The King of Pop has Died.

It wasn’t long ago that the vision in my head was still alive.

Be it a de javu; random incling; or maybe i’m making shit up. Either way, I remember the picture and thinking…. The king of pop has died. 

http://pics.livejournal.com/zarex/pic/0006e3kf

I’ve just been keeping it real and losing pounds. I feel the same. I guess it’s me that can’t get chicks. Oh God why can’t I get chicks?! Fail Wail. Get it?

I can only say that I don’t like to get stared at by creepy old ladies that think they have a shot at a good fuck. Cause you know. Old ladies can settle with a lot of stuff. I hate wal-mart.

I feel like I need to write more. I guess it’s my head telling me to get some food in it. I’ve been slacking it in the school department. I can only say that there is going to be a hill to climb. A tall rocky, sandy, hill. Yeah, that I’ll conquer on my mtn bike.

There has been a lot of changes recently. But I do feel like myself. Just with more composure because I manage to think before I speak, it feels like I can say a sentence and make some dialogue. I’m thinking it’s because of twitter. People forget that a single sentence can hold a harsh meaning. It’s perfect for people who live their lives on “quotes”. Either get some meaning behind those things or RTFM and find out why it’s so bad ass. That’s really what’s frustrating me, I just feel like I can’t do what I want because of my parents. Then I realize I don’t have anywhere else to go… But let’s not confuse thinking with being a pussy.

Good times.

I’ve had them, but nothing beats a BBQ…

Who’s down? I’m up for whatever.

I <3 Getting Older.

I was born a bad guy.  Bad guys always lose. It’s up to me to change it. Every action leads to an equal but opposite rxn.I rather work hard to change it, than to plateau at some mediocre level. After all, I am the good guy, don’t good guys win all the time? After all,I have nothing to lose now. After all, I still have the deck in my hands. Because once you start winning at your own game, that’s when progress is made. But, what work should I do? I know the answer, but it’s that I don’t have the desk.

Jesus, someone get me a desk from school…

Best birthday present ever…

Just being me. On paper, and out loud.

Live Life

If living life passionately requires any special ability, it’s the ability to live for life.

Sadly my passion I was living for, left me. She was my passion and inspiration, a whisper of her – made me happy. Yes, she was, through and through. All of my love and passionate ability, gone. Luckily I have a rag-tag team of !!Good Guys!! who can just about solve anything that matters. … But I digress, or should it be depress?

Depression made me realize I really am not a depressed person, but I do like to prepare for the worst. I am not a nice guy, but if you treat me nice I’ll treat you nicer (Ladies?!) And far and foremost, I am my Parents son, I guess I’m the bad parts of them. [Did I mention that I am a lesbian woman inside? But that’s another post.] Overall, a learning experience.

So, sadly and jointly I began a quest to reveal who’s really there, I mean, the whole city had just collapsed and reconstruction was being paid for in friendships, shots, family, beer, bad rally calls, smoke, shit talking, rap, money, hits, my image. Stranded and stained, I lost focus.

Later I began to come home. And, realize some important shit.

Later, I began to come home. And, realize some important shit.

It felt good. Even with shame, I knew she was out of my system. I was who I was and there’s only one way up. So I started climbing towards a Greek perfection. So I keep climbing.

I am not at the summit, nor do I think I’ll ever get there until I’m out and about. Out and about doing? Doing, finishing, it’s all the same to me right now. I’m living life.

I’m living with no passion though… That is where things like school and a possible future keep driving me. That’s what I like doing, and thanking my friends and family for being there.

The Passion of LIVING. Is that so wrong?

As for her, she still sits as a big part of my life, not only because she was around for so long, but because I came out with something more than just anguish. Anguish I would have felt if we had married now or later. I came out with the ability to breathe and depend on myself to make me feel okay. [Personal note: If I could talk to her, I would, but my failed attempts at communication are all I’m able to invest my time in. And they’d be questions about how good a lover I was.   :-P      ]

Finally, I’m just beginning trying out my new and improved self. Trying to fix some shit from people in the other time period was sooo last year. Writing this, I am trying to avoid the same mistakes [unless you believe anti-provocation can lead to direct provocation, but I think that mentality is backwards] and trying to slow down, to take it all, and observe what is really going on to solve some problems. Solving problems, it’s what I do.

I just say, live life.

Snuff n' Stuff

Just been hanging out. Getting scared shitless of the unknown the unsolved and the things to come.

We're growing up, we find reasons to look typically older, wiser, and sometimes harder. That's why we picked up dipping, but I have to be honest, sometimes it tastes terrible and my mouth blisters up. Am I older now?

It's funny to see us do it, because we know why we even do it. This self mutilation almost, gives us a sense that we are better than that. We are doing it to experience it now. To tell the story to those that will learn from it, and to motivate others like us that have to experience it to believe.

It's not something that we do consciously, it's not something that we want either. It's who we are, we choose to live simply and vividly at the same time. Living on the edge some say, we're just doing it for the ride.

(-;

Carlos on love.

LOVE, I've spoken, written, and lived it.

Recently I saw a TED talk on love. Helen Fisher's presentation on love. http://blog.ted.com/2008/07/the_brain_in_lo.php

It blows my mind. Love that is. The thing about the whole presentation it gave a feeling that I, like so many others, already knew this. Us who have loved, we knew it all. But someone putting all of this into a scientific work, that's all I needed to know. I needed to know that it IS normal to feel like this. It's not just my ability to get.... crazy. It's not just me.

Looking at all of the facts and stuff. I am glad I love, I am happy to have understood that feeling, that instinctive-primal-disorienting-incomprehensible-yet-universal feeling. I love love.

I used to say that one of the most important and powerful words that I hated using, was love. It was because I didn't fully understand that no one really understands, and I will never be able to completely explain love. It's something that has to be experienced before you fully realize its beauty.

I had an idea of its power when I was younger. I said,  "It's over used, it's too powerful to be tossed around so sparingly." And I would get angry at people who said, "I love so-and-such"

Is it too valuable to cheapen with improper use? Should it be used to describe the feelings you have for, Action Bubble's scum-scrubbin-bubble solution?

Personally, I feel that there shouldn't even be a word to encapsulate such a broad term. But, if love doesn't exist, what does?

All hail the robot overlords.

It's amazing to me of how much of my adolescence was a blur. Oh sure, I learned a few things. Don't do this, don't do that. Know your limits, understand what's said to you the first (couple) times, Hygiene is your best friend, science doesn't (for the time) hold all the answers, etc, etc.

Looking back at the past 10 years, half of my life, very few things stand out. Even fewer make me happy; Melina, stupid shit with my family and friends.

Looking at the details, I learned, relearned, then learned that what I just learned, at times, is completely wrong (or at least partially).

Still, I probably wouldn't make any changes to what I did. Because of my natural need to understand and wonder and laugh, I genuinely like the person I am.

Oh sure, I tend to have my moments of pessimism and downright depression. But how many people don't? How many people let that shit take over and screw them on a daily basis? Hopefully more than I think.

Right now I feel like everything I've learned to this point makes sense, everything I've come to understand and connect as logically as I could makes sense.

If you ask me what it all means, I couldn't tell you in a single sentence, I'd probably never would be able to tell you, just somehow, some way, you'd just have to understand. You'd have to understand, at least, that there is no definitive answer, and that the conversation would never end. The amazement and wonder, the learning and understanding, the ohhhhh and ahhhhh, the observation and association is never subsiding. Because some of the best stuff doesn't make sense.

 

Recently, I spoke with a friend.
She sent me a txt asking for MY opinion on a short blurb on happiness.
As much as I tried to make a logical argument in 140 characters or less, I couldn't.
As much as I tried not to say something, amazingly lighthearted or amazingly pessimistic, I couldn't.
As much as I tried to let my emotions flow, I couldn't
As much as I tried to let me say, "Happiness is easy to figure out, your heart knows what REALLY makes you happy." I couldn't

Probably, because I haven't been happy in (what seems to be) such a long time.

Probably, because happiness is as fucking non-complicated as love is. And we all know how easy it is to understand any of those human things.

All hail the robot overlords.

[I'm an idiot for not saving the txt. My phone was pissing me off because it kept saying that I had an unread message. But NOOOOOO, I just had to be OCD and make sure the little envelope icon was clear before I went back to work. So I deleted all of my texts. FUCK YOU crappily programmed phone!]

 

[[THEN, she say's I probably didn't understand what she meant! No one tells me I can't understand something as uncomplicated as happiness/girl emotions! *shakes fist* (-: ]] <<<LOOKS LIKE A HAT!

Comment from a Student

So, we were having a nice little lunch. My Mom + Dad, Sister, and me. My sister kept saying, "So, when are you going to shave and cut your hair," and so on. I kept making lame excesses, but never really had an answer better than, in Homer Simpson fame, "O-ummm-oomm?" [I don't know sound].

Anyway, my dad finally had enough of our childish banter, and said, "He's depressed." 

This comment gave me chills, I laughed in nervousness, hoping that I really wasn't, hoping that he doesn't read my blog. Most importantly, hoping it wasn't true.

"Well, mildly depressed." He said. "Mildly depressed people often do things like that, to be avoided. It's in my psychology book."

We laughed, and smiled.

To my sister and me It was apparent, I am mildly depressed.

That's fucked up.

Now I really want to go cut and shave.

The Loser.

(I sent this to Melina late one night. After hanging out with friends and realizing that some girls are bitches, but Melina never was, and I hope she never will be.)

 

I think that's why we got along.
IT was because you understood the "Loser". And if you didn't you'd try and figure it out.
But how could you do it? Was it that you too were a loser?
No, she's too beautiful/classy for that.
Then what was it?
She knew how to feel. She knew every feeling. But most, even if she didn't understand it completely, she loved. Harshly.
But, what if all she thought was torn away?
"Fuck it" is all she said.

At least that's what I saw. And I liked that she knew when I'm getting into it, too far into it.
And she'd say.
"I love you, but take a break and be mine for a while"
And that's what I'd do.
She understood the "Loser"

LOL!
I didn't what to trip you out.
I hope you're living well and happy.
I hope you've found what's been missing.
I hope you're doing exactly what makes you happy and elated.
I hope you don't take this in bad nature.
I hope you don't realize I'm a terrible person.
I hope you didn't leave me for someone else.
I hope you will still be, for the time at least, be my friend.

(-:

[txt me when you see this, txt me lies and say you understood. also, text me if it's cool if I blog this.]

I've never thought she was a Bitch.

"Don't worry I was probably one of her stupid friends"

I just saw something I probably was never meant to see. Now it seems all hope is lost. Bad timing I guess. )-';

[full size: http://flickr.com/photos/kumaku/2495870210/sizes/l/ ]

Earlier I had been talking about how my stomach stopped turning when I saw her picture, saw her name, said her name, or even thought about her. I was starting to make the distinction from my hellish sleep these past two nights, and the real world that I live in. But, as I drove to Circuit City, I didn't expect this.

These past two nights have been rough. I wake up in the middle of the night. I lay there, looking at the ceiling, wondering if everything we once had is "officially" done. My dreams are full of stuff I had never been prepared for. Stuff she said would never happen. I wake up and realize I'm alone.

What makes me depressed is that, I was right. I knew this would happen, for her and for her friends it would be a day of relief and freedom. For me it's a day of anxiety and reprise.

Such contradicting realities. One joyous rebirth, another a morose bereavement.

Just yesterday, my brother said, "When it rains, it pours."

Being Alone is Not Loneliness

I wish The Beatles were a bit more morose with some of their songs, wtf is it that you can wish all of it was true, only you can't understand why there would even be question that he was actually falling and not under some weird narcotic?

Music, I've been listening to much of it, and I know I'm going to sound dull and repetitive but it's true, it's what makes the soul cry out and realize it is still living in a person that CAN do anything they want and WONT do it because of fear, lack of passion, heavy breathing, smelling funny, and thinking somber thoughts. I think it tries to come out of your chest, right to the left of the heart. THANK GOD for my sternum...

I wish when people did something that they think will help them, they didn't publicly admit that they are trying hard to keep it in and that they should have a toffee for doing so.

I'm done, the lights are on and Sad But True just started playing on my iPod.