went wild.  Suppose she only did everything I did to mock me and when I left she laughed at me because I was completely oblivious of her future plan to kill me and take my place in the real world. Maybe mirror-land wasn’t satisfying her enough?

 Well, she had another thing coming to her because I was fully aware of her “plan” and so for the next few weeks as long as I didn’t break the mirror, I was aloud to “stalk myself”…..I was 7 ok?!I remember hiding, waiting for my “mirror me” to appear so I could jump out n call her out on her evil plan. Even once I left my Gameboy in the bathroom because, let’s be frank, no one can resist playing with a Gameboy. I left it right there on the counter in front of the mirror, in hopes I’d catch her playing with it. However she was always one step ahead of me, and to my knowledge my Gameboy remained untouched.

Around some time it occurred to me that if my evil twin could get to me in the real world the perhaps I could get to her too. So I started “feeling” on the mirror, truly believing that at any instant my hand would go over to the other side, almost like a portal. A first I thought I didn’t believe in it enough and then I thought maybe there was something I had to say, like a spell to get to the other side. But I never got there.

 This theory lasted about a year and although I did stop stalking myself and went back to my normal kid life I still would always give my mirror image “the look”. The kind of look parents give their children saying I know what you’re up to and you better stop it right now or else you’re in big trouble mister! Even today I do that every once in a while. But I’m starting to think maybe she’s not so evil anymore. J

Do you ever feel the desire to get up on the  roof on the highest building you can find and just stand there and scream? Scream so loud that children will clutch their parents, animals will cower indoors, scientists won't even assume its a human noise their hearing? I do. I've been filled with so many difficult emotions for so long it feels like Im about to explode. 

Instead of looking for the beauty in the world I can only see the darkness of it all, the superficial and selfish qualities a good percentage of people possess. The cloudy days where the sun refuses to come out making the trees look dead as if they too have given up hope. I want to look around and see the beauty again. See all the possibilities and dreams I thought were possible when I was a child. See the joy and love we all had for each other. 

 Remember the days before texting and facebook obsessions began? When you actually had to have face to face conversations? When you were nervous to say "I love you" because one look on the persons face could tell if that person truly loved you back? Now, its all just "ily" and "lol". I cant even remember the last time I've had a true conversation with someone that wasn't through texting. 

 Maybe its just NYC, who knows. I've never been much of a city person anyhow, But I can no longer find any beauty here. I feel like im drowning, surrounded by too many people who seem like mechanical robots. Everytime im waiting for a train or an elevator now it seems like all i see is people with their heads down burried into their cell phones; barely even present with reality and more interested in a virtual world thats not even real. This is the downside to technology. 

When you're on your death bed do you think you will contemplate about all the times you've logged on facebook?, liked a status? Or will your family and real friends be more important?...

I think now would be the perfect time for a road trip; just a few days to clear my mind, get everything back in perspective and find what i really want out of life. If only life were that easy that one could just get up and go. But its not so ill settle for posting my thoughts and feelings on here :).

Just a Dreamer?

Sometimes I guess I dream to much. Daydream really. This goes beyond sitting bored in class and doodling in my notebook. I daydream even when I’m not bored. My mom thinks it’s bad, she use to encourage it but now it’s just annoying. I think about the craziest things, things that other teenagers probably don’t think about, or might have grown out of by now. I feel so alone sometimes. Sometimes I like it, other times I don’t. Sometimes I still feel like a kid. You know that feeling you use to have, where you tried to turn everything into an adventure? The world was exciting and new.Your crazy thoughts were more than just thoughts? Aliens and witches and monsters existed! I love those thoughts; that monsters still exist. I can never tell anyone though because they wouldn't understand. I tried telling my ex-boyfriend once about my theory how people from the future take trips back into the past and perhaps we've possibly walked into one and had a chat for a while. He thought that was completely bonkers. So instead I just keep my thoughts to myself. Safe in the world in my mind. Real life could never measure up to my imagination.

I don’t know how to change. Sometimes I don’t want to but I feel like I must. I feel like I should be normal, obsessed with boys and makeup and shopping for shoes. Shopping for shoes has probably got to be the most boringest thing in the world to me but its supposed to be one of the greatest pastimes for females. 

People think I’m weird and I do too when I can’t relate to other teen issues. I feel like if I don’t change I’ll be heading for the loony bin in a few years. I know I can’t be crazy though, I know the difference between reality and fantasy. But it just so happens I like fantasy better. And that’s not to say I like dragons and witches and fairies more than real life. I daydream about almost everything and that includes things in my real life I want to change. I’ll think back on past experiences and obsess on how I could have said something or did something different to change the outcome. But sometimes when I get tired of the sadness of my real life I will escape into my fantasy world. My world where everything is almost perfect and strange, the way I like it. 

If I'm reading a book or watching a  movie that really catches my interest even in my mind ill live in their world for a few days. Ill make up more scenarios or become a character I really admire. I imagine the craziest things like what it would feel like to live underwater, or be the only person left in the world. Those thoughts are my favorite. The what ifs.

Im writing this because I feel so alone. I’m in college and a good student  and I don’t feel immature. But sometimes it seems like I am because of my interests. I try to turn my thoughts into a positive outlet by writing stories for kids and I hope to someday write a children's book. That way ill have someone who enjoys my stories. But I guess im just writing this because I've been holding it in for so long and finally need to release. I don’t think being a dreamer is a bad thing. I think it makes me special and I think anyone else who does it is special too. I just wish more people understood me instead of labeling me as weird.

The Sun and the Moon

This story was inspired by my favorite movie Pans Labyrinth :).

Ofelia – no, Princess Moanna – looked up at the ceiling of her bedroom. Like the rest of the world she now inhabited, it held its own glow. Here, they did not need sunlight. She was still adjusting to a world without war, where people lived forever, where no-one ever got sick, where believing in faeries was a sign of sanity.

She loved this kingdom. Her kingdom.

Life was not worry-free, she had responsibilities. Lessons in history, magic, geography and medicine. Because one-day her father would rest and she would rule her people. As her father so often told her, she had long ago mastered kindness, but a ruler was also just, and needed the wisdom to choose between the two.

The princess didn't fight her lessons, like she had once fought the Captain's dictatorship over her life. She enjoyed them. Like all things in the underworld, they passed with the ease and sweetness of honey. What time she had outside of lessons was spent strolling through the gardens. The green of the leaves ranged from pastel to emerald, the flowers that graced almost every surface were vibrantly coloured, crimson to aqua. Every day they were different, and she treasured every one of them. At night, the smells would fill her room through open windows, though the garden was several hundred feet below, and the aromas of jasmine and roses, which would have fought for dominance in the world above, mixed and made every breath of air sweet.

With the fragrances of so many flowers invading her room, as her mother was laying her to sleep, she asked the question. "Mamma," she began, no longer afraid of being inquisitive as she had been in the world above, "who's is the room next to mine."

Her mother smiled gently at her, silver locks framing her face as her as it shone. "'To whom does the room next to mine belong.'" She corrected, before answering her daughter's question. "It is your sister's room." She sat back, awaiting the flood of questions that would follow.

"Where is she?" Ofelia, still sore at being deprived of the chance to know her brother, wished to know all she could of her sister.

"She is in the world above, where she belongs." Seeing her daughter preparing more questions in her mind, she decided to explain it all herself. "You sister is your twin, and your opposite." She raised a hand to tuck a lock of dark hair behind Ofelia's ear. "Her hair is blonde to the point that it is blinding. Her skin tan from spending her life in the sun. You were born by the moon, your sister by the sun." She caressed the pale skin of her daughter's cheek, which Ofelia had long ago learnt would not darken despite hours outside.

"Why is she there? Did she run away like me?" Ofelia pictured it in her mind's eye, the two of them distracting their guardians and running for the labyrinth.

"She belongs in the world above. You followed her there when she left." She gave another soft smile, but this one was sad, speaking of the many years she had lost her daughter. "Your sister is who she is. This world does not need sunlight, it has its own gentle glow. It has the moon." She looked to her daughter, willing her to understand. "It has you."

"And my sister?"

"The world above idoes/i need sunlight. Sunlight is strong, if not taken seriously, it burns. It is harsh and cruel, and your sister can be harsh and cruel. But she brings life to that world. If there were no world above, then we would not be a world below."

Ofelia sat for a while, thinking of all her mother had said, sorting it into the complex dynamics of a world she was just now coming to understand. Her mother patiently sat with her. And with the passage of time so different in a world without the sun or stars to call attention to the beginning of day and night, they sat together silently for ages, and barely any time at all.

"Will I ever see her again?" Ofelia queried. She recalled fleeting glimpses of the girl her mother had described in her memory, but she wished for so much more.

Her mother turned away from her, going through the rest of their routine for the night: closing the window, blowing out candles, tucking her into bed. As s left the room, she paused at the door and looked at Ofelia curled up in her bed. "Do you ever see the sun and the moon together?" She asked, before leaving the room without an answer. Ofelia looked up at her ceiling, and smiled at beautiful scene painted there.

Two little girls, so different, so similar, laughed together in the twilight. With the moon and the sun watching over them.

Some people called it suicide

Some people called it suicide;said she got tired of life and decided to drown herself in the river. They found her at the very bottom with stones in her coat pockets. Not far they also spotted a very worn book of fairy tales .They said she was a loner, she never talked, looked like she was in a world of her very own. I guess the loneliness got to her, made her want to end it all. Some people called it suicide. But what if it was just a dreamer.
What if she longed to live underwater.  Life became to ugly for her and no matter where she went  she couldn't find any beauty, just hate and fear  but anywhere deep down in the sea. What if she thought she'd be happy there? Surrounded by fish, sea turtles, starfish,  filling her lungs with water but still breathing? At this rate she was only breathing to survive, not to truly live and feel; an epitome of loneliness. So she took matters into her own hands. If her world wasn't perfect she'd leave this one make her own.
She swam deep down into the ocean, she had fear in her heart but she told herself to just let go. An unknown world rarely explored  came into her mind. Could it be that  Atlantis and mermaids really exist? She wanted to believe in them with every fiber in her being. She wanted to believe there was so much more. Her heart was beating so fast when she let go and plunged right into the water. She put stones in her pockets because she knew whatever she did or did not find she never wanted to return to the surface of the world she left. She allowed herself to open her eyes, take in the beautiful scenery, she felt this was where she belonged. She knew she never wanted to leave there. Finally her life was perfect she thought as she let out her last breath of air and inhaled water.

Monsters

There is nothing at all horrible about monsters outside your head. Monsters outside your head are the ones you see on tv from a scary movie or you read about in a book just before bed. They may be scary, but you can always kick them in the shins and run if you have to, or grab a knife from the kitchen if you have to or simply just sit down and talk to them if you have to. For who’s to say that monster isn’t just lonely and in need of a good friend? So yes, never worry about the monsters outside your head. It's monsters inside your head that you have to worry about. The could-bes or the what-ifs or the might-happens, or worse, the ones that you are ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN are standing right next to your bed up until the very instant you open your eyes and breathe a sigh of relief when you find your room empty. But even then, just because the monsters aren't there doesn't mean they're gone.

It's no good trying to tell someone about monsters inside your head. You simply have an “overactive Imagination” your mom will tell you, and then jump back on the phone telling her friends   “She’s such a creative young child.” Dad will only tell you that he is busy, so go away, except on some nights if he is in a particularly good mood, or a particularly bad mood, and then he will play the pretend game of finding all the monsters. He will go through the closet, look under the bed, and study the stuffed animals all one by one, just to show you that there are no monsters there, which isn't any help because monsters inside your head wouldn't be monsters inside your head if they were in the closet or under the bed or behind the chest of drawers or at the bottom of your stuffed animals. But if you tell dad this he will only get a stern look on his face and tell you that enough is enough, now is time for bed, and we can worry about monsters in the morning.

Then he closes the door and turns off the light and maybe he says Good night or maybe he doesn't, it doesn't matter because you close your eyes so that you don't see your room when it's dark. Seeing your room when it's dark is the worst thing you can do for monsters inside your head. The dark changes things because suddenly the chair isn't a chair, and the door isn't a door, and your stuff animals on your dresser aren’t stuffed animals anymore And all the normal things that  wouldn't make any sense to be afraid of during the day smudge into the dark and become nightmare versions of themselves.

If you have monsters-inside-your-head, all you can do is close your eyes, tight, so that they don't come open, and pull up the covers so that it looks like you're asleep, and pray that you don't have to wake up in the middle of the night to pee. And then, maybe, just maybe, the monsters inside your head won't come out...