veni, vedi, vici. i came, i saw, i conquered. A phrase reportedly made popular by Julius Caesar. plenty of times in our lives we feel the need to take control and conquer whatever its is we're trying to overcome. as of recent, ive just passed a crossroads in my chapter. finding common ground with common sense and what i think is morally correct has been a struggle for me since my adolescence. but with age and experience comes knowledge and wisdom, the latter compensating for time spent figuring out what to do. the point im trying to make is that sometimes letting things just naturally fall into place isnt enough. the optimist dreams while the opportunist takes advantage. veni, vedi, vici. why limit and become complacent with ourselves? tomorrow has yet to be written.
like i mentioned earlier, i just passed a crossroads in myself. in the most unexpected of ways, ive realized that people dont see me the same way i see myself. as individuals, we focus on our faults and imperfections because those are the things that we know for sure. but how do we know if we're nice? how do we know we're caring, compassionate, a good listener? we dont. qualities that define a person as "good" cant be seen in oneself. sometimes we do things involuntarily. within the last few months, ive noticed a growing trend of people discussing their personal matters with me, quiet openly i might add. at first it annoyed me, (with the exception of a few people, they know who they are), but it got to the point where things got personal and i didnt know them very well. i thought to myself what could be the reason for this? the answer has been in front of me the whole time. people want to be heard. they want someone to listen to them. maybe they dont get attention at home. maybe they dont feel comfortable talking with anyone. or maybe they just dont have anyone in general to talk to. the reasons are unknown, but in some sort of way, i sympathize with these people. i remember what it was like longing for someone to talk to, someone to listen to me. i didnt find that specific person i could confide with, so i made a promise to myself years ago. it doesnt matter who you are, i will listen to you, because i know what it was like not having anyone to talk to. i know what it was like having so many thoughts and emotions bottled up and not having any sort of outlet available.
i have always valued peoples time. its something thats engraved in my soul. every moment that a person spends listening to me, every phone call i get asking me how im doing, every random "hi" text, every good morning that people tell me are things that i cherish and appreciate deeply. those are things that take time, and time is a precious commodity. when something is using and spending their time on me, that is a person i respect and care about deeply. this is one of those things that no amount of words or using any in depth vocabulary can describe. i am very serious when in comes to peoples time. and i know that i sound redundant describing this, but thats how intense i feel about time. people arent obligated to listen you, talk to you, look at you. knowing that someone genuinely cares about your well being is something that shouldnt be taken lightly. what we take for granted others could only wish they had. use your time to let someone else know that you appreciate theirs. acknowledging your appreciation for them can make anyones day. sometimes the people that listen to us need a little boost of their own. why dont you start by thanking them for being there for you? Like Layne Staley said, "if i would, could you?"
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Russian Roulette
everyday to me is a learning process. not only do i try to learn something everyday to better myself, but i learn about myself as well. sometimes when i think im right in a situation, i replay it in my head and realize that the majority of time, im wrong. im blinded by my own arrogance and selfishness. i dont see things from the other persons point of view and i end up upsetting or disappointing them. i try to run away from that part of me, but i feel chained in the abyss that lives within. the harder i run, the more consumed i get, like a shadow that follows you in the dark.
i stay up at night trying to forgive myself for the people that i hurt in my life. some nights i cant sleep at all because of the deep sadness and emptiness i feel inside. forgiveness is earned, but i feel like i dont do anything to make things right. im trying to swim forward in a pool of mistakes, but im swimming against the tide and drowning. thats part of the reason i keep myself quarantined. i dont want to infect people with my virus. my problems should not become the problems of others.
ive felt disappointment my whole life, so at a young age i decided for myself that i would be there for people that needed me. my philosophy at the time was simple: i wanted to be there for people because no one was ever there for me. i didnt want someone to feel that seclusion and loneliness that i felt. people deserved more than that. but as i got older, i realized that people dont care about you, no matter what you do for them. slowly my world came crumbling down, and i was left alone in the ashes and ruble. that was the time i started giving up. i didnt deserve to be treated like some sort of stress pillow. i never wanted something in return from these people, but to be just forgotten like i never existed? all of a sudden, the dark feelings i was trying to prevent other people from having were growing in me. my pessimistic attitude was born.
life and nature have a weird way of helping you though. im a firm believer that everyone enters and leaves your life according to their time. i still dont know what to make of the hand nature has dealt me, but so far, im more than appreciative of my support. sometimes we do get dealt a bad hand, but its up to us to try and make the best out of it. the people we meet and let in to our soul will always be a gamble because they have the power to help and build us up or tear us down. when we open up to someone, we bet everything and go all in. thats the only way to truly understand someone. sometimes we open up for the wrong people, but thats part of the game. people can be hit or miss. just like russian roulette.
i stay up at night trying to forgive myself for the people that i hurt in my life. some nights i cant sleep at all because of the deep sadness and emptiness i feel inside. forgiveness is earned, but i feel like i dont do anything to make things right. im trying to swim forward in a pool of mistakes, but im swimming against the tide and drowning. thats part of the reason i keep myself quarantined. i dont want to infect people with my virus. my problems should not become the problems of others.
ive felt disappointment my whole life, so at a young age i decided for myself that i would be there for people that needed me. my philosophy at the time was simple: i wanted to be there for people because no one was ever there for me. i didnt want someone to feel that seclusion and loneliness that i felt. people deserved more than that. but as i got older, i realized that people dont care about you, no matter what you do for them. slowly my world came crumbling down, and i was left alone in the ashes and ruble. that was the time i started giving up. i didnt deserve to be treated like some sort of stress pillow. i never wanted something in return from these people, but to be just forgotten like i never existed? all of a sudden, the dark feelings i was trying to prevent other people from having were growing in me. my pessimistic attitude was born.
life and nature have a weird way of helping you though. im a firm believer that everyone enters and leaves your life according to their time. i still dont know what to make of the hand nature has dealt me, but so far, im more than appreciative of my support. sometimes we do get dealt a bad hand, but its up to us to try and make the best out of it. the people we meet and let in to our soul will always be a gamble because they have the power to help and build us up or tear us down. when we open up to someone, we bet everything and go all in. thats the only way to truly understand someone. sometimes we open up for the wrong people, but thats part of the game. people can be hit or miss. just like russian roulette.
Friday, October 3, 2014
Fear Is What Gives Men Wings
these breaks i take in between posts are terrible. right when i think im starting to gain momentum, i stop writing. i have so many things i want to write about but nothing ever materializes. ideas always sound better in your head than when you write them down.
during these last few months ive felt a cocktail of emotions. i thought i knew how to handle them, but ive gone all in on a losing hand. its fear. im afraid of losing whats left of me. the little part of myself that i save for people who deserve to know the real me. slowly its fading away into nothing more than a memory. no matter how hard i try to change, there is always something that wants to see me fail. so far ive done a pretty good job of keeping myself under control, but how much more of this can i take? im afraid of what will come out when i finally lose myself. i dont even want to know.
in my mind i always wonder how people live so calm and freely? i realize that that's one of my problems. i think about everything i see. and when i cant find the answer, the question never stops bothering me. its a daily cycle. i dont know why not having an answer bothers me so much. i know that in life, sometimes the most beautiful things we see or do dont have an answer. one question that i ask myself recently is what makes me cold minded. is it jealousy i feel towards people that i see genuinely happy? or is it knowing that ive had to work for everything i had while some people where born into it? or maybe its the loneliness growing inside that ive felt most my life?
im still nocturnal. there were some nights i didnt sleep at all. thinking. waiting for a thought to help me go to sleep. all i could think about was my fear. i understand we all feel afraid at some point in time, but usually people have some sort of self assurance, like a book or someone else. in my case i really dont have many options. i have to face my fears head on. ive been dissapointed so many times in my life now that i feel immune to the effects their choices. there have been plenty of times people have just left me when i was at my lowest. even though they did that, it helped me deal with things on my own.
every once in awhile i do wish i had someone to go to, but i remember everything that ive gone through, ive been alone. what drives me isnt the will to move forward.. far from it. its fear. my fear of failure. i dont want it to catch up with me or to be eaten alive by it. after all, its fear that gives men wings.
during these last few months ive felt a cocktail of emotions. i thought i knew how to handle them, but ive gone all in on a losing hand. its fear. im afraid of losing whats left of me. the little part of myself that i save for people who deserve to know the real me. slowly its fading away into nothing more than a memory. no matter how hard i try to change, there is always something that wants to see me fail. so far ive done a pretty good job of keeping myself under control, but how much more of this can i take? im afraid of what will come out when i finally lose myself. i dont even want to know.
in my mind i always wonder how people live so calm and freely? i realize that that's one of my problems. i think about everything i see. and when i cant find the answer, the question never stops bothering me. its a daily cycle. i dont know why not having an answer bothers me so much. i know that in life, sometimes the most beautiful things we see or do dont have an answer. one question that i ask myself recently is what makes me cold minded. is it jealousy i feel towards people that i see genuinely happy? or is it knowing that ive had to work for everything i had while some people where born into it? or maybe its the loneliness growing inside that ive felt most my life?
im still nocturnal. there were some nights i didnt sleep at all. thinking. waiting for a thought to help me go to sleep. all i could think about was my fear. i understand we all feel afraid at some point in time, but usually people have some sort of self assurance, like a book or someone else. in my case i really dont have many options. i have to face my fears head on. ive been dissapointed so many times in my life now that i feel immune to the effects their choices. there have been plenty of times people have just left me when i was at my lowest. even though they did that, it helped me deal with things on my own.
every once in awhile i do wish i had someone to go to, but i remember everything that ive gone through, ive been alone. what drives me isnt the will to move forward.. far from it. its fear. my fear of failure. i dont want it to catch up with me or to be eaten alive by it. after all, its fear that gives men wings.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Burned Alive
it happened again. another nightmare. so vivid and violent, but so poetic. my dreams are starting to become more and more like poems. theyre starting to have a beginning, middle and end. they all have the same themes. death. pain. misery. suffering. are my dreams a consequence of years of watching horror movies? maybe. are my dreams caused by my fascination of violent and insane minds? probably. one thing i am sure of, my dreams would make some pretty kick ass movies.
each night before i go to sleep, i go through a ritual. i drink some coffee, read a few pages of the book im working on, listen to 30 minutes of music, and call it a night. thats when the fun begins. you see, each night my thoughts play a different style of russian roulette. instead of passing around a revolver with one loaded chamber, my brain plays with my dreams. sometimes i can go a week or more without a single dream, other times i have good dreams 3 times in 1 week. and then there are times like last night where my brain says "fuck you, your not sleeping tonight." once the ritual is done, i close my eyes and concentrate on sleeping. usually works too.
shortly after i fall asleep, the show starts. i was in a grocery store, getting some last minute food items. the place was complete chaos. people running, fighting, shouting everywhere. i had a shopping cart of groceries and water that i was able to salvage out of there. anarchy had taken over. on the tv that was in the store, the reports were coming in. a super storm the size of the city was making its way towards us in record speed. by the time i was making it out to my car, the storm had reached me. i run back inside, taking all my supplies with me. but while i was running back inside, i noticed a smell in the air, and the clouds were a different color. the sky was blanketed in crimson colored clouds. they were the color of a summer sunset. the next thing that happened made me realize how insanely terrible this nightmare could (and would) be.
i woke up around 1am and made sure i was still alive. the intensity of dreams sometimes gets channeled through your subconscious and into your body. that explains why people talk, sweat, or move during dreams. after a few minutes of regaining my grip on reality, i fall back asleep. my subconscious wasnt done with me yet. the dream picks back up where it left off. when i was running back inside the store, there was the faint but corrosive smell in the air that i noticed. it was raining gasoline.
i take refuge in a restroom, picking up a fire blanket that was on the floor. i know, convenient right? the fire storm was starting outside. i cover myself with the blanket and lie completely still in the corner of the restroom. the agonizing screams of pain and help surrounded me. i was alone in the restroom and under the blanket, but the screams felt like they were next to me. people were running back inside, but they were completely engulfed in flames. they set fire to everything inside. explosions from gas tanks and cars could be heard from the outside. hurricane force winds blew some of the gasoline rain into the store. people were running, screaming, crying, praying. the extreme heat could be felt underneath the fire blanket. at any moment i was expecting to burn too. after seconds of silence, the wind stopped. so did the screams.
i woke up again. it was 5:30am. i felt nauseous. no nightmare i have ever had has made me feel that way. it was that intense. by this point, i didnt want to go back to sleep. i knew that if i did, the dream wouldnt end. on the other hand, if i wanted it to go away, i had to face it through the end. i got nothing to lose, well, except sleep. after another 20 minute struggle, i pass out again.
just like i thought, it starts where i left off. i come out from under the blanket. there's no power in the store, but the flames inside led the way. the store was completely on fire. smoke blanketed the roof. i had to get out of there before i suffocated. to be quiet honest, i cant really describe what i saw inside. everything was burned, black, and covered in soot. only the silhouette of shelfs and registers remained. i make it out the store. what i see next was one of the worst things ive ever seen, real or fake.
i run out the store. when my eyes adjusted to the light, i felt my stomach drop, my knees shake and buckle, and an ache in my heart ive never felt. the sky cleared, but it had an orange/red color to it. cars were destroyed and charbroiled. buildings were blown to pieces. some of the light poles melted. in the distance i could still hear explosions go off. the first thing on my mind was that this was it. the day finally came. the end of days. hell was making its way to earth. the four horsemen would run rampant in our realm, slaying any survivors that were left. Death's angels would make its way soon to feed off the bodies and souls of the newly departed. they were hells cleanup crew. cheap but efficient.
the smell of burning hair and flesh was in the air. so this is what the holocaust must've been like. i assess the damage done: total annihilation. i walk across the parking lot to see if there were any survivors. none. just piece of flesh and bone left behind. at this point my nose feels like its on fire. the hairs inside felt completely burned away, almost as if they melted. the stench of the bodies, hair, and gasoline made me heave plenty of times, but nothing came out. my eyes are filled with tears. it was a mixture of both tears of sadness and the fumes still in the air. still walking across the lot, i asked myself why this all happened. what is some sort of purge? could it really be the end of days? how did it rain gasoline? i walk up to the main road and look down to see how far the fire affected the area. nothing survived. smoke was emanating from homes as far as i could see. there was no hope. there were no survivors.
i walk onto the middle of the road and begin to go towards the residential area. by this point hope and faith were long gone for me. i realized that i was alone. nothing or no one made it out. feeling tired and weak, i layed down in the middle of the road. i cried a few silent tears and went to sleep. ashes were raining down and covering me like snow. i went to sleep and never woke back up.
each night before i go to sleep, i go through a ritual. i drink some coffee, read a few pages of the book im working on, listen to 30 minutes of music, and call it a night. thats when the fun begins. you see, each night my thoughts play a different style of russian roulette. instead of passing around a revolver with one loaded chamber, my brain plays with my dreams. sometimes i can go a week or more without a single dream, other times i have good dreams 3 times in 1 week. and then there are times like last night where my brain says "fuck you, your not sleeping tonight." once the ritual is done, i close my eyes and concentrate on sleeping. usually works too.
shortly after i fall asleep, the show starts. i was in a grocery store, getting some last minute food items. the place was complete chaos. people running, fighting, shouting everywhere. i had a shopping cart of groceries and water that i was able to salvage out of there. anarchy had taken over. on the tv that was in the store, the reports were coming in. a super storm the size of the city was making its way towards us in record speed. by the time i was making it out to my car, the storm had reached me. i run back inside, taking all my supplies with me. but while i was running back inside, i noticed a smell in the air, and the clouds were a different color. the sky was blanketed in crimson colored clouds. they were the color of a summer sunset. the next thing that happened made me realize how insanely terrible this nightmare could (and would) be.
i woke up around 1am and made sure i was still alive. the intensity of dreams sometimes gets channeled through your subconscious and into your body. that explains why people talk, sweat, or move during dreams. after a few minutes of regaining my grip on reality, i fall back asleep. my subconscious wasnt done with me yet. the dream picks back up where it left off. when i was running back inside the store, there was the faint but corrosive smell in the air that i noticed. it was raining gasoline.
i take refuge in a restroom, picking up a fire blanket that was on the floor. i know, convenient right? the fire storm was starting outside. i cover myself with the blanket and lie completely still in the corner of the restroom. the agonizing screams of pain and help surrounded me. i was alone in the restroom and under the blanket, but the screams felt like they were next to me. people were running back inside, but they were completely engulfed in flames. they set fire to everything inside. explosions from gas tanks and cars could be heard from the outside. hurricane force winds blew some of the gasoline rain into the store. people were running, screaming, crying, praying. the extreme heat could be felt underneath the fire blanket. at any moment i was expecting to burn too. after seconds of silence, the wind stopped. so did the screams.
i woke up again. it was 5:30am. i felt nauseous. no nightmare i have ever had has made me feel that way. it was that intense. by this point, i didnt want to go back to sleep. i knew that if i did, the dream wouldnt end. on the other hand, if i wanted it to go away, i had to face it through the end. i got nothing to lose, well, except sleep. after another 20 minute struggle, i pass out again.
just like i thought, it starts where i left off. i come out from under the blanket. there's no power in the store, but the flames inside led the way. the store was completely on fire. smoke blanketed the roof. i had to get out of there before i suffocated. to be quiet honest, i cant really describe what i saw inside. everything was burned, black, and covered in soot. only the silhouette of shelfs and registers remained. i make it out the store. what i see next was one of the worst things ive ever seen, real or fake.
i run out the store. when my eyes adjusted to the light, i felt my stomach drop, my knees shake and buckle, and an ache in my heart ive never felt. the sky cleared, but it had an orange/red color to it. cars were destroyed and charbroiled. buildings were blown to pieces. some of the light poles melted. in the distance i could still hear explosions go off. the first thing on my mind was that this was it. the day finally came. the end of days. hell was making its way to earth. the four horsemen would run rampant in our realm, slaying any survivors that were left. Death's angels would make its way soon to feed off the bodies and souls of the newly departed. they were hells cleanup crew. cheap but efficient.
the smell of burning hair and flesh was in the air. so this is what the holocaust must've been like. i assess the damage done: total annihilation. i walk across the parking lot to see if there were any survivors. none. just piece of flesh and bone left behind. at this point my nose feels like its on fire. the hairs inside felt completely burned away, almost as if they melted. the stench of the bodies, hair, and gasoline made me heave plenty of times, but nothing came out. my eyes are filled with tears. it was a mixture of both tears of sadness and the fumes still in the air. still walking across the lot, i asked myself why this all happened. what is some sort of purge? could it really be the end of days? how did it rain gasoline? i walk up to the main road and look down to see how far the fire affected the area. nothing survived. smoke was emanating from homes as far as i could see. there was no hope. there were no survivors.
i walk onto the middle of the road and begin to go towards the residential area. by this point hope and faith were long gone for me. i realized that i was alone. nothing or no one made it out. feeling tired and weak, i layed down in the middle of the road. i cried a few silent tears and went to sleep. ashes were raining down and covering me like snow. i went to sleep and never woke back up.
Friday, April 4, 2014
Alina
The morning is so clear,
Your smile is my sun.
With your body here,
Our days have just begun
Everywhere I go,
I see your pretty face.
With you, time goes slow,
And my heart goes to a better place.
The taste of your lips,
They leave me wanting more.
With my arms around your hips,
Those memories I will adore.
With a soft and gentle hand,
You run it through my hair.
Our toes buried in the sand,
It's a feeling I can't compare.
Your stuck into my heart,
Your even in my dreams.
Even though we're far apart,
We're closer than it seems.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Cold Feet, Cold Hands
every once in awhile i get caught in a situation where i dont know what the fuck to do, it usually ends with a funny or awkward response from me. that situation showed its ugly face today.
i rarely go to starbucks. going to starbucks to "study" is my bullshit excuse to get out of the house and surf the net on free wifi and drink overpriced, diabetes filled coffee. anyway, i go in, get my coffee, and pull out my laptop, all while facing the entrance so i can see everyone that comes in. im paranoid like that. after a few minutes of wandering the internet, someone else comes in. now in my past experiences, whenever i see an attractive girl, i tend to not make eye contact and act like everything is normal; trying to play it cool. the thing is, my play-it-cool face is the same face i make when i dont want anyone to talk to me. i look fucking angry all the time. so i strike out on the im-interested-in-you face.
back to the story. she comes in, orders her coffee. as shes waiting, im trying to be discreet and catch a look at her. just as i look up from my laptop, i see that she looking at me. our eyes meet for a couple seconds and we both look away, a little polite smirk on our faces. the moment you get caught checking someone out. i guess i have a weakness for a pretty face. what caught me off guard was that after she gets her coffee, she proceeds to sit behind me. out of the whole fucking empty starbucks, she decides to sit behind me. if i was gonna talk to her, this was my chance.
as most of you know, im not actually one to start a conversation; to be quiet honest, it made me a little nervous she sat behind me. i felt like she was looking over my shoulder the whole time, not that i was looking at anything i shouldnt have. my brain goes into panic mode. im trying to think of something clever to say, because chicks like guys that say clever shit right? so now im over here with an attractive young lady sitting behind me, waiting for me to say something, and im just bullshitting in my head what to say. like most opportunities in my life, i did the worst thing possible. nothing. absolutely nothing. closing time came around and she gave me one last chance. she got up with all her things and pretended to throw away some trash. out of the corner of my eye i could see she was looking at me once more. again, we exchanged glances, but i said nothing.she walks out and im just sitting there. well, fuck.
now that im writing about it and reflecting on what i SHOULD have done, im noticing a pattern in myself. im not afraid of anyone or anything. im not afraid of death. but the ONE thing i am afraid of is failure and/or rejection. all my life ive been blessed with reaching my goals and having success in everything i want to do. the insecurity of knowing that rejection or failure is a possibility bothers me. and i know what most of you are thinking. life is about taking chances, and experiencing failure is part of life. to you it might be, but when your last 2 relationships end with a broken heart, especially since in my past situations i was so young, you cant help but be insecure about these things. i take relationships extremely serious. you're opening up to someone and letting them inside you, where your most vulnerable. maybe thats why i didnt say anything.
I have trust issues.
i rarely go to starbucks. going to starbucks to "study" is my bullshit excuse to get out of the house and surf the net on free wifi and drink overpriced, diabetes filled coffee. anyway, i go in, get my coffee, and pull out my laptop, all while facing the entrance so i can see everyone that comes in. im paranoid like that. after a few minutes of wandering the internet, someone else comes in. now in my past experiences, whenever i see an attractive girl, i tend to not make eye contact and act like everything is normal; trying to play it cool. the thing is, my play-it-cool face is the same face i make when i dont want anyone to talk to me. i look fucking angry all the time. so i strike out on the im-interested-in-you face.
back to the story. she comes in, orders her coffee. as shes waiting, im trying to be discreet and catch a look at her. just as i look up from my laptop, i see that she looking at me. our eyes meet for a couple seconds and we both look away, a little polite smirk on our faces. the moment you get caught checking someone out. i guess i have a weakness for a pretty face. what caught me off guard was that after she gets her coffee, she proceeds to sit behind me. out of the whole fucking empty starbucks, she decides to sit behind me. if i was gonna talk to her, this was my chance.
as most of you know, im not actually one to start a conversation; to be quiet honest, it made me a little nervous she sat behind me. i felt like she was looking over my shoulder the whole time, not that i was looking at anything i shouldnt have. my brain goes into panic mode. im trying to think of something clever to say, because chicks like guys that say clever shit right? so now im over here with an attractive young lady sitting behind me, waiting for me to say something, and im just bullshitting in my head what to say. like most opportunities in my life, i did the worst thing possible. nothing. absolutely nothing. closing time came around and she gave me one last chance. she got up with all her things and pretended to throw away some trash. out of the corner of my eye i could see she was looking at me once more. again, we exchanged glances, but i said nothing.she walks out and im just sitting there. well, fuck.
now that im writing about it and reflecting on what i SHOULD have done, im noticing a pattern in myself. im not afraid of anyone or anything. im not afraid of death. but the ONE thing i am afraid of is failure and/or rejection. all my life ive been blessed with reaching my goals and having success in everything i want to do. the insecurity of knowing that rejection or failure is a possibility bothers me. and i know what most of you are thinking. life is about taking chances, and experiencing failure is part of life. to you it might be, but when your last 2 relationships end with a broken heart, especially since in my past situations i was so young, you cant help but be insecure about these things. i take relationships extremely serious. you're opening up to someone and letting them inside you, where your most vulnerable. maybe thats why i didnt say anything.
I have trust issues.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
A Bit Closer To Heaven
it started out like the other dreams. you never remember the beginning, but the middle and end are what matter most anyway. i was in an unnamed city walking alone at night. it was winter time, snow was falling like confetti, the mix of light wind and ice peppered my face. all around, the buildings and skyscrapers intimidated me. i didnt know where i was going, but all i had in the pocket of my jacket was a lighter and a box of smokes. it was perfect smoking weather. i light one and take a long, deep drag. the nicotine hit my system like heroin in a junkie. i exhaled the stress.
the people on the streets paid no attention to me. even at this late hour of the night, the sidewalks were littered with characters. junkies, homeless, drug dealers, tourists, police, and your occasional prostitute. it felt like home. the inner city chaos was probably the reason i was there; i have a habit of observing people interact. i kept walking, leaving behind the crowd and taking a side street into an alley. the sounds of people and police sirens faded away. snow was now falling with higher intensity. by this time i was on my third cigarette, each pull i exhaled felt better than the last, so why stop now?
the alley felt like it went on forever. each step i took forward only made the exit move farther away. before i could notice, the blizzard began. i went into a full sprint towards the end. i still had a smoke in my mouth while i was running, but i noticed that it was completely frozen. i spit it out and keep going, dumpsters and aging walls turning into a blur. my face was going numb, but i could still feel the ice and snow cut my face like daggers. my fingers turned into icicles, my nose was frozen with thick ice, and my legs were getting heavier with every stride. i wanted to keep my pace but i fall. the exit out of the alley was about ten feet from where i was. crawling towards the end, it was no use. my legs were frozen solid, the ice making its way to my torso. i tried as hard as i could to make it up, but i failed. my lungs were freezing from the inside. my last gasp of air evaporated into nothing. i was within arms length of the exit but i prepared for the inevitable. i layed there like the outline of a murdered body. no pain, no agony. i died.
i dont know what this dream means. ive never had one when it happens in snow. some of the faces i do remember seeing but i dont know their names. the city felt familiar but it could be just my imagination. the dream was more terrifying than i could ever describe, its something that you have to experience. its something you should never experience.
The trick in my situation was that there was no trick, no matter what the movies tell you. No rules, no secret mantra, no road map. It wasn't about how smart or how good you were. It was chaos and luck, and anyone who thought different was a fool. All you could do was to hang on madly, as long and hard as you could.
the people on the streets paid no attention to me. even at this late hour of the night, the sidewalks were littered with characters. junkies, homeless, drug dealers, tourists, police, and your occasional prostitute. it felt like home. the inner city chaos was probably the reason i was there; i have a habit of observing people interact. i kept walking, leaving behind the crowd and taking a side street into an alley. the sounds of people and police sirens faded away. snow was now falling with higher intensity. by this time i was on my third cigarette, each pull i exhaled felt better than the last, so why stop now?
the alley felt like it went on forever. each step i took forward only made the exit move farther away. before i could notice, the blizzard began. i went into a full sprint towards the end. i still had a smoke in my mouth while i was running, but i noticed that it was completely frozen. i spit it out and keep going, dumpsters and aging walls turning into a blur. my face was going numb, but i could still feel the ice and snow cut my face like daggers. my fingers turned into icicles, my nose was frozen with thick ice, and my legs were getting heavier with every stride. i wanted to keep my pace but i fall. the exit out of the alley was about ten feet from where i was. crawling towards the end, it was no use. my legs were frozen solid, the ice making its way to my torso. i tried as hard as i could to make it up, but i failed. my lungs were freezing from the inside. my last gasp of air evaporated into nothing. i was within arms length of the exit but i prepared for the inevitable. i layed there like the outline of a murdered body. no pain, no agony. i died.
i dont know what this dream means. ive never had one when it happens in snow. some of the faces i do remember seeing but i dont know their names. the city felt familiar but it could be just my imagination. the dream was more terrifying than i could ever describe, its something that you have to experience. its something you should never experience.
The trick in my situation was that there was no trick, no matter what the movies tell you. No rules, no secret mantra, no road map. It wasn't about how smart or how good you were. It was chaos and luck, and anyone who thought different was a fool. All you could do was to hang on madly, as long and hard as you could.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
In My Darkest Hour
my brother recently had his son, about a week ago. nothing could prepare me for that moment when he came in through those gray sterile doors and announce the birth of his son. it was a moment that stays etched in your mind for all eternity. my mom and sister crying in joy, my dad was extremely happy, and my little brothers were congratulating him. everyone was happy, except me. like i said before, affection is something that im not good at showing or receiving. but this was different. this is my brother. my blood. i wanted to feel happy for him but i couldnt. at one point throughout that moment of celebration i was expecting compassion to kick in, but it never did. my emotions stood me up at the worst time.
my poker face was on the minute i stepped into the hospital. i dont like hospitals. death roamed the halls, giving the chosen few invitations to their final dance. i was sure of it. my lungs felt squeezed and my stomach felt like it was eating itself. its ironic how most people are born in a hospital and most people die in a hospital. my dreams have shown me in a hospital before, and it was never a happy ending.
am i reading too deep into my own flaws? what am i overlooking? writing about it only gets me so far. i need a 3rd party opinion. my own answers are becoming questions themselves. the simplest thought becomes a giant game of chess in my mind. that day at the hospital, my family saw the part of me that they knew existed but never wanted to witness. they saw past my mask and didnt like what they saw. they saw nothing. nothing but a serious scowl on a day that represents and means so much to them. to me, it was just another day. no joy, no hope, no love. no compassion. im not going to say that i dont care, because maybe i do. the situation doesnt affect me. it makes my life indifferent, even if its a major family event.
i was born with a talent not many people have. my brain is a sponge for knowledge. if i dont understand something, i make it my goal to find out everything i can and make myself an expert on the subject. which is probably why i obsess with everything. my mind is my own enemy. what it doesnt know it wants to learn, and what it learns is never enough. its past midnight at the moment im typing this and i have so many questions to ask. the main questions that's bothered me is the one i get asked frequently: why am i like this? what happened to me in my past that molded me into what people see me as? i dont know. and thats the part i cant figure out. i dont smile, i rarely laugh, and for some reason people tell me i look intimidating to approach. all i can answer with is "thats just who i am". genuine compassion was something i felt i could give out when i was younger. but life has taught me something. a person can only donate so much of themselves to others before they turn into the the person who needs.
my poker face was on the minute i stepped into the hospital. i dont like hospitals. death roamed the halls, giving the chosen few invitations to their final dance. i was sure of it. my lungs felt squeezed and my stomach felt like it was eating itself. its ironic how most people are born in a hospital and most people die in a hospital. my dreams have shown me in a hospital before, and it was never a happy ending.
am i reading too deep into my own flaws? what am i overlooking? writing about it only gets me so far. i need a 3rd party opinion. my own answers are becoming questions themselves. the simplest thought becomes a giant game of chess in my mind. that day at the hospital, my family saw the part of me that they knew existed but never wanted to witness. they saw past my mask and didnt like what they saw. they saw nothing. nothing but a serious scowl on a day that represents and means so much to them. to me, it was just another day. no joy, no hope, no love. no compassion. im not going to say that i dont care, because maybe i do. the situation doesnt affect me. it makes my life indifferent, even if its a major family event.
i was born with a talent not many people have. my brain is a sponge for knowledge. if i dont understand something, i make it my goal to find out everything i can and make myself an expert on the subject. which is probably why i obsess with everything. my mind is my own enemy. what it doesnt know it wants to learn, and what it learns is never enough. its past midnight at the moment im typing this and i have so many questions to ask. the main questions that's bothered me is the one i get asked frequently: why am i like this? what happened to me in my past that molded me into what people see me as? i dont know. and thats the part i cant figure out. i dont smile, i rarely laugh, and for some reason people tell me i look intimidating to approach. all i can answer with is "thats just who i am". genuine compassion was something i felt i could give out when i was younger. but life has taught me something. a person can only donate so much of themselves to others before they turn into the the person who needs.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
More Human Than Human
there are times in my life when i cant handle my own thoughts anymore. the glue that keeps me intact starts to grow weak. my psyche takes a beating to the head with a baseball bat. the insecurities that are drowned out by the poker face i put on for the world are slowly making its way to the surface. im questioning my own decisions and face the never ending drama my mind plays in my subconscious. whats happening to me? in my dreams i even have my own book: THE MAN OF A THOUSAND FACES, written by Me.
the weight of being the pretender is beginning to make me fold. i hear people's (or they tell me) horror stories of overcoming adversity all the time, the struggle they went through to achieve their goal. at the end of their story everyone applauds and hugs begin to be served out like candy, tears wiped from eyes, congratulations being given. as all this happens, im just standing there, trying find a way to sympathize. ive become so consumed by finding out whats morally right or wrong that i prefer not to choose sides. i analyze every situation and try to find the correct approach, but like life, its never easy. i finally came to a conclusion: i dont care. sympathy is a word thats lost its place and meaning in my vocabulary. instead of looking at a possible positive outcome, i immediately pick at the negative. "bad things happen to stupid people, they deserved it, what did they think was going to happen" what does all that say about me and the type of person i am? even THAT'S bothering me. im actually taking into consideration what people think about me. i want to be accepted but at the same time, i dont. i want to fit in, but i cant. the unnecessary drama that comes from friendships or any social contact are part of the reason i cant handle it. i dont have patience for that, nor the tolerance.
the dreams are getting out of hand. over the last few days ive had terrible nightmares. in the first one, i lose all my teeth and my mouth becomes grotesquely disfigured. another night, i dreamed i was a police officer in a life or death situation. i lived, but at the expense of someone else. A lot of people say God talks to you in your dreams. if thats true, i would like to ask him why my dreams are becoming progressively violent as the days wear on. what do these dreams mean? what is my subconscious trying to tell me? these dreams arent some mathematical equation i can just try and figure out. im losing more and more sleep because i dont know what i'll be dreaming about that night. im afraid of what i'll see, but i think the dreams are the opinions i have but never speak of. im not sure. maybe i'll visit a psychic and they can tell me something i dont already know.
even the things i thought i had gotten over are rising from the dead. the lack of support from my family in things i do, past friends going down a direct road to failure, and to me the most stupid ( and childish in my opinion) emotion that has haunted me: the lack of affection. the lack of affection is something i thought i could bury behind books, hobbies, exercise, etc. but its the only one constant when you want to understand someone. with affection you need sympathy, with sympathy you have understanding, with understanding you have connection, with connection, well, you feel something i havent privileged much. i have never been an affectionate person and i never did like people showing me affection. but like any rule, there are exceptions. the times that i let affection happen, they came from people i was comfortable with, from people i care about. they are the ones that see past my mask, the ones who know who i really am and how to get the best out of me. i know that im capable of love, ive felt it before. the unexplainable feeling of euphoria in your stomach knowing when someone tells you it will be alright, and you believe them. its a privilege ive rarely experienced, but the memory of what it felt like is what makes me appreciate it. the rare times my parents have told me are moments i hang on to, not only because theyre my parents, but because i know its hard for them as well. they always compared me to someone else and never truly believed in my potential, but i see that all they wanted was for me to be someone they could be proud of. " Im proud of you". even to this day, those four elusive words i have yet to hear.
everyone wants to be accepted, im no exception. but i know my maze runs deeper than what it looks. objects in mirror are closer than they appear, and thats how i feel. my problem may not be finding the answer, but the answer itself.
"There's nothing more frustrating than solving a puzzle, than finding out it still doesn't make sense"
- Dexter
the weight of being the pretender is beginning to make me fold. i hear people's (or they tell me) horror stories of overcoming adversity all the time, the struggle they went through to achieve their goal. at the end of their story everyone applauds and hugs begin to be served out like candy, tears wiped from eyes, congratulations being given. as all this happens, im just standing there, trying find a way to sympathize. ive become so consumed by finding out whats morally right or wrong that i prefer not to choose sides. i analyze every situation and try to find the correct approach, but like life, its never easy. i finally came to a conclusion: i dont care. sympathy is a word thats lost its place and meaning in my vocabulary. instead of looking at a possible positive outcome, i immediately pick at the negative. "bad things happen to stupid people, they deserved it, what did they think was going to happen" what does all that say about me and the type of person i am? even THAT'S bothering me. im actually taking into consideration what people think about me. i want to be accepted but at the same time, i dont. i want to fit in, but i cant. the unnecessary drama that comes from friendships or any social contact are part of the reason i cant handle it. i dont have patience for that, nor the tolerance.
the dreams are getting out of hand. over the last few days ive had terrible nightmares. in the first one, i lose all my teeth and my mouth becomes grotesquely disfigured. another night, i dreamed i was a police officer in a life or death situation. i lived, but at the expense of someone else. A lot of people say God talks to you in your dreams. if thats true, i would like to ask him why my dreams are becoming progressively violent as the days wear on. what do these dreams mean? what is my subconscious trying to tell me? these dreams arent some mathematical equation i can just try and figure out. im losing more and more sleep because i dont know what i'll be dreaming about that night. im afraid of what i'll see, but i think the dreams are the opinions i have but never speak of. im not sure. maybe i'll visit a psychic and they can tell me something i dont already know.
even the things i thought i had gotten over are rising from the dead. the lack of support from my family in things i do, past friends going down a direct road to failure, and to me the most stupid ( and childish in my opinion) emotion that has haunted me: the lack of affection. the lack of affection is something i thought i could bury behind books, hobbies, exercise, etc. but its the only one constant when you want to understand someone. with affection you need sympathy, with sympathy you have understanding, with understanding you have connection, with connection, well, you feel something i havent privileged much. i have never been an affectionate person and i never did like people showing me affection. but like any rule, there are exceptions. the times that i let affection happen, they came from people i was comfortable with, from people i care about. they are the ones that see past my mask, the ones who know who i really am and how to get the best out of me. i know that im capable of love, ive felt it before. the unexplainable feeling of euphoria in your stomach knowing when someone tells you it will be alright, and you believe them. its a privilege ive rarely experienced, but the memory of what it felt like is what makes me appreciate it. the rare times my parents have told me are moments i hang on to, not only because theyre my parents, but because i know its hard for them as well. they always compared me to someone else and never truly believed in my potential, but i see that all they wanted was for me to be someone they could be proud of. " Im proud of you". even to this day, those four elusive words i have yet to hear.
everyone wants to be accepted, im no exception. but i know my maze runs deeper than what it looks. objects in mirror are closer than they appear, and thats how i feel. my problem may not be finding the answer, but the answer itself.
"There's nothing more frustrating than solving a puzzle, than finding out it still doesn't make sense"
- Dexter
Monday, February 17, 2014
Honesty
put yourself in a compromising position. if you lie to someone about certain situation to spare their feelings, arent you doing more bad than good? but if you say nothing and they found out you knew, your looked at as a traitor and disloyal. what do you do? what do you do when you see an accident about to happen and you have the power to stop it, but at the expense of someones safety? do you let 1 die to save 3? do you cut off the finger to save the hand?
what most people see as pessimism in me i see as common sense. ive learned how to be a clear thinker, emotions no match for my developed judgement. i didnt get this way overnight though. years of experience and meticulous social research have all brought me to the same conclusion: there are no happy endings in life. the sooner you accept it, the sooner you can embrace the vast amount of knowledge you never knew existed. at a young age, i realized people were too sensitive to have their opinion criticized, no matter who you are in society. everyone fears social acceptance, yet they do whatever they can to be noticed or acknowledged. you see an example of these kind of people everywhere, theyre what we call the "cool" kids. the kids you hear about earning minimum wage for the rest of their lives. i made it a hobbie to put these kids into place. every time they opened their mouth i always followed them up with something sarcastic and insulting, but subtle enough they didnt realize what i said. they never did notice, but everyone else did. thats when it began. my open opinions and the sarcastic answers were all part of role i was playing. i was so good people even gave me a nickname: asshole.
how did i get this way you ask? imagine, living most of your life as a shadow. the random guy at the party who looks lost and out of place. some people i know since 3rd grade dont even know my name, and i went to middle school and high school with them. i at least have the courtesy of knowing their full name and something memorable about them. after moving high schools, this hobbie of mine became a full addiction. by the time it became part of my personality, it had spread through me like cancer. as a kid your taught that if you dont have anything nice to say, dont say anything. i thought the opposite. people need to hear your honest opinion, not only because you want to put them in their place, but because people need a reality check. sometimes you have to destroy someone so bad they reflect on themselves. in the long run, theyll see the hidden message. i learned not to get emotionally attached to anything or anyone, im still afraid of how vulnerable i can still be.
no one has ever cared about what i had to say. not at home, school, work , but i learned to live with it and accept it. as a teen i didnt know how to approach anyone i knew and talk about what i wanted to say. for me its hard enough to make friends, let alone being comfortable telling someone not well known to me. i felt like i could manage on my own, because c'mon, what kind guy talks about his feelings right? i became desensitized to what was vulgar and offensive. my answers always had a sarcastic, matter of fact kind of tone. i evolved into a know it all. the ultimate front for the insecure, or in my case, the sadist. the main reason i am the way i am is simple. i like seeing people suffer emotionally from my answers and forcing people to open their minds. the people that look for my honest opinions will tell you that i dont hold back. common sense is what i live by, not what the heart wants.
what most people see as pessimism in me i see as common sense. ive learned how to be a clear thinker, emotions no match for my developed judgement. i didnt get this way overnight though. years of experience and meticulous social research have all brought me to the same conclusion: there are no happy endings in life. the sooner you accept it, the sooner you can embrace the vast amount of knowledge you never knew existed. at a young age, i realized people were too sensitive to have their opinion criticized, no matter who you are in society. everyone fears social acceptance, yet they do whatever they can to be noticed or acknowledged. you see an example of these kind of people everywhere, theyre what we call the "cool" kids. the kids you hear about earning minimum wage for the rest of their lives. i made it a hobbie to put these kids into place. every time they opened their mouth i always followed them up with something sarcastic and insulting, but subtle enough they didnt realize what i said. they never did notice, but everyone else did. thats when it began. my open opinions and the sarcastic answers were all part of role i was playing. i was so good people even gave me a nickname: asshole.
how did i get this way you ask? imagine, living most of your life as a shadow. the random guy at the party who looks lost and out of place. some people i know since 3rd grade dont even know my name, and i went to middle school and high school with them. i at least have the courtesy of knowing their full name and something memorable about them. after moving high schools, this hobbie of mine became a full addiction. by the time it became part of my personality, it had spread through me like cancer. as a kid your taught that if you dont have anything nice to say, dont say anything. i thought the opposite. people need to hear your honest opinion, not only because you want to put them in their place, but because people need a reality check. sometimes you have to destroy someone so bad they reflect on themselves. in the long run, theyll see the hidden message. i learned not to get emotionally attached to anything or anyone, im still afraid of how vulnerable i can still be.
no one has ever cared about what i had to say. not at home, school, work , but i learned to live with it and accept it. as a teen i didnt know how to approach anyone i knew and talk about what i wanted to say. for me its hard enough to make friends, let alone being comfortable telling someone not well known to me. i felt like i could manage on my own, because c'mon, what kind guy talks about his feelings right? i became desensitized to what was vulgar and offensive. my answers always had a sarcastic, matter of fact kind of tone. i evolved into a know it all. the ultimate front for the insecure, or in my case, the sadist. the main reason i am the way i am is simple. i like seeing people suffer emotionally from my answers and forcing people to open their minds. the people that look for my honest opinions will tell you that i dont hold back. common sense is what i live by, not what the heart wants.
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Put A Ring On It
back again.
i couldnt stay away for too long. the sudden urges to write, reading 3 books at once, words and letters swirling around in my head like alphabet soup. i was bound to relapse. writing has been and always will be my drug of choice.
10:37pm. my laptop, a cup of coffee, and a playlist of music that most would consider murderous jargon. i think of it as relaxing meditation for the morbid curiosity. cant say ive always been this way. im not going to waste time trying to find someone, something, or a life event to blame my social detachment to what most consider "normal". this is my therapy session and my sanctuary. years of being an outsider have prepared me to face the challenges of keeping up this front that i have. no, i dont have anything to hide. the front is for your own protection. youre not gonna like what you see on the other side.
horror movies and books on the path through hell and finding eternal salvation are my new interest. i do believe in god, but not religion. the bible? its nothing more than a book of bedtime stories. how is it you can believe that a man walked on water, fed thousands with only a piece of bread, and cured the sick? But you cant believe in any of the greek, roman, or asian mythology stories that their respected societies beliefs come from? the bible is just a metaphor for human beings teaching what is and isnt socially acceptable. nothing more. studies show that the smarter you are the less likely you believe in a supreme being. since the beginning of time, anything that a human did not understand, they saw as a miracle, until science and math proved it. in sir isaac newtons time, it was understood as fact that the earth was flat, the heavens were in the clouds, and that the earth was the at the center of the universe. sir isaac proved all of them wrong. he proved through algebra and astronomy that what they thought to be fact was indeed false. believers didnt want to accept it, so they viewed science and astronomy as threats to their faith. this still goes on today.
the dreams are on their way back. one of them started today. dreams have a interesting way of starting out, you never remember the beginning. in this dream though, im laying on the cold, damp floor in a dimly lit room. i couldnt see the walls around me, but i could see the outline of a metal prison door. i think i was in solitary confinement. the odd part was that i was wearing civilian clothes, not a prison jumpsuit.i try to lift myself up with my hands, but an unbearable pain shot through me. still laying down, i looked at my right hand. my ring finger had been cut clean off. i wasnt bleeding, but the searing pain was almost unbearble. my finger was laying next to me. to my amazement, it had a ring on it. i use my left hand to take off the ring, and thats when i woke up. at the exact moment i woke up, i had an...undescribable feeling on the finger that had been amputated, almost pain like. what could it mean? is it a sign of things to come? im not married and i have no interest in getting married. but why the ring and the mutilation? who was i married to? with every answer i find, 2 more questions arise.
i havent rambled like that in so long. the self gratification that comes from writing is intoxicating to me. knowing that i write and people read is an accomplishment in itself. the ultimate for of self expression. every key stroke, every pause in between sentences, every sip of coffee that i take brings back a feeling of nostalgia that only a few things do to me. everything has its consequences though. i can already feel the insomnia seeping in through the keyboard, into my fingers, and making its final stop in my brain. i hope i can regain some of the writing talent that i thought i once had. this isnt my personal diary/journal. this a window. a door into my soul. a place where every answer yields more questions.
i couldnt stay away for too long. the sudden urges to write, reading 3 books at once, words and letters swirling around in my head like alphabet soup. i was bound to relapse. writing has been and always will be my drug of choice.
10:37pm. my laptop, a cup of coffee, and a playlist of music that most would consider murderous jargon. i think of it as relaxing meditation for the morbid curiosity. cant say ive always been this way. im not going to waste time trying to find someone, something, or a life event to blame my social detachment to what most consider "normal". this is my therapy session and my sanctuary. years of being an outsider have prepared me to face the challenges of keeping up this front that i have. no, i dont have anything to hide. the front is for your own protection. youre not gonna like what you see on the other side.
horror movies and books on the path through hell and finding eternal salvation are my new interest. i do believe in god, but not religion. the bible? its nothing more than a book of bedtime stories. how is it you can believe that a man walked on water, fed thousands with only a piece of bread, and cured the sick? But you cant believe in any of the greek, roman, or asian mythology stories that their respected societies beliefs come from? the bible is just a metaphor for human beings teaching what is and isnt socially acceptable. nothing more. studies show that the smarter you are the less likely you believe in a supreme being. since the beginning of time, anything that a human did not understand, they saw as a miracle, until science and math proved it. in sir isaac newtons time, it was understood as fact that the earth was flat, the heavens were in the clouds, and that the earth was the at the center of the universe. sir isaac proved all of them wrong. he proved through algebra and astronomy that what they thought to be fact was indeed false. believers didnt want to accept it, so they viewed science and astronomy as threats to their faith. this still goes on today.
the dreams are on their way back. one of them started today. dreams have a interesting way of starting out, you never remember the beginning. in this dream though, im laying on the cold, damp floor in a dimly lit room. i couldnt see the walls around me, but i could see the outline of a metal prison door. i think i was in solitary confinement. the odd part was that i was wearing civilian clothes, not a prison jumpsuit.i try to lift myself up with my hands, but an unbearable pain shot through me. still laying down, i looked at my right hand. my ring finger had been cut clean off. i wasnt bleeding, but the searing pain was almost unbearble. my finger was laying next to me. to my amazement, it had a ring on it. i use my left hand to take off the ring, and thats when i woke up. at the exact moment i woke up, i had an...undescribable feeling on the finger that had been amputated, almost pain like. what could it mean? is it a sign of things to come? im not married and i have no interest in getting married. but why the ring and the mutilation? who was i married to? with every answer i find, 2 more questions arise.
i havent rambled like that in so long. the self gratification that comes from writing is intoxicating to me. knowing that i write and people read is an accomplishment in itself. the ultimate for of self expression. every key stroke, every pause in between sentences, every sip of coffee that i take brings back a feeling of nostalgia that only a few things do to me. everything has its consequences though. i can already feel the insomnia seeping in through the keyboard, into my fingers, and making its final stop in my brain. i hope i can regain some of the writing talent that i thought i once had. this isnt my personal diary/journal. this a window. a door into my soul. a place where every answer yields more questions.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Quisiera Ser
i havent written anything in so long. alot of my plans have changed already and we're barely in february still. current mood. content with what i have, and grateful for my future.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Work In Progress
hopefully i have time to write something soon. i'm in some dire need of some writing therapy.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Back At It
so here i am. back at it again. i guess my 2 month hiatus from anything blog related has come to an end. i feel like such a hypocrite but oh well. im back and writing random shit to my leisure. how has everybody been?
these past two months have been, well, uneventful but nonetheless important. ive gotten alot done in that time frame.although i am broke as fuck, but hey, im still breathing. i know writing hasnt been my top priority throughout this time but now i wish to make it up. and for some odd reason ive been in such an inquisitive mood in just about anything literature related. ill save that story for another post. right now im just trying to focus on writing for the sake of writing. these first few posts will seem like complete shit and me just rambling, but bear with me, im a little rusty.
2013 is here. new year, new goals, new problems. this is the year that will define the rest of my life. next month i will be taking the first of many trips to my native Los Angeles. only this time, im going on business. i will be taking my first exam to join the LAPD. thats right. im gonna be a cop. the road is long and tedious, but i have the will and determination to see my journey out. i just reread that last sentence that i wrote, and it sounds so fucking gay, that im not even going to delete it.
the real reason i came back to write on here wasnt because i missed writing rants about random shit and how i lost all hope in humanity. no. im here because i need alot of practice writing again. the test im taking next month is the written portion. theyre going to test my writing ability to see how well i can put a police report together. hopefully they dont pull some shit on me where i study hard as fuck with some practice questions, only to give me something completely different. and you know im serious about something when i say im going to study. i almost NEVER studied for any tests in my life. my philosophy is: if you didnt understand it the first time, chances are you wont understand it the next. true story.
oh i almost forgot, i wont be riding solo. my mom and baby brother are tagging along as my support team. its been 8 years since they last went to SoCal, so i told my mom as a belated christmas gift i would pay airfare for her, and she could pay for my brother. 4 day weekend in my hometown? with my mom? sounds like the perfect mini vacation.
these past two months have been, well, uneventful but nonetheless important. ive gotten alot done in that time frame.although i am broke as fuck, but hey, im still breathing. i know writing hasnt been my top priority throughout this time but now i wish to make it up. and for some odd reason ive been in such an inquisitive mood in just about anything literature related. ill save that story for another post. right now im just trying to focus on writing for the sake of writing. these first few posts will seem like complete shit and me just rambling, but bear with me, im a little rusty.
2013 is here. new year, new goals, new problems. this is the year that will define the rest of my life. next month i will be taking the first of many trips to my native Los Angeles. only this time, im going on business. i will be taking my first exam to join the LAPD. thats right. im gonna be a cop. the road is long and tedious, but i have the will and determination to see my journey out. i just reread that last sentence that i wrote, and it sounds so fucking gay, that im not even going to delete it.
the real reason i came back to write on here wasnt because i missed writing rants about random shit and how i lost all hope in humanity. no. im here because i need alot of practice writing again. the test im taking next month is the written portion. theyre going to test my writing ability to see how well i can put a police report together. hopefully they dont pull some shit on me where i study hard as fuck with some practice questions, only to give me something completely different. and you know im serious about something when i say im going to study. i almost NEVER studied for any tests in my life. my philosophy is: if you didnt understand it the first time, chances are you wont understand it the next. true story.
oh i almost forgot, i wont be riding solo. my mom and baby brother are tagging along as my support team. its been 8 years since they last went to SoCal, so i told my mom as a belated christmas gift i would pay airfare for her, and she could pay for my brother. 4 day weekend in my hometown? with my mom? sounds like the perfect mini vacation.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Loneliness Is Underrated
to whom this may concern,
fuck it i'll get straight to the point. over the course of these last couple of months ive felt lonelier than ive ever been. this is due to the fact that i spend more time in my head than i am in reality. im stressing over things that i can take my time on. i always put everyone else before me, and i will continue to do that, but this time i have to come first. i have alot at stake at the moment, and i cant afford to mess up. if anyone that i know is reading this, thanks for reading. seeing on my stats that people really do read my entries makes me happy. you really do make a difference. unfortunaely, the severity of my loneliness is whats keeping me from sleeping at night. how i will fix that, im not sure yet, but i always find a way. self realization is a painful experience that i wish no one has to go through, but it helps you grow. this post will be just that.
i knew i had a problem. i was very well aware of it. i just didnt know how severe it was. i was on vacation recently. i wanted to go out and go to museums and to parks and all other kinds of bullshit. it was a friday, so i decided to go out to the store and pick up a few CD's. by this time it was barely 11am, and i had done everything i needed to that day. thats when it hit me. i started to drive out west, and during the whole time, i thought to myself, i have absolutely no one to talk to or hang out with. that was one of the ugliest feelings ive ever felt. this whole week went to waste and i had done absolutely nothing. i had no one to visit, had no one to talk to, nothing. emptiness took over and filled me up like a bottle of water. how far gone had i been to realize this until now?
that's part of the reason why im here writing my ass off. maturity is starting to kick in and im learning how to prioritize my life. another part is that i have to focus on myself instead of trying to write something that doesnt apply to me. ive written about the same subject too many times. every time i write on here my mind goes back to memories that i would much rather forget. part of the reason i started to write on here was to help me get over a few things that had been bothering me. again, unfortunately its done just the opposite. my inability to overcome these memories and emotions just further solidify my reason to stop writing. i will still leave this blog up so people can read past posts, and once in awhile, i will return to check up on it. with that being said, take this post as the obituary to my blog, because as of today, i will no longer be writing anything, anywhere. maybe forever.
fuck it i'll get straight to the point. over the course of these last couple of months ive felt lonelier than ive ever been. this is due to the fact that i spend more time in my head than i am in reality. im stressing over things that i can take my time on. i always put everyone else before me, and i will continue to do that, but this time i have to come first. i have alot at stake at the moment, and i cant afford to mess up. if anyone that i know is reading this, thanks for reading. seeing on my stats that people really do read my entries makes me happy. you really do make a difference. unfortunaely, the severity of my loneliness is whats keeping me from sleeping at night. how i will fix that, im not sure yet, but i always find a way. self realization is a painful experience that i wish no one has to go through, but it helps you grow. this post will be just that.
i knew i had a problem. i was very well aware of it. i just didnt know how severe it was. i was on vacation recently. i wanted to go out and go to museums and to parks and all other kinds of bullshit. it was a friday, so i decided to go out to the store and pick up a few CD's. by this time it was barely 11am, and i had done everything i needed to that day. thats when it hit me. i started to drive out west, and during the whole time, i thought to myself, i have absolutely no one to talk to or hang out with. that was one of the ugliest feelings ive ever felt. this whole week went to waste and i had done absolutely nothing. i had no one to visit, had no one to talk to, nothing. emptiness took over and filled me up like a bottle of water. how far gone had i been to realize this until now?
that's part of the reason why im here writing my ass off. maturity is starting to kick in and im learning how to prioritize my life. another part is that i have to focus on myself instead of trying to write something that doesnt apply to me. ive written about the same subject too many times. every time i write on here my mind goes back to memories that i would much rather forget. part of the reason i started to write on here was to help me get over a few things that had been bothering me. again, unfortunately its done just the opposite. my inability to overcome these memories and emotions just further solidify my reason to stop writing. i will still leave this blog up so people can read past posts, and once in awhile, i will return to check up on it. with that being said, take this post as the obituary to my blog, because as of today, i will no longer be writing anything, anywhere. maybe forever.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
500 Days Of Summer
i highly recommend this indie classic. a story of boy meets girl, boy falls in love, girl doesnt.
alot of people can connect with this movie. raw, real, and pretty fucking funny.
alot of people can connect with this movie. raw, real, and pretty fucking funny.
Monday, November 5, 2012
...........................
all i have to say is
worst. vacation. EVER.
i dont even want to talk about it.......
worst. vacation. EVER.
i dont even want to talk about it.......
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Sight I See
i saw you out there in the street,
your smile as bright as ever.
it brought warmth to my soul,
ive waited for this moment forever.
i keep my distance away from you,
i savor the moment till we meet.
composing a message to give to you,
your loveliness the first thing i'll greet.
i think about the golden years,
how we would confess our fears.
smiling like there's no tomorrow,
just living on the time we borrow.
accompanied by your smaller self,
things have changed since we went our ways.
all of a sudden i stop myself,
its better off to see you another day.
you walk across the street,
the moment just seems too strange.
your happy in this phase of life,
and i dont want that to change.
i watch you from a distance,
and enjoy the sight i see.
because in my heart i know,
you're better off forgetting me.
writing mode. pretty depressed right now. oh well. another day. another entry. more to come. alot more. alot in my head at the moment.
your smile as bright as ever.
it brought warmth to my soul,
ive waited for this moment forever.
i keep my distance away from you,
i savor the moment till we meet.
composing a message to give to you,
your loveliness the first thing i'll greet.
i think about the golden years,
how we would confess our fears.
smiling like there's no tomorrow,
just living on the time we borrow.
accompanied by your smaller self,
things have changed since we went our ways.
all of a sudden i stop myself,
its better off to see you another day.
you walk across the street,
the moment just seems too strange.
your happy in this phase of life,
and i dont want that to change.
i watch you from a distance,
and enjoy the sight i see.
because in my heart i know,
you're better off forgetting me.
writing mode. pretty depressed right now. oh well. another day. another entry. more to come. alot more. alot in my head at the moment.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Life Is A Trip
it starts out last tuesday. i was just browsing through facebook when i read a post a OLD friend put up. FLOOR SEAT TICKETS TO THE RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS FOR SALE! i immediately called her up and told her i was more than happy to get them off her hands. it just so happens that the past month i was looking for tickets. and the cheapest i found was $250 each. saturday came and the rest was history. ever since the show, i realized how everything came into place. god knew how bad i wanted to see them live. RHCP is tied for #1 on my favorite bands list next to legendary Guns N' Roses.
the concert was everything and more that i hoped for. frontman anthony kiedis ran around stage like he was still in his 20's, when in reality, he's turning 50 november 1st. he sounds even better live. i do miss john frusciante on guitar though. he brought soul and depth into their live performances, but josh did a wonderful job playing all of their older hits. flea is just a monster on bass, he plays as funky as they can come, and he by far is the craziest one in the band. last but not least, chad smith has to be one of the baddest ass drummers i have ever seen. at first glance you will definitely confuse him for will ferrell. they look like exact twins. never missing a beat and improvising like a true professional.
their setlist consisted of a mix of old and new. rain dance maggie and look around were present. of course under the bridge, cant stop, by the way, and around the world were among the fan favorites. the 2 songs i almost cried to were californication and............scar tissue. when i heard the opening lick for scar tissue, i had this overwhelming feeling of joy and sadness. this song is the anthem of my life, and i finally heard it live. ive been a fan since 99 when the cd Californication came out. i was 8 years old. im 21 now, and finally hearing it come through kiedis's live vocals was almost a little too much for me. it was that beautiful.
this concert meant much more to me than just another night out. RHCP has been the basis to alot of the poems i write here. some of the posts on here come directly from their song titles, and after this show, expect alot more to come. creativity has been my main outlet to let my voice be heard, even if nobody is there. music is such a beautiful thing. sure, most of what i hear today is total garbage, but i have a huge respect to all musicians out there. im one too. and if youve been reading my posts, all of you know just how important music is to me. the air that i breathe, the blood in my veins, the nerves to my brain. music is all that and so much more to me.
 | |||||||||||
| Anthony Kiedis |
Minor Thing
on the road to find the way,
to fortune, money, music, fame.
saturday night we go to play,
cause music is my aeroplane.
sold out show to see the best,
floor seats sold to pay my rent.
the music puts the soul to rest,
the lyrics seeming heaven sent.
long lines in the humid breeze,
cant stop dancing on the floor.
sing the hits the crowd you please,
from the super rich to the dirt poor.
smiles and applause,
the unity of every nation.
the music is our cause,
we define californication.
writing for the sake of fun,
lyrics done to the crowds appeal.
venice queen out in the sun,
scar tissue that will never heal.
leaving with a smile for me,
the stadium all in unison sing.
inspiration for all to see,
its just a minor thing, and im a minor king.
i love writing for fun again! i feel so liberated! and im ridiculously happy at this moment. all the words in bold are actually songs from the Red Hot Chili Peppers. check them out. to me, Minor Thing is a feel good song that i listen too when driving around. seeing them live, i can die happy now.
to fortune, money, music, fame.
saturday night we go to play,
cause music is my aeroplane.
sold out show to see the best,
floor seats sold to pay my rent.
the music puts the soul to rest,
the lyrics seeming heaven sent.
long lines in the humid breeze,
cant stop dancing on the floor.
sing the hits the crowd you please,
from the super rich to the dirt poor.
smiles and applause,
the unity of every nation.
the music is our cause,
we define californication.
writing for the sake of fun,
lyrics done to the crowds appeal.
venice queen out in the sun,
scar tissue that will never heal.
leaving with a smile for me,
the stadium all in unison sing.
inspiration for all to see,
its just a minor thing, and im a minor king.
i love writing for fun again! i feel so liberated! and im ridiculously happy at this moment. all the words in bold are actually songs from the Red Hot Chili Peppers. check them out. to me, Minor Thing is a feel good song that i listen too when driving around. seeing them live, i can die happy now.
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