We Are Rebelles in a Rebelle Society.
We Rebelles operate through a dialectic, aching and painstakingly groping after the syntheses that will create foundations for future generations.
Browsing Tag:
beautiful
Chaos: A Part of the Beautiful Unfolding of Life.
Snotty tissues piled up. My tear-stained t-shirt became a beautiful piece of art that my friend Alice dubbed 'Rainfall on heartache'.
This Is the Story of Your Birth.
When a star burns up, it is total. It’s explosive. It’s chaos... You could not ask for a more beautiful death, and therefore, a more beautiful birth.
We Are All Beautiful.
I want them to look at others and see how beautiful the differences in them are, not use those same differences as tools for comparison.
You’re a Bit Chunky: Strange Misconceptions in the Produce Section.
Ten, or maybe even five years ago, I would have reacted very differently. I would have been upset, angry, filled with indignity, and hurt. I might have gone to soothe myself by buying some baked goods and eating the whole lot of them. See, I was a chubby child, and my extended family made fun ...
The Untelevised Battle Lines.
These wars begin inside and push their way out. They require personal examination and reevaluation. To know ourselves is to know each other, so why not turn all of our outsourced energy within back to ourselves? Fill ourselves up until we’re overflowing and have within our grasp what we need -- ...
Caring for My Creative: On Being Well-Rested.
Of what purpose is my being well-rested if my children are far away? Of what purpose is my being rested if there are parents weeping the losses of Xavier, Luis, Franky, Enrique, Joel, Kimberly, Gilberto, Brenda, Miguel, Eddie, Paul, Juan, and all the hearts stopped last Saturday evening? What ...
Feeling My Emotions Was an Art I Had to Learn How to Embrace.
When you give yourself permission to use your gifts, and to stand in your own power and feel your emotions, you give everyone else permission to use their gifts and stand in their power and feel all their emotions, and to me, that’s what the world needs: more people expressing everything, their ...
Darling. {poetry}
I swallow the rest of my wine, and slide the lip-stained glass to the bartender
I lean over and touch her arm as my matte black nails drag softly over her skin
She turns her attention away from the poor sap who never stood a chance
Spiraling Wildly Towards A Mystery.
Step by step, we are meeting ourselves as someone new. Getting to know this new mysterious person. Constantly being asked to revisit and let go of the old persona.