Locks and their illusions only work if the agreement between strangers is kept. It must be the case because if they were so safe and effective then why do they make new models all the time. The fact is that is someone wants to open a lock and invade your privacy they will find a way.

My parents  tell me of a time that sounds made up to me now in 2017. The fond memory of a time in Italy, where we use to live, where people trusted in their neighbors so much that they let their door and car keys on their locks. I mean isn’t it sad that now there are less and less places that continue to live with this kind of mentality, where people have faith in others and respect for their privacy.


10,000 Spoons

I knew it was time to surrender to my problems when I started to cry as I listened to the popular song Ironic by Alanis Morissette, while driving. I can no longer pretend that I’m calm, add to all of this the road rage caused by the ridiculous amounts of stress that comes with driving in Miami, a true terror; every time there’s a merge lane situation I literally don’t know if i’m going to make it. Then add construction going on for months now at home in renovations and I’m seriously done, I cannot continue like this.

I’ve started to slowly give up the the possibility of me continuing to pursue my career in editorial work at the moment. No opportunities are being offered to me no matter how many I apply for constantly and on a global scale. At this point the lack of purpose is getting to me, so I stop and think, “Why am I still here, waiting?” I think I should leave the U.S., it’s not the land of the American Dream anymore and it has too many stresses to bare while also trying to be patient and motivated, ready for when the opportunity offers itself. Everyone is dying to get into the country and I’m just hear with generalized anxiety thinking that although we don’t have it the worst things aren’t improving they are getting worse. People as I like to say are rotting away on the inside and masking it all on the surface.

Italy seems like a better solution, although it too is suffering as a country from a lot of economical problems at least you have a life there. People actually get vacation time, are more responsible on the road, aren’t hollering out sexist comments at you (disclaimer: this mainly applies to the shit behavior of hispanics in Miami.) Or maybe France where people may be aloof but they do come together to fight against abuses in the work place. America is nothing but materialism and people only thinking of their own well being in respect to wealth and easily forget about the important things in life like love, family and freedom.

I’m that girl who has 10,000 spoons and all I really need is a knife.  

Something Beautiful

I remember I once wrote a cover letter that wasn’t bland. Of course it highlighted my skills and previous work experience, but that’s boring, something anyone can just spit out. I talked about something beautiful, wanting to create things that were beautiful and I still love how romantic that sounds.

I am not the best artist in the classical sense -I am however-  phenomenal at concepting and delegating tasks to talented people who can execute them. At first this sounds weird or nonsensical, like I’m trying to take credit for others’s art or something. But what I’m describing is exactly what a creative director does because although the artist may hold the specific talent they may need someone like me who has the view of the bigger picture and complete package to make sure it is executed.

The thought of putting in months of work and helping in the creation of something beautiful like Annie Leibovitz’s interpretation of Marie Antoinette’s world in VOGUE is what I aspire to. And probably something madame Marie Antionette, Dauphine of France would have loved herself.

Speculation is the Enemy

Speculation is the root of all evil…

Okay well maybe greed has something to do with it too, but let’s face it speculation really is the devil.

Now I live in the US and one of the latest cases of stupidity caused by speculation is the miss informed, bullshit polls taken before the preseidential election. All pointing to Hilary Clinton as the next president of the United States. Spoiler alert, Donald Trump is our democratically elected president!

Pure poison is what is spewed out by news sites with no integrity. There was a time in the US when journalists did their job, i.e. serving and informing the masses. Not just doing things for views, money and retweets. No one can be unbiased that’s impossible, but fuck me most of the media isn’t even trying to be logical or fair.

Journalist have forgotten their duties to the people, which use to be and should still be to inform the public. In the same way doctors and laws enforcement is suppose to help the public.

I mean imagine a world where doctors only helped people who gave them the most money or popularity.


Punishment is something that many control freaks seek to get a little relief. Relief for the pressure of constantly having to plan, fix, organize and feel responsible for others. Receiving punishment that you have agreed to is sexy because you’re giving the power to someone else, the power to dominate, the power to misstep and have it all be their fault and not yours.

The best part is the moment you agreed to the punishment at your command, is the moment you acted like you were willing to be submissive, but really you gave the order…

Source: Punishment

Job Wanted

I thought the purpose of my moving to NYC so suddenly was to get a job or at least some type of internship/temp work that would help beef up my resume. So far though, no luck. I’m applying everywhere and I mean everywhere; on a global scale! But I’m here, in this famous city to play the numbers game. You see back in my beloved Miami there are pretty much only 3 major magazines and the likelihood of you being hired there is laughable. I’m not giving up though, like I learned at a wonderful mentorship cocktail event by Ed2010, “It only takes one.”

Fireworks On The Go

At the end of a very uneventful 4th of July, where all plans made were never completed and it was raining, the disappointment was interrupted by loud bangs and bright lights from fireworks all over New York City. Fireworks adorned both sides of the highway as we drove back into the city from our mediocre BBQ experience in Connecticut. As we arrived in Bronx the sounds of blasts intensified, which was to be expected since fireworks had been going off here already for a few days prior to the big Independence Day celebration. Then just as I prepared myself a shower the loudest encounter yet, I could hear the sparks or pieces of store bought fireworks crashing down on the roof of our ordinary apartment building. It was magical and scary at the same time and unexpected unlike the promised beach day that never happened.