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.

What I think about in the shower.

(The longer you flow, the more lost you'll get. It's important to remember how long you’ve had to explore and that most times it’s easyer to work than to work for something you’re not wanting.)

Finding that reason to keep going. That’s what drives me. I’m positively parabolic and there is few things that I can take. What I leave is only up to me and no longer her.

 

It’s alright to laugh, I think it’s funny too! (0:

I also figured out I’m a SMRT know it all, but who hasn’t?

Smile, it’s only beginning.

Just gotta keep goin'

My heartbreak isn't original. Nothing about this is. People have written, spoken, and acted about this grief. That's what it is, grief. But it's not original. There's nothing original about it. The only variables that change are the names and characters. But this feeling is universal. Some people choose to hide it, others choose to abide by its rules. I'm choosing to be a little bitch and do neither. I have to let it go. But I can't. Yes I can. I really can. But I can't do it. Not yet. Soon.

I could argue have argued that it was meant to be. I could argue have have argued that it wasn't our time. I could argue have argued that too many things added up, and that the universe and all the stars in the galaxy line up perfectly now so that the little things remind me of what it used to be. Of what I still feel it HAS to be. But, what for? No one will listen. No proof of the concept, no genuine knowledge. Just a feeling, some certainty, and a whole lot of observation. Wasn't that good enough for love before?

What changes is the person. What's unique is the interest. What's unique is the idea of "maybe".

Maybe isn't in my language. I'll have the last laugh, probably though...

I have to let myself let go. At least the stuff that I can't change. But I'm a believer of "everything is possible". I guess I'll have to believe that only the person will be able to see. But that's just hope. Hope isn't good for coping. Hope is what you have when you have nothing left. I have nothing left. Hope isn't cutting it for me. What I need is to stop looking around, look inside......

I've already looked, everything is still the same. Having to erase it from the most important parts is like having to erase part of myself. A true part of myself.

What do I do now? I'll say it again, back to square one.

That's why I feel broken. I guess now, my eternal struggle for self realization starts?

Like Einjo said, "That sucks man. I hurt for you. I've seen it plenty of times too. Never have I seen it hurt someone as much. Never ever did I think that something like that could happen so well formed. It's like someone was playing with the pieces. Kind of like a movie, but more fucked up. But I'm not going to lie, I have seen something like this before plenty-a-time. It always sucks, not like this though. This sucks the worst, not only because you're my friend, but because you can tell. I like to call it, "The world crashing down on you." But this is different. It feels kind of like when you know it isn't supposed to happen like this, but it does. Really though, I think you've officially won the worst luck."

 

Luck is a bitch. Fate is what you call it when you can deal with it.

I still need some last words to some people.

Those people know who they are. Those people need to at least give me a signal. Those people are just dodging me for some reason.

Those people aren't cowards, she just moved on.

Until then. Adieu.

Trying to be happy...

Fuck, if there was a better time for time to just fly by, it's now. I want school to start, I need something to keep me productive and stop with all of this self pity and over analyzing and over thinking and over and over and over and over! Enough!

The think is, I got a text, a simple text asking for my career advice. I couldn't just wave it off, I had to respond. I had to make myself seem cool and collected. But every time I was called, a strike to my gut. Every time she said my name, a blow to my heart. I got depressed that night.

But, thanks to a great friend, we challenged ourselves to get something out of our problems. To do something and stop with the worry. As we poured our hearts out, I knew that I wasn't alone. She wasn't me, I wasn't her, and that time WILL help.

As I told others of my sorrowing experience. Everyone said the same thing as my friend, angrily and hastily, "WHY?! Hasn't she done enough?" "Maybe she's not over it either. The only reason she made contact is because she's afraid she might have made a mistake."

And yeah, typically that's what would happen. But, I don't want to think that, I have to keep my guard up, I can't let the shred of hope and probability be my salvation. That's no anchor and it wont fly IRL. But, I did learn that I have awesome friends around me.

The only way I can do these things is just to avoid it all together, there's reason to my madness. I just don't want this to be, "Well, dude, maybe you're the one that's fucking scared and blah blah blah, and you're the one that can't get over it and blah blah blah." "And the anchor is just you being a bitch."

STFU. It's not that simple. I HAVE faced my problems, I HAVE found a reasonable solution, this just 'dropped me down a peg'. I was doing so well, Living my life, having a great time. I didn't need this. Not now. I didn't ask for this.

[the thing is, I already started doing this, that same night as I talked to my friend, I was already feeling better, I was already wanting to keep going where I was. This is just a manifestation of thoughts finally brought to the attention of my life's timeline.]

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!

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 love and stuff.

Even during the best of highs, the lowest of the low.

Love the one that may meet you half-way, the one that even if the chick from whoresville-that-you-wouldn't-mind-doing was down. And while avoiding all temptation AND hope. You can't stop but to wonder. Because knowing she's not there makes it all go away. You realize you still love her. The way you did from ultimate beginning and end.

 

Poetry slam, you're mine.

Trying something new.

1ad, this is the tag on my flickr profile... www.flickr.com/photos/kumaku

that's the tag for the shots that I take for my little personal project. It came to me in a dream almost. It was one of those dreams when all you do is talk. I remember hearing, "You can practically save your entire life in pictures now." So I got an idea to take a picture of something for that day. Being no professional photographer, it will serve as a visual timeline for me.

I'm still feeling wierd about melina, I still have dreams when I wake up hoping she is there still. I still wake up knowing nothing I can do will change much, all I want though is to be able to get up and run. Run for the sake of running, running for a purpose, to find some place where I can just be.

So that's what I'm going to do, I'm going to run. Run or cycle.

 

Recently too, I've been driving, walking, bicycling, running faster than normal. I don't want to know how it relates, but fuck it, I'll figure it out later/eventually.

If you want to be happy...

..For the rest of your life, never make a pretty woman your wife. In my personal point of view, get an ugly girl to marry you.

Well, at least a decent one. Not the pretty one that you had once and can't get out of your head.

I think that's what I need. A pretty girl with an ugly girls' personality. Or maybe an ugly girl with a nice rack. Either one is a-o-kay.

Well, it's official, little girls don't like me.
"Mommy, who's that?" [aww, my coworker's daughter takes interest in what mommy does.]

"That's Carlos." [so mommy says]

"Oh" [....and, you might be, cute little girl?]

"I don't LIKE Carlos" [WTF! WTF little girl?!, who said you were so awesome, well, you are sporting that lovely pink sweater]

(I make a degrading joke and go back to work with tears in my eyes)

But seriously. If I didn't have such a good sense of humour I'd be in shambles and expecting an apology and maybe a card, and those really big smarties.

Going to the gym is a huge obstacle every day, always that burden for me, but I know I have to go, it makes me happy when I go. I need to get a calendar or something so I can do something after, I feel if I cross out each day it will go faster somehow.

 

I just dialed Melina's number by mistake/habit. After doing so, I didn't feel like crying or anything. I guess I'm slowly, slowly, slowly "getting over" it. Though, I know this will ultimately haunt me, and will never leave me. But at least I won't be fazed when I see her driving or something. I'm better than that.

After work.

After work I reach for my pocket, unlock my phone, and dial.

5. That was her speed dial. All that comes to mind, "Fuck, now what?" I got bummed out.

...

Change, it's amazing.

Just browsing through my bookmarks. I ran accross this,
http://www.vimeo.com/451895

It's amazing, so much change, but there are things that stay the same. It's inspiring.

 

I just wish I could take it in stride. You know, not expect that every call or text was from her. Just have everything, ever not be connected to her in some way. It's a bit execcive and it depresses me, not enough to make me so sad anymore, but you know. It bothers me, it makes me feel uneasy. It makes me feel like it was abrupt and almost not worth it.

On the 22nd I'll have lunch with her, I want it to be fun and carefree. I want to talk about stuff, anything. I still love her, but I have to move on and remember all of the good stuff.

Getting it all out.

Because tomorrow is another day.

I always told myself it wouldn't hurt this badly. I never expected it to hurt this badly. It's kind of when you get a shot, you expect the pain, you expect it to swell then go away. But when you finally get pumped with the medicine, it hurts more than you could imagine, but you just have to give a good face and not look like a bitch in front of the cute phlebotomist.

so why did I post such emo things? Well, it's because it meant more to me than anything else, EVER. I decided to make them public, so I can have a timeline, to show me later that I do have a soul. That I can love passionately, with conviction, and selflessly.

Today is a new day. I've always tried to live life a day at a time. I still am, I just feel I have no direction.

I still love her. I still want her. I still need her. But she's gone. I can accept that. We talked, she promised me it wasn't my fault and that any decision she'd make it would be by her own self doing. I'm never going to believe that, I know I could have done better, I just don't know how. But now she's gone, all I can hope for is that she'll be happy.

Please, everyone, be happy.

T-T-Translation.

I felt sadness when I realized that it wasn't a dream.
That it was true that you had left my life forever.
Realities woke me up and it was the death of my joy and my illusions of not losing you.
It's no reason why I felt the tired feeling of your kiss. 
I asked if you still loved me,
and with silence, you answered my question.
If the truth is so divine, why did you lie?

I did everything possible so that one day you would love me the way I needed.
Alas, in the end of things,  my love you had, and with a tiny bit of your love, I would have settled for.
And you never even gave me a goodbye when you left, and still I thought it was a dream.
I woke me to my realities and it was my painful death. And your absence was, for my existence, the cruelest poison.

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."

Jealousy: A new frontier

This weekend my girlfriend went to a Kanye West concert in Albuquerque. I miss her, I wish she wasn't far away, but she's with her parents, brother, and a friend. I guess it's a normal feeling. This helped me realize something, something that has been stowed away deep in my intimate emotions I have towards Melina. I'm jealous of her fantasies, mainly because she, somehow meets all of mine.

I won't say that I haven't fallen in lust with various... countless... movie actresses and other women, but any time I do think about that, I always count my blessings and realize I have a companion that can't be beat.

For the past two and a half years I've done this.

I'm not the jealous type, I really don't care if she talks to guys, goes to party with her friends, or if she says, "This guy hit on me today and he was really funny, charming, and good looking." (Okay, she's never said that, exactly) None of it really bothers me, I know the game, If the bitch don't have a ring, she's available. But I trust her, she trusts me, and we're happy.

Lately, I've come to notice that she is particularly weak against certain, physical and personal attributes in the opposite sex. It started with a comment, in laymans terms it was, "I like black guys." TO ME, it sounded like, "I'm going to ditch your fat-ass for a black guy". I don't know why, it's not that I'm racist or prejudice, or have anything against black guys, but the fact that MY girlfriend is into a certain group of adult males, it struck a nerve. At that point I felt vulnerable, I mean, black guys are good looking. So like any other guy, I just put up a tough guy attitude, laughed it off, and let it claw at me from the inside.

Then, the rain came. It started to go into detail.

"(Some singer/actor/deuchebag that I've never heard of) is so sexy"

"OMG, freekin' sexy voice"

"He is so sexy I'd marry him"

"When I marry sexy (insert famous black guy)..."

 

Then, she twittered:

"Oh my god Pharrel williams is fckn sexy as hell!!! Ay!!! I'll

give him a lap dance for free even though i cant do that shit..."

WTF! I want to be sexy too! [I'm cracking up, writing this, you know, to offset the tears]

It's not like she's never told me that another actor is good looking. But, the fact that I have no idea who the hell she's referring to, makes me uneasy, it brings that human aspect to them. Like she's going to go see them and do something. It doesn't help that it's just about looks. It's never, "I think he is a great guy and I want to have lunch with him and talk about subjects that affect us emotionally." I take that back, THAT would completely demoralize me. ):

Good night.

[The thing is that I know Melina CAN get good looking guys, and CAN be a flirt. Then, when you compare me to the caliber of people she can attract. Add on top that she has particular tastes. Also note that I'm not exactly the most attractive/smooth cereal/cool person out there. Then add that this feeling does demoralize, weaken, and saddens me....]

 

I'm sad now.