Carasmatik

My BFF.

This is my niece, Sophia. She’s 4 years old and I feel like she understands me more than anyone else. We draw together, watch movies, talk, play with her dolls, have dance parties… she brings out my inner child. I never feel like I can’t be myself with her. She calls me Tia and every time I see her, she says, “Tia! You’re my BFF.” I know she’ll always be there for me and though she might not always understand what I’m going through, she’ll always be there to make me feel better. She is the sweetest little girl in the world.

Balloon Girl - Banksy

Occupy D.C.

Image via Wikipedia

Although I like to consider myself a person who would stand up for what I believe in, I’ve never been one to attend protests. I hold a great admiration for those who attend and stand tall against those who oppose them (there are always people that will do so). As sorry as I am to admit it, I haven’t been involved with Occupy D.C. I’ve heard a lot about it of course, and even seen some of the action take place. I think it’s pretty amazing that so many people from all over the city have come together to fight for what they all believe in so strongly. Really, everyone in a way has become a large extended family all standing as one. This whole ordeal with Occupy Wall Street has different communities in different states fighting for what they want and this helps everyone stand on similar territory no matter how far apart they may be from one another. It’s helped people find their voice and use it against what they consider to be unjust and together, try and change the world (one step at a time).

Many times when I think about Occupy D.C… Well, actually, Occupy Wall Street in general, I find myself praying for the people’s safety. I know that protests can easily get out of hand due to violence. I hope that everyone can try to keep the peace, including the police. I feel that the protesters have every right to fight for what they’re entitled to. No one can take that freedom away from them. If police show brutality towards them for expressing their right to protest, then what kind of world are we living in? That’s ridiculous.

I’m also praying for these protesters to come out victorious after all their efforts and stay warm this winter. These are brave people coming together to fight for their rights as human beings to express what they feel they deserve. Power to the people!

Biggest Fears

Sometimes, I feel that I’m afraid of everything, or I might as well be. Sometimes I am so overcome with fear that I find it getting in my own way, creating a road block between me and where I need to go. In reality, I find myself letting fear overcome me because being afraid is a lot easier than being brave.

Ironically, two of my biggest fears are the exact opposite of one another.

The first is that I’m afraid of truly being seen. No, not seen like standing before a crowded room, but more the seen where someone(s) sees past my exteriors into the person that I truly am. This might seem silly, but sometimes I strive so hard to achieve an unobtainable perfection that I sometimes allow that to consume me, and in a way, destroy me little by little. The real me knows that I am not perfect (far from it in fact). The not so real me pretends that I can someday, somehow, truly be perfect. Pretty sick, huh? Sometimes, I’m afraid that someone will see me pretending and call me on it.

The second fear is that I’m afraid of being invisible. How can one say they’re afraid of being seen and then turn right around and say they’re afraid of being invisible? Well, here’s how I look at it. I’m afraid of the real me being seen, but I’m afraid that somehow I’ll remain completely unseen and eventually disappear. Weird? Yes. I don’t know if that makes any sense at all, and honestly, I don’t know if it makes much sense to me either. All I know is that’s how I feel… and it’s confusing as hell.

Probably my largest fear that underlies everything else is that I’m afraid to grow up not knowing exactly who I am. I know, I know. Everyone always tells me that growing up will help me find out who I’m supposed to be… but I’m dependent on being in control and how can I be in control if I don’t know exactly who I’m in control of? How do I know which direction to send myself in or what I’m really meant to do with my self and my time?

Really, I’m scared of me. Who I am, who I could be, who I try to be. Everything. Me.

My Sanctuary.

I’d like to first take a moment to address the idea of what a sanctuary actually is. It’s a place where one can seek refuge, especially in this hectic world we live in. For me, my sanctuary is my bedroom. I’ve grown up in this room. Every part of this room has been made my own. It’s filled with everything that I’ve accumulated over the years, starting from when I was just a baby. I know everything in here. It’s something that’s familiar, when really, everywhere else that I go is full of unfamiliarity.

I’ve cried tears in this room that’s origins will never leave the safety of these four walls. I’ve shared stories and laughs with friends in here. Shared moments that I’ll never forget with my boyfriend, O’thame. Decorated, and redecorated, going along with my taste at the time. I’ve put up pictures on the wall creating a large mural of my life of both my friends, and my family. Man, I’ve become me in this room. This room has seen my grow up, and honestly, no space knows me better. This room has given me shelter at my best, and at my worst.

Hello.

I’ve never been any good at introductions. How are you supposed to sum up who you are in a paragraph or so?

I’m Cara, an 18-year-old senior who attends the Duke Ellington School of the Arts in the Nation’s Capital, Washington, D.C. I’ve never lived anywhere else. I’ve always lived in the same house, surrounded by the same neighbors, and the safe familiarity of the D.C. streets that I’ve come to know like the back of my hand. This is home for me. Honestly, I can’t imagine growing up anywhere else.

I’ve attended Duke Ellington since the ninth grade and I love it. I’m in the Literary Media and Communications Department and it’s here that I’ve really discovered a passion for writing, mostly fiction. If I’d gone to any other high school, I doubt I’d have turned into the person that I find myself to be today. In a way, this school forces you to find yourself, because if you don’t know who you are here, you’ll be swallowed alive. For that, I feel I’ll always be grateful.

Now that I’m in my senior year, I’ve started looking into colleges. I don’t think it’s really hit me that by this time next year I’ll be off somewhere in a dorm, the worries of high school being far from my mind. Man, time goes by way too fast. I don’t know how exactly I feel about almost being done with high school life… it’s a combination of excitement, nervousness, and a tad bit of denial. Blah, right now I’m not quite sure how to feel. I’ve looked at some of the kids in my senior class and I’ve realized that some of of these familiar faces I may never see again… that’s way too much to be able to come to terms with right now. Crazy.

I can already tell that this year is going to pass by way to quickly… but maybe that’s a good thing. I haven’t quite decided yet.