Filed under: Uncategorized
I’m moving to tumblr, cause that shit is dope.
PEACE!
Filed under: Race
peep game:
:F drooling
8F seeing a hot girl/rapist face
:Q smoking a cigarette/cool ass toothpick in yo mouth
:A hella sideways smile/chatty
:B two tongues sticking out
8B ultimate rapist face
<:U hella scared
:H lion face
Filed under: Thoughts
But before I do that:
How the fuck do things change so drastically in the course of a few weeks? I’m taken aback by it. One thing ends, another chapter begins. It’s kinda fantastic. However, my academic performance has been suffering IMMENSELY; I need to find some sort of balance. Right now. So difficult.
I’ve never been this happy/scared in my life. You always envision these picture-perfect scenarios that you don’t think will ever happen anywhere other than on the silver screen, and then somehow it kinda happens. How do you react? I don’t know. And we’re both dealing with it in the exact same way. Everything is so unreal right now, and though I don’t know what this means, I like it. It all sounds so corny and cliched, and I’m neither corny nor cliched. But that’s what it is, seriously. More dessert, please.
–
I’m too much of a pussy to say something like this to you in person (partially cause we haven’t talked in a while and were never even that close to begin with), but who knows. If you don’t end up reading this and realizing that this is for you, then it’s whatever. I’ll see you soon anyway.
You are a beautiful person. I still don’t know you as well as I’ve always wanted to–always–but despite this, I can already tell that you’re without a doubt one of the most beautiful people I know. And I don’t say these things because of what’s going on in your life right now–or the fact that it could end your life. I’ve always viewed you in this way, and I want you to know that it couldn’t have made me sadder that you would be the one who would have to come to terms with this. I’m very perceptive about people. There are certain people in my life that I know will be the ones who make life more enjoyable to live. And it’s not like all of these people are close friends of mine; sometimes you just know who you want to be in your life. I’m not sure if this makes much sense. But you have always been one of those people. I know you don’t want pity comments or offerings of help that you don’t need. I’m not here to do that to you. I just wanna say this: I want you to live. So badly. That probably sounds a little weird, I know, but hopefully you know where I’m coming from.
Just know that while you’re out there fighting this thing, you are on my mind and I’m always hopeful that I’ll be able to see you again in the future.
Filed under: Uncategorized
You said WHAT?
About ME?
Get
Over
Yourself.
I certainly am.
Filed under: Uncategorized
I think we’re all just so different.
Filed under: Uncategorized
I feel a thought vomit coming. I wrote a similar post earlier but I decided it was way too personal to make public. So here are the less personal thoughts.
I’m supposed to be writing a paper that’s already late, but in the past hour I’ve probably written about 4 sentences. I’m feeling strange. I feel like I’m at a weird place in my life right now (maybe I always feel like this?). I realize that in the past year, I’ve changed a lot of things about myself, and there are lots of reasons to be optimistic because of that. The past four sentences began with the letter I. And yet, there’s this lingering feeling of discontent whenever I’m by myself, and it sucks. When I really take a look at myself, I see so many things that I’m happy about. This sounds strange, I know, but what I mean is this: I think we all strive to be better people, in whatever ways we are flawed, and in that sense, I like how far I’ve come. I consider myself a late bloomer of sorts (not physically, assholes) and many aspects of my person have changed in the past few years.
Yet, so many outside factors have remained stagnant, and it’s like no matter how hard I try to change those things, no matter how close I come, eventually my life will revert back to the way it was before. It’s as if God is toying with me, telling me that my ability to control my own life is limited. Yes, I still believe in a god. And it’s not even like I don’t try, but it’s like certain things will always remain the same, unless some drastic life change occurs. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so eager to move out of the house. Cause no matter how far along I come as a person, I need to be in new places, see new faces. I love all ya’ll, but I’ve learned that I can’t depend on the familiar to keep me satisfied–not all the time, that is. Consider my circumstances though. I live with my parents, I attend a community college in which most people are just trying to get the hell out, and my social circles are not set in stone. These are not good things. At least, not to me. And sometimes I feel like I simultaneously made the right and wrong choice to come back to the city (not that I would have wanted to stay at wack ass Calvin, but still).
Someone close to me said that I think too much. Perhaps this is true, but I see it differently. I think the reason why I’ve only been able to make real connections with so few people is because I’m able to see so many things in life in ways that many people I know cannot. And when I say “real,” I mean feeling like I’m constantly on the same page as someone. This rarely happens, because so few people I know verbally express their observations of all the nuances and dynamics of things in life, whether it be relationships, reasons for someone’s behavior, etc. in the same way I do. Even amongst my closest friends, I can only count a few people who are on the same wavelength as me. So I know that I’m not thinking about things too much, because when I talk with these people, it’s like a massive sigh of relief because we both thought no one else sees the things that are so apparent to us. Does that make sense? I don’t know. If this all sounds elitist to you, it really isn’t like that. I just observe and analyze things very well. And you can imagine how much I notice about myself. Sometimes it causes me to be very self-absorbed, and things I don’t like about myself or my life will really bother me. This trickles down to other parts of my life: romance, friendships, family, work, etc. I notice so many things about people that it’s sometimes hard for me to be optimistic about anyone.
And yet I find myself overly optimistic about things I don’t expect or want myself to be. Like love. I don’t like talking about love very much, mostly because I’m so much more mindful these days to see romance in a more realistic light. I’ve come to the point where I feel like I’ve really learned from past experiences, and the applications work. Let me put it this way: I know what I’m doing, most of the time. But deep down there will always be a part of me that just wants to be in love, and sometimes that side of me is exposed way too easily. I ultimately want to be in love–and just look at what that does to us. We give ourselves away too easily, and set ourselves up for disappointment. Shit is wack. This is when I know I’m not that strong. And I hate it.
Perhaps it’s God again.
Peace
Filed under: Uncategorized
We had two unlabeled bottles in our shower. One of them shampoo, one conditioner. Apparently, my dad has been using the shampoo as body wash this whole time.
–
It’s been getting easier pretending that something doesn’t exist. It’s just hard to realize that now I’m the only one who cares. I think I need to reevaluate what I’m doing, even if it’s hard.
This isn’t me. Or at least it shouldn’t be me anymore.
None of this is on me, yet everything controls me.
–
Been working out more, feels pretty good.
Eh, I actually don’t have much to say.
Peace.
Filed under: Uncategorized
wanna say everything now, off the top of the dome but
can’t decide what to let out my mouth
so i let the smoke do the talking
you see, if i could explain myself without sounding like this or that
i would
but fuck
Filed under: Friends, God, Happenings, Nothing, Race, Thoughts, Thoughts that probably only make sense to me, World
Sunday morning, 5:00AM. I can’t sleep.
I have a couple of things I need to write about.
This is what’s keeping me up: I have no idea what the fuck is going on.
Let me elaborate.
Everything has changed so drastically, and for those of you who are aware of recent events involving a certain person I know, it’s not just that. I had no idea that the things I considered to be most consistent and solid in my life could be so..fickle. Maybe it’s just been a bad few weeks, but I feel like a lot of things in my life have collapsed out of nowhere, and it sucks huge dick. Like Caananite dick.
It gets me thinking about things my parents have been telling me for years, things I never really heeded, but should have. Parents end up being right a lot of the time; I don’t like how that works. They’ve been lecturing me for ages on how I place too much value in the people around me and the time I spend with them; that I should focus on building up my own life because in a few years those people may not be around to help me. It sounds kinda fucked up, and is something we never really want to admit, but the possibility is always there. Now, I know they are right, but, here’s the thing: I can’t be one of those people who have no trouble or qualms about staying in on a regular basis, home alone, watching TV and letting things pass me by. There’s a reason why I could never picture myself living in a non-urban environment. I can’t be like that. And it’s wack, because that means I always need people and things to do. And unless you’re of a league of extraordinarily like-minded people, chances are that the friends you want to be there for you on a regular basis–for you to fall back on–will not always be there.*
Perhaps I’ve just been dealt a bad hand for the moment. I hope this is the case, because when I was lying in my bed an hour ago, trying to figure out why I couldn’t fall asleep, I fully realized what was happening and it hit me hard. If not, then I guess I just need to rearrange my perspective a little bit.
–
I helped my Dad move a whole bunch of shit out of his soon to be ex-office in San Jose today. He’s moving into another office space (if you even want to call it that–it’s more of a room) because he is unable to afford the current rental rate. There was a lot to move: desks, cabinets, counter tops, computers, electronics. As I was moving all this shit, I remembered my childhood, and the boring days I used to spend with my mom or dad at their old office on Sutter. Back then, they had a handful of people working in their staff. I vividly remember almost all the faces I had gotten to know during those endless days; a lot of these people also used to be family friends. Business was always good, and as a child I never had to worry about understanding the concept of hard times. There was always a customer calling in. My parents were able to afford the nice Sunset house we now live in and a few of the cars we still have. We were comfortably middle class, and we all enjoyed it.
As I was helping my Dad tear apart one of his desks that was deemed too wobbly and space-consuming for his future workplace, though, I thought of my early high school years and what would become the aftermath of 9/11. Now, a lot of people in a lot of industries felt the brunt of 9/11, but imagine how a serviceman of the travel industry could be so adversely affected. The more recent barrage of Web 2.0 “cheap tickets”-type travel sites that have pretty much made the travel agent useless, did not help either.
These are things that my parents, while beginning their careers, could never foresee, not in a million years. And while we knew what was happening, I never fully understood how much we suffered until the past year or two. Business dwindles away daily, and I begin to see the “rent” I pay them as more of an “allowance.” My parents are poor, and seemingly running out of options. They want to move elsewhere–somewhere with a cheaper cost of living, somewhere they can thrive for a few years before retiring. They don’t know where this place is yet, nor if they can even afford to make the move yet. It makes me sad, because I know there really isn’t a whole lot they can do. I can’t begin to understand how they feel about this, or how they are being so strong about it. The two of them talk of putting it all in God’s hands, and it amazes me how nonchalant they are about the situation–though I am reminded regularly that I will have to be ready to fend for myself sometime soon.
That shit is scary. Sometime in the near future, I will be completely on my own. How the hell am I going to be ready for that? I’ve already decided that I’m okay with the 3,908,234 year academic plan, as long as I know what I want to study. Am I going to be able to support myself and get through college, much less build a career? What the fuck. More on this later.
I want to help them. Like, this actually makes me want to study something I hate just so I can provide for them later on. Whether I’m able to do this, I’m not sure, but I want to be able to help.
–
I’ve been thinking lately about how courageous it is for anyone to leave their homeland for another country in search of opportunity. I’m positive my parents did not know what to expect from America. What the hell made them crazy enough to put their entire lives at home on hold and move to an entirely foreign land? I look at myself, and I have much too large a vagina to ever consider moving to another country, permanently. All you immigrant offspring who read this (and I know that’s about 90% of people I know), really think about this if you already haven’t. Your parents have large balls. We have it good here, let’s not take everything for granted.
–
Sometimes you look back on past heartbreaks and they feel like bittersweet experiences. Bitter, in the obvious shittiness of any sort of situation of that kind, and sweet in experience you gain from it. You find yourself feeling stronger and able to handle all kinds of emotional situations, because, well, whatever happens in the future can’t get much worse than what has already happened. Well, turns out I’m not as strong as I thought I was. Yet.
Filed under: Uncategorized
we want so badly to correct mistakes of the past. don’t we?
we convince ourselves that through all the bad decisions, painful regrets that occur, we are strengthened and walk away with wisdom that will surely prevent similar mistakes from ever happening again.
and,
most of the time, we’re right.
and in rare occasions, we’re really right. so fuckin right that we begin to see ourselves in different angles, constantly comparing the old self with what is seemingly a reinvention of character–someone who has continued to mature. but sometimes we let our guard down, unreceptive to the fact that the human character will always be, well, human character.
we slip. we forget. we repeat.
i wish i could be a poet. sometimes i watch youtube vids or see live performances of spoken word artists and i’m blown away. there are few instances where i ever witness pure expression of self, and many a time it has been through performed poetry. i’ve always thought myself to be a decent writer and at least someone with a good command of vocabulary and verbal expression, but this is something else. i would know, cause i’ve tried. it’s hard. choosing the right words–not only in terms of meaning, but words that flow right, have the proper rhythm and add to the feel of a piece, crafting sentences to really exude the essence of what you’re trying to convey–this shit is hard.
especially right now.
right now.
i wish i could write something for right now. i really want to. it would be a piece about the human experience, something universal, yet immensely personal. it would be bittersweet, and would reflect the duality of life, of the decisions we make. i would want it to be a piece i could be driven to tears over, and something i could find later on and smile about. something beautifully written about ugliness. a piece that would keep me up for hours just to finish. something eloquently written but accessible and easy to understand, relate to.
i want to write this poem, but i can’t. in fact, i can hardly type this post out coherently. because no matter how good of a writer i become, no matter how expressive a wordsmith i can learn to be, there will always be times like these. times when i’m faced with a simple, yet harsh truth and all i can really do is stare it in the eye, unsure of where to go from there.
i saw the familiar become something strange and beautiful tonight, and it felt absolutely terrible.
back to sleep.
