Ashamed of what?

I don’t understand people sometimes, maybe it is just me. I understand everyone has something they are ashamed of, something they fear will escape them. I have recently started wondering why is one thing people hide from is their culture. In this past month I have met two people already who are just ashamed to be known as Mexican, what a shame because it is such a rich historic culture, sourrounded by art and music and architecture. I suppose it all comes down to what the world we live in has classified us. That stereo type we fall under, the stereo type some of us fight so hard to avoid. I know I have had problems trying to fit in growing up; do I hang out with all the “American Kids” I mean I look like them, I dress like them, but I don’t feel like them, and on the other hand, I don’t look “hispanic” I didn’t really dress much, but I enjoyed my conversations with them, practicing my native language. Fitting in is hard, but everything seems easier when you just learn to accept who you are and gain the people you need around you. 

I started talking to a boy when he told me his name he made a face and said “Ugh I hate my name, it is so Mexican” and all I could say was “If you want a super Mexican name, that shit be in Aztec or Mayan”

I have never been ashamed to hide where my parents came from, where my roots are, I love embracing them, it has made me who I am.

I don’t think I have ever been more insight with myself than I was after I read the Labyrinth of Soulitude by Octavio Paz.

It is always difficult to give oneself up; few persons anywhere ever succeed in doing so, and even fewer transcend the possessive stage to know love for what it actually is: a perpetual discovery, and immersion in the waters of reality, an unending re-creation.”
Octavio Paz, The Labyrinth of Solitude and Other Writings

This is the book that really opened my eyes… A recommendation for my fellow Mexicans and people all over really.

Embrace your roots, because you always need a place to fall back to when you seem to have lost yourself in this chaos.

Ashamed of what?

The Devil’s Playmate Prt 1

    Pacing my footsteps through the woods, ashes of leaves  with brittle twigs cracking on the ground, echoing through the naked trees. My breath heavy with peril, I stop and listen, it is silent. I am in my own solitude, a simplistic hell, where the nightmares are the reality and the beast is more than just a friend, but a dark lover of past youthful dreams, and he is vividly beautiful. Luring me in deeper into the forest, where the trees were scorched and hovered with their twisted curling branches, arching and encasing the dark, with only a shadow to see. He holds his hand out, so gracefully, with lust tainted on his fingertips. I am hesitant from a far.
“Wait! Don’t leave me”
    I take a step forward and the rustle of the ground starts to fade away. He has moved only deeper and I follow, I cannot help but to follow him. The yearning to see him once more, to catch a glimpse of what temptation has to offer.   

“Find me”

I hear his voice bounce off, a playful tone because to him it was a game.
    His seductive voice finally fades and I stood there, mixed emotions racing through my blood and bones.

 “I know what you are thinking” I can feel his smile linger through those words “If you turn around now and head back, you will never know…don’t you want to know? Don’t you want to feel?”

I become disconnected with my body, my feet take their own steps and I felt his presence grow stronger. I hold my arms out in hopes he will guide me.

 “Where are you going?” He questioned as I followed the shadow.
    “Why are you doing this to me?” I asked
    “Doing what?”
    “All of this. Why are you hurting me, tempting me, seducing me”

A laughed erupted and then his footsteps picked up again, and I ran after. Silly me, a girl running after someone so forbidden, I just wanted to see him, touch his skin and feel the rush of euphoric impulse

 “And yet you still follow aimlessly girl! You follow only because you are scared”

I froze, the air grew cold, sending shrivers through my spine. He continued speaking,

“You think you have nothing left, so in desperation you follow what cannot be touched but only wanted, and forever you shall want, you will have eternal desire with no satisfaction, that is your hell”

He stands a couple feet away, just out of arms reach, and I stare into his face. He is so beautiful, it is almost unrealistic. The grey eyes contrasting with the trees, burning with anticipation, and yet he was ever so smooth, the way he stood, like a tree itself. Swaying lightly, yet maintaining the strong pose rooted into the ashes.
    Sending chills with the wind making the hairs on my arms stand, I stared at him and moved forward. He held his hands out and smiled

 “Come to me my love”
    “I am” I stumbled “I am trying”
    “Come closer, Don’t worry I won’t run away”
    “It’s a trick” I hesitated “You always play these mind games, I know you”
    “Don’t you trust me?” he frowned.

I stopped, his body leaned closer, I was only feet away from him, I could smell his cologne, it flared up my nostrils with the aroma.
    “Turn around” he calmly told me.
I trust him at my most vulnerable spot, I trust him with my back turned to the devil himself.
        “Close your eyes now” I felt my eyes close shut, and now I saw nothing, I listened to the crunch of footsteps now shuffling behind me.
    Placing his fingers firmly on my shoulders as my back faced him, I could feel his breath in my ear, slowly making its way down my neck. His hands traced my arms and rested on my hips as he pulled me in closer to him.
    “Play with me” he moved his hands “Come on Babe” he nudged me in closer.
I felt his softened lips press against my neck, each letting a small breath to escape from my mouth. Leaving marks that burned and I loved it.
As his lips pressed more fiercely, his hands rushed through my body, leaving every spot untouched. And I could feel all of him as he pressed me against his body. I wanted to turn around, I wanted to feel that burn on my lips, the impulse of the sultry hands.

I wanted him.


– M

So here is a part of a story, I randomly decided to write, I figured I would not burden you with my silly rants and actually give my readers something I find decent enough to share. Please Comment,  Critic, Follow and all that other good stuff! I will appreciate it so much!

Happy Readings 🙂

The Devil’s Playmate Prt 1

Hanging On Hopeless, Silly and Forgotten Dream.

Screen shot 2013-02-05 at 10.40.10 AM

Her cheeks pink, resting on the pillow.

With his lips resting on her neck,

his soft breaths leaving a sense of humidity.

It tickled the hairs on her back.

A long sigh.

Messy hair,

scratches of good sex.

makeup smeared under her eyes.

He held her, cradling her into his arms.

“You are so pretty”

Her lips kissed the top of his forehead.

She felt his grip tighten, and his head fell back

into place.

He closed his eyes, and she shut hers.

How she wished,

that could be them,


The silly hope, that the dream,

that once was,

was not dead,

simply buried.

Although perhaps she

was just a




Hanging onto a hopeless dream,

never to be.

To fall back to what was left

when there is a monster in the same bed,

and he is making his way back in slowly.

It is her fault, because she is letting, so willing,

So giving.

So she plays it safe,

“Don’t let him take anymore, you already gave too much, you already gave in”

So she keeps hanging onto her



and forgotten dream.

Always just hoping.

Happy Readings!!

Comment/Follow/ LIKE.

By: Marz

Hanging On Hopeless, Silly and Forgotten Dream.


She stares blankly at her screen.
Tilts head to the right to glance outside.
Crickets chirpping away at the night.
Time passing by
Doesn’t matter its passing by.
A state in which the mind cannot think.
What is she doing wrong?
Is she even doing anything right?
Spit talk.
Spit write
Write write write write.
It is all.
Just thinking you know?
When you think and you write what you think
love you.
Te amo
The fan spinning round and round
An on going movement never to stop
Only to stop until it is controlled
Typing typing
All actions
Eyes heavy
They feel heavy
A sign of sleep, to sleep and just stay like that.
She stares at her screen



Nothing was said
Nothing was written
Nothing important.


Friendship (old thing I wrote YEARS ago)


What’s that word?

Was it friendship?

It caught is in the mind

and in time we just knew

that you were mine.

But it’s gone now,

and just a sad song now.

Words just written

but there is just so much missing.

Because we said we’ll be there

through the times

play the games and walk the shame.

we’ll pay the crimes.

Late night talks

passing notes

this friendship of ours?

it wasn’t a joke.

but we’ll smile through the crowd



but it’s all gone now

and just a song now.

because our friendship,

was just a word,

but never something that will be heard.

Happy readings everyone 🙂

– Marz

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Love and peace.

Friendship (old thing I wrote YEARS ago)