RELOCATING TO WORDPRESS

So as you can see, this page has a new layout as well as domain!

Well, it didn't turn out so well. 

With my prior experience in web design I can honestly say I hate it.

The website is weak nor does it reflect my personality and art.

And yes, 

I know I relocated before to Tumblr. 

But that was an obvious mistake.

My art has been expanding in various ways as it has been my whole life. 

I've been seeing my life revolve more around my photography and travels recently and I wanted my website to reflect that.

I created an Instagram page with my photos and writings about 6 months ago and would love if you checked it out. 

Since Instagram focuses more on photos, I feel like my writings aren't as strongly advertised.

Thus, my idea of redecorating this blog and trying to make it feel like home again.

Anyways, like I said, I don't like it. 

Therefore, I moved over to WordPress. 

Long story short, I LOVE the new site.

Check it out here!!

Anyways guys, I just wanted to say it's been a fun journey and please be sure to follow my new blog!!!

 You will be treated to a lot of great photographs that I will be taking as I travel around this beautiful earth over time. 

As well as some great pieces of writing I have yet to create.

Thank you so much for everything even though you may have never been here in the first place.

In all what seems disguise,
I tread,

tread,

tread

thin waves oceans

til land and see.

-Natalia

Thanksgiving Week

To start off, I'd like to address the "I will redecorate it and make it my home again" comment I had made in my previous post.
I will be renaming the blog @writingsofnatalia and make it a place for my photographs, writings, art, and eventually music.

I hope you all enjoy what is to come of this page because right now all it does is reflect my high school mentality.
I don't want to say I have matured much since then (though that much time has not yet passed), but I do feel as if so.

The Instagram account that will be linked to this blog will be @thewritingsofnatalia which is currently my photography account as well as writing.

Until then,
I am stagnant somewhere;
deep in the Poconos of Pennsylvania.

Circumstances in my life has led me astray from the one who holds my heart and until the moment we're together again, I am lost.

Plans of where I tend to live next are in motion at the moment.

Do you have any suggestions?
Preferably in the United States
and quite affordable for a 19 year old nomad.

My heart beats for you a thousand times but skips one
to hear your voice

Keep in touch.

"I Can't Even Lie, I've Been Lonely as Fuck"

Last night I had a dream I was in some sort of public shooting. They called it, "The Michigan Shooting"; to which I responded, "But we're in Minnesota".

A song called 911/Mr. Lonely by Tyler the Creator was playing in the background as I ran from this terrorist attack.

This week I will be traveling to Georgia to visit my best friend and go to AfroPunk.

I miss writing like this. I may start again.

Please keep tabs on this page.
I will redecorate it and make it my home again.

I've been so loved lately. Though do I feel as if I am missing something?
Why can I not stay with the Tao and be content with all there is..?
But I am...
But I am also not.

I've also been tripping on LSD a lot.
My world has changed a lot recently and I'd like you to hear about it.

Thank you for having me back.

Back on Blogger but not like I used to...

So Tumblr ended up sucking immensely. It made me not want to write consecutively anymore and just made me stop writing all together. Now that I'm on the right path to prosperity, I am going to write as many books as I can after I finish whatever else I want to do. I'm really going to start skateboarding more because I recently found out that there is now a women's Street League----and I'm stoked! A girl like me obviously has to start conditioning herself to start practicing again. I just always get caught up with other cool things that it makes me set skating aside. The weathers starting to get warmer and feel more like Spring (which is now my favorite season)! When I make it to street league I'm definitely getting a huge buzz. Not even once I make it, but while I'm coming up too! Plus, skating's not the only thing I'm going to be doing obviously. I'm going to continue designing boards like I always have a while ago, keep writing, modeling as the new face of womens skateboarding or just skateboarding in general, and sing. I was thinking about starting some kind of band or duo with Adrian but that's not in my mind right now. I just need to start preparing. The reason I still haven't successfully accomplished a full out Ollie is because I literally can not jump that high. I need to build up my leg muscle if I wanna get any time of air time. I'm moving into Manhattan today and it's going to be great. I'm literally like 5 blocks away from a skate park and 20 mins away from my school. Now the reason I said I'm back on here is because I don't want people thinking that I write all the time on my Tumblr and that's where they should go to see my work---because it's not. I wrote a few stuff the first couple of days but then just slowly stopped. I'm not going to write every other day on here like I used to try to, but I know that when I actually do want to write something, I'm posting it on here. Anyways, I hope your life has been going great.

Class with the Devil -- My Final Project

Disclaimer: I am attempting to mimic the writing style of Cormac McCarthy in this short story. This is my Final Exam/Project for my Science Fiction class. The goal was to imitate McCarthy's style while staying in the Sci-Fi genre. For those who haven't read anything from him, his writing style consists of run-on sentences, lack of punctuation, and 3-4 worded sentences.

Class with the Devil 

by: Natalia Gonzalez 

When she walked into the dull and frigid and lifeless room the only movement that was felt was the pounding of her heart attempting to escape her chest. The opaque windows she faced when she walked in gave out a blueish gray aura as if it were cloudy everyday. She watched the condensed steam of her held in breath release as she sat in the uneven desk. You wouldn't think Hell would be this cold. The room was anemic and deceased. Sitting against the wall she watched human shaped shadows begin to surround and circle her like vultures awaiting the fall of their prey. They were just lost souls. Was she the only one still alive? She realized the windows were just a facade. There was no outside. It was all an endless loop. Once you leave you just walk right back in. A falling crash of thunder hit the floor so heavy the Earth could have felt it above. A jolt of anxiety rushed through the girls veins. The gate was now closed and standing afront was the last component needed to start. The Devil herself. Her dry grip tightened around one of the bars of the gate as she glowered at her disciples waiting for them to remember their roles. Immediately the vultures attention was no longer on the girl with life but on the demon that took theirs. Silence. Silence and nothing but it. Even from the girl's heart who had calmed and settled.

I shouldnt have to wait, was the first thing it spoke. It had pasty gray skin that looked like it once held a purplish tone. Death. She looked like death. Faster than the girl could remember the shadows had already fallen to their seats awaiting instruction. Pitiful. Their master walked boldly away from the gate towards the center-front to scold the class once more. She must have decided to save her breath because she didnt stop at the center and she didnt scold the class. Instead she passed to grab the list of the condemned on the table. One by one she mouthed their names in a whisper and glanced and marked their presence. The only name she called aloud was the girl who lives.

Present, said the girl.

Her body was stiff and heart was pounding. The Devil paused as if she had a heart that dropped and shivered at the sound of the being like she despised the thought of life itself. She continued through the list while the girl regained her breath. A part of this endless loop was a memory that she replayed in her mind any chance she could get.

She sat in an office surrounded by those who acclaimed authority over her. Her mother. Her father. The Principal. And the Devil. They were all gazing at the girl in confusion and mildly in disgust. The father spoke first.

So?

So, said the girl.

You know why were here.

I dont.

Well then we would be glad to tell you.

The Devil cleared her throat and spoke in a stern but childish tone.

Why is that you come into my classroom everyday and do nothing?

The girl looked around in awe as if she would to a room of clowns. She shifted her eyes back to the voice.

Because your the Devil.

And only demons work for the devil.

The only memory in which the girl ever felt victorious was interrupted as always. The class was beginning. It was the end of the semester which meant it was time for student evaluations. This is when a stage is drawn from thin air and each student individually is to step up and be stripped down of their morale and esteem. Thank you, thought the girl. Thank you that my name is last. The rest of the audience was to sit and watch their colleagues be chastised until naked and ailing. She tried to refocus her thoughts back on her Fool's Paradise but couldnt. There was fly was trying to force it's way into her ear. With aching pain and great attempt not to scream she delicately tried to flick it out with her pen. Scraping around she marked up her ears for no good reason. There wasnt a fly anymore and there wasnt any buzzing. But there was a clock. And Hell doesnt give any breaks.

Ms. Gonzalez, the Devil called aloud.

The girls eyes shifted up from the bloody pen and hands at the sound of her name. Her eyes undilated and her heart stopped. It was her turn. What ever color remained in her skin was now flushed out leaving her a ceramic doll. Her mind scattered through files searching for the knowledge to start her heart. These were the longest seconds of her existence. At the first beat of regained blood flow she stood up in the slowest fashion possible and remained standing with no movement to follow.

Do you have anything for me? asked the Devil.

The girl picked up a short stack of papers that were on her desk and lugged each of her legs towards the front of the room. A burning sensation of stares came from all around her. Blistering, tedious, Hell. Why was it taking so long for her to get there? Her legs became heavy and the girl used every bit of her strength to lift them from the floor. Almost there, she thought. Almost there. Once she reached the front of the desks she was released from the weights. It was time. She walked towards the steps of the stage and the room was quiet and her steps were loud and she said nothing. A whisper or soft chuckle cracked through the silence forming goosebumps all over the girls arms forcing her nearly invisible hairs to stand up. She stood before the steps of torment wishing for the end of infinite. Here we go, she said in low voice to herself. Trembling she took steps across the stage and stood before her audience. This is it, she thought . The girl closed her eyes. A draft of the brisk air passed through her arms and legs making notice of its presence. Not that she'd forgotten. Already stripped down from head to toe she stood in embarrassment under the dull spotlight of the windows. A light trail of smoke escaped from her mouth as she opened it to begin counting her mistakes aloud.

Number 1, began the girl.

The girl awoke wildly looking around. Her heart beating to escape and her hair covering her eyes. She pushed all that she could away from her eyes before it attempted to return back to the front. It was just another nightmare, the girl attempted to convince herself. The girls head fell back on her satin pillow with hair spread across wildly. Her heart calmed and her mind was at ease and the room fell silent and her ear dripped of blood and the girl said nothing.  

Lord of the Flies & Class with the Devil

Today I've finished reading Lord of the Flies.

I talked down on it at first saying it had a slow beginning, but it was completely worth it. While only having 3 more chapters left to read, I honestly thought I was going to finish the book thinking of it as "Okay". It wasn't until I finished reading the last line that I realized it was one of the best books I've ever read. The way William Golding made the characters come to life, the hairs on my arms stood up the night of the gruesome storm. His imagery was so clean and smooth that you read it with ease. The symbols throughout the story were so beautifully placed and were perfect representations of their meanings.
Please read this book if you haven't yet already.
The symbolism is so beautiful, way more beautiful than in The Catcher in the Rye in my opinion.
But then again I'm going to reread The Catcher in the Rye after I read The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time so then I'll decide if it really is more beautiful.
I finally figured out what I'm going to write about for my Sci-Fi Final Project/Exam: Class with the Devil
That's the title of it.
It's going to be about my last period class which is U.S government or something like that. I consider my teacher Ms. Clarke the devil because she acts like everything I would despise in someone. She has ignorant point of views, embarrasses the students in front of the entire class, is really close minded, and just sucks.
"Sucks to your ass-mar".
Man that book was great. I don't even wanna start thinking about starting my next book. I have to write my final though. That's for tomorrow.
I started watching "Adaptation" but I got tired due to my weekday sleep schedule.
It seems pretty cool so I'll probably try and watch it again later in the week.

Stay Warm.

                                                                                                                     -Natalia

Why have I been staring at a blank page for 20 minutes already?

I'm going to have to get used to staring at blank pages if I actually want to get somewhere in writing. Writers block is literally the worst thing that could happen to a writer on a daily basis. Especially because you know that you can write your ass off -- just not this second, or.. the next, or the next, or the next.

But even writing about how you can't think of what to write, is writing. I forgot what book it was that told me to never stop writing even when you literally can't think of anything else to write. Never lift your hand from that paper until your done. Write the last word you wrote, over and over again until you write about how your tired of writing that word so many times. When you start to talk nonsense about how you don't know what to write, your writer instincts jump in and handle the whole situation.

By the way, that short story for Sci-Fi I mentioned before, is a nightmare.

First off, I couldn't even figure out how to write a short story and had to look it up. The first website I checked said, "If you've never read a short story before, you're probably going to have a difficult time writing one". I found that hysterical considering the fact that I actually never have read a short story and that's probably why I'm finding this task difficult. I decided to look some up on Google and it turns out there's a whole website based on the short stories of the web. 

I ended up reading one about a guy who locked himself out of his apartment with his baby inside which was ironically in the "humor" category. Well, it wasn't that ironic since there was kind of a funny ending. But I got the gist of how to write a short story and now my only challenge was imitating Cormac McCarthy's writing style.

I really couldn't fathom how to write in his style while also not talking about being in a post apocalyptic situation until I read some samples that other students wrote. I just don't like how I have a perfect opportunity to show someone my writing skills but have to struggle to imitate someone else's.

I hope your day was as great as mine was. Today, Adrian and I went to Bedford ave. in Brooklyn where our apartment is awaiting for our arrival. We checked out the area like we usually do just to get comfortable with our soon to be neighborhood. We found a place where I can set up a small shop for my jewelry in "The Brooklyn Market" or something like that. Then we found a place that sells the supplies I need for my jewelry! Everything just worked out perfect today.

Tomorrow I have a photo shoot by Pier 61 just to build my modeling portfolio. It's an "urban skateboarder lifestyle" kind of shoot which I found to be perfect for me.

I'm going to leave off with a quote from Anne Lamott's book Bird by Bird that will have me writing for the rest of my life:

"If something inside you is real, we will probably find it interesting, and it will probably be universal"

And that's what writing is about.
Have a good night.
                                                                                                     -Natalia
                                                                                                                   

Since I haven't posted anything Mary related, here is my plant that is about 2 1/2- 3 weeks old (last picture to the bottom-right corner). I'm praying she's a female but I don't really care since she's so pretty!! I felt the need to change the name of my blog to something else since it's really just me talking about nothing "weed-niche" related. But then that would mean changing the whole URL and that would be annoying; so I decided to post Baby Plant. I keep a quartz by her to keep her growing strong. I love the way these pictures came out.
Today's going by so slow; bored, alone, just slow.
I'm listening to The XX right now and they're making this day seem even more slow. I wish it wasn't so cold outside because if it weren't, I might have went out.
I finally finished The Road last night. At some point in the end I felt as if I were about to cry but then remembered I didn't really care too much because now I can finally read my other books. My mom took me to Barnes & Noble yesterday and I finally picked up The Catcher in the Rye, Lord of the Flies, and Dear Mr. Henshaw; 3 books that were on my list. After finishing The Road last night, I decided to read Dear Mr. Henshaw since it's a short book. It wasn't as good as I thought it would be, but it was good. I started Lord of the Flies this morning but haven't brought myself back to reading it. It's not boring or anything, it just has a slow beginning for me (even though I caught myself wondering about what was going on in the "story realm").
Hopefully Adrian will come over soon so I'm not as bored and alone.
I hope your day is as beautiful as I'm imagining mine outside.

                                                                                                               -Natalia

I know I was supposed to write yesterday but honestly I was too high to remember and too sick to reach the laptop. When you get sick, it means that you have some negative energy built up somewhere causing a blockage of energy flow. So I'm just riding this one out even though I feel like shit. I recently got to watch a movie called Adult World, with Emma Roberts and Evan Peters, about a young poet trying to get published, working at an adult video store, while trying to get some recognition by her favorite poet. I don't just love this movie because Evan Peters is in it, but it is a really good movie and I suggest it immensely. My mind is still in need of a decent amount of rest so I'm keeping tonight's post short since I shouldn't be writing today anyways. I'm also still not sure if I'll post tomorrow or the day after--we'll just have to see. Last night I jotted some notes down for future writings and in my opinion, they're absolutely wonderful. My brain highlighted these phrases for me when I heard them and I just knew I had to write it down. Is that what happens to all writers? I felt as if I'm now developing writer senses that naturally highlight things that can be used in my writing. Did you know they have writer bin-aural beats? I listened to a "Natural Writer Program Your Subconscious To Become A Best Selling Novelist" one while I slept the night before last. Maybe that's what gave me this super ability.
I also need to add the fact that a really amazing thing took place yesterday and I need to share it with you: Adrian was telling me about how I'm amazing and beautiful, and how it's crazy that I don't ever see it. In the background, we were playing YouTube videos on the PS3 and when the video is over, it automatically starts playing the next one; so while he's telling me all of this, the video moves to the next one and starts playing some car karaoke segment from some kind of talk show. The band doing the bit was "One Direction", and they started singing "What Makes You Beautiful". Now I'm sure you know how the song goes but if you don't, the ending phrase that caught me was, "you don't know your beautiful", as Adrian is telling me the same exact thing.
I will not stress this enough on this blog but, there are no coincidences in the universe. I started reaching for the phone to check the time when Adrian grabbed it and turned the lock screen on:
10:10 pm. Isn't that insane!? For the universe to tell you that your beautiful personally, is incredible.
Anyways, as I'm growing to love myself unconditionally, I lay here in my bed/couch waiting for this cold to be over.
I might be a best selling novelist sooner than you and I think.
I hope your having a beautiful night.                                                                                                      
                                                                                                                -Natalia
                                                                                                                   

Today was a great day even though some things may have gone the opposite of great.
I never thought that I would feel satisfaction out of coming home after a long day, jumping on my laptop, and just writing. I literally look forward to posting every other day to the point where I want to post every day. So why don't I? I feel like my content will get boring (if it isn't already) and I'll run out of stuff to say. Two days is enough to write a whole blog post worth of content, but less than 24 hours? I don't know.
I've been thinking a lot about movies lately but I don't get to watch much of them.
If my day didn't consist of going to school, I would probably have the time to do way more than just watch movies. I'd probably be a way better writer by now and getting my first book published this week. My dad said the most wonderful thing to me over the phone yesterday which is a rare occasion. After telling him that I finished Bird by Bird on my way home from school yesterday, he asked if I was ready to start the next book I purchased which is The Curious Case of the Dog in the Night-Time.
Have you read that book yet?
Anyways, I told him I really wanted to start that book but I was just given a new book called The Road in my science fiction class and I want to get that one out of the way first before I started the other book. He told me that it was a good idea and then asked if I had started The Road yet which I should be on page 75 by now. I told him I tried but it wasn't really grabbing my attention yet.
What he said to me may not seem that great to you, but it put me and him at the same level for at least a few seconds and nothing could've made me feel better at that moment. It was something along the lines of "That's because your mind is still stuck on the other book you just finished", and he was absolutely right.
The moment I closed Bird by Bird, I wanted to turn right back to the first page and read it all over again. But I have other books to read and I know I couldn't. I did vow to reread it when I was ready to write my first novel but I'm not even close to doing that yet. My most recent project for science fiction class is to write a short story imitating Cormac McCarthy's writing style in The Road which is absolutely annoying. I'm sure it's a great book, but the lack of punctuation kills me.
How do I know how to read it? There is literally no quotation marks around the dialogue. How do I know who's speaking!? I mean, I'm gonna read it anyways but I might have to drag myself through it. "It's poetry" says Mr. Neve my science fiction teacher. It does have a poetic sound to it but come on man, no quotation marks? It's just too confusing for me. I do hope I get at least some insight on how I can be a better writer.
I hope life is great for you.
I know I may seem like some anonymous face that you know nothing about but if you read my posts, you'll learn something new about me every other day.
My name is Natalia and I am a writer. 

I'm not sure if I'm going to continue writing anymore. I know no one is reading it and I know I said I don't care but, what's the purpose? I've been doing a lot of thinking about writing lately and by tomorrow I'll be done with Bird by Bird. There's plenty of things that I have learned from the book especially how to improve my writing skills but I'm not sure if this is what I want to do. Don't get me wrong, I love to write but can I commit to it at least once a day? I know, oh god, once a day!? Give me a break! I don't know if writing once a day is the issue but I just feel like this isn't going to work. This is like breaking up with my soul mate because I don't want to kiss him. Was that a good comparison? I've been so tired and barely dreaming anymore. The last time I actually remember something from my sleep was the day before last when I took a nap after reading. I remember my mind scanning through book after book, picking out and highlighting words as if it were collecting them for future reference. Once I woke up, I thought somewhat along the lines of "and even when I'm sleeping I'm becoming a better writer", and I've never felt more satisfied with myself. I'm gonna keep writing the blog and continue to write every other day, because I do love to write, and what's better than that? So here's what I've learned:

• Always take down note worthy things. (Even though I started doing that a few days before I started reading the book) 
• Observe everything
• Listen more, Talk less
• Pay attention
• Being more compassionate = seeing others differently

I know these are simple things but they're not things that I've been doing until now. I always felt like I couldn't go throughout the day without keeping my headphones plugged in my ears, but I did. I read through the boring times (which is 95% of the school day), and payed attention when I needed to. I noted some quotes that meant something to me in the book and even something a quiet kid in front of me said:

"I live a life of servitude"

responding to my question of why he wanted to do all of the group work. This kid has been doing all of the group work probably his whole life, that now, he just offers to do it all himself! I couldn't bear to hear those words come out his mouth--but they did, and I was left there, empty handed, with only "Well... you should stop that.." as my pitiful response. People like him, go their whole lives letting people walk all over them because they feel its their duty, or because they're too kindhearted to say "No". You're supposed to be living your life in your own favor, not others. I'm not saying not to be generous, but don't put others wants in front of yours (generally speaking).
I'm going to finish tonight's post with a short excerpt of what's going on right now:

Pungent scents of crisp spices on high, spill through every crack and hole, racing through nostrils that can only bare a short whiff. Weights less than a gram struggle to keep my eyes closed, for my eyelids are too strong. A simple overused phrase of "I love you", leaks out the lips of my lover to which I can only respond no simpler than an "I love you too". There is no doubt he is blind to how these words have reached my ears, I have no doubt. They poured so smoothly through my right ear as if he were pouring the last of his cup down the drain. I know fires can't start without oxygen, but the spark of the match he throws down my throat with every kiss is enough to keep me warm every winter. I lay here waiting for a meal that might not kill me, and listening to everything but the words around me, and the only thing I can feel is rumble of my stomach, and the beating of a heart next to me. 

                                                                                                          -Natalia