A heartfelt thanks, but I don't think I belong anywhere. I need to find it within myself, to once and for all, sink or swim. And believe me, I promise to try. It's just that I feel like this version of me, makes it hard for people to understand and or like me. I cover up my pain with humor and whatnot, but in the end, I probs come off as strange. I'll be alright. Take care all, but what the hell, I'll share one more of my writings with you, titled . . .
"Dreams and Destiny Unfulfilled"
by Moon9
One of the most interesting places my family and I have visited is Santa Cruz, California. Actually, it's been quite a long while since the days, my childhood days, when we'd wake up very early morning on a Saturday, pack up the van, and head down to the pacific coast, a three hour drive to Santa Cruz to stay overnight or, at least, the whole day, returning late afternoon. I'd have to say that the funnest times were definitely those overnight stays. Though the drive there, particularly as we got within close proximity to Santa Cruz, my dad most often opted to drive the scenic route which consisted of winding roads, tight curves overlooking cliffsides, steep inclines, and downhills. Before we ever got to the boardwalk rides, we felt as though we'd already been on a ******* rollercoaster ride. I feel nauseated just thinking about it. You see, when it comes to long drives, specifically those in which I ride as passenger, and specially those of the steep winding road type, I have the tendency even still today to become carsick prone. So much for the pretty view, huh? I'm sure it was, but I don't remember it. I was always too preoccupied turning green in the face and puking my guts out into a brown paper bag. Even after we got there, it took me a while to shake that sick feeling.
We departed home early enough to reach our destination by seven or eight in the morning. My dad had a thing about getting an early head start, to avoid traffic or whatnot. Once there, our day started out by having breakfast at the pier at this one restaurant that my dad liked to take us to. I don't remember the name. Anyway, he knew the owners. I remember they thought my brother was so drop dead adorable with his curly brown head of hair, cute dimple smile. Actually, yeah, he was. The boardwalk amusement park didn't open until about eleven or twelve noon, so after breakfast we'd walk the length of the pier to and fro watching the people who fished off the pier, and visit the shops along the way. Sometimes mom gave us some money to buy a souvenir or two. What kind of stuff did I buy? Hmmm, let's see, a Santa Cruz shirt, shades, and for some reason, I had a thing about buying earrings with a peace sign and or ying yang symbol. I know, how eighties of me. After walking the pier, we'd still have plenty of time to kill before the park opened so we'd hop on the van and ride down to the lighthouse which is about, I'm guessing, a half or quarter mile away from the pier. From there we could see, a beach section reserved for dog owners, the dog beach. There was a bike path that ran alongside the main road overlooking the great pacific. An awesome sight, indeed. Although, I'd have to say that my favorite part about visiting the lighthouse was checking out the surfers. It was cool to watch them try to catch a wave, all the while keeping in mind that they do so while swimming amongst the shark out there.
Before I knew it, it was time to make our way to the boardwalk. My dad would gather us up and we were off for some amusement park fun. After opening, it wasn't long before the park was congested with people. Even then I felt it to be somewhat of a dizzying experience for me to be from such a small town and suddenly be walking amongst this large crowd of people. Dizzying but nonetheless exiting. Over the years I'm sure I rode the wooden rollercoaster and water log ride at least once or maybe twice but, for the most part, I don't do rollercoasters or rides that involve being elevated to high altitudes, free falling, and whatnot. No, I'm good. That once or twice experience on the rollercoaster and water log ride was enough to last me a lifetime. I prefer rides that stay relatively at ground level. And you know, as we got older my sister never seemed to outgrow or become intimidated of the more extreme rides. And my brother, aside the fact we didn't quite get along right about then, was a total mama and daddy's boy. So it's like we craved to go in different directions, so eventually there came the time that my mom gave me some money and let me go off on my own to explore the boardwalk. A time and place was set for us to meet at later that day, and then it was "see ya later". But thinking back now, I wonder if what she was really hoping is that I'd get lost or something, (lol) 'cause when I think of it, at the time, I was still relatively too young to be left to wander about the park amongst that mass of people all by my lonesome. Hmmm, I wonder. Well, the jokes on you, mom. Tough luck, you weren't gonna get rid of me that easy. (lol) Although seriously, at the time, I didn't think nothing of it. I had fun doing the boardwalk solo. I checked out the stores some, but after taking note that most of the cool stuff was beyond my budget, I ended up spending most of my time hanging out at the arcades. I think on a few occasions, after I'd run out of spending money, I'd make my way to the boardwalk overlooking the ocean and I'd just space out watching people roaming about the beach and boardwalk. Even then I remember feeling insignificant. I was old enough to care about having a boyfriend or something but not really thinking anybody would ever want me to be their girlfriend. I'd daydream that one day when I was all grown up, I'd by then, morphed into hopefully a more attractive version of me and found a partner in life and I'd have someone to hold hands with and walk on the beach and or the boardwalk, the pier, and so on.
At the end of the day, as instructed, I met up with the rest of the family. We would exit the park area and drive downtown to get a bite to eat. Our first few visits, when my sister, brother, and I were quite a bit younger, our overnight stays did not involve staying at a motel, but rather heading back to the pier to camp out in the van for the night. It's too far back in history for me to remember if we slept comfortable or not with all of us camping out in the van, but I would imagine we managed just fine, considering we had the big blue scooby doo van back then, plenty of room. Nowadays, not only do they charge to enter the pier area during day hours, but I'm sure they don't allow vehicles to camp out overnight.
There's a lot of memories that over the years I haven't since then thought about until now. This is one of those memories. Lately it seems like in order to get by, I live day to day, as if I had no past, and feeling uncertain about my future. My past, I think I try to forget and numb it out, because overall I feel that I've made so many mistakes that I feel regretful about and or ashamed of. I haven't lived up to my true potential. And memories, such as this one, remind me of a time in my childhood when I was just beginning to have hopes and dreams about my future. I had my whole life ahead of me. Unfortunately, I've been stubborn in life, so things haven't quite worked out for me the way I dreamed and hoped as a kid. I let myself down, and as a result, I'm paying my dues. However, I don't have time to dwell in this regret. I want to let it go and salvage what life I have left. One last time I want to try to be my best at something and follow through. Todavia no me doy por vencida.
Note:
I labeled this a (work) "assignmen"t rather than in the category of random personal "writings" becasue it did in fact start out as an assignment off the Summer Bridge workbook. I guess the end result was more a combination of both. Although, the original assignment was to write merely a one paragraph personal narrative about a trip or journey I had taken, suggesting that I could possibly write about one of the most interesting places my family and I have traveled to or whatnot. That was my mission. However, much to my surprise, once I started writing, I just kept on. I got caught up in this recollection of my childhood past. I felt it necessary and in my best interest to let myself dwell in it for a moment.
"Dreams and Destiny Unfulfilled"
by Moon9
One of the most interesting places my family and I have visited is Santa Cruz, California. Actually, it's been quite a long while since the days, my childhood days, when we'd wake up very early morning on a Saturday, pack up the van, and head down to the pacific coast, a three hour drive to Santa Cruz to stay overnight or, at least, the whole day, returning late afternoon. I'd have to say that the funnest times were definitely those overnight stays. Though the drive there, particularly as we got within close proximity to Santa Cruz, my dad most often opted to drive the scenic route which consisted of winding roads, tight curves overlooking cliffsides, steep inclines, and downhills. Before we ever got to the boardwalk rides, we felt as though we'd already been on a ******* rollercoaster ride. I feel nauseated just thinking about it. You see, when it comes to long drives, specifically those in which I ride as passenger, and specially those of the steep winding road type, I have the tendency even still today to become carsick prone. So much for the pretty view, huh? I'm sure it was, but I don't remember it. I was always too preoccupied turning green in the face and puking my guts out into a brown paper bag. Even after we got there, it took me a while to shake that sick feeling.
We departed home early enough to reach our destination by seven or eight in the morning. My dad had a thing about getting an early head start, to avoid traffic or whatnot. Once there, our day started out by having breakfast at the pier at this one restaurant that my dad liked to take us to. I don't remember the name. Anyway, he knew the owners. I remember they thought my brother was so drop dead adorable with his curly brown head of hair, cute dimple smile. Actually, yeah, he was. The boardwalk amusement park didn't open until about eleven or twelve noon, so after breakfast we'd walk the length of the pier to and fro watching the people who fished off the pier, and visit the shops along the way. Sometimes mom gave us some money to buy a souvenir or two. What kind of stuff did I buy? Hmmm, let's see, a Santa Cruz shirt, shades, and for some reason, I had a thing about buying earrings with a peace sign and or ying yang symbol. I know, how eighties of me. After walking the pier, we'd still have plenty of time to kill before the park opened so we'd hop on the van and ride down to the lighthouse which is about, I'm guessing, a half or quarter mile away from the pier. From there we could see, a beach section reserved for dog owners, the dog beach. There was a bike path that ran alongside the main road overlooking the great pacific. An awesome sight, indeed. Although, I'd have to say that my favorite part about visiting the lighthouse was checking out the surfers. It was cool to watch them try to catch a wave, all the while keeping in mind that they do so while swimming amongst the shark out there.
Before I knew it, it was time to make our way to the boardwalk. My dad would gather us up and we were off for some amusement park fun. After opening, it wasn't long before the park was congested with people. Even then I felt it to be somewhat of a dizzying experience for me to be from such a small town and suddenly be walking amongst this large crowd of people. Dizzying but nonetheless exiting. Over the years I'm sure I rode the wooden rollercoaster and water log ride at least once or maybe twice but, for the most part, I don't do rollercoasters or rides that involve being elevated to high altitudes, free falling, and whatnot. No, I'm good. That once or twice experience on the rollercoaster and water log ride was enough to last me a lifetime. I prefer rides that stay relatively at ground level. And you know, as we got older my sister never seemed to outgrow or become intimidated of the more extreme rides. And my brother, aside the fact we didn't quite get along right about then, was a total mama and daddy's boy. So it's like we craved to go in different directions, so eventually there came the time that my mom gave me some money and let me go off on my own to explore the boardwalk. A time and place was set for us to meet at later that day, and then it was "see ya later". But thinking back now, I wonder if what she was really hoping is that I'd get lost or something, (lol) 'cause when I think of it, at the time, I was still relatively too young to be left to wander about the park amongst that mass of people all by my lonesome. Hmmm, I wonder. Well, the jokes on you, mom. Tough luck, you weren't gonna get rid of me that easy. (lol) Although seriously, at the time, I didn't think nothing of it. I had fun doing the boardwalk solo. I checked out the stores some, but after taking note that most of the cool stuff was beyond my budget, I ended up spending most of my time hanging out at the arcades. I think on a few occasions, after I'd run out of spending money, I'd make my way to the boardwalk overlooking the ocean and I'd just space out watching people roaming about the beach and boardwalk. Even then I remember feeling insignificant. I was old enough to care about having a boyfriend or something but not really thinking anybody would ever want me to be their girlfriend. I'd daydream that one day when I was all grown up, I'd by then, morphed into hopefully a more attractive version of me and found a partner in life and I'd have someone to hold hands with and walk on the beach and or the boardwalk, the pier, and so on.
At the end of the day, as instructed, I met up with the rest of the family. We would exit the park area and drive downtown to get a bite to eat. Our first few visits, when my sister, brother, and I were quite a bit younger, our overnight stays did not involve staying at a motel, but rather heading back to the pier to camp out in the van for the night. It's too far back in history for me to remember if we slept comfortable or not with all of us camping out in the van, but I would imagine we managed just fine, considering we had the big blue scooby doo van back then, plenty of room. Nowadays, not only do they charge to enter the pier area during day hours, but I'm sure they don't allow vehicles to camp out overnight.
There's a lot of memories that over the years I haven't since then thought about until now. This is one of those memories. Lately it seems like in order to get by, I live day to day, as if I had no past, and feeling uncertain about my future. My past, I think I try to forget and numb it out, because overall I feel that I've made so many mistakes that I feel regretful about and or ashamed of. I haven't lived up to my true potential. And memories, such as this one, remind me of a time in my childhood when I was just beginning to have hopes and dreams about my future. I had my whole life ahead of me. Unfortunately, I've been stubborn in life, so things haven't quite worked out for me the way I dreamed and hoped as a kid. I let myself down, and as a result, I'm paying my dues. However, I don't have time to dwell in this regret. I want to let it go and salvage what life I have left. One last time I want to try to be my best at something and follow through. Todavia no me doy por vencida.
Note:
I labeled this a (work) "assignmen"t rather than in the category of random personal "writings" becasue it did in fact start out as an assignment off the Summer Bridge workbook. I guess the end result was more a combination of both. Although, the original assignment was to write merely a one paragraph personal narrative about a trip or journey I had taken, suggesting that I could possibly write about one of the most interesting places my family and I have traveled to or whatnot. That was my mission. However, much to my surprise, once I started writing, I just kept on. I got caught up in this recollection of my childhood past. I felt it necessary and in my best interest to let myself dwell in it for a moment.
