Hello, You’re Welcomed

I don’t think my mom ever thought of becoming a mom, it just happened to her, like most things in her life; unplanned, not unwanted, but welcomed.

She must have learned not to ask from life, because she wouldn’t have get them in the first place, or that was what she thought, she told me she learned it the hard way. Growing up, mom had a different life; ‘divorced’ parents, older and younger siblings from the other wife, again more so from the step-dad. Both man figures rich, still not capable of expressing love or simply loving.

What he lacked in love, he had it in his pocket, at least this is what I understood from what I heard. I’m judgmental about him, it isn’t right… My mom’s dad, I have no right to be, everything we have today is thanks to him,thus I am always grateful. I can’t call him ‘grandpa’ in my mind though, he passed away years ago, before I was born, and honestly I perceived him as distant.

Anyways what I am trying to come down to in all this word mess is that I am  different from my mom; she accepted what she got and she got good things in what really matters -like a decent husband, traveling the world, have a nice life right now- while I try to battle my way through things I already have.

I plan things, I try to control them like a good, but pathetic control freak would and I am a perfectionist. Mom, works through her problems with new age things, I sweep them under the rug, cause I love a good external perception.

I never accept anything, that is not something to be proud of, I can’t welcome what the wind brings.

Wanting more sometimes is getting less (than you wished). This is maybe why I act and feel like a brat, this is why I can’t let go,this is why a part of my personality is hidden in here.

Expecting more makes people unhappy, when actually we should seize every moment. Words are simple to put out though and I can’t listen to my own words, just like it is in any case.

Marissa ‘Riss’ Demi


The Nebulous Times

Watching the sea, being with my mom and dad, feeding wild pigs in front of our house, taking walks in the sea side…

Looking at these, I feel at ease, like I’m no longer living a life, rather I’m dreaming, or in between. I no longer count the hours that led to the end of the day, the sun comes down too quickly anyways.

Depression, boredom? What are those things when you don’t have any time to worry about them?

This is my break from life and the city.

Until this year, maybe even until tonight, I didn’t understand why everyone (older people) loved the calm holiday spots. Now that it is slow around our spot, I finally do. This is the place where you come to take a break from all your worries and problems, this is where the time stops, unless you literally watch the clock.

Most importantly, this is the place where you forget about life for a while, not in a bar corner listening to the piano man sing about it (it will work too, just not in this way).

The bubble I’m in is no good for long though, there are still people out there, living the chaos; hungry in the cities, dying in the streets, crying in the sidewalk, shouting for help.

Do I hear them, do we hear them? Knowing does not mean hearing, caring does not help.

I do not help them, I see them, most of the time I don’t believe them. Honestly, sometimes I look away, then spend time thinking about why I didn’t help. This is how things are for many people, we are not bad, we are just ignorant.

When I do help, I help women with children who do not beg for help, we give them food, not money. Of course it makes a difference for them, but what about the others?

What about the migrants? What about everyone else who suffers in this world? What about the humanity, I know I lack compared to many nice people?

I live in my ‘nebulous of life’ this summer, then switch it to the winter version of it.

Again knowing my lacking parts is one thing, fixing them is another.

Marissa ‘Riss’ Demi

The Fear Who Defined The Girl

Bumps on the road go up and down, up and down, up and down…

The heart of the girl pu-pu-pumps, pu-pu-pumps,

All through the road.

What happened is that I had a car accident, same thing, same place, same driver, twice. My brain goes back to that a lot. I fear, I get scared. More so, I get mad.

Because, I want to define myself as brave, instead I let my fears define me.  I hear ‘You are letting your fears get on your way’ so many times a day. Yes, I know they are getting in my way of having a good car trip, yes I am even scared of thinking about somethings.There is no changing things that will happen, I know ;also I  believe we can only control the way we handle those things. That is what I need to remind my self.

Who would have known remembering a simple mantra is so challenging?

I fear everything, not mostly scared by something like a joke, I’m rather a brick wall in those times.

I fear of death; I constantly think about it, playing scenarios of what would happen to my loved ones, knowing ‘que sear que sera’. The scene that pops up, scares the sh*t out of me; its morbid. I am even scared writing that down, like typing here would change anything.

Little skinny purple pal in my head probably rules my emotions; what Joy does for Riley, fear does for me (Inside Out). A voice screaming through my emotions, my body responding to the anxiety.

The correct word for my situation is hyper vigilance, according to Dr. Google: always being in an alarming state of mind.

They say knowing the problem is a step in the right direction, hope it is for me. Cause living like this is basically not enjoying life, I don’t feel alive when I always think about my fears.

Marissa ‘Riss’ Demi

Hail, to the Future

For it is our rightful king and commander, for all of us work towards it without knowing what it might bring.

I once heard that a child expresses its interest to a career that will make them happy when they are 12-15 years old. Back then, what did I want to be?

I know the answer, my mom claims to know the answer, my dad has no clue and mom’s wrong.

I wanted to become a doctor or an actress, two very different things… That is still my wish though. There is some truth to what I heard after all. And if I look a the bare truth, I’m majoring in Political Science, will graduate in two years- and will work in the area?

Sad Portrait of a Young Women.

No, that won’t be mine, not when there is lots of other things happening to better and not deserving people. Not when everyday a young kid who will never graduate from high school loses its life. Not when I still have the chance to make my life the way I desire.

Maybe the future is written in a notebook, or on a piece of tapestry or it is never written at all and we are creating it as we go. One thing I know, whether it’s written or not, all of us worry about it, all of us work towards it; thinking the way it will make our future better. So we are all Future’s slaves.

P.S: Is there a Khaleesi to free us? Do we even want to be saved? (I might not, if there are dragons be my guest though:)

Marissa ‘Riss’ Demi


Paradox of ‘Happy’

Who will I be? Where will I end up? Happy, sad , miserable, rich, broke or all at once?

Happiness according to St. Augustine can only be determined if you are having your last breath. So working towards the end is the answer? Although since he was a Christian Priest, he might have said it for a religious cause ( I’ve read his work before, but not very closely).

Anyway, life shouldn’t be all about being happy, if happiness is the highest place you can reach. What would you do when you are happy all the time?

I’ll get bored, think about it.

Little problems to solve are the things that make me feel alive. Those are the stuff that give me purpose. Fighting for things is what I like, stressing over things  gives me thrills, adrenaline pumps my heart, being sad sometimes is what causes me to appreciate my happier times.

If everyone was happy all the time, the concept would lose its meaning. When there is no opposite situation to compare, would happiness still be happiness?

Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple, although this is not my questions to answer.

It differs for everyone I guess and I don’t know my own answer.

Marissa ‘Riss’ Demi

The River

Is it possible to be jealous of someone who no longer resides in this world? Is it normal to feel it, guessing she wouldn’t love you as much as she would love your cousin, when actually your cousin was the one who she waited for and wanted to see?

I never knew my aunt, she died long before I was born, or before I wasn’t even a thought in my mothers mind, or let’s just say before my parents even met.

She was by all means an angel according to everyone who were lucky to get to know her.My mom and my aunt didn’t have the best relationship, although she was very close with my great-aunt, so her children -my aunt’s cousins- were close to.

Legend has it (it is the truth btw), she asked my uncle (mom’s cousin) and his wife when she would have a nephew or a niece frequently.

When my cousin was born, they took her to my aunt’s grave and they still visit her every year.

We never visited her, it’s complicated, our family businesses.

And mom doesn’t like visiting the graveyards. Who does? She doesn’t believe that it matters for the departed since they are already gone.

My jealousy, it is just… The way they talk about her…

I’m an only child, I don’t like to share and in this situation, I don’t even have her to share. My cousin does.

Aunt, if you can hear me, I am sorry, I know I am troubled and  I know I am selfish. I would have loved you, I love you. You would have loved both of us very much and maybe I wouldn’t have felt so lonely in this family in the summers.

Rest in peace,

Marissa ‘Riss’ Demi


Hey Barbie, Hi Ken!

You wanna go for a ride? Suure Ken.                                                                                                      I’m a Barbie Girl, in my Barbie World. Life in plastic, its fantastic.

What’s weird about us is that we almost always contradict ourselves.

Mainly in love businesses. Romeo and Juliet are the perfect couple? Come on, we are better than that. Sure it is a great literary piece, but the love story? Meh, I’m not really inspired by it.

Dying in the arms of your (so called) first love-with the poison from the lips- is poetic, but pathetic?   Dying to be together? Sure, this has worked for so many great movies, and still is a  relevant subject.   Although, when our loved one says ‘I’ll die for you’, we automatically understand ‘I love you’. That is what he or she meant probably, right? Frankly hearing those words makes us happy.

Dude, I don’t want you to give up your life for me, I want to spend my life with you.

Even though you don’t exist for me, you -BF- exist for so many, I respect that.

Just saying’, promises of love should be about this world, not some other places which we don’t know much about. Love and life are similar sounding words, that should mean something right?

When it comes to me, I won’t be alone forever, everything has a time and a place. Hopefully before I am 30, I’ll find someone and I’ll become the person who I want to be and have the life I’ve always dreamt of, but I don know what that is just yet.

Only, if I was mature enough to believe my own words… Still, I don’t have to believe to hope I guess, or should I?

Marissa ‘Riss’ Demi

Nobody’s Girl

Nobody’s Girl. That was the print of a shirt I saw today at a clothing store. that word, nobody…
A girl is a no one.
Like it means I’m not loved, alone, unwanted.
Problem, is with me and my interpretation of that word probably.

Jessie’s girl, Mattie’s girl, Edward’s Bella, Romeo’s Juliet, Brad’s Angelina, Harry’s Ginny, Ron’s Hermione…

-I’m not a feminist by all means; I’m not not one either, hence I don’t actually know the full meaning of being a feminist. I only know the basics and I’m that kind of girl who will claim to be something she doesn’t have the full knowledge about.-

So, belonging to man, at least becoming ‘his girl’ is not a problem, in fact I wish I was; so many times that sometimes I believe I’m obsessed.
How would it make me feel? Will I love him? Would I love the way he looks at me?

I once liked the feels of that situation, but love? That is something else. It might have been; I was called Bret’s girl although it wasn’t official and my friends hated him.
It was complicated and I wasn’t on a place where I could defy my only friends, thus I will never know.

Just another possibility, maybe happening right now in a parallel universe.

In this one though, I am ‘my girl’, ‘Marissa’s Girl’
And for this instant its fine.

Marissa ‘Riss’ Demi

Shades of Fear

I learned about what happened 8 hours later-time difference. The first thought that went through my head was: ‘I could have been there, I could been one of them’, even though it is not possible by any means.

This has been my reaction to every terrorist attack so far, and I seriously wish and pray for this to be the last.

Knowing the state of the world is in, the belief I had seems to last no longer than a minute. Not a day goes by without killings, bombs exploding all around the globe, people(!) shooting people, mothers and fathers fearing to travel together in weekends, so that if something bad happens their child wont lose both of them.

No matter who dies and who suffers, whether white, black, LGBTQ, we are all people nonetheless. We all came from our mothers, we all have people who care about us, even the ones who take the lives of so many…

This is what actually shocks me; mankind is the danger, the same mankind who can feel joy, anger, sadness… How is it that someone who came out of someone else, can kill others who were born the same way? What happens in the middle that we’ve missed?

Are we -human life- that worthless? Shouldn’t our lives mean anything else?

Was dying unexpectedly is the reason why they loved and lived?

This shouldn’t be the way, this shouldn’t be the way of our generation, we shouldn’t fear our peers and neighbors. All in all, none of us shouldn’t fear another human being.

Although, what should happen, rarely matches with what actually happens.

I am so sorry for the loss of all those innocent people, may you rest in peace.                       My heart goes out to everyone who have lost someone they loved and cared for.

Marissa ‘Riss’ Demi


My ‘Marked’ Hands

Having a physical default and being constantly reminded of it sucks.
Don’t get me wrong, the default I have is not even serious; it is just eczema in the form red, hard, crusty skin. And I have zits, like most teenagers.

Although I am no longer in puberty.

When I was a teen I never had the zit problem, this year my face feels like a mine field (exaggeration mode is on).

Anyways, my mom is always inspecting my face, coming closer and closer with wider eyes. Concerning my hands, she always tries to hold them to feel the intensity of the eczema. It is fine that she is concerned, it’s natural. She is my mom after all.

But I am OK with my face; I accepted the fact that I HAVE zits.

She couldn’t.

My hands are the real deal, she gives me advice and makes me use all those different oils.


Mom, just let me do whatever I want, those are my hands; my problem, my responsibility.

I have a thing, whenever someone  (mom) criticizes me on something that I am confident about ,I get itchy. because my ‘anger expression’ is damaged.

My hands feel horrible when I touch them and the things I feel inside can not be described truly with words. Basically, it is feeling ashamed to hand shake, or not wanting to hold out your hand to greet or to pay someone, it is thinking that you won’t find a boyfriend or a girlfriend, hence then you would have to engage in physical contact.

It wasn’t always like that, before she made it a problem, I was fine with them.

Knowing the deformities other people have, which is more visible and harder to cure, I can’t even imagine the burden.

I also know that in my age looks feel like the most important thing, although of course its not. It is an exam or a pop quiz in real life, we have to solve. No matter how sh*tty we feel, there are lots of other things to like about ourselves.

Weird coming from me; but loving yourself is seriously the key to feeling better.

Letting other people’s words get to you, will only make you sad. But remember; it only makes them look stupid.

Marissa ‘Riss’ Demi