Themoderncharm

The very thing that keeps all of us going. The love of art, beauty, and all things natural is entirely the reason we must keep going. We must keep fighting for these very things that keep us moving and walking towards the idea of happiness and fulfillment not only for ourselves but for the happiness for all man kind. This is the reason I began my blogging journey. The love of words, writing, and expression through scripture is what fuels my brain, my movement, and my speech. I truly believe that writing things, thoughts and emotions down sincerely saved my life. I feel as though my mother would be proud, not that her daughter could create such a thing, but that her very teachings flow through every single one of my words. It is like a legacy unspoken of, it simply emulates her style and creative thinking process. She is me in every way, and I am but a branch on her enormous tree, anchored buy roots made up of tears and joy. This is  story our, and our struggles, mixed together in one. Not like a movie, but like a book. Where the beginning is her life entirely written out. The middle is my life, and the ending, is where it’s both of our lives synchronized and together we battle life’s infinite amount of battle courses. The roller coaster never stops, and never seizes to amuse. The story is powerful, and one that many will learn from. If not now then when? Is the question I asked myself a million, maybe a trillion times, before taking this initiative to begin the story or better said this “book”. A time in my life where I’ve decided that I’ve cried way too much, and way too many times a  month to not be documenting exactly what it is that is going on in this young girls life, of which I have the honor, of calling mine. My life is that of a single sad story with various versions that have been told over and over again, in the past by different young girls such as myself. The beauty of mine is that, I have yet to read a story identical to mine. It leads me to confirm that it is impossible for me to ever find such a story, until I let mine be free. Maybe then more stories like mine shall come forward, and only then will my healing process commence. It’s been a long road to mental recovery to even begin writing this story line. However, the energy it takes to do this will be immense. It’s literally going to feel like I will be reliving many scenarios over and over again. So the story begins. It all began, when a seven year old small-town girl was forced to take charge as being the mother of the house. The young girl was my mom, Dilma Barco.

-Karina Caro