Feb 11, 2025
True Beginnings of a Quest…
With utmost spirits of hope, I send forth these words like enchanting wishes in the aurora skies, seeking to understand the voice of the written command…
Voice is the freedom to uncover the secrets of hidden whispers that echo internally, to bring forth the reality of my life…
It is and has always been a calming notion of adventuring, and tinkering with the idea of “what could happen next?” My imagination ran wild, and I knew the thrill of wearing the ‘cape of mystery’ and ‘rose-tinted glasses.’ I would think about people that I had gotten to know, and their voices always played in my head. But there is one that always keeps coming back, mine.
Running from the muddy jungles barefoot, next to the fiery volcanoes of my home, I never saw a dim light. My eyes circled with clouds and waterfalls, my home was a chamber of secrets and a cavern of boundless creativity. I grew up in the lands of queens and kings, through the tierra of the warriors and axolotls. Growing up in an impoverished immigrant family has been my superpower because it has given me perspective. I am seeking to answer the voices that have surrounded me to handle the pressures of living multiple lives. This has always been a challenge to explain but it has never been pressure. Pressure is that my father never misses a day of construction because his kids need to eat, or my mother collapses to the couch after a long day of cleaning toilets so that her kids don’t have to live in the streets. What I get to do is privilege, and there is not a day that I forget that… It's a serene voice to live to the sacrifices of the future.
In the multitude of layers, the Imposter voice shouts the loudest, always lingering on my last nerve. Collapsing all the pillars of my tower. It’s the one I fight to this day, combating to fill a sense of worth within the realms of shadows that I hide behind. It's not because I don't feel proud of myself but because the regret of failure or the key to success are two possibilities that evolve into change. It is this alternative self that I fear deconstruction. Yet, I want to smile and not fear myself. “Son las caídas de la vida” After all, this has changed my life. I want to find the wisdom to become a storyteller. The stories that I want to tell are the ones that I hope others will dream alongside me and believe in the magic of writing. This flourishing writing voice bloomed, and I won't let it go. It's here to stay along this ride.
This “Mexican” voice still speaks broken English, but it is the one that carries the origins of my existence, the one that couldn’t write, until just last year, the sparks turned into flames and a passion ignited to seek a creative voice, the art of storytelling within the mystic and mystery. I want to tinker with voices I have never thought I had within me, the long-foreseen and the ones that I suppressed due to the hatred of my head. I felt disjunction that I would carry many layers of identity, my old self and someone who I will eventually be. Yet, what I seek is authenticity within the craft of my words. A voice that resembles the truth of what I have lived and what the uncertainty of an unknown future holds upon. I want to feel what I felt and turn that into a story of unchained secrets that will live with me. Having been a child, a teenager, and now a young adult with many phases of twists and twirls of voices, every voice had always felt the same. Every voice had combined into one...