Super human. This breath of life, this something, this something possessing this body of mine.

I wake up at 7:30am, lying in bed, hating the cold.

This breath of life, it’s 7:50, trudging and changing in 10 minutes.

I’m up for 8 hours working, working, sitting and thinking.

I go home and lift boxes and boxes, from memories of high school to 22.

It’s superhuman, I wash clothes, pack sales and post products by 10.

I don’t know what I am, but something must be super-human, in me. Not, me- but something possessing me.

It’s this breath of life. Oh, tomorrow. Tomorrow.

I sit again, it’s 11:28 pm.

Oh Tomorrow tomorrow.

I’ve started posting products on Ebay! 🙂

http://myworld.ebay.com/gugibabu/

Yes, I finally started this habit and have gotten totally addicted to it. My life, besides going to work on Monday to Fridays have included an online business. I have started to focus on posting all the foreign magazines I’ve purchased in Asia/Europe. Below are some of the colorful pages of the magazines- I love em! They are inspiring and fun!

CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE NOW!! BIDS ARE LIMITED TIME ONLY!

http://myworld.ebay.com/gugibabu/

1. Thread Show- Curated Indie Design & Fashion- Dec 3-5

Hippest Indie Shopping place to be.

http://threadshow.com/

2. Unique LA- December 11 & 12

http://uniquela.com/

Another hippest shopping place to be.

Happy Thanksgiving!

She’s amazing.

Woman I am

Society strives and pushes, conforming and forming

Why, woman I am.

I am foremost me, not a woman defined by the stereotypes and the expectations of society

I am a person foremost, a human being foremost, before I am what I am.

A label of restrictions, a label of conformity.

I am foremost a person, unique and precious, special and one-of-a-kind.

So why does society suppress and respect only those that are men in charge, in high places, in offices, in companies, then woman I am.

We like animals, labeled trying to live ourselves, but only at the end of the day, being reminded. of our restrictions, the society forces on those that are labeled.

Immigrants, migrants, poor, outcasts, punks, woman. It seems,

those labels need to fall, need to be ripped off our names- we have names.

This is the day, that woman I am, will change the world because I was willing and God

a reflection, me. has intervened to put power in my soul

So that, woman I am. Am not just a woman,

but me, the one created, I am. Without a noun, but a personhood.

This is the time, the day, that all will see limitations are crushed. Because I was willing and alive.

Able and broken.

I am proud to be me.

Devon with my wig. LOL.

Candyland girl

House Party.

And then of course a poem after my first day of work. Need to express and write.

You are.

You are far away, like a distant mist

A mist I want to touch, but keep chasing in no direction in no particular time

I’m a frazzled child, desiring yet holding back

I don’t know who I am really, or who I want, or who you are.

Confused, lost, but yet finding direction in the little hints, the little specks of dreams

and forgotten tales. yet you are. you still remind me.

I started climbing stairs, only finding, you swam out the waters and gave me a chocolate ball

Delighted, I smiled and laughed. you like a magical beast, dove into the ocean and became a fish

nowhere to be found. only in my dreams. you are.