The last time I posted here was almost a year ago.
As much as I love nature and all its beasts, I have to admit, nature has one problem: flying bugs. And this small little creature came hitting itself against the walls of my living room and now it's resting at the door frame. Problem is that I heard once black butterflies are a sign of death or old spirits coming to visit ya'. I did't believe it when I heard it, but I could never forget. Specially because where I live they are not very common.
Meanwhile, I felt like writing again.
I work now for a writing company, marketing related. And we build blogs but my own has been neglected. The only reason was that I was dry, and I didn't know what else to say. I felt like I lost all my rules, all my beliefs, I thought I'd became empty, because all the teachings would only matter to me and no one else. True; they are my secrets now. But I can 'learn-and-tell' from time to time.
For many years now I've been fighting to prove myself to the world in groups of people I would simply not fit in. Fighting, to have the right to be myself, to express myself and who I am, the way that I am, with no shame or guilt. Fighting that people would not simply look me over because I openly say I like pop things as Lady Gaga, or that I watch Gossip Girl or because I have a facebook account while they are busy being cool and enjoying the unknown.
The thing is I wasted a lot of energy in trying to be accepted where clearly I was not, when there was a whole bunch of people that I could be having fun with, and they don't judge me for what they can't understand. Acceptance is not hard, is soft, easy and sweet like a big warm jelly, it takes you in, no matter what and gives you a strawberry taste.
These people I simply feel comfortable with: I call them friends. And because they like me the way I am, they make me feel stronger by the hour. What I give in return is pure unbottled and unlabeled friendship. Drink up, friends!