Saturday, April 17, 2010

 

4.17.10

Last night... I cried.

Ryan posted this at 3:31 AM.

Friday, September 05, 2008

 

09.05.08

If my fate is to be destroyed, I must simply laugh.

=-=-=

His feelings for her were deeply rooted, nurtured far longer beyond the past few months that they had been considered official. He had taken his time with her and he appreciated her patience-- she was a saint to have waited for as long as she did. His caution wasn't a product of being burned in the past. He was just the type of guy who had to be pretty sure of something before he jumped into anything.

But it was how he knew. He would do anything for her-- and she knew it as well.

He viewed the population of the world as puzzle pieces. Everyone had their protrusions and everyone had their recesses. Some pieces fit well with others and some didn't fit at all. It wasn't preference-- it was just how they turned out. He and the girl, no matter what way you turned them...

...they meshed.

Many would agree that any which way they connected, the picture was something beautiful. It wasn't always concrete, sometimes abstract, but the fact that they both knew what it represented said wonders about the connection that they shared.

The way in which she fit in his arms or how well her head just seemed to lay atop his chest-- it was beyond coincidence or luck. Their arms intertwined around one another in perfect strides so that a caress of the head or the shoulder was always within comfortable reach, their faces always seeming to align next to one another in perfect spacing for the kind indulgence of a gentle and soft kiss.

He found himself always waking with a smile on his face at the sight of his lovely love entangled within his grasp or resting next to him, the cold midnight air and misty mornings being combated by her emanating warmth. He'd place an affectionate kiss upon her head and quickly fall victim to slumber. Never had he found such favor with the Sand Man before her emollient presence. He had been told he spoke in his sleep, her name often on the tip of his exasperated tongue, perhaps the only word the he really needed, capable of being translated into anything and everything.

Still, the words that they exchanged flowed through and around each other in perfect harmony, filling in the blanks on their own, mirroring one another's thoughts. It was more than just finishing each other's sentences. Beyond words, a glance was enough to get across an entire coltish conversation between the two, their grins and smiles abounding, outside perspectives oblivious, not privy to the banter and wit shared by two clever minds.

Yes, the pieces seemed to fit perfectly. Broken down, this went here and that went there. It didn't matter if the smaller jig-saw pieces represented similarities or contrasts, they still continued to line-up next to one another persistently and effortlessly, the picture ever-changing, forever in a flux. It was at the same time both concrete and abstract, a logical paradox that existed for all to see, cherish and envy.

And he saw this picture every time he looked into her eyes, smitten into oblivion by elation.

It was a little bit of a lot.

=-=-=

A little bit of a lot.

So fresh. No stress. I'm feeling so blessed.

This is real.

We're good.

Docking out...
-Ryan : copacetic

Ryan posted this at 3:02 AM.

Sunday, June 01, 2008

 

06.01.08-06.029.08

Came back to an empty home.

Funny, 'cause I also came back to an empty town.

There is almost nothing back there for me to return to.

But I'll always have love for it and its inhabitants, no matter what happens.

Having that downtime was something fantastic and I found myself cruisin' around town in the CR-V I used to rock, going to places in a solitary glory, ordering a drink and just lounging, people watching or reading from a book.

It's been a while.

I briefly passed corners and lingered at parks, reminiscing about these places and the turn-arounds that I was a part of.

The black and the white quickly and easily become grey as you get older and deal with more convoluted conflicts.

You'll find that "justice" is hard to define and the "greater good" is something that lurks in an arena of uncertainty.

If you combat "bad" with "bad" for something that you define as "good", is it noble?

What in turn makes you different than the "monsters" that you've labeled?

The outcome.

But the ends can't always justify the means.

Nick Swardson.

Hilarious.

I wonder what it would've been like to go to school and hang out with the guy.

I can only imagine.

What the filet mignon?

What was that?

Was that a... meow? ...that I just heard?

What is a cat doing outside my IV window at 2:30 in the freakin' AM?

Do we have milk? I'll give it some milk.

No dice.

It's gone.

Phantom feline?

Not as scary.

I wonder if she ever just stops and thinks about me...

...and smiles.

'Cause I sure do.

Eve-A?

My sunrise and sunset.

Jammit.

This is bad.

I miss her.

And she's on my mind more than she's ever been when I have to settle for her absence.

Distractions are becoming less and less potent and, if not for class, I'd probably be doing all I could just to be in her presence.

I wake up and she's in my arms and all I can do is smile.

Complete comfort.

My care hath no boundaries.

That goes double for her.

Exactly.

Hold your breathe because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you over again.

By the by, I noticed-- I just didn't want to admit that I look at you often enough to distinguish the difference.

I think one of the worst places to have an argument is in a car.

'Cause there's only your own door to slam and if you walk out there's nowhere else to really go to in order to cool off.

Especially if the car's in motion.

And if you do exit the vehicle, there's that possible chance that you'll be left there.

Balls all up in your grill.

Balls.

...That beetle seems to have followed me.

I notice everything. It's a matter of whether I voice it or not.

Yes, I'm aware. I choose and allow it to be so.

Yes, I'm okay with that. Just because you can't or wouldn't doesn't mean that I'm not capable of handling it.

It doesn't bother me. Why does it bother you?

I should really stop being lazy.

My parents are so G.

Not gonna lie.

Jaded.

Used as an adjective to describe me, some will argue that you are not far off.

But maybe it isn't really that I'm jaded.

I've been exposed to it so much, maybe I'm just really good at crystallizing my emotions so that it doesn't eat away at me.

Maybe.

It seems that my absences have taken their tolls.

I am a cuddle-whore and a prime conduit of affection.

Star-stealing girl.

And now the doubt sets in, just like it always has before.

It's strange, mostly because it's a feeling that I don't have much experience with.

In all reality, I know that "doubt" is just a deflective label for what it truly is within the confines of my mind: fear-- another feeling that I don't have much experience with.

I am such a BADASS on my own. I treat every day like a weekend or holiday, doing what I please and any and all consequences I take with a swig of Dr Pepper and deal with.

I handle like no one else I know.

I am a champion among amateurs and can make things look easy.

'Cause it is.

But for me, it's different, dealing on my own because they are that-- solely my own.

Then the thoughts cross my mind:

It sometimes seems like I'm a much better friend than a lover.

Or, it's not that I feel inadequate, it just seems like she would be much better off with someone else.

Or, ultimately, I don't want to become a burden to her.

That's how much value I've placed here.

In the back of my mind, I always say that if I am to have her, I'd want all of her and not just a part of her.

But I'm being hypocritical in the sense that it's not entirely reciprocal.

It's so hard for me to open up and I'm surprised that I've done as much so far.

I'm not entirely sure what I'm afraid of.

Anything that's happened in my past has already transpired and while they've brought me to the point I am in my life, it's not who I am today.

Maybe I just don't want her to look at me differently.

I don't know.

I just know that I care about her.

A lot.

And I also know that the first time I heard that anger in her voice on account of my actions, my world sank because the last thing I want to do is cause her any discomfort.

But she too isn't the type of person to just jump into things and I'd be a fool to not recognize that there's something growing.

There's so much ugliness in the world.

But being with her, I'm reminded that resplendent things still exist.

We're good.

One day gone and I forget two things.

One of them being pure comfort and the other what gorgeousness looks like.

Time won't give me time, so I'm gonna stop wasting it with incertitude.

Back to keeping things beautiful, 'cause that's what she is to me.

God, that smile and that laugh.

That smile and that laugh.

I don't know if I'd kill for it-- I'm not at that point yet.

But I'd do a lot for it.

Allow logic to stabilize your emotions.

Hotmail just sent me an e-mail entitled: "Make your e-mail count!"

I deleted it... without reading.

Shoooot, son...

Mo'fruckah, I make everything count.

Everything.

And I often find myself asking why do I care?

I just do.

Weird.

Empathy, sympathy, philanthropy, selflessness... -y.

That's always been a certainty.

Ooh... 50 points for vocabulary with multiplier for the rhymage.

I've logged in much thought as to why.

The closest I've ever gotten was this: the imbalance is a balance.

Ooh... 25 bonus points for enigmatic and cryptic wordplay of mind-blowing infinite wisdom.

It's all relative.

I am incapable of motivating myself.

Heralded, but the intention wasn't there.

I'm usually pretty correct in my thinking, good in my decision-making.

Execution? That's always a fickle thing.

As long as you get it done.

I never look like how I feel.

Unfulfillment, dissatisfaction.

I've reached many bars.

Rarely ever my own.

I just can't lose.

Mo'fruckah, I am invincible.

Are you kidding me?

Easy button.

On everything.

It's as if Life just entered the "invincibility" code.

Have no fear. Cover all angles.

Go full out. Appreciate.

Realize the balance of Life.

Be modest in your speech and humble in your winnings.

Live a life worth dying for.

My whole life is distraction--

but you're my favorite one.

Day and night.

Why is it so?

...That this longing for you follows wherever I go?

Not fair.

Real talk.

I find myself asking why all the time.

I haven't had this feeling in a while.

It's a different kind of warmth when she's in my arms.

I am so appreciative of her presence because for whatever reason, it's calming to the point where it's almost tangible and its emollience soothes my physical stresses.

My body ceases to act up when I'm around her.

Crazy, I know. I'm aware that a good chunk of it is mental, but holy damn.

Nothing tame the wild like a woman's embrace, they say.

And it's not some naive notion of affection, the years I've lived up to this point have culminated in a lot of personal wisdom, but when my hand caresses her soft cheeks and I chance upon a look into those duel brown hues...

...Dood, I don't even have a metaphor for that.

And she speaks with a pleasant flow, with a sharp wit unrivaled by many.

I could listen for days.

But have you ever wondered how anyone could ever like you?

There are various reasons as to why I am who I am today.

A good handful of them I hate.

For whatever reason, in the back of my mind, there's that itch that I'm gonna mess something up.

Gotta find that balance.

You could say that I'm intense. I prefer superfluous.

Look at how I treat people.

Exactly.

But Life is something that deserves nothing less than passion, don't you think?

Getting back on track.

Docking out...
-Ryan : Heaven doesn't want me. Hell's afraid I'll take over.

Ryan posted this at 4:42 PM.

Thursday, May 08, 2008

 

05.08.08-5.19.08

I don't know why, but I find so much more comfort in the nighttime than in the daytime.

I think it's the calm serenity.

I mean, there's a reason why we fall asleep at night.

That and the soft silence.

It's hard to explain but it's a different kind of silence than the kind you might find during the daytime.

It's intangible and ethereal but it almost seems like it's a living entity in itself.

It enshrouds you, much like the darkness, and hides you away so that all the thoughts in your head can either shine boldly like never before or find comfort in their independence within the vacancies of your mind.

I've seen many beautiful things in my lifetime.

Everyday, you keep inching your way towards that list with the way you converse.

You never grow comfortable of his presence even after Death follows you around for an entire year, despite how much you front about it.

It's cool.

I just pop some Tylenol and down some caffeine.

I keep on keeping on.

For whatever reason, I can't let them see me like this.

Mo'fruckah, I'm invincible... always have been.

This isn't going to stop me.

And if I can't overcome this, then who am I to say "do this" and "do that"?

I rarely ever get scared.

Seriously.

That's not just some testosterone-driven-society's-male-image-of-toughness-ideal talking.

But lately, it's crept up on me.

My physical inadequacies have finally caught up with my optimistic and far-running mentalities and for the first time in years, my body shut down on me.

I felt like I just had gotten leveled by a truck.

And speaking of leveled by a truck.

That's also how I feel when I look at her.

She can level me with her eyes.

And I find myself dealing with feelings, emotions and notions that I haven't dealt with in years.

The fact that she is slowly siphoning control away from me?

It doesn't alarm me in the least.

And that scares the hell out of me.

It's about that time of the year when I'm in a contemplative and reflective mood.

Bad thing?

It sure can be sometimes.

I wasn't much of a leader this year in my eyes. I let too many personal things affect me and the overall potential of the team suffered because of it.

I failed myself and more importantly, I failed them.

I have yet to truly give it my all.

And that doesn't make me feel like a BADASS at all.

I can't seem to shake this right now.

Invest more into self-assurance and less into pride.

No matter where I seem to go, I can't escape it in some form.

Yes, I'm speaking about two things at once.

No, they're not both bad.

Lately, Time moves the day painfully slow in her absence, but why does it seem like the evening ends too quickly and morning always comes too soon when she's around?

If I were to name the single greatest highlight of my year...

...it would be her.

It only took three quarters.

For whatever reason, she always brings me back to point.

You don't know what it is to handle.

You might think it's safe to just walk, but I suggest you step up to the plate and swing at certain universals with all that you've got.

Things always seem to sway in my favor eventually with ease.

But is it well deserved, if at all?

Sure doesn't seem like it to me.

And it sure as Hell isn't fair sometimes.

And all the words I thought I knew...

...they hold new meaning when attached to you.

I just get so tired sometimes.

I don't think people understand.

Still, that's no excuse.

Or at least, that's what I tell myself.

...and that's why I find that I've always passed my limits in more ways than one.

I'm too easily guilt-ridden at times and the caliber at which I hold myself to won't allow me to stop going on, despite the taxation that it brings upon me.

But it's worth it.

Or at least, that's what I tell myself.

Someone has to do it... and I can.

And sometimes am the only one.

I bring it upon myself.

End game.

Back to equilibrium, suckaaaaas.

To be the one to relay experiences, to share the secrets, to motivate and to inspire others and the future that is to come.

It is something that cannot be refused.

This self-deprecation bull-honky-donkey-- it's what fuels me.

To be beyond that which I currently dwell upon and to be better than having to be in that ridiculous position of dwelling...

...that's how I evolve and that's how I adapt as a person.

Perhaps I do it moreso than others, but people really need to just step up and step back and just put themselves into context.

They'll find all the necessary answers.

It's a little bit of a lot...

...but it's always the same response.

It's hard having put in so many years to try and potentially transform something into another wondrous entity of a whole 'nother standard.

But in the end, you find yourself saying the same things and people wander off into directions that you don't want them to or previously had not even thought of.

For every tunnel you make, they've made another hole, another passage, and so you follow theirs and deter them towards your own every now and then.

But for reasons both known and uncertain, you find that they continue back towards the magma core of heat.

There's only so much you can do sometimes.

You can't save everyone, Ryan.

On a scale of 1 to "chill," I just wanna chill.

No need to get crazy.

This Champion, this BADASS is just trying to lounge out.

It's not that I have a high sense of pride or even an inflated ego, it's just that I have a high sense of duty to the things that I have chosen to get myself involved in.

It was a conscious decision on my part, so I'll be the one to deal with the things that come with it.

After the Hell that I put my body through for the past few months, I've been trying to get myself back to that equilibrium that I am so familiar with.

Easy button.

Kind of.

I'm almost there, well on my way to near completion, but I'm at the hardest part of the course.

I am content with everything as it is. I see it all for what it is and can appreciate it and can only think of ways to make it all the more beautiful.

I am happy with everything...

...but myself.

Expectations are a mo'fo and I generally try not to have any...

...but when it comes to matters of the self, I always hold myself to a very high standard.

Still, such self-deprecation only comes in small, fun-sized bites and I find other means of diluting such fictitious notions.

It's all relative. It's all about perspective.

This will pass, as do many things

The world is my canvas. I am the medium...

...and I intend to make it something of a masterpiece.

I want to do something beautiful.

Scratch that-- I need to do something beautiful, just for my own sanity's sake.

I've tried.

I've tried and failed on numerous occasions in the recent weeks.

For whatever reason, I cannot articulate the right form of expression.

Now sets in the frustration, for she's beyond encapsulation.

So, now I sit confounded, surrounded by a sea of multiple views-- with every wave an incomplete attempt at the essence of you.

I know she finds beauty in the world-- well, I hope she can find the beauty in this...

...'cause while it can't capture the loveliness I see, it's the only temporal thing that fits.

Docking out...
-Ryan : of an ephemeral nature

Ryan posted this at 5:35 PM.

Monday, April 14, 2008

 

04.14.08

Trigger. Pull.

I've been wearing this necklace for far too long.

Aww, dood...

This is bad.

I don't want to do anything...

...except be with her.

Languish.

I just don't want to miss you right now.

Whenever I sing or dance, I imagine it as if I'm doing it solely for you.

That's how I know.

That's why I close my eyes and look down or up while doing it.

Even when you're right there.

I never jump into a situation that I'm not 100% sure or am in ample control of.

You have no idea how hard it is for me to get that close to somebody.

Yet, she makes it easy somehow.

The alarms aren't going off.

So versatile.

So many things remind me of her.

She makes me laugh without even trying and we carry on for hours on end.

My world is saturated something saccharine with her happiness and it crumbles with her discontent.

A professional Mind Ninja, she continuously and effortlessly infiltrates every vacant spot in my mind throughout the day.

I conjure up entire novels in my mind in a desperate attempt to put to thought exactly how she makes me feel.

I write stupid vignettes and short paragraphs just to try to capture just what it is about her...

...but they can never measure up.

An all-encompassing comfort, her presence settles me and even when my body is in the midst of its worst backlash, I feel no tinge of pain or soreness when I'm next to her.

The power of her touch is beyond words and she tames my wild thoughts whenever she kindly indulgences me with that smile.

She is my Valkyrie, the complement to my Centurion ranking, and her loyalty and dedication to those that she loves rivals my own and is something worthy of respect.

The fact that she understands the beauty of the world and the transient nature of life further augments my adorations.

She rightfully illuminates the pedestal that I've placed her upon.

I am just babbling. Mind vomit.

Intellect. Street smarts. Strength.

Smiles. Warmth. Comfort.

This lovely love's got it all.

The road looks promising.

This is the best part of romance-- the youth.

...But I always tend to keep the things I like around and make it last for as long as forever.

Docking out...
-Ryan : it's been a while since this

Ryan posted this at 3:01 AM.

Saturday, March 08, 2008

 

03.08.08-03.31.08

Holy damn, those hands.

So soft... and warm.

So soft and warm and... magical.

It's like she removed all of the stress from my own.

I didn't want to admit it...

but my aching hand feels better than before it started acting up in the first place.

But she just has the effect on everything.

You think you'd get used to it.

Almost all of the songs nowadays are about sex.

Not even making love-- just sex.

That or falling out of a relationship, cheating or wanting to be in a relationship.

There aren't enough songs about being in love.

At least, enough with an ample amount of substance.

There aren't enough songs that echo the absolute weakness that can be induced by just a quick viewing of a genuine smile or the disabling ability of a significant other's striking glance from those deep twin hues of eyes that one can easily get lost in.

There aren't enough songs about the warmth generated in a simple embrace, that is far from simple, and the aura that it creates that makes the entire outside world obsolete in comparison to that single moment of affection.

There aren't enough songs that focus on the emollient effects of one solitary kiss and its potential to quell all storms, ease all stresses and push back all burdens that might be weighing on the world of someone.

At least, when it comes to hip-hop and R&B.

But at this point, that might be asking for too much.

You ever ruminate over the possibility that maybe we're at the point in our absolute timeline that He's just stepped back and is waiting for our move, that now he's just left it up to us-- to see if we are worthy creatures after all?

Most of the time, only two questions cross my mind before making a decision.

A) Is it funny?

-or-

B) Would an idiot do this?

And now that I have free time, I feel like I'm wasting time more than ever.

It's your meditation on death that empowers your life.

Maybe they were right.

Maybe I like suffering in my own little ways.

Perhaps as a reminder, as a reason and as a springboard.

It doesn't make sense but it does.

I'm not making this any easier.

Stop.

Stoooop.

Stop it.

Stop it now.

"Well it's all for the sake of arriving with you
We could make this into anything
We could make this into more than words we speak
This could make us into anything
It could make us grow and become what we'll be"

So much I want to do or to say, and even moreso, feel I should.

But I throw up excuses like "studying" into the mix and whatnot.

I can't start if you can't stop.

My problem?

Build-up.

I'm like a dam.

Or rather, a fence.

And while I might find a hole to stick my hand through and I'm constantly looking on the other side, I cannot truly explore that other world until I've cleared that bad boy.

I can look through the cross-hair all I want.

It's just a matter of pulling the trigger.

But when I'm on, I'm on.

In this town alone, there are so many people that you might see someone one day and there's the possibility that you'll never see them ever again for the rest of your and their life.

The fact that I see the people that I see often-- is enough of a blessing for me...

...and is ample reason enough for me to stave off seeing you if that's what needs to happen?

If that makes any sense.

There are certain aspects of my reputation that I do and do not like.

But like with many things, it's a double-edged sword.

Or something.

All Those before Mose.

That's just the way it's always been, I suppose.

I just wanna dance.

Full out.

I just wanna sing.

Euphoniously.

I just wanna lounge out.

Free from complication.

I just wanna be.

With you.

Hello there.

My name's Ryan.

Please, allow me to make your day.

I've done enough of that back home.

Do I really need to start up here?

Freakin' pedestals.

I'm no Superman.

Oh, holy damn, how great it felt.

The things I would do for her.

If she asked for the Universe, I would give it to her, two-fold.

Things are getting heavy, but she somehow releases me.

Faith.

Everything'll work out-- always does.

It might not be the same, people and circumstances will have changed, for. sure.

But we'll make it work.

Because they're not little boys and they'll handle it like men, not gladiators.

I always vibe correctly in whatever situation I'm put in.

It's usually just a problem with starting.

Modest beginnings.

Fine performance.

Strong finish.

That's the way it's always been, I guess.

It's not mo'fruckin' Chess.

It's not even Checkers.

It isn't a game at all, Ryan.

Stupid.

I'm juggling too many things at once right now.

It's a spicy dish that sometimes goes down hard, but I like to have my Life dish with a grain of salt.

Now would be a damn good time for a moment of clarity.

I'm just saying.

One can't truly love something until they realize its mortality.

Sometimes you just gotta be the bigger person.

As hard as I work in successfully pulling things off, I can ruin some things effortlessly without even trying.

This has been quite the taxing quarter.

Go Go Gadget can't catch a break.

What I can't admit haunts me the most?

I sometimes have to take breaks from watching Arrested Development because it reminds me of my own life.

Minus the dysfunctional famjam and the comedy (for the most part).

So, I was introduced to addiction tonight-- I mean Brawl.

There goes Spring Winter if I get my hands on a freakin' copy.

I'm just saying.

Today in the Daily Nexus there was an article about a 3-day non-violence truce between 3 major gangs in the better Santa Barbara area.

It made me smile.

And also forced me to reminisce.

You cats need to stop acting stupid and keep things at the happy equilibrium we've been working towards for years.

Too much pride.

Guys are retarded.

So unnecessary.

There's too many things going on at the moment.

This didn't need to occur right now.

You can't lose what you don't put in the middle-- but you can't win much either.

Let me be the judge of that.

Sugar bacon.

Let me be your study break.

Your relief.

=-=-=

She reminds me a masterpiece painting or series in a gallery. She draws attention in crowds and everyone knows of her mystifying and enigmatic attraction.

Aesthetically, she is pleasing beyond measure with subtle features-- a perfect culmination of comfortable vestitures of cool-tone comforts, softly blanketed by complementary layers of enhancing make-up touches.

But at night, the lights shut down and she is left in a lonely solitude whose silence screams with an emotion that no one truly hears.

I can't help but gaze upon it, and contemplate about the artist's intention.

What secrets hide in the metaphors?

What meanings are being witheld and constricted by the binds of snapshot representations?

How would my life change if I happened to steal it in the deep hours of the midnight?

=-=-=

People always talk about what I deserve.

What about what I want, hmm?

Blessed are the flexible, for they will never be out of shape.

Let's see what this Fujitsu's made of.

You'll never grow to be men if you keep acting like little boys.

=-=-=-=

Sudoku--the whole craze would confuse me. While I was off daydreaming or doodling in class, everyone around me was engulfed in their Daily Nexus papers scrambling for the Daily Sudoku, using their remaining class time to tackle it. I’d come home and my house mates would be sitting around the kitchen table wracking their brains over it. As I waited in line at the U-Cen or even at a local food joint, I’d see people with little 99 cent Sudoku books, their colorful covers trying to call out to me. You’d go to the library and people were on other websites with even more daily Sudoku puzzles. I couldn’t get away from it.

It was an epidemic that was infecting the campus-- hell, THE NATION. A sweeping horde of what they called the “samurai of puzzles.”

I refused to succumb. Not today, not tomorrow, not never. I had better things to do.

Now, have you ever tried your hand at Sudoku? It’s a little brain-teaser puzzle that is nothing more than a 9x9 grid composed of squares, sectioned off into smaller 3x3 grids within. The idea is to try and get the numbers 1-9 in each square, with no doubles in any horizontal or vertical lines or within the same 3x3 square. Sounds tricky? It is. Thankfully,they hook you up with a couple of numbers beforehand to start your journey.

I’ll be honest. To me, the whole thing just seemed like a waste of time. There were other ways I could better be spending my time and I already wasted enough of it doing stupid things anyway. Anything else on my side dish of ridiculous freedom, and it would edge out all notions of productivity within me. Really, I was just striving to save myself.

Then one fateful day, I woke up and I felt even more groggy and lazy than I usually am. I was sick. And it was raining. There was no way I was going to make it to campus that day, even in the off-chance that I had wanted to.

The TV was a bust since during the day they show nothing but kids’ programming and soap operas and sleeping was becoming more and more of a hassle to even attempt. I could only really physically move in short, miraculous bouts. Had I been in a race with a sloth at the moment, I wouldn’t have had a shred of hope for victory. If I had awoken in a graveyard instead that day, someone would have mistaken me for a zombie as I groaned and slumped my way out of it.

Now, I’m wide awake, feeling like an amoeba, and I’ve nothing to do to keep myself entertained, left only with my thoughts and let me tell you, I would much rather be in a cage match with a pride of angry lions than be left alone with my thoughts. To be stuck in one of my random streams of consciousness is a fate worse than death that I wouldn’t wish upon anybody. Trust me.

So, what’s a poor, bored and sick soul that doesn't want to ruminate himself into oblivion to do? I look over at the coffee table and see a familiar colorful cover. I don’t know if it was the medicine, but its flashy and extravagant letterings were popping out at me in a bright glory.With a faint aura emanating from it, it beckoned, “Hello… Open me, Ryan. You know you want to… Just do it, Ryan. Do it…”

That wily little bastard certainly had a way with words. My defenses had crumbled. I reached over.

I didn’t even know where to begin. Despite the vast amount of empty spaces within the entire puzzle, it was overwhelming. I looked around nervously, as if someone was looking over my shoulder, like it was a final that was graded on a live or die scale. It was hard, far harder than I had anticipated—or maybe just as hard as I feared that it was.

It was frustrating. I could memorize an entire dance in a half hour. I could drop bombs of organic chemistry knowledge just as easily as I could sing a song or rap a verse. Playing beer pong? I could explain the physics of your trajectory and tell you why your arc is so pristine. I could debate like it was my profession on the state of hip hop and R&B in the music industry and its adverse effects on the very populations that tune into it. I could sketch you, your parents, your sister, your brother, the girl he wants to marry and the guy she's cheating on him with and your dog, all in front of your house, on a rainy day and get every single detail, including every minute speck of rain, in under 20 minutes flat. I know the fastest route through Disneyland so that you could get on every ride worth doing in only half a day, regardless of the amount of people there.

But I couldn’t finish a single puzzle on a novice difficulty in under an hour.

It wasn’t the medicine. I just wasn’t as mentally prepared for it as I usually am with every other endeavor I take a stab at.

I spent the entire day with that little booklet as if I had a major crush on it, venting to it all of my frustrations and languishing for all of its little secrets and overall appeasement. What had started off a little under a quarter completed was fully solved by the time my house mate had come back home.

I owed him a dollar’s worth of Sudoku. So really, one colorfully covered paperback book. A diminutive token of appreciation for a lesson learned.

Though my health prevented me from expressing it so wildly, I basked in the glories of victory. It was a hard-fought battle, but in the end, I prevailed over that bad boy. But that’s not to say that I didn’t suffer any injuries in the heat of the match up. I was also schooled like a child, humbled a far cry beyond any other instances in my past. Who would’ve thought that in all my time here in college, my greatest opposition would be from that of a simple little puzzle.

I take that back—it is far from simple. Like many things in this world, it is composed of many degrees of complexities and, like many things in this world, is not to be underestimated.

It’s always the little things that seem to catch you off guard.

=-=-=-=

A pedestal is not where I belong.

Docking out...
-Ryan : I gots places to be

Ryan posted this at 4:47 AM.

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

 

02.05.08-2.26.08

I need to get texting back.

Seriously.

My sunrise and sunset.

She's the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about right before I go to sleep.

Even though I'm pretty sure she's awake, I hesitate to call when it's in the early morning because I don't want to run that risk that she's sleeping.

Or waking up her roomies. I'd feel bad about that too.

This is a formal apology...

to myself.

For what, you ask?

For denying myself the epic gloriousness of the entity known as Arrested Development.

How have I lived for so long without watching this?

I'm sorry.

Deeply sorry.

And for everyone who kept telling me to watch it?

I apologize to you too.

And for whoever compared me to Michael Bluth that one time and I had no idea what they were talking about?

That is a highly flattering compliment and one that I am nowhere near worthy of.

Problem: Lately, I've been finding it hard to recall certain instances, not knowing whether or not they truly did happen, are just cases of deja vu, or if I somehow dreamed them up in my sleep.

I just know that I didn't make them up because I can remember them so vividly.

Or maybe I'm just starting to go crazy.

That'd be cool-- a fun little foray into the irrational!

She is disarming in an unseemingly good way?

So, quick change of plans, but a myriad of ideas still float through my head.

Time to flip some coins. This has to go into motion soon.

Whatever goes down will hopefully be well received.

When the hell did I start getting butterflies?

Really now.

It's pathetic.

And by "pathetic" I mean "cute."

In the most sexy sense possible.

It's hot in the streets right now. Shut up. You don't know.

I am a lot of things, but selfish is not one of them.

What's a single word for "easily guilt-ridden?"

Damn... I used to know this.

I've never felt like such a jackass before.

Where is your character?

The one that keeps you going?

Nothing like a reminder of your own mortality will put you in a disconnected state.

You ever hear about phantom limbs? There are cases where patients who have had limbs amputated still feel as though they're still there-- something about nerves and neuronal miscommunication.

Anyhow, I dropped something insanely huge a few weeks ago. Something that was a big part of the better half of my life.

I lost a part of myself for the better but I'm still battling with it. Surprisingly, it even has had me contemplating over my own identity and intentions.

You hear about things back home, and you want to do what you can, but can't.

I'm not obligated.

I never was.

I just thought I was-- felt I was.

Freakin' phantom limbs.

It's unfair that I think about you all day.

I have pretty good reflexes and a crazy intuition/instinct at times.

So, believe me when I tell you that this one's gonna hurt.

I can't explain it, but I can feel it.

Disappointment is lurking in my immediate future.

And I don't know what it is, but it's on its way.

Drive slow, homie.

Hubris.

I've never really noticed it until recently.

I thought I was just confident.

Pride will be my downfall.

And here's where I don't feel good.

I won't drop the ball.

I never have.

I never will.

I'm gonna live forever.

Don't you forget it.

All I really need is to touch your lives.

In an appropriate way.

I don't believe things happen for a reason.

I believe that things happen and that people find their own reasons for those things to have happened.

There's a difference.

I've seen and experienced things that occurred out of random chance that serve no possible benefit or function far too many times to believe that.

But they're instances that you learned from.

She has a warming and motivating smile that I would fight for.

And if anyone would attempt to bring her world down, I would not hesitate to coldcock them something proper.

If I could amply articulate the way I feel at the moment, I'm certain you would all OD on how saccharine it would be.

My nyquil. My valkyrie. My cure for basorexia.

Absolutely wonderful.

Ear to ear, I can't stop smiling.

If I didn't have my filter on, every statement I say would be an adoration.

I haven't had to debate my own thoughts in my head in a long time.

That's how I know, haha.

My Valentine's better than yours...

and that's trill.

Absolutely lovely.

I like to joke that I hurt my ankle falling for her.

Which actually wouldn't be too far from the truth.

Whenever I watch America's Best Dance Crew and the Jabbas or Kaba comes up, I feel almost as if I'm watching my own kids?

I'm just so happy and proud watching them, I almost get teary-eyed?

And when it comes around to critiquing time, I'm in that whole "you best watch what you say about them, dawg!" mode and at times thinking, "What do you know about hip hop, son?"

A fackin' a-dor-a-ble groggy.

I like to think that I'm working my way towards the Ph.D of Her.

There are some who argue that the human condition is a failure from the start.

The chances are I've already been where you're going.

If you need someone to talk to, you know I'm here.

The older I grew and the more I juggled with the concept of responsibility, the more guilty and selfless I became.

I don't want to be a burden and that very notion led me for the better half of my life.

I aspired to be self-sufficient and be strong when I needed to but still be vulnerable when necessary.

In turn, I became something of a Renaissance Man, excelling in many fields, though it was never my mission.

And while my ego was never inflated, my pride was fueled something proper.

But I think that's only because with the environment I was in and the "role" that I had in it, I had to keep a cool composure.

Breaking was not an option.

If I crumbled, many other things would quickly do the same.

And while I've entirely removed myself from that world, I still have that notion to not rain on anyone's parade.

Deep down, I think I'm doing them a favor.

I don't want to be a burden.

And that's all I ever ultimately think about when I look at her.

But it's so comfortable. It's a different kind of jubilee when I'm around, with or conversing with her.

I really needed to go home this weekend.

But it's turned into something of a mixed blessing.

One more week.

It's not the nice guys or gentlemen that don't get the girl.

It's the quiet nice guys or gentlemen that don't get the girl. The ones who don't do or say anything.

How do you expect someone to know any notions of romance or affection if you treat them the same as everyone else?

That distinction has to be made.

Oh, and it has to kind of be mutual.

That's important as well.

I sometimes wonder what things would be like if I had never discovered dancing at all.

Or what if I had discovered it sooner?

What if I had learned about the competitive world earlier?

Would I still have chosen SB over other schools?

Or what if I had actually trained?

Would I even be at a UC?

Same goes with singing.

If I had been more comfortable with it as a youngin', would I have pursued it further?

Would I have opted to do more performances?

Would I have joined a group?

What if I had taken lessons?

Would I ever take it seriously and not just as a way to act stupid or serenade?

Would I still sing in the shower or while walking around campus?

Ditto for my artistic notions.

What if I had trained on the daily?

Should I have explored the use of other mediums during my adolescence?

Would I have participated in more contests and events?

Should I have done more commissions in high school?

What if I had gone to a technical art school instead?

Writing? You called it.

What would have happened if I had spent more time reading literature and prose versus playing in streets?

Is there a reason why I would randomly read the dictionary or look up grandiloquent vocabulary?

Was my verbal score trying to tell me something?

Why didn't I begin the textual process any sooner?

Why, at times, would I rather write a 10 or 15 pager as opposed to taking a 50 multiple-choice or true/false test?

How grand would the possibilities have been if I had sharpened these tools back in their infancy?

But that's only my artistic half.

My other self still pursues that knowledge of the human spirit, psyche and body.

And that's probably why I am where I am.

A little bit of a lot.

That's all I could ever think of.

I'm losing track of what day it is.

Things have become a giant list of just "what I need to get done today and tomorrow."

So, a couple weeks back, there was a Pro-Choice conference or something in the multi-purpose room in the SRB.

They put up signs that said, "[their name here] Come inside!"

And I laughed inside. Hard.

Pun intended?

You can't lose what you don't put in the middle-- but you can't win much either.

When people ask me how I'm doing, I usually reply with a smile, saying, "It's all good."

And it is.

For that moment when you ask me, it is more than likely all good.

And on any given day, I'll find a whole myriad of reasons to smile within every minute of living I am blessed with.

But just once, I would like someone to ask me how I'm doing and to be able to reply, "Not so well."

And I would like to tell them about that one thing that's bothering me, deep down-- that one pixelation of burn-in that annoyingly intrudes upon my high-definition beauty of a perspective on reality.

I would like to not push it aside and ignore it or bottle it up.

But ultimately, I tell myself that it's a stupid notion to even fancy.

In everything I see, I see Life.

And I know it's not something to take for granted.

So, my focus on the highlights isn't that bad at all.

Something good will come our way and maybe this good thing's gonna happen today.

The warmth of her embrace pretty much saved my entire week and calmed the fervor within my soul--

especially after dropping a bomb like that.

She has the power to pacify me.

I feel like a little child.

Or, like Sisters With Voices, more specifically...

because just like SWV, I get so weak in the knees.

I can hardly speak.

So much is on my mind right now.

But the train of thought always ends at the same stop.

She's probably just going for the record.

And she's well on her way, not gonna lie.

Docking out...
-Ryan : it's not every day that I build pedestals

Ryan posted this at 3:25 AM.

Sunday, January 06, 2008

 

01.06.08-01.31.08

I saw her tonight, although only maybe once and half for less than I would have liked...

but I haven't smiled inside like that in a while.

She seemed busy, perturbed even...

but she looked so lovely.

Not gonna lie.

I am being a fackin' punkassbitch right now. Or a bitchasspunk.

It's all relative.

DJ Opus' slow jam megamix on constant rotation?!

Butterflies?!

WTF, mate? What the hell is wrong with me?

I was perusing my desk today, looking for something and I found my one bottle of cologne.

I haven't... worn? ...sprayed? ...used it in a long time.

Guess what it's called?

BOSS.

Hahaha... Life, you're a clever li'l bastard, aren't you?

Oh-- the paper's here!

I'm behind on something that's not academically related. I just know it.

I can feel it.

I'm so glad that I didn't have to go home this weekend for those reasons.

That's one bridge burned.

Something I haven't done in years.

I've never been the type to bury something for good.

Have you ever woken up with your shirt on backwards?

You wake up and everything's the same, just how you left it.

But something just doesn't feel right?

I'm in this funk and I don't know what it is.

But I do know that I miss her.

I miss her when I go to sleep at night.

I miss her when I wake up.

I miss her when I go for a walk.

I miss her during class.

I miss her when jamming to music.

I miss her all the time.

I miss her when she's next to me.

So, why did my walls throw themselves up all of a sudden?

I don't think it's reluctance on behalf of my mental defenses.

It's this funk, man.

What is with this FUNK?

It is annoying me like no other.

I read through my yearbook again tonight.

Why do I need these reminders?

Why can't things be at that tilted equilibrium all the time?

This is it.

The last thing. The last time.

Then I'm done.

How I treat you is merely a reflection of the way you act.

So, don't push it.

I'm not happy with my choreo.

If only I had ample time to bust out something.

It's hard being alone on this island.

But that's my bad?



"I didn't even realize you knew what a sad face was."

Yesterday cracked open my safe and an onslaught of memories kept me up and continued to linger even after I woke up... at 5 in the PM.

It amazes me how selfish society and the individual can be.

There were two cars in front of us.

They just took off.

They took off, knowing that an accident had just occurred, that there was that potential chance that someone might seriously be injured.

But it wasn't their problem.

They just took off.

My heart stopped beating about roughly 12 hours ago.

It was fine before, maybe beating at a higher rate than it should be. I was in such a good groove, in the mind set that nothing could get me down, smiles abounding.

Now I fear that I'm going to start distancing myself from everyone.

More importantly, from her, as I'm going to have to get a handle on my emotions after what happened today.

It's already begun.

Watch as this disconnection starts to happen.

But only for a little while.

I've been through this before. It'll pass.

But it's never easy.

It's scary how I'll internalize it all.

It's even scarier how my mind will immediately crystalize in order to prep for the outcome of anything.

But I was ready to kill or to push or to lift or to do God knows what else I would have needed to do.

Relief.

What a relief it was to see them, despite the dispersive scramble and panic.

But I can't get the scenario out of my mind.

The looks on their faces.

The consternation.

It's something you never really want to see or forget once you have.

Refund?

I don't give a shit.

That is the furthest thing from my mind.

I would have gladly paid more for your safety and for the event to have never occurred.

I shot myself in the foot. I know I did.

Here's to hoping.

I can tell they're from San Marcos if they call me "Ryanmose" and not just "Ryan."

I might get a little carried away...

but I love the stage. It's one of the few places where I feel completely comfortable.

Things I would like to do in the rain: puddle jump and run around in it, dance and groove in it under the moonlight, sing outside your window in it without an umbrella or even a sweater.

I would like to do those things.

I wouldn't mind being sick, but the rest of the stuff on my agenda are dependent on my health.

So, boo.

I'm going to have to get drawn soon.

I haven't told anyone, but...

Nevermind.

That's not the way I think.

You know what I like?

Having a really crappy rough draft or unfinished exhibition.

Then I wait.

Then, when that push comes to shove, I start the crack.

I burst.

I bust out.

And it's beautiful.

The bar has been set so low, no one expects or is ready for that onslaught of flow.

And in the end, they're glad that they're soaking wet.

It's not really about impressing them.

It's their expressions on their faces.

They weren't expecting something of that caliber.

What's even better?

I just blew their minds.

And there's nothing they could have done about it.

I was complimented on my writing.

By someone who's published, who's accredited.

Affirmation.

So, he's found his way out of the muck.

The happiness experienced cannot even be put into words.

The greatest elations I've ever known: a breakthrough in another's life, a random act of aid for a stranger and making a significant other's day.

If I can constantly surround myself by these instances, I think I'll be set.

I look back on how angry I was back then and the environment that I was in.

I still remember the moment that all changed, the cessation of my externalizing it.

I think back on how little I gained and how much I lost and the potential that I'll never be able to reclaim.

It changed situations, but it never truly alleviated all my troubles.

The rage was like energy-- never to be created nor destroyed, just transferred.

The moment when I began to internalize it and siphon it through other methods of expression and relief...

It has made all the difference in my life.

Do you know something I don't?

"You've got a serious step."

Dance your way into oblivion.

This... is not my couch?

My arms spring out with an intensity unknown to me before.

It takes a lot of restraint on my part.

I guess I said a name aloud while I was sleeping.

They asked me who it was.

I stay up later sometimes, 'cause I know her sleeping pattern resembles mine.

Maybe she'll sign, maybe she won't, but I stave off sleep. That chance is more than enough.

Even if she just signs on to put up an away message about how she's going to sleep and the only exchange is that of our G*nights.

She's worth falling asleep in class for.

Or skipping it because I've overslept.

Again.

Waiting and thinking of her.

Apparently, everyone but me knows what's best for me?

Spit game?

What are we? In high school?

Soft hands.

It's definite.

I'm drawn to her.

I find that I really have to try when leaving her side or ending a conversation with her.

It's a little unfair.

I would take more than bullets for her.

I'm making some necessary changes.

Things need to get taken care of before I can continue on with anything else.

It's my turn to be selfish.

My, my, my... I never get nervous.

But I did.

And it was over nothing.

Okay, maybe not over nothing, but definitely over something that most would consider minute or mundane.

I've been infected by a virus and it is overriding my operating system.

Thoughts spring up like pop-ups and I'm not quick enough to dismiss them all.

But all these sweet thoughts and feelings hold no value if they aren't expressed.

Mental note: don't be pushing yourself too hard, dawg.

My body hates me at the moment.

My apologies, body. I love you. You know I do.

We're a winning team. Don't worry.

You'll recover and we'll again be on top, son!

Keep your head up.

So, I keep it to myself.

'Cause that's what I do with everyone minus the ones that are in my inner-most circle.

And I'm talking inner-most circle here.

No, not that inner-most circle. Get your head out of the gutter.

I've been drawing the same things lately, singing only a small rotations of song.

I can't wait until I can open fire.

But Life, you know? It has a freakin' gatling gun.

And it's the only thing keeping distance between me and where I wanna be.

Her.

=-=-=

Articulation failing.

And in the middle of the torrent of thoughts that whirl inside my head, an anchoring thought holds me down.

That familiar blanket of calm enshrouds me.

I smile and I drift into the dreams that only a romantic can conjure up.

She's become something of my Nyquil.

=-=-=

Comfort.

Especially in her presence.

Warmth. Ease. Tranquility.

I get lost in it, almost meditative.

Everything dissipates and I find myself in a relaxed serenity.

And that smile...

I melt.

I become another entity in her welcoming ocean, basking in her joyous waters of an unfathomable depth.

...But I'm still tethered to the docks.

Knives will not cut such a mental ballast.

Just cut, dammit.

Cut.

Docking out...
-Ryan : power overwhelming

Ryan posted this at 11:53 PM.

Saturday, December 08, 2007

 

12.08.07-12.27.07

It's all good.

"Can he just do that?"

"Sure, he can. He's Ryan-Mose."

I'm just trying to get back to what really matters. I'm trying to search my soul to find out what I'm after.

"I don't know if now, having lived and died the life of a man, I can write about little-boy love, but remembering it now, it seems the cleanest pain I've known. Love without desire, or conditions, or limits-- a pure and radiant glow in the heart that could make me giddy and sad and glorious all at once. Where does it go? Why, in all their experiments, did the Magi never try to capture that purity in a bottle?"

So, you tell yourself you're not the one.

And you bury it, move on.

But you realize you can't keep living like that.

Or can you?

I went to Target with $30, with the utmost intention on buying some new bedding... stuff... things.

There is so much that goes on a bed. It has its own jargon.

I think I was looking for a comforter? I'm not sure. I think. Yeah... no. Something.

Anyhow, I left Tar-shay with 3 DVD's and a Dr Pepper instead.

"Robin Hood: Men in Tights," "Children of Men" and "The Last King of Scotland."

I've only seen Robin Hood, of those three.

...Who wants to break them in with me?

I don't know why I do those little things.

I think it's because it makes me feel like I'm worth something, that good and selfless deeds still existence without intention.

It makes me feel... human.

"I'm completely incapable of taking care of myself, now that I have only myself to take care of. I used to be motivated, conscientious, and dependable, but on my own I am utterly inept. There is no one to do things for, no one to [give] all my attention or ... my efforts, no one [to provide] some purpose for me."

=-=-=-=-=

She is heavily guarded.

A complex mechanism of sorts, the lights of her affections sometimes shine through the gears of her insecurities in moments of brevity.

But the defenses of her fortress quickly put up those stalwart walls of deflection and the only company she is left with are paintings of her histories that litter the deepest depths of the establishment.

They are heavily fused into the hallways and rooms they inhabit and use them as conduits for their strangleholds and haunts.

She is trapped. A victim of her past.

A lonely princess imprisoned in her tower of memories and emotions, singing dirges of a wailing loneliness and longing.

Despite a languish for relief, caution continues to construct its obstacles.

They exponentially birth themselves through her hesitations until her composition is that of an enigma, a labyrinth that even she cannot get out of.

Little does she know, she contains the power to rid the entire countryside of these twisted creations.

It is encapsulated in a jeweled heart that she carries, the complete opposite of Pandora's Box.

All she must do is revive it from its jaded state.

Its beating existence will bring a light and warmth that will reverse the adverse effects of the bitter cold that had hardened it in the first place.

Its power is limitless.

=-=-=-=-=

He used to be that way. He found a way out.

But he now travels in self-deprecation, his own worst enemy.

All I've been doing is looking through cross-hairs.

I can't pull the trigger.

I realized I haven't been able to in a while.

Where are you right now?

If anything, I just believe in Time.

It's intangible, but yet you acknowledge its existence or, if anything, its concept.

It heals the bulk of everything and, in the end all, it is always the victor.

It is always in effect and is omnipotent.

Time doesn't have plans. It just continues.

It is a regulator and an enabler.

It will spontaenously cause things to happen all at once.

It brings birth and love. It brings death and grief.

Time is the Alpha and the Omega.

How joyous it is to know that you've made a difference and/or an impact in another's life.

Awwwwwkward turtle.

I'm being introduced as an "old friend" now?

I guess old wounds do heal.

But those scars still remain.

I know that this will pass.

It just sucks that it has to happen.

"'You gotta stay cold inside.'
That's what I tell myself when I feel alone sometimes.
But I can't cry. I don't tear [any] more.
I love [life], so death I don't fear [any] more "

Whenever there were problems, I was the one to fix things.

So, when it comes to matters of the self, I keep them to myself.

I've failed my team, my peers, my supporters and more importantly, I've failed myself.

Time to remedy.

People often have this idea of the perfect girl for me, the type of girl that I'll end up with.

It's flattering, but it's something that I can't take seriously.

So, they ask me about the type of traits I would be interested in in a girl.

Comfortable.

And that's all there is to it for me.

There's so much to fall in love with that another being could possibly possess.

A girl could be banging, in all aspects, but I might not have a inkling of intimate, affectionate or genuine attraction to her.

Besdies, when you're in it, you start to fall in love with all those little things anyhow.

It's not a trait or a characteristic that I look for.

It's a feeling.

I don't look for anything.

I just happen upon.

I smile inside every time I see her, not gonna lie.

Let me be your study break.

I either see the Flower Guy everyday or I take a risk.

If I don't end up with a very good GPA this quarter, I'm going to be both heavily confused and disappointed.

It just wouldn't make sense.

I have a sleeping pattern that doesn't exactly agree with the way our society works.

Late nights, late afternoons.

It doesn't help at all that I have the hardest time waking up. I can't help it.

My friend sent me these links-- these new alarm clocks are straight up nuts.

There's one that shoots out puzzle pieces and the alarm doesn't turn off until you find all of them and put it back together.

Still, my favorite is one that actually has wheels and it literally jumps off your shelf and finds a place to hide.

I can just imagine someone just bumping into everything trying to find that bad boy.

What if it gets into an inaccessible place?

That's balls.

I think what I miss most about high school is that academics weren't a worry to me at all.

I could do as I pleased and it wasn't a burden.

I also miss that daily interaction with all of my peers and the fact that there was that opportunity every day to make someone's day.

I think that's what I miss the most--

Committing good deeds, doing little things for people, holding doors and greeting every one during passing periods before classes started.

Smiles will motivate you to do a lot of things.

It all adds up.

You know, I hear that all the time. Really, I appreciate it.

But it gets old sometimes.

I was never really comfortable with talking about myself.

That is, whenever we were given prompts asking about our best characteristics and whatnot, I wasn't quite sure how to answer them.

There was always that problem of coming off as egotistical and self-indulgent, and that's something that I was never quite fond of.

I'm not even good at receiving compliments.

I am...

a little bit of a lot.

That's all I could ever really think of.

I never envisioned or attempted to do everything or even do it well.

It just sort of happened.

If a situation presents itself, I'm not necessarily going to throw myself out of it if I don't need to.

I was always quick to learn and quick to retort. I never considered things as talents so much as they were things that I did when I was bored.

And the only thing that ever pushed my buttons were people acting out of line.

For whatever reason, I could sit for hours and listen to people and genuinely feel something.

How did I develop in such a way while others did not?

It's a little bit of a lot.

That's all I could ever really think of.

Winter break's about to commence, but it's odd.

I already feel like I've been on a break.

Going back home really isn't much of a vacation anymore.

There's not much to do. Everyone is at the point in our college careers where we're all so busy.

Even those who aren't are busy with other things and building up potential careers.

Reality always kicks in.

There are real problems everywhere, and I get pulled into them in one way or another.

It's nice to visit for a weekend or even a week at most.

But what am I going to do for 3 entire weeks?

It's going to be cool for at least the first week.

But I know I'm going to get bored.

But that happens everywhere I reside long enough.

=-=-=-=-=

What do you do when all the sweet things that you want to say cannot be expressed at the moments when they pop into your head because of a certain ridiculous manner of insecure discretion?

You seem to be waiting for the right moment, and you know that it's on its way-- things always tend to fall right into place, especially for you.

But what is the maximum capacity for all of those unheard adorations? How long do you think you can go on without citing those verbal affirmations of affection?

You figure since you cannot participate in those nurturing antics in a public realm, you can put to text the various jubilations that she aids in creating or put in image the butterflies she births deep within you and the way she easily makes your whole body brilliantly smile.

But you cannot.

You find that every attempt to conjure up something worthy of her name is an utter failure, unable to truly capture her essence or the romantic binds that hold you.

She is disarming in an unseemingly good way.

All my offensive fronts and my defensive aversions dissipate whenever I'm in her presence or enjoying the exchanges of her ample and witty banter.

When those gears get to grinding, what she speaks is highly relevant and composed of a high level of intellect.

Indeed, there is that share of utter nonsense, but it passes the time in such a welcomingly way and I find that I'm no longer losing hours but, rather, gaining moments of felicity.

Serendipity seems to be a common ingredient in the recipes we're constantly concocting, the flexible and fugacious nature of our personalities aid in forming spontaneous and transient instances of relief and humor.

What is ultimately drawn from the culmination of our "comportments" is something of extreme comfort.

The copacetic ambiance that I've been in deep search of for who knows how long?

It has possibly been found.

It is both exhilarating and, at the same time, consternation-inducing.

But she has a smile that could heal a million souls or stop even Death right in his tracks.

And it's something that I could gaze at for hours on end, if not forever.

I want to heal her sorrow, to provide her with the quintessential ideal of happiness.

A world without boundaries, where shadow can fall in love with flame.

One day, she will know all the joys that she makes me feel.

=-=-=-=-=

Docking out...
-Ryan : strong enough for a man, but made for a woman

Ryan posted this at 4:58 AM.

Saturday, November 03, 2007

 

11.03.07-11.29.07

So clutch.

But I don't want to be relying on that.

You know, I wish I could drown my sorrows in those ways like some of you.

But I can't.

I can't because the risk of that for me is death.

And that's a far cry worse than anything that can be thrown at me at the moment.

It is for you too.

Really-- it could be a lot worse, my friend.

I've been finding it so hard to focus.

The only person that has the power to discourage you is yourself.

Words only have as much power are you allow them to.

It's like those who are trying to reform "women" to "womyn."

By sticking by this new spelling, they themselves are acknowledging and implying that the word "women" lacks power and that the "-men" contained delineates it.

It's a word. It's not marginalizing them. They're inducing the "strangle" it has against them.

They should instead focus their value and pride within the original spelling.

You claim power into a certain symbol and it becomes just that.

Really? Is this really happening?

Is it even a good time?

What a buckling smile this one has.

Does this hold any potential at all?

Why am I thinking about it so hard, more importantly?

I think a major downfall of most people is that they want to be noticed.

Just let it go.

You'll find that things'll happen to you more often.

Trust me.

If I told you what you really look like... you'd be flattered.

Talent's over-rated if you're laying in the dirt. Don't be jerk-- you owe it yourself to make it work.

Why does it seem like "bad" people live longer?

It's never been proven, but even if it is true, there could be a multitude of reasons.

"Bad" people wouldn't get as much sympathy, so maybe there's less attention brought to their mourning or whatnot.

I just like to think that "good" people have already "figured it out" and so their time "here" is really just a "waste" in the bigger scheme of things.

Damn you, Chris Brown.

I've always wanted to cover that song.

For the first time this year, I fail, in my own eyes.

It's not a feeling that you can shake so easily.

I can't help but feel responsible.

Making plays and making changes.

Adaptation-- that's what's up.

You know what feeling I've been missing lately?

The feeling of doing that one little thing for that person, knowing that it brings them pleasure.

And also being aware that no one else has that knowledge, nor could they ever hope to reproduce something of the same magnitude.

And it makes your whole being smile.

Yeah, that feeling.

I remember this one instance, waaaay back in the day. Maybe middle school?

It was when Super Smash Bros. for the N64 had recently come out and the N64 was still hot on the market.

I was at a Best Buy or a Fry's or something that had the game on display. You know, where it's in the middle of the aisle and people are free to play it?

I remember standing there and watching this kid just whomp on people, adults even.

And he was running his mouth like his ish didn't stink. It was rather annoying. I really don't believe in gloating unless it's really necessary.

So, it came to be my turn and I must've been there for over an hour. It was just me and him.

I humbled him something proper. He started yelling profanities and whining like a little punk.

I think what really got him was the fact that he was my senior by a couple years and he couldn't even step to me at a decent level.

I just smiled and walked away while he fumed to himself, yelling at me. He wanted a victory, and he wasn't just going to let me walk away undefeated. But I did. There wasn't a thing he could do.

And there he stood, just further making a complete ass out of himself.

I felt modestly accomplished. Granted, it was just a video game, but it was that day I discovered how much I loved masking my abilities, and then using them to shut people up.

Man, it felt good.

I'm rather fond of surprising people. Even moreso, I love putting people in check.

Keeps them on their toes, I would like to think.

It doesn't matter that bad things happen to you. Bad things happen to all of us.

Some people have more problems than others, but we all have problems, regardless.

What does matter is how you deal with it.

Now, you can deal with it like a failure or you can deal with it like a champion.

Man up and prove your worth.

Prove it not to me, not to your peers, not to your parents.

Prove it to yourself.

I really hate this phrase, but...

"Stop acting like a little girl."

I think a major problem for most guys is that they're afraid of just having platonic friendships.

Get over yourselves.

There's a difference between thinking you're a G and actually being a G.

Good decisions rarely make for good stories.

You can't save everyone.

And this is my life.

I've been dreaming about her a lot lately when perhaps I shouldn't be.

Here I am. I make my stand. I refuse to sleep a wink...

'cause it's you I see when I close my eyes, even when I blink.

The month's almost over and a not a single piece of prose. Sad face. Tear.

Martial artists are able to do what they do because they constantly expose their bodes through rigorous dangers. By fracturing their bones, they allow them to heal and calcify, making them stronger than before.

The nomads make the desert no less than they are made by it.

Turn it upside down-- now does it seem the same?

Autonomy is an important thing.

I sometimes feel like my life is a show, and I'm narrating the end where the big idea of the episode is broken down.

Always performing?

So, I usually doing an image or an e-card for every holiday.

I didn't have time to do one for either Halloween or Thanksgiving this year.

The thought made me frown.

I conjured up an exquisite piece of writing in my head a couple of days back, but I was unable to write it down at the time and now I cannot recall verbatim the exact wording.

That thought made me frown as well because it was beautiful and so very encapsulating of how she makes me feel.

Freestyle versus choreo.

That's just life.

Hurt feelings. Stupid arguments.

People are inherently selfish and misplace value into things.

You realize how he's only in that position because he survived, right?

You really want to be apart of that?

Like plastic surgery, I only believe in working out for health, not aesthetics.

I know the existence of an unconditional hug, free from false intention or draperies of guile.

I've experienced losing the feelings within my legs, what some refer to as getting "weak in the knees."

To be kissed with a passion so deeply that you find yourself falling welcomely into a void whose only source of light are nothing but the reflections from the eyes of the one opposite you is a scenario that I've been trapped in before.

It's not mythological. It's not fantasy. It's something that infinitely exists.

And it's something that, if I don't have, I will continue to strive for. Something of that magnitude is worth the patience, worth the distraction and worth the potential pain because the grievances of the lows are nothing in comparison to the glories of the ups.

Something like apotheosis.

So keep on keeping on, mo'fruckah!

So, I realized what that strange lurking within me was-- it was intuition.

I don't understand how it even came to this point.

Don't make me do this.

Don't be stupid.

You're smarter than this-- I know this.

You start on that, and I start on you.

...and you know how I roll.

It's deep.

You're above this.

Constant pain all around me.

She gave me this look that just made me want to hold her in my arms.

Jammit.

Stop making wishes and start making plays.

You ever wake up with your shirt on backwards?

I've been playing with that analogy a lot lately. My apologies.

I am currently battling with an emotion unfamiliar to me.

There's a restlessness within the confines of myself that has been whittling down the "me" that I am accustomed to.

I try to rekindle my relationship with myself, but it's as if there's a newly punctured hole in my tank who continually siphons my ardor.

You know, I thought I found myself a long time ago.

But lately, I'm not so sure.

What am I living for?

Who am I living for?

I am capable of intense focus, I noticed.

It's almost sleep-like.

I'm able to create such an empty void in my head-- the lack of visuals heightens my sense of hearing and smell.

It's intense.

Is that what deep meditation is?

TBS keeps showing 40 Days and 40 Nights and Harold and Kumar: Go To White Castle.

Yeeeeeah.

I'm so hoooood.

I can't but feel responsible.

I'm not being a good leader at the moment.

How could I let things build up in such a manner?

What kind of example am I setting?

I can handle it if you can.

I'm seeing a lot more Asians on campus this year. That's always cool.

The world'll continue to turn, with or without me.

Comfortable.

Such a distraction-- but a good one.

No... don't you do it, Ryan Mose.

Don't you do it.

"Research has shown that telling a teacher that a pupil will bloom intellectually over the next year results in an increase in the pupil's IQ score. In short, teachers' expectations can influence students' performances."

Dating back to even when the Greeks were busy creating myths and legends, there have been numerous documentations and stories of dolphins protecting those within the confines of the ocean from debris and predators. Their weapon of choice?

A ring of protection.

I can write stories, I just can't tell them very well.

Same with directions. Kind of.

I know how to get to places, and I could probably tell you, but I hardly remember street names.

Crackin' Mondays, I heard?

Getting kicked out of a 24 hour Mexican food joint?

That's just how BADASSes roll, I suppose.

Time management? I lack it.

I might have added too much to my plate currently, but it's nothing I can't handle.

Fatigue-- it's getting to me.

I'm getting that restless feeling, like I'm tanked.

It's never been this bad before.

Some would say it's about the trip, not the destination.

Like waking up with your shirt on backwards.

You ever feel like your life is a movie or a TV show?

You're only "really living" if you have yourself some scars.

While the time goes, "...tick, tock, tick, tock..."

You see what I'm doing here?

Right here? Right now?

I'm changing subjects.

Yeah.

I'm pretty good at that sometimes.

You know what's great about coming home in November?

Leftover Halloween candy.

Yeeeeeeah.

The only thing more dangerous than someone who has nothing to lose is someone who is fighting for something or someone other than himself.

So, this weekend's supposed to be a getaway?

Not so much.

I'm a Taurus-- a grip of pride, they say.

Never really bought it.

I have enough pride to put it aside.

It's troubling, some of the things that our generation inputs value into.

You are one to talk.

Sure, they may have done things that moral society wouldn't agree with, but at the time, those were their only options as their backs were up against the wall. I'd like to know what you would've done if faced with those situations.

They're still people and they're still capable of making good, not only in themselves, but in this world.

I'll be damned if anyone attempts to take that away from them.

Everyone's had a tattered past. What makes you so special?

You're not that cool.

They are better people than you'll ever be. Get over yourself.

There's been a lot of talk lately about things that have transpired in the past and the events that have shaped people.

A lot of talk about key moments in one's history, and how much of an impact they have on these individuals.

A lot of talk concerning what and what isn't deserved.

A lot of talk of how some things do and don't leave you.

A lot of talk of how certain ghosts continue to haunt certain people.

A lot of talk about dwelling.

A lot of talk about moving on.

A lot of talk dealing with distractions.

A lot of talk that affects me in ways they don't realize.

Complement, not suplement.

You know not the glory of your own existence.

I welcome being sick because it actually gives me a break.

It gives me a break from school and all the things that constantly keep me "busy."

It gives me time to sit back, ruminate, reflect and re-evaluate everything around me and it's a reminder that there's more out there than just work.

It annoys me, not because of the fact I'm physically unwell, but because of the fact that my physical hindrance is stopping me from enjoying my day doing something I want to.

People say "carpe diem" and to "seize the day."

Well, I'll tell you that you can't do that. Not with the way life is structured as is.

You can, however, enjoy the day.

And I think that's what it comes down to.

Enjoy the day.

Or I'll fight you.

I remember all of your dreams.

I will protect everyone.

You gotta ask yourself, "Why are you still here?"

I know you want to hold on to and cherish those good memories, but you have to compare their weight and value to all the discourse that's occurring.

There are so many things in life that can make you just as happy and even more frequently.

It's one thing to be selfish, but you have to also think about the both of you.

Is it really worth it?

The same goes for the other end of the situation.

You may have been damaged in the past and you're coasting as of right now...

but could you be happier?

There's always that chance.

Always.

Original Mind Ninja, don't you forget it.

It's at that point again where I'm not the one reminding myself-- it's others that are reminding me that I'm Ryan Mose.

If only I were that cool.

My life is like a mine-field.

Except the mines come in two flavors: heart-to-hearts and tragedies.

Tragedies ranging from 1-10. 1 equating to "not really tragic, but really a downer." 10 equating to "I don't feel like moving today."

Heart-to-hearts ranging from 1-10. 1 being "oh, this is fun." 10 being "if I don't get this off my chest, I might kill someone."

One day she will experience all the joys that I know of, once again flourishing in what it is to just plainly exist and to feel.

Here's an idea: talk to the girl.

It seems at the moment that my only ambition are others' emergence and copacetics.

Smiles will motivate you to do a lot of things.

I love when you're walking around and you make eye contact with someone and you both just smile at each other.

And then you have that fraction-of-a-second flash of thought in your head, so you ask them how they're doing, and they reciprocate notions of banter.

And you've just made a connection in both of your lives, no matter how small.

You're now acquaintances.

And the best part is when you see these people often on campus-- and you realize that you would've seen them just as often, but you're just now aware of it because you took the time to bridge that gap.

I ran across some of my old burnt CD's that I brought up to rip from.

Those are some definite jams on those badboys.

But I was looking at some of the titles: Romancing #1-10? Basorexia #1-5? Groove Theory #1-10?

The sad part is that they worked?

Oh, man... I would totally have a problem with myself if I had met myself back then now.

If that made any sense.

My, how I have grown.

I wear the night like a cloak 'cause I move with the stars.

I wish there were more hours in the day.

I wish I had an excuse.

I wish I didn't have such a good lock on my emotions.

My apartment smells like quesarritos right now and it's making me hungry.

But I don't have a car up here.

I am this close to running on empty.

Tragic, really.

I can be the coolest person when I'm quite satiated.

But I can have the coolest demeanor when I'm not.

This is where that nice kick to the face from a closely personal someone would come in handy.

Why put up with that?

There's this general notion in society that a female is the one to be taken care of, to be cradled.

A woman should be able to stand on her own, in full glory, rightfully so, just as any man is favored to.

Those echelons shouldn't exist.

We shouldn't be taking care of them-- we should be supporting them.

Everyone believes that they should get theirs and that they're deserving of it all.

Well, I'll tell you, life consists of a tug and pull, of an ebb and flow.

You gotta give to get.

Be grateful. Be respectful.

In all seriousness.

Locking up, son. No reversion here.

I refuse to be that man-- nay, that boy, again.

'Cause deep down I'm still a G.

It's not that easy.

I say nice things.

But I never lie.

I would never let somebody break you down.

I try to live in a way that I don't have to ask, "What if?"

I'm not any stronger than you are.

You just don't realize it.

"You're really good at planting seeds."

But do I ever bear the fruit?

Am I just musing again?

Let's just make this easier for everyone: don't develop any feelings for me.

If you have a vagina, I'm not talking to you for a while.

Thank you. You're welcome.

'Cause these girls, they're like kryptonite.

Little boys mess it up for men.

Docking out...
-Ryan : understand... girl, I'm a different brand

Ryan posted this at 3:09 AM.