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.

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

 

10.02.07-10.31.07

I think I've said it before, but I try not to look into people's eyes as much as I can.

I'll look at them, their faces, but never really their eyes.

I can't handle it sometimes.

You can sense and even tell so much about a person just by looking in their eyes.

Perhaps I'm scared that the reverse is being worked on me.

I relate to almost every song that I hear.

Is that a good or a bad thing?

Little boys mess it up for men.

How exactly does one move their body like a cyclone?

Can't anyone just say that these girlies gyrate quite well, that they adequately twork in their motions?

That doesn't count for dancing, by the by. I'm just saying.

Nothing against the Greek system.

Both of my elder brothers were in frats.

I'd just rather not.

I think the death of me is that realization, that awareness.

When I'm conscious of it, I become overly so, and in trying to combat and balance that, I end up ignoring and neglecting it.

I'm too used to things just falling into place.

I feel like I've passed my own peak, used up all my luck.

Find what's important to you and do what you gotta do.

"Don't you realize that you are a champion in their eyes?"

I can't read minds. Shocking, I know.

Apparently, there's a limit to how many videos you can favorite on YouTube.

It's 500, and I've hit it.

The limit, I mean.

Half of them are dance videos.

I am a sick, sick man.

Literally.

I'm coughing, wheezing AND sneezing like no other right now.

It's kind of... impressive, actually.

Someone come take care of me!

And they all scream, "Somebody's got to hear my story!"

And I listen.

But am I a weaker or stronger person in doing so?

I feel like I need to write soon.

But there a lot of projects I need to catch up on.

Stop giving me reasons, please. I can't stand being in this position.

But I'm putting myself in it, so I'll deal with the consequences.

Awkward turtle.

It's amazing how quickly the odds can stack up against you.

Cockiness is annoying.

I find better satisfaction in earning that regard from others than imposing it on others.

I think the issue with most people is that they focus on the wrong things.

With something as fickle as life, why would you want to spend your time putting value into petty things?

Forgive me if I don't pander to your little dramas. When one begins to speak on such things, I start thinking about the bigger matters at hand.

Why do you constantly have these dramas? Why put yourselves in such positions? Why do you let things affect you in such ways? Why do you insist on maintaining your verbal fictions are true when they obviously are not?

A question never asked.

Homie, be cool.

No one even knows, so what do you expect?

No one even knows.

Do you even know?

You were beginning to question it.

But then you get this feeling.

This never happens. To you.

Ever.

She requires more than a few lines of text, but I'm inarticulate at the moment. My apologies.

I think I'll tattoo my name on my neck like J. Holiday. You know, just in case I forget.

I could just look in the mirror and notice a stupid inking on my neck, in reverse, and my piqued curiousity will help realize that that's my name!

Maye it's just me, I don't know, but I am one sloppy tooth-brusher. I get foam all over my mouth and sometimes, it just slops out. There must be some sort of cool technique that I'm missing out on.

Is there a direct correlation between foam and how many microorganisms are residing in your mouth? Is all the foam the cellular death of all that bacteria?

'Cause if so, then damn, celebrities have clean mouths. In every movie I see where people are brushing their teeth, they never even have an inkling of semblance to the foam party that's happening in my mouth. Even when they pause to spit, it's in modest amounts. The hell?

They even have dialogue when brushing. There's no way I can talk while brushing, it'd just get everywhere. My mirror is a testament to that sometimes-- there's blotches every now and then near and around the sink.

It's amazing how much mucous your body can produce.

I've always wondered: do viral communities build-up in your throat and esophagus, or do they just somehow get transported there so that your body can expel them by coughing?

Same goes for the nose.

Or does it just happened to be that in those particular areas, that's how they are excised as opposed to other parts of the body where your body's immunities take them on on a miniscule level?

These are the types of things I think about sometimes. I'm retarded, I know.

The better part of yesterday and today were the first instances in which I've wasted time in a long while.

I became a busy-body and I'm feeling that restlessness that I had long thought was a myth.

Scary stuff, mang. Scary stuff.

I need to write something soon. Just to get it out of my system.

There is only one reason I keep going to my MCDB lab, and that reason is because I'm immature.

Every time I go there, I hear at least 3 statements that can be heavily misconstrued and I can't help but laugh to myself or one of my dope lab partners and write them down.

Here is but just a taste of the madness:

"Am I going all the way down?" -Dood
"You wanna put it in the hole, but not all the way in." -Young Lady
"I'm spreading my seed." -Homie G-Slice
"Did you get to shoot the stuff in?" -Lovely

...and my current favorite...

"Gently stick the tip in..." -My unknowing TA, Nathan

You're welcome.

I'm a beast on the microphone, smooth flow and tone. -- I'll make a million dollars off of ring tones alone.

Check it.

Usually when I dream about someone, I let it go.

Dreams are a whole lot of randominity and obnoxicity.

But you have somehow infiltrated my mental cinematic theater for 5 days in row now.

Are you trying to go for the record or something?

=-=-=

And in the still of the night, he awoke to see a body next to his.

Half-asleep, he sat up to check who it was.

The room was dimly moonlit, but he'll swear that as soon as he recognized that quirky little half-smile, it radiated every dark corner of that small hotel room.

All he could think about was how she sleeps like an angel and how he wouldn't mind waking up to that in the middle of the night or on random mornings.

She shivered a little and she re-positioned herself within the cramped area that she occupied, her blanket half-covering her.

Grabbing its ends, he made sure that she was fully enshrouded to combat the cold blast from the air conditioner, wishing that he could serve as a substitute for the blanket's warm entanglement of a hug.

He maneuvered himself a little ways over so that at some other point in the evening, she could capitalize and give herself more room for comfort.

He rolled over to make sure he wasn't facing her direction.

How complicated would things become if he got himself involved?

=-=-=

All gave some, some gave all.

Tragedy has befallen many of us.

But I have to remain strong...

for myself, for my peers, for my team.

I am the most frontingest.

Maybe it's the fatigue, but I don't feel like I'm doing things as well as I should be.

This weekend was murder on my stamina, but it was well worth the physical taxation.

Although, something happened that negated many things that I've been trying to combat for the past year.

I can't help but feel responsible.

I am never satisfied with my work.

It can sometimes be a problem.

Here you go, Ryan Mose-- it's time to prove that you're worth a damn.

Late night commercials are ridiculous.

I think this year's overarching goal is... expansion.

Trying to find positive outlets for what talent I do have.

The idea of self has become somewhat vague as of late.

I know how I was back in the day.

And I know how I was a year ago.

Am I who I am right now or am I acting out, a reaction towards my current environment?

Am I being who I truly want to be?

Get out of my head, will you?

So, there's this class I'm taking and it's basically Inside the Actor's Studio, but for artists.

I am in love with this class. If it were personified as woman, I'd probably hit on her, not gonna lie.

These artist create an intimate setting, showcase and talk about their art and what inspired, drove and brought them to these points in their lives.

I connect with them in their mindset and in their work and am pulling so much from these people.

As an artist, experimentation is a heavy part of you and you learn to mess up-- even moreso, you learn that it's necessary.

If you aren't strong enough without them , you won't be strong enough with them.

The quarter just started and I already feel like there aren't enough hours in the day.

Just you wait until the ball starts rolling, homie.

Not going to let it hold me in its clutches.

This duration of peace has lasted long enough.

The elite weaponry must prove its worth once again.

I'm awaiting declarations of war.

I'm only good when taken in moderation.

Prolong dosages of me can kill a person.

Seriously.

I've seen people OD from too much before.

It's a curse.

"What if, on a crowded street, you looked up and see something appear that should not, given what we know, be there. You either shake your head and dismiss it, or you accept that there is much more to the world than we think. Perhaps it really is a doorway to another place. If you choose to go inside you may find many unexpected things."

This quarter is different than the others.

I'm going to all my classes and sections-- willingly.

I'm happy that I've reintroduced myself to the arts and that it has worked its way once again into my daily schedules.

I'm coming to terms with the fact that perhaps my artistic side is my better half.

I am an artist.

First and foremost, it has finally claimed its prominence in my composite.

So, at the moment, I am anxious and excited about the new team.

Lots of new talent.

But at the same time, I feel a little regretful.

If I had all the time in the world, I would take and train them all and work upon their potential.

But I don't.

And it's all good.

I can already feel the team dynamic and, let me tell you, it's a good one.

We're going to do big things this year.

They are very capable.

And with the aid of my other coordinators, we can lead this ship to paradise.

As slick as the team is as a whole, they are nothing compared to the two lovely ladies by my side.

I'm lucky to have them there. I would probably fall and fail without them there to hold me up.

Organized, disciplined, down-to-Earth and very talented. They know what they're doing.

The team definitely has much to look up to.

And a lot to tap into as well.

I'm setting points with each and every one of them this year.

Granted, I'm not telling them where these points exist.

But, I'm making damn sure that they all reach them.

8 new bloods. 10 doods. 14 lovelies. 24 strong.

Straight fire.

I don't judge. I don't have a gavel.

I do not go on tirades or blast sprees.

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

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

Ball-to-the-walls Tuesdays.

Beyond galactic. So boss. Straight attorney.

Getting my biscuits in order, buttering them and putting them in the basket.

Dust.

Singing. Drawing. Conversing.

It's a simple joy being at the table and enjoying a long bout of wordplay and wit.

It's a simple joy talking to a stranger whose interested in something that you're a part of.

It's a simple joy talking to a stranger at all and sharing that human connection that many will contend is being lost in this age of technology.

"That which doesn't kill me only makes me stronger."

Wrong. Overcoming a debilitating illness can cripple your body or immune system.

In order for that maxim to retain its value, one must define the use of "strength".

It's not physical, it's mental.

Something crazy happens, you learn from it, you become aware of it and hopefully you amount to a better person because of it.

That's what it means. Don't go around saying it if you're going to deny it its existence.

Be the better person and mount up.

Absorb, learn and move.

In boxing, they teach you to still your stance and follow a punch thrown at you if you cannot dodge it.

You may still get hit, but you roll with it, not only diffusing the impact and the power of the punch, but also giving you a dynamic fluidity which is a great aid in a follow-up counter of tremendous proportions.

Eat it.

Go on. It's okay.

Eat it.

It's strange how in order to truly know something about yourself, it must be echoed back by the thoughts of others on multiple occasions.

It's strange too how sometimes that isn't enough.

Empty carapace.

Maybe it's just one of them days. Or weeks.

Okay, months.

But I am the most frontingest.

I always find myself looking back upon my artistic endeavors and, instead of seeing the big picture, am antagonizing myself over the few or many little detail flaws.

And every now and then, those feelings are evoked in my own reality, permeating its way into my social realm.

Everyone has an inherent degree of paranoia and self-awareness, but I think as an artist you have a heightened sense of it.

I say this because usually I am so quick to see and point out the positives of almost anything and anyone, but when it comes to matters of myself, I put myself on the back-burner.

At times, I can be loud and obnoxious, I'll admit it.

But hey, you tell me when you're not enjoying yourself and/or are being entertained, and I'll stop.

I like to talk. Is that a crime?

I'm not being flirtatious, I'm just trying to have a good conversation and a good time.

And I don't grind, I dance. Thank you for not mashing my pelvic region to a pulp.

Stay classy.

Do you like the way she makes you feel or do you like the feeling you get because of the attention?

If only it were that easy sometimes.

I'm getting tired of these questions.

Honestly.

...Maybe that means I'm not entirely over it.

And I was so money.

Balls.

Docking out...
-Ryan : anticipate the return

Ryan posted this at 6:43 PM.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

 

09.08.07-09.28.07

I'm only posting these as a reminder.

When I find the time, I'm going to finish these, jammit. I'm holding myself to it.

=-=-=

She closed the door behind them as they maneuvered their way apart from the group. Five minutes earlier, she had told him that she needed to talk to him.

With his back turned to her and a deep sigh, she interrogated, "Look, I can feel it. It's no secret. Why are you treating me differently?"

This got the gears turning in his head. Had he been treating her differently or was she just noticing this on her own merit?

"I don't know-- I don't think I'm treating you any differently than I would anyone else. But I do know this..." He turned to face her and paused, giving his own deep sigh. "I know that you have no idea how hard this is for me. I've let it go. I really have-- on more than one occasion, actually. But somehow... somehow you've again found a way to infiltrate every one of my thoughts and seeing you every now and then isn't helping at all."

"You don't think this is hard on me too?" She looked down, not really sure of what to say at the moment. "...I just wouldn't be able to handle it if I broke your heart."

He gave her an intensely deep stare, gazing into her eyes with sincerity.

"You don't have to worry about that-- you already have."


=-=-=


I had met him on the train. As a black man with an impressive frame of over six feet, he had a very striking presence. However, there was a certain warmth that materialised when he sat down next to me. Being next to him somehow conjured up a jovial ambiance, an unspoken benevolence seemed to exude from his pores and he brought about a certain bubble of comfort.

He said his name was Damien Jackson, with an "e" specifically.

We hadn't gotten passed small talk throughout the first couple of hours on the trek and we eventually fell into our own little worlds on the train until I noticed him looking at a picture in his wallet. There was a certain intensity in his gaze that beckoned for immediate notice. The wrinkles that overtook his features twisted his visage into a sharp contrast as to what I had familiarized myself with thus far. There was a deep melancholy that echoed in his eyes and I believed that if he stared long enough at that picture, he'd begin to cry tears pregnant with sorrow of immense proportions. I had to ask.

"So, uh... Is that your family?"

Without looking at me, he gave me a nod of confirmation. I was relieved to see that smile of his return. Pointing with his pinky, he explained that the two little girls in the pretty lavender dresses were his daughters, Aldena and Kristia, with a "k" specifically, aged 6 and 8, and that the breath-takingly beautiful young lady that stood by his side in that perfect snapshot of a warm spring day was his wife, Celine.

"You must really miss them. I mean, with the way you're looking at that badboy."

His smile faded and I sank along with its disappearance. I just opened up a can of worms. It took him a while before he responded, his sights still fixated on the photo. "More than you know."

-------------------

She was from the other side of town-- what many might call "uptown". It was something comparable to Pleasantville, a place where no home was without a second story, pristinely cut green yards, immaculate, vibrant gardens and white pickett fences. Expensive cars lined the streets in nearly identical distances from eachother with their waxy finishes reflecting the always-bright rays of the sun. Children's laughter could be heard round the hour as they rode their bikes and played their games, basking in their youthful innocence. Neighbors greeted eachother every morning and invited one another to dinner every other night of the week. One would be hard-pressed to find much conflict at all. Also sharing that rarity were any signs of resident minorities. Yes, it was the epitome of old-school white television.

Their main street was littered with little shops, stocked with everything that you could ever want, given the right price, where everyone from neighboring cities would flock to every day. It had actually shared her last name-- Lexington. Following her history, her ancestors pretty much pioneered the town and helped it flourished into the upscale area of a small-town that it was today. She had been blessed with a vast amount of wealth all her life, along with an intelligence and kind heart that was just as abundant and never-ending. Granted, with her amiability, it wouldn't have been out of the ordinary to find her helping out the townspeople she grew up with or volunteering at various local establishments. She fostered a deep care for her town and its inhabitants.

So deep in fact, that when she hit that college age, she chose it as her place of residence and instead made a daily commute to one of the neighboring city's university, rather than dorming there.

And that's where the two had met.

=-=-=

People need to calm down, stop being defensive and stop walking around, acting like their shit don't stink.

That was not his intention, no.

You're right, you're an adult-- start acting like one and stop putting yourself on a pedestal.

He's in a position of power and you're out there being a smartass-- how do you expect him to respect you?

And please do not downplay their intelligence just because of their occupation.

That right there is the same ignorance that you're partly worked up about.

Jagged Christy.

Think.

One must be able to distinguish between affection and attention-- it'll save you a lot of time and trouble.

I'm not going to tell you what to do, but I'll lay out the options.

It's not about what you're doing or are going to do.

It's about what you're feeling and what you think is best for you.

Why are you trying to get crazy on me? It wasn't me, so please don't project your heat onto me. You raise the pressure high enough and the roof's gonna pop.

It's time for a remix, yo.

Oh, really, now? Why... I'm flattered.

If I had gotten cheesecake for every time I heard something like that, I'd be happily deceased from saccharide overdose.

But still, I grow very tired of that statement and its various incarnations.

I should just take my chances and go and randomly get myself involved in an arranged marriage.

I looooove surprises.

You know, this isn't how the year should begin.

When I see that hurt expression, those regretful eyes or hear any torn stories of any of my friends, those emotions are echoed deep within me at an augmented magnitude and all I want to do is help them reclaim their happiness.

The worst part is that I have a good grasp on what is plaguing them in these various instances. The even trickier part is the fact that it's easy as an outsider to put the situations into context, but it is that much harder when you're actually in it and have emotions or motive vested already.

But I'm too logical in my thinking at times and all I could do for the time being is just act stupid to try and make them smile.

I know they need that time bubble and I know that I can't alleviate all conflicts.

It's never easy.

So, I've gotten into the habit of taking walks around campus since I live right next to it. It's good cardio and my body more than needs that now.

I've also developed the habit of dancing or singing while I'm taking these walks. I get really into it and I sometimes forget that I'm in public place-- yeah, free entertainment at my expense and dignity, I suppose.

I'm sorry. Were you too busy being incoherent?

You know not the effects of just the thought of you.

I love a good challenge.

I like complicated-- it makes life interesting.

There is no substitute.

Listen, I'm not going to lose you too.

I'm just saying.

As weird as it sounds, if felt good to be doing yard work.

I want to heal their sorrow.

Age means nothing.

Nor does it equate to experience.

"Every day I get personal ads from women who've long dreamed of their weddings, but haven't put much thought into what kind of man they actually want to spend their lives with."

Mmm... glasses.

Off like a dirty shirt.

My Nintendog either hates me or is dead.

Stop making me sneeze.

Okay, just kidding.

But seriously.

Way to ruin any plans I might've had for the day-- stupid SYTYCD marathon.

Yeah, I watch it.

I know-- gangsta.

And all of a sudden it's 5:30 in the AM.

Some would say that it's easy to start a romantic relationship out of nowhere. You both put yourselves out there for the very same reason and you both have that initial attraction and bubbly jubilee about you to vibe off of. To further augment that affectionate high you're both on, you have that craving to learn more about that person-- what makes them happy, what are their aspirations, their influences, their everything. All that can go a long way.

Now, starting a romantic relationship out of an already existing relationship, that's a tricky mofo-- one that many will vouch against. Why? Well, it's quite simple: you don't want to mess things up. It's one thing to get burned by a total stranger, but in this situation, you've already built a foundation and, at this point, construction's going pretty well and demolition of any kind is truly bruising and heartbreaking.

But, that's not to say that it's not worth it. We all deserve happiness and, as much as a shocker it is to almost EVERYONE, we all have opportunities for it. I wish I knew what to say to you or even guide you in such a state of being, but unfortunately, like many complicated things in this world, it's very situational and relative.

So, what do you do?

Something about this past week (or weekend, as that's what it felt like) got me thinking about my life and how I grew up-- specifically about how I chose to live my life as soon as I hit my teens.

I'm not going to say that I'm not privileged.

I'm not going to say that I'm not one of the lucky ones.

I'm not going to say that I've lived a life stripped of certain luxuries and sumptuousity.

My parents have worked hard all their lives to provide my famjam with things that they themselves didn't possess (and it angers me something proper when I see that taken advantage of).

I'm not gonna lie, SM can easily be split into socioeconomic sections.

As previously stated, I'm one of the lucky ones, residing within a nice part of the town (back when SM was slowly paving its way into its town status, my neighborhood was one of its new additions-- with a new elementary school, even).

But you look anywhere hard enough, and you'll definitely find bad within all the good.

There's currently two middle schools in SM and I happened to go to what everyone considered the more "ghetto" of the two. Granted, it isn't that ghetto in the sense that you might be thinking, but it wasn't exactly suburban either (a far cry from what Lizzie McGuire portrayed).

Now, we're talking middle school-- the bane of our generation's existence in my opinion.

Middle school kids are stupid.

True story.

That's when one might begin to really see the social spectrum.

I did not go to the perfect middle school. Stuff went down.

Luckily, high school was a welcome combination of every corner of SM (at least, at the time, as there was only one high school during my time). My high school experience was almost too perfect. Classes were a joke, extracurriculars were fulfilling and I ultimately didn't have a single bad moment at my school. After sophomore year, it was as if I had no boundaries. Not that I owned that campus, but I had no enemies and there wasn't anything that I couldn't do if it was what I had wanted to do.

However, outside of my high school, I chose to keep correspondence and relations with another crowd who inevitably became less than kosher (generally speaking-- there is good and bad everywhere). This was my reality check and the proper balance to how good I had things in my hometown. Though, socially, you couldn't say that it was much different (that is, I had no real enemies, only a close group of friends that eventually split into different cliques and about eleventy acquaintances).

I was the permanent middle-man. The mediator. The pacifier.

I've seen things that most people haven't or maybe even shouldn't have, things that I wouldn't wish upon anyone. At a certain point (and thanks to a certain someone), I left it all behind and cut all ties. For the better, I'd like to think, but I still do my share of giving back every now and then if I really have to.

That's why it's easy for me to realize how stupid certain "problems" and "beefs" are-- because I know that it could be so much more worse.

People aren't appreciative or proactive enough.

But I understand. There is so much going on simultaneously that you sometimes can't keep focus on anything more than the center of the storm you're in.

But it doesn't hurt every now and then to put yourself into context.

We don't joke.

RIGHT?!?!

I guess the trade-off for a less-than-healthy organ system is the ability to keep myself entertained.

People shouldn't be this good at acting stupid.

Good company, good times.

I will never ever be bored.

I don't dance, I get down.

I can't seem to place the exact moment when I developed an interest in the dance world.

I can detail the specifics of certain instances in my experience with the medium, such as the reason that I joined my high school team.

But, ask me the exact moment when I found joy in the rhythmic combination of music and movement, and I could only give a guesstimation.

Same goes with my fondness of music and singing in general.

Hell, add to that art and writing.

It's almost as if I were born with the necessary makings for a Renaissance Man.

So, then, why do I pursue this biological knowledge?

It interests me, but I lack the discipline nor the diligence to succeed in this field at the moment.

A possible mistake. I have messed up pretty badly. True story.

I now find myself in front of the chamber, and I'm about to play a quick game of "dodge the bullet". Usually, I'm pretty ample in my ninja reflexes and my Matrix abilities, but I have taken a few slugs in the past year.

This'll be interesting, no doubt.

It's a problem-- I put others before myself.

Time to knuckle down, pound for pound.

This is my future we're talking about.

I'm a much better person than I am a student.

I know I'm going to be happy no matter what-- I guess it's just a matter of how much.

Live to win-- 'til you die!

'Til the fire's in your eyes!

OW OW!

I don't think I could ever live somewhere other than California.

I mean that in the sense of finally settling down-- after the career and family have come to fruition.

It's just too beautiful here and there is a definite ambiance of... serenity.

However, I wouldn't mind living somewhere such as Seattle or New York City just to experience the urban, city life, if only for a while.

I would love to try living overseas too-- Europe or Asia. That'd be quite the experience.

But, all in all, when I think about it-- I can't imagine leaving this place.

Love takes skill and when you screw it up, it hurts.

That novelty is a great thing to have in your life-- that new person who excites you and brings about a certain change in your demeanor and mood.

You smile at one another in silence, hold hands, go for walks and talk for hours on end.

But it is as it was previously mentioned-- novelty.

Unfortunately, in most situations, it fades.

How you handle its disappearance or even lengthen its life-span is the real test.

Compromise and balance of comfort and attention-- it's important.

You may never knows the joys of having all of my affection.

When looking at pictures, I always find myself saying, "That picture does them no justice."

Take pride in what you do-- the slightest inkling of fear can tilt things severely.

You don't have to prove them wrong, you just have to prove to yourself that you're indeed capable.

Once you have that notion of your own power, then you know that nothing can take you on.

Your knowledge.

They can never take that away from you.

We still have makes to cup.

I am pretty content and I know that no matter what, I'll find ways to keep myself entertained and, most of all, happy.

Here's the tricky thing: there exist certain parallels and situations in which I would be even more happier, and I know that.

I tend to think that I don't deserve them, others think I do.

Which ones will I attain and which ones will I end up passing up or have pass me by?

You may find that you have your mind made up about something.

But then you hear things that you don't necessarily want to hear.

Granted, these things may not even be recent and could have been said at many instances long ago.

But such details escape your immediate attention.

And that's how people get trapped.

Things don't always seem to sway in your favor, but I guarantee that given a long enough time line, you'll get yours. It's bound to happen.

You feel guilty for a reason-- and that's all I'm going to say.

Actually, no.

If you felt even a tinge of hesitation, all I ask is that you do not disregard it and think about why that reservation occurred at all.

People get hurt. That's the easy part.

The hard part is the recovery.

Most people are inherently selfish-- they need to take into consideration that repercussions of their actions on others, especially the other individual involved in the situation.

The other individual, the giver, needs to make their stand and let things be known. They can only take so many hits.

The truth is, they're both gradually being worn down in different ways. A gradient is being made and they're both thrashing each other.

It's hard to explain, but easy to understand.

Tell me what we're gonna do now.

It's the end of the sum-sum and I feel...

unfulfilled.

People are quick to criticize and not to take into account the process in which something was created.

They need to be more appreciative.

As much as I love mystery, I've never really fancied it when it came to matters of the self.

It's not anger or grief over the things I see, hear or realize.

It's disappointment.

I wonder if I was ever giving my all, rather than just enough.

One of my greatest fears is that I don't know my boundaries.

We all deserve better than that.

"In prison, a man will do most anything to keep his mind occupied."

It's been a long while since I've had a visit from this bastard.

I guess it was long overdue.

Damn The Lonelies.

*DUN DUN DUN*

Trust me, I doubt you'd want to take a biology course for fun.

I don't want to hear about how my parents get down, what makes you think that I want to learn about plant reproduction?

I'm kind of mad at the plant kingdom right now.

The only interesting thing is that plants are like the icebergs of the biological world.

That is, they appear simple but are far from it.

Ooooooh...

I'm stupid, yes I know.

It's not that it's different.

I'm just a little reticent at the moment.

And burnt out.

Everyone's getting the cake from the same plate, you dig?

You wanna talk about ROMANCE?!

TO ME?!

ARE YOU SERIOUS?!

You don't want to test this.

Life is also a story of macroevolution.

Obnoxicity.

Myan Rose.

The emergence of the new year excites me.

I sang a song to a deaf crowd, whose only interests were in babbling fools.

It's not a matter of personal pride, game or competition-- I mean what I say and all those statements I once said still hold true today.

No bull. No persuasion.

I imagine points and I try to help you reach them.

I teach. I motivate. I love.

What am I doing?

=-=-=

He never once used this as a surface in this fashion, but it was all that he had at the moment. He hadn't done anything like this in a while and he found himself immersed in his own little bubble, despite the very active world around him. There was just a certain and distinct kind of comfort as the interaction between pen and cardboard was made.

Using the ink as a conduit, words and images spewed their way into existence. While the images were brashly created in jest, the random bodies of text that found their way into every empty niche of the brown canvas were made with more true intentions. They were just little pieces of advice, a mix and match of random quotes, phrases, maxims and caveats, but they all had their own special meanings besides their literal ones.

He had remembered the exact moments that he had said each quote of his own and the contexts in which they were spoken. He smiled, knowing that no matter what happened from this point on, he knew that he had made some sort of impact on multiple lives.

No matter how hard things personally became for him, or how out of tune the external elements made his world, he could always hold on to these memories and use them as ammo for his weapon of hope.

With these instances in storage, he had eternal proof that joy could be reintroduced into lives that had be tainted by sorrow and that roses could indeed grow from concrete and bask in all their beautiful and rightful glory.

=-=-=

Docking out...
-Ryan : RIGHT?!

Ryan posted this at 6:26 AM.

Saturday, August 04, 2007

 

08.04.07 -- 08.31.07

Apparently, the powers that be thought that it'd be hilarious that if the one weekend I could come home for the summer to chill, there'd be an angry and disabling humidity.

If only my brain could store as much information as my heart does loves.

I'm not the type who gets jealous or bitter when I see a couple on the street.

Rather, it makes me smile.

There's a certain sense of satisfaction that's attained when I find or create that happiness in others.

Never really ever wanted or asked for much.

With that being said, I've always been used to getting what I do want.

I've always stressed being able to adapt to whatever's thrown at you.

It's unfortunate how convoluted and much more complicated things are nowadays.

I find old habits are hard to break.

But I have to.

I always says, "Next quarter."

But this time...

I have to.

Some have an easier time admitting it than others, but we all need guidance here and there.

Careful now.

External pressure can lead to internal combustion.

Old infatuations have a nasty habit of returning during wrong intervals.

Denial, deflection or acceptance?

In time, we'll be dancing in the streets all night.

Summer stagnancy.

Every now and then I get bored of things, hitting a plateau of intrigue, a feeling of wanting and needing to move on.

What to do, what to do?

I want to look into the eyes of the little boy I used to be and say to myself, "I apologize."

I apologize for robbing you of some of the simplest joys you have always deserved.

Vurrrrry shimple, yo.

Go back to the homeland and become a pop-star.

Then use the fame and fortune to fix up the provinces and use that charisma to box out the corrupt politicians and build from the ground up.

Right?!

We all love that novelty.

And we fear its disappearance.

I'm not saying that you have to let it go. I'm saying just learn from it and don't instigate things that don't have to happen.

Attitudes reflect leadership.

I can't remember the last that I slept this well.

Just because it hasn't or doesn't happen to you, doesn't mean that it doesn't happen to others and/or exist.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, for your viewing pleasure, we bring to you...

The Cycle.

Again.

No, really. Hold your applause.

What it all comes down to is this-- how do you want to be remembered?

I find it very important for one to be able to fully love themselves and be comfortable knowing that in the end all, in the absence of others, they'll be alright.

It shouldn't all be about finding someone to complete your existence, but rather someone who enhances it and makes you a better person than you already are.

Word to big bird.

Art stirs thought. Music stirs emotion.

I'll live.

I always do.

I punked a couple of raccoons during a walk today.

I know, I know.

Gangsta.

Perspective.

I've led a lot of things in my lifetime.

A girl was never one of them.

If you're not comfortable with yourself, you'll never be comfortable anywhere.

Admit it.

You need me in your life.

It's cool.

I can dig that.

The cycle between the moon and the sun has continually gotten faster and faster right before my eyes-- almost as if the powers that be are just playing ping pong between Heaven and earth.

Time has been moving so suddenly lately-- I needed to take a quick jaunt backwards and catch my breath.

When did my mother's hair, which I used to joke was darker than night, become widdled with clouds of gray?

At this age and point in time, we all have those little intricacies about us, those certain somethings that plague our souls.

It may be heartache, tragedy or even pride but whatever it is, we all have our stories to tell that provide ample background for our insecurities.

Sometimes, I feel like the social schematics of high school, and especially college, try to suggest that getting someone drunk is the quickest way to get people to open up--

that the quickest way to get to know someone is through inebriation and that the best way to peruse someone's soul is through quick bouts of physical acrobatics that hold no intentions of intimacy, only instant gratification and affection.

I haven't listened to the radio or watched music videos in a long time.

Back in the day, I used to go through general musical cycles. While I have eclectic musical taste, throughout the school year, it'd be mostly hip-hop and R&B, really digging melodic flow and soulful singing. When summer hit, it was more punk, alternative and acoustic, in the mood for something more instrumental.

However, KYXY was always on rotation. Gotta love that soft rock and oldies.

People have a tendency to put things and themselves into leagues or echelons. No dice.

I think the major difference is that we were all forced to be there daily. There was just something about constantly being around those kids in that environment.

High school was a joke and I spent more time just trying to make people's days.

And that's what got me by.

I grow tired of that statement.

Don't remember that rush of joy.

Very few things in this world make me feel stupid. You've stumbled upon one of those.

"No one thinks as badly of you as you think they do."

Please don't wilt.

How long will all this last?

Strength is not strength when it is an accident of weakness from others.

At that point, it is exploitation or extortion-- and that is just amplified weakness.

I couldn't help but notice, but her eyes have a certain depth to them.

Despite those wrinkles around the corners of her eyes that form when she smiles, within those deep pools of brown hue, there is a hint of immense sadness.

They're heavy, like they've witnessed a lot of tragedy.

I wanted to relieve her sorrow.

You can tell a lot about people just from their eyes, it's insane.

Someone asked me a certain question about my faith last night and I gave them an answer that I never really believed in.

I want to make you feel beautiful.

I have the luxury of meaning everything I say.

I never lie.

I may withhold information or say things in non-conventional ways--

but I never lie.

Out being the Gentleman.

This weekend was quite refreshing and I'm leaving with nothing but cherished memories and bubbly attitudes.

It's always a good feeling to see old faces and play catch up with ketchup and just act a fool with no restraints.

Always a good time, always entertained.

That's two weddings in one summer.

They're married.

This is real.

What to do when people come out of nowhere with romantic notions?

The tricky thing about romantic relationships is that we all can't help who we feel for and for who we don't.

Someone may be our perfect match, but nothing may come of it because that mutual attraction is not there.

And that's how some people become guarded.

Awkward turtle.

So, there was a delay on the train ride tonight.

Major delay.

Someone had gotten hit by the train ahead of us, and they had to shut down the whole operation.

The sad part is, people were so focused on themselves and being late.

Granted, I understand-- it was a major delay that set us back a good 4 hours.

But still-- someone died.

Someone died and people were selfishly angry.

I began to wonder under what circumstances the fatality had occurred under.

Suicide? Accident?

Someone died.

Watching tragedy in motion.

If there is any beauty in the situation or if there is to be any good pulled from it, I shall find it.

There are many things I keep private and I have many outlets for such things.

But this...

I am quite unaccumstomed to these feelings and I find myself channeling them in the wrong directions.

The heavier that things are weighing down on me, the more the gears work in my head and the more of a smartass I become.

As notable as it may or may not be, I am hardly in any way pleased with my conduct as of late.

Right/Wrong circumstances at the right/wrong time.

It has been an exceptionally long time since I have ever felt this way.

This feeling of solitude, like I'm alone in my endeavors.

I've always been somewhat of a lone maverick with such matters, dealing with them on my own, shadowing through my pride and my ability to just chew it out.

Very rarely have I needed or asked for aid in any fashion.

Usually I power through.

Usually.

For whatever reason, I am moreso affected this time around.

I just have to remember how small I really am.

I am only one of.

We all have our problems.

We all pick and choose our battles.

It could be much worse.

But could it really?

Can't be dropping the ball.

Never have.

Never will.

It's weird to think about, but perhaps to be at my best, I do need that/it to keep a balance.

I miss that me.

It ends tonight.

I need to commit an act of extreme kindness before I lose my mind.

I need to make an impact.

3 people that I'm close to are in the hospital.

The hell?

I am the most frontingest.

Everyone thinks that they're broken.

What is it about the summer time that makes people act so ugly?

It must be the heat.

I just take a nap.

I take a shower.

I then go outside and look up--

look up and realize how small I really am, boxing the stars, battling the moon.

I don't lay my guard down for anyone.

What makes you an exception?

Hovering metropolis.

Everything seems to stack up at the most inopportune times.

No down-time.

Whatsoever.

It's hard to even think at the moment.

I need rest.

It's times like these when I wish that I had my car.

I would just drive...

drive and drive and drive into oblivion.

What is it about some people that makes them want to bring out the worst in others?

I am not good at being selfish.

I have a problem with helping others.

For a while, I thought it was because I viewed such opportunities as distractions from other things that bogged down on my world.

I realized those things do motivate me, but not in that way.

It's bad when, in certain instances and events, you're teetering on the line between dreams and reality.

My dreams have become so vivid and tangible lately and I've been having mad bouts of deja vu.

The King... has returned.

The more electronegative, the stronger the acid.

It's not civility.

I just understand.

I really do.

I can dig that.

I put them up too, sometimes.

They'll give you all the advice that you want to hear.

But, in my experience, all you really need is this:

Just know what you're up against and be prepared for anything, including the downfall, if it happens.

Just know and be ready.

Trust me.

If it truly bothered me, I'd let you know.

It's not you.

It's him.

Sleep away a silent pain that's screaming out my name.

I hope for your sake, you don't wake up, as broken as I am.

I hate it when girls are screaming in the streets of IV.

Almost always they're just drunk, being loud and belligerent.

It's a disease that I suffer from.

Sometimes, I talk smoothly but that doesn't mean I'm trying to run in at an angle on you.

There's nothing you can do about it.

You always joke about it but, trust me, you don't want to see destruction in motion.

So, I went through the fire for you and how do you repay me?

By sticking to the same ish that landed you in such predicaments in the first place.

Here's an idea: stop being stupid.

You know what?

She's worth it.

You're not.

I don't like this feeling.

I am incapable of producing anything worthy or beautiful right now.

Don't even look at me wrong.

I am in no mood at the moment.

Almost at that point where I could say what I want.

Lately, the only thing that I've been missing...

is myself.

What the hell happened to you, kid?

Making plays and pulling cards.

Finding holes and controlling damage.

I needed to get away.

Even now, I still do.

I apologize.

I sometimes forget how beautiful my home is.

So many memories.

I can't always be there to teach you.

Sometimes, I don't know why I have a phone.

Seriously.

I might have possibly done the worst form of vandalism ever in my artistic career this past weekend.

But it was worth it.

It was funny.

Plus, it's erasable, so kudos [against] me.

We have an L&L's right down the street now!

OoOoWeE!

There is so much construction going on and so much is changing in such a short amount of time.

But it's a good thing.

Perhaps with enough of a surface change and appeal for new additions, the core within the volume might cease to be as shady.

I want to give you something better.

You're scared?

Well, join the club.

We're all scared.

We don't like to admit it and we all front, but every now and then you just have that void you want filled in.

It happens.

Full circle.

When it's quality bonding time between just you and your thoughts, a lot of dangerous things can happen.

What a wonderful wonderland the playgrounds of my mind must be.

Hey, you can try and make me forget all you want.

I just won't let it happen.

So readily available.

Sometimes, I think of just being that guy.

It would just be that much easier.

But, I can't.

I just don't have it in me.

I'd like to think that I'm above all that.

I was shocked at what he said.

That is not the only thing that matters, okay?

The best part about getting a check-up at the dentist is when they bust out the little buffer for your teeth.

It just feels so good.

You ever have anyone draw on your back?

It just feels so good.

Though I don't have much of it at the moment, I miss having somebody run their fingers through my hair.

It just feels so good.

I can't get mad about it because I'm sure I've been on the opposite end of the situation plenty of times, doing it to others.

You just gotta roll with the punches.

And I've been trained defensively, with a mean counter.

That lefty comes out of nowhere, I tell you.

If it's right, and they're lucky, one of them will say something.

It's quite possible that I've told you things about my hometown that I don't even tell the kids in my hometown about.

There is always that latency, that undertow, that you don't know or maybe even think about at all.

I don't have a haven.

I don't have my Nyquil.

It may be forward but this occurred to me: I want to heal her sorrow.

That same empathy is what sparked a lot of good things in my lifetime.

I pick and choose my battles.

Just because I usually have a hard time saying "no" doesn't mean that I'm not capable of it.

I don't just allow things to happen.

I make a conscious decision of how I want things to be and I act accordingly.

New month.

New entry.

We'll see how this goes.

Funny, I go home and I'm still sleeping on a couch.

=-=-=

And you both lay there, eyes closed, not saying a thing, sinking into her mattress.

You like to think that if these walls could talk they would tell you how much she was anticipating your arrival within its spaces.

Lately, it seemed as if the world had been in a heavy onslaught against you in every way but her remedial presence provided temporarily relief from it all.

Everything was at what the scientific world would call an equilibrium.

It was complete comfort-- a moment that you could have stayed in for a very long time, if not forever.

Words were exchanged. The blithe bubble of tranquility that you were both sharing the luxury of was burst.

She sighed the deepest sigh, the kind that would make the saddest apparitions jealous, and you found your soul sinking within its depth.

All you could feel was this sudden urge to just hold her... but you couldn't.

Not like that.

You knew that if you did, it would never mean the same thing to her as it did to you.

You would lose yourself.

And in this moment of equal vulnerability, you suppose something could happen.

The warmth shared between your arms might find itself wanting to meet at your lips.

Two lonely people who figure it might be better to be alone together, if only for a moment of brevity.

This particular night, destined to be the "night-never-to-be-spoken-of-again" between the both of you, averted through topic avoidance and overcasting awkwardness.

In hindsight, new feelings of regret might be incurred--

and that would just be the salt on the already existing wound that afflicts your fatigued heart.

Pride, it's a funny thing.

Sometimes, it influences you to do things and other times, it restricts you from doing things.

It is both an instigator and a protector.

But at what price?

How do either of you expect to grow if you don't let go?

Shame how you couldn't decipher this particular one as much as you usually do.

Perhaps that's what kept you tethered.

But how could you be so careless?

You're always fearless when you're playing games.

But, you know, it isn't a game...

...and you found yourself leaving with no spine intact.

It wasn't anger.

More like disappointment.

You're usually a clutch player.

You made it straight into double over-time--

and you dropped the ball.

It ended.

=-=-=

Docking out...
-Ryan : here comes the exception

Ryan posted this at 12:49 AM.

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

 

07.03.07 -- 07.30.07

A closet intellectual?

Undercover scholar?

Ninja erudite?

Whenever I see Elano running on his wheel or we put him in his dope li'l running sphere, I can't help but wonder if he realizes that he's not really going anywhere or if can even see that much ahead to know what he could potentially be running into (and if recent bouts are of any indication, he doesn't-- the sucka rolls right into walls one after another).

And then I really think about it, and that describes a lot of cats that I know.

And I can just imagine them running on that little wheel-- doing all that work mindlessly, going nowhere really.

Or they're in the li'l running spheres. Oh, this time they're going somewhere-- but with no foresight at all.

They're forever running in place or forever running into obstacles.

A fool to let you slip away. I chase you just to hear you say...

You’re scared.

If the plan was to be losing me... it's working.

But, hey.

Guard that nest.

Produce that honey.

No need to cry about it.

Aww... no.

Now that's just facetious.

I take that back.

Let's do a good ol' line-up...

You know what the difference is between us?

In the end all, I'm gonna be okay-- and I know it.

I might be emo for a cool second, minute or even hours on end.

But, when push comes to shove, I'm going to make it work.

I always revert back to my normal state...

and my normal state is a state of comfort.

You don't have that.

As for you...

You don't even know what you're talking about.

Think about it.

It doesn't even make any sense.

Get your stories straight and you wouldn't be so angry all the time.

Son.

And you.

You need to think about the repercussions of your decisions.

Sure, the instants are grand...

but you know that what you're doing is wrong.

You're going to end up hurting a lot of people in the end if you continue with this.

I would never forgive you.

I'm just saying.

Something's gotta change.

Things cannot stay the same.

Don't stop it before it begins.

Peep this: I don't do sexy-- sexy does me.

Ohhh!

Another one.

That marks, what... 4 this year?

Granted, I didn't know them as well as the others, but I was related to them.

Still, it incurs a wave of grief within me like nothing else.

You become their sadness and live in a different state of mind.

This is the last thing I need to be feeling at the moment.

This apartment is too small for me to be able to fall into my own little world.

Taking random walks has started to become a habit.

Luckily, the littlest things can and will make me smile.

I thought I found my Nyquil, but I was taking something generic.

Definitely not the same.

I'm about ready to lock up again.

Rebuild the defenses.

Is there such a thing as too much music?

I can give a verse or lyric for almost all situations.

I hate it when the song playing is exactly what I'm ruminating over about and it sums it up with the exact words in my head.

Confused and regretful, I cracked, swallowed it back and left with no spine intact.

My, how things have changed.

Funny how I've hardly noticed, despite always discussing it.

When did this all happen?

Pretty soon, I'm gonna have to start a new entry.

Month-to-month basis from here on out.

At least for a while.

It was interesting to see how I felt on a day-to-day.

This should prove more than interesting a year from now.

Man, that is one angry snow-man.

I always imagined my tag-line as "Here comes the exception."

What a beautiful nightmare... an intellectual succubus.

I have the pedestal.

I just need the trophy.

I sing so many songs about you.

And he finds himself waiting for a time that never came.

Dramatic prairie dog.

He's the cat who'll say something that he'll find amusing and then look around to see if anyone noticed what he said.

Yeah, he's that guy.

I'm twenty years old.

What did you expect me to do?

I use this format because it's what comes to mind first.

That and the puzzling nature of it all.

Sure, one statement might make sense following or preceding another, but am I really talking about the same subject or two-- or perhaps even multiple?

It's fun 'cause one has to connect what they will reading it like this.

If you can't find the flow, then you shouldn't know.

That and I think it's hilarious.

Careful now.

Give me the opportunity to be obnoxious and I just might take it.

Life is alway grand.

It can only be supplemented.

People don't often put me on blast.

But don't think that I can't take a hit--

just be prepared for the whiplash.

Before you venture into that abyss, it might be wise to find clarity on the things behind you.

The voodoo that you do.

Someone's scared.

What's in a name if we have what we need?

Actions speak louder than words.

I wanna treat you the way you deserve.

We don't need definition.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how people become guarded.

I will do what I have to.

There are many things that'll make you happy.

But there are very few things that'll make you that happy.

I starve with a hunger unknown to me before.

The bigger mystery is why am I doing this to myself?

Everything I do is a distraction-- from you.

If only there were a way to make a living by socializing and through romance alone.

If you are sober and you ask me to do something for you whenever you are inebriated, I will do it.

Now, if you are inebriated, and I do what you ask, and you go against everything you said when you're sober, I will try and vie against it.

If you insist, and say that's what you want, then I will oblige your current request because you're no longer a minor and are capable of responsible thought.

Just don't yell at me the following day as if I made no attempt to dissuade you.

If this constantly seems to be the case, perhaps you need to check yourself in other certain aspects of your life.

Yo' welcome.

=-=-=

It was getting to that point where she could not stand him anymore.

She had had it up to here and was starting to question whether or not the whole relationship was worth it.

There were times in the past when he was a real sweetheart but he was being a real douchebag lately, constantly blowing her off and dismissing her when she needed him the most.

She gave him space. He gave her nothing.

Things were only getting worse and they both knew it.

AIM flashed on her taskbar.

She hoped with every inkling of her being that it was not him.

It wouldn't have mattered what he had to say at the moment, nothing was going to help right now-- she was too hot-headed. It just wasn't the best time.

"You good? You seem to be out of it lately."

It wasn't him. Good thing too-- her room might've went up in flames with her mental combustion if it had been.

It was ol' faithful.

"It's no secret... everyone knows."

For the next hour, she confided in him the current situation as he chided in every now and then with what advice or assuasive commentary he had to offer.

In the middle of her vent, he interrupted. "What's your favorite ice cream flavor?"

"What?" His random question totally threw her off her train of thought.

"Haha, look... just answer the question."

Hesitant, but intrigued, she replied. "...Cookies and cream... why?"

"The world's forever churning, okay? All the ingredients we starve for, it's within it, randomly spread out. I promise... one of these days, the world's gonna spit out some cookies and cream flavored ice cream for you-- you just gotta wait until it's done churning it out.

But that's the hard part-- the whole waiting dealy. We're only human, so we're all hungry. Until we find that favorite to vibe off of the rest of our lives, we gotta settle for these other ingredients or what we think is our current favorite to keep our bellies satisfied. You dig?"

She gave a out a little giggle. She could feel the heat fading away from her face.

"Thanks. That was the worst metaphor I've ever heard in my life... and because of that, I'm not even mad anymore. "

"Haha, I never said I was a poet... Listen, I'm hungry. You wanna get something to eat. It might get your mind off things."

He certainly knew how to shut her up. How could she talk if her face was stuffed?

"Now that sounds like a plan."

He pulled up and stopped her advancements as she made her way towards the passenger side door.

He got out, leaving the car on and made his way to the opposite end, opening her door for her.

How sweet. She looked at him with a weak smile full of gratitude.

"What? ...It would only be right." He sported a grin with a playful wink as she watched him make his way back around the front-end of the car.

As she was getting in, she noticed something waiting in her seat.

Ice cream. Cookies and cream. Her favorite.

"Figured it'd cheer you up some, yeah?"

She waited a bit.

"...You definitely know what you're doing."

He was always there for her, through thick and thin, no matter the cost or repercussions.

Slowly but surely, all those times, they've certainly added up.

She smiled on the inside as she looked out at the dashboard.

It was always the little things.

=-=-=

How do you expect her to know or feel special when you're out there treating her like you treat every other girl?

So, it's 2 in the AM and what am I doing?

No, not sleeping like most normal cats.

I'm walking.

No, not sleepwalking either--but walking.

Where am I going?

About 8 minutes down, to the coast.

I sit there, watching the sky and listening to the crash of the waves for half an hour, soaking it in and just thinking--

thinking about a lot of things.

I'm sitting there thinking about the things behind me mostly.

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.

Stop.

Just... stop.

Who's stopping?

I'm stopping.

'Cause it's easier that way.

Keep your feet out my shoes.

And your voice out my mouth.

Get your stories straight and you wouldn't be so angry all the time.

Perhaps I'm meant to just forever muse them.

To be that creative force.

I know what you're thinking.

And no, it isn't a gift.

It's a curse being this sexy, okay?

I know, I know.

I'm not complaining.

I'm just saying.

I've been prepping for a downfall.

Like an otter pop for the soul.

Life's too choreagraphed.

Sometimes, you just gotta freestyle.

Some people just refuse to let anything good happen to them.

One must learn to appreciate what is there to appreciate.

You might not like something.

But there's something to be appreciated, at the least.

Real talk.

Never considered contacts much.

Seems like a lot of work.

Besides, I find glasses are sexy.

Plus, mine tint, bish.

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

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

In my experience, the less that I want something, the more apt I am to get it.

Actually, allow me to rephrase that-- the less that I cared about getting something, the more it seemed that I was constantly surrounded or found by it.

When did this become a competition?

Really, you just need to lounge out.

Concerned with looking stupid?

Just have fun and be comfortable.

Let it go.

People worry too much, and they place much more emphasis on all the bad things that happen to them that they overlook all the good that's constantly happening.

They are far too concerned with being in the right, that they don't know how to react or know how to handle themselves when being in the wrong.

It happens. It's not the end of the world.

Furthermore, people often try to define the "bests" that are out there.

I'll concede that there are indeed "bests" out there but I believe that most of the time those are very relative according to the individual.

However, in many cases, far too often people stubbornly hold onto their ideal(s) to the point where all others' are obsolete.

You best be prepared for the fact that you aren't the ish.

What are you going to do the day you get put in check?

You don't know when to speak up or when to shut up.

And that makes you a fool.

I recommend not taking O-Chem.

Yo' welcome.

=-=-=

She closed the door behind her and found herself mounted in place like a cold pillar, her emotions running rampant in the playgrounds of her mind.

What was she doing?

For a while, she felt like she could possibly hold an inkling of affection for him-- probably did, actually. No, it crossed her mind on way too many occasions. She did.

She just found herself constantly battling in her mind, having to remind herself that this man was not any of the other boys from her past.

She just simply could not let it go, stopping all the love from getting in. All thoughts led to similar conclusions-- the pain of having put in so much, only to have it end in heartache.

She was definitely vibing within the situation at first but she checked herself with such notions as, "You know, this is how it always starts."

Albeit, it took a while, but she slowly began to bury the hatchet, grain by grain. A painstaking process, yes, but she was making the necessary steps.

She put herself out there, just a tad. Was it too late?

She tells herself that if anything happens, it happens. She's already content with the fact that she's achieved that level of just being ready once again. His loss, really.

Funny, it seemed as if the tables had now turned-- she could subtly sense it.

It was now him being distant.

He stepped out the door and it took him a good minute before he started the trek back to his home, convoluted thought raiding every vacant orifice of his mind.

What was he doing?

He thought he had buried the feelings. He was just being patient at first-- it felt too good to leave it at that.

Still, the whole situation kept switching from this and that so he decided to just drop it entirely with no strings and no regrets.

And he believed that it worked-- for a long while, actually. However, he just recently realized that he was just finding ways to distract himself. Oh, that spark was still there, however weak it was, just waiting for some instigation.

Oddly enough, though, he found himself reverting back to enigmatic and aversive self-defenses-- the further he delved into it, the more he wanted to back out.

His front of confidence was no longer as strong as it usually was. His insecurities finally finding their way to the front-lines.

Thoughts of deep rejection now fluttered within his thoughts for some reason-- the pain of being in so deeply, only to have her realize that he wasn't everything that she needed, or at the least, wanted.

His thought process was slothed something proper. At this point, he could not read anything within the context of the situation. He was growing weary, losing his touch. He usually prided himself on reading people, yet here he was, refusing to do so.

Funny, he noticed how the script had just totally flipped.

It was his turn to be scared.

Had it all just come down to good conversation? But that's what always sparked it in the first place.

This equilibrium was getting old...

on both ends.

=-=-=

Oh, I know my insecurities.

They deal with icebergs.

I need to stop being lazy.

And bad TV needs to stop being a distraction.

I really need a physical force to strap me into study mode.

It's a problem.

I like to walk around campus and I find that people are really uptight.

They stare at the ground half the time and hardly anyone ever smiles.

I make it a point to smile and look into the eyes of at least 3 cats on campus.

People often wonder why others are so detached.

It's because most fail to even make these basic, unspoken connections.

So, I drew a picture.

I never meant for it to look like her.

...Or did I?

Random?

Very random, indeed.

Why hadn't she told me any earlier?

And his enigmatic defenses still hold their positions against pervasive technique.

I still have my guards up-- don't know why really.

But you make it farther than most.

You should be proud.

I should make you a medal.

Why you must insist on being so easy to talk to?

So, she's getting married.

Cool.

Don't know this guy.

Cool.

It's a different realm for them.

Cool.

I'm sure he's a fine mine.

THE FINAL COUNTDOWN!

Sometimes, it's not about what they have to offer you or what you have to offer them.

Sometimes, it's about a feeling.

You can't help who you feel for all the time.

Why does that irritate you so much?

I am distracting myself.

I am hiding.

There are just some people who walk into your life, for however long or brief it may be, that just make such an impact in your life.

I can only hope I can do the same for someone.

Look, I'm not healing you to hook you.

So, I've been playing the same song right before I go to sleep.

Multiple times, sometimes.

No... not quite sure what I'm trying to do with that one.

How have I existed in this world for this long without having once played Scattergories before?!

What have I been doing with my life?!

Seriously, home-slice.

Seriously.

I like to play a little game called, "I firmly maintain that..."

It's even better when you play with a team.

I'm just saying.

Poor things-- I feel like the only things about me that haven't matured are my ears.

I would say that what my happiness lacks in length, it makes up in height...

but they're pretty even, I must say.

I hadn't heard or seen the word "basorexia" in a long time.

Funny... ask the right person, and you might find that they're inclined to agree that that's the one word to describe the way I've been feeling as of late.

It's been a while since I have suffered or cowered under its influence.

Good or bad?

Tell, what's harder?

Not knowing or having had known?

If you ever thought that you were in love...

you probably were.

The truth is, we all have our own definitions of love.

But one things remains clear-- it's unconditional.

It may have lasted for an hour, a week or even years.

But it lasted for some duration.

The bigger question is whether that love was reciprocated and at what degree, if even at all.

So, here's how I know: I'm wondering what she's doing right now.

Music's a tricky little entity.

In just a simple amount of lines, everything about your current world can be summed up.

And it can be summed up beautifully.

So, it's 3 in the AM, and I look to my left...

and there's a CREATURE looking straight at me with glowing red eyes.

True story.

The roommate's girlfriend got a new pet hamster.

Why would I lie?

I'm willing to dole out a small amount of cash for something that's funny.

I mean, hey, it's funny.

The gag is definitely worth it.

What's the point if you can't even laugh at the little things?

Too aesthetically serious people are sometimes.

Humility.

It's a catharsis of sorts.

I need to do this every now and then to keep a balance...

and my sanity, for that matter.

"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?"

I started reading a book today, something that I haven't done in a while.

I'm a quarter done with it.

I guess my mind has been going through mad withdrawals for some prose.

I now have in my possession real blades.

Oh, the things that are gonna get ninja'd.

Just you wait.

People sometimes say, "It's unfair. You're going to make some lucky girl really happy one day."

On the contrary.

She's gonna make ME happy one day.

She's gonna save me.

Real talk.

The words she says could kill a man.

I've said it before on many occasions.

I just never considered the flipside.

I certainly hope that I do not do the same.

Now, I've never been one to pride myself or hold myself in any sort of high regard, but I wouldn't say that I'm not a catch.

Now if only I could believe that.

There are times when I feel like I don't deserve any of it.

But that's complete bull-honky, donkey.

Perhaps it's fear.

Probably.

I'm not afraid to commit, just afraid to admit. That's a problem sometimes.

That and the whole "I wouldn't want to disappoint you" syndrome. That's a problem too.

You ever just wonder how anyone could ever like you at all?

Well, you shouldn't.

You have your qualities, rest assured, just as I have mine.

I haven't written anything in a while, because I've been busy choreagraphing.

My apologies.

Cunning, witty and clever.

We are a rare crowd.

So, this is how I know.

I feel like I'm in high school again and everyone talks.

In their inebriated mid-conversation, I am put on blast.

And instead of brushing it off like I usually do, it lingers in my mind.

At the end of today, it was mentioned and I suddenly found myself full of regret.

Although my day had not been wasted, after those few spoken sentences, it all seemed inconsequential.

That, and I missed out on some freakin' pazookie. Jammit.

This needs to end, right here.

Somehow.

At some point, something's going down.

And that point is nearing.

You're right. I am just continually adding to this entry.

I'm going to do that until the end of the month.

Interesting, no?

You're welcome.

I woke up today in an odd state.

I took a walk, and all seemed both mute and moot.

It was pretty eerie.

I don't know why, but I've been having bouts of crankiness and impatience within my thoughts recently.

Something will happen, and I will start producing negative feedback in my head.

I think last night was the worst of it. One odd, random comment about my nieces and a storm was stirred up within the depths of me. I don't know if I was yelling because of the intensity of the torrent in my head or because it was loud and I was trying to get a point across.

I told myself that he can't help it. He doesn't understand the repercussions of some of the stuff he says sometimes.

But, I don't let it get out of hand or the best of me. It all leads back to the same question and that is as to why I'm feeling this way lately.

I don't have an answer yet.

Peek-a-boo logic?

I feel like I'm just really trying to distract myself.

I'm pretty sure I am.

Is there some sort of secret when it comes to utilizing your downtime?

Why is it that others are always reminding me that I'm Ryan Mose?

I think it was Ferris Bueller who said it best.

When asked how he'd gotten so sweet, he simply replied, "...years of practice."

We came to moon the world.

I was once described as an "anachronism".

To this day, I still don't know whether or not to take it as a compliment.

Please do not put me on a pedestal.

Don't think that I am in any way better than you are.

I am just like you, like everyone.

Look, it's true I value respect and I certainly hope that I have yours...

but don't let that respect or anything of the ilk put you in a position where you're being careful of how you are around me or affect the way in which we converse.

You've met me before, in some form or another, much like I've probably met you, without our actual having contact before.

You have nothing to prove to me.

I don't judge.

I don't have a gavel.

Every now and then, I find myself zoning out, just thinking of synonyms for soothing and calming.

Assuasive. Serene. Tranquil. Pacifying. Emollient. Demulcent.

If the plan was to be losing me...

You certainly were on your way.

I'm still waiting for the moment when I can firmly say, "...Copacetic."

So, here's the stupid part.

I still can't come to grips with it.

I still have it in the back of my head to try and convert to a state of "normalcy".

It wasn't until recently that I started feeling like I've done myself a great disservice.

Or, to a larger degree, to my parents.

Those stupid attempts to conceal my abilities developed into poor academic habits that are now biting me in the ass.

Sometimes, I feel like I could've been so much more.

For them.

For myself.

I can't get it back.

All this because I didn't want the spotlight.

I look back now and I certainly could've had my cake and ate it too.

Anyone can, really.

It's all about perspective.

That's the stupid part.

Have you ever woken up with your shirt on backwards?

You go to sleep and you wake up...

and everything's the same, just like how you left it.

But something doesn't feel right.

That's what how things are right now.

Everything is exactly as it has been...

but something just doesn't feel right.

At least, moreso than usual.

NO ONE... can dick a badass.

Even moreso, a classy badass.

I'm just saying.

And the air outside's so soft...

Confessing everything.

There's a difference between growing up and growing old.

So comfy.

Not fair.

At this point, has it just come down to good conversation?

But that's what always sparked it in the first place.

Stop it.

Just... stop.

No one should be this good at acting stupid.

Really.

Frickin' A. That just happened.

I really cleaned that joint before I left.

I felt like a parental.

WTF, mate?

It was brought back to my attention the other day, but it's a fact that I've always known:

I don't know how to take a compliment.

I don't know. I really can't.

At best, I can force a smile and mutter a weak "thank you", but for the most part I mostly retort by flipping the script and praising the appraiser for the very same reason(s).

I've been pulling sessions more than I usually do and staying up later working on pieces than I usually do.

A sudden onslaught of inspiration-- but is that good or bad? And for who?

Every song I hear and every work that I see have been affecting me more than lately.

Yeah, I'm chillin'. The flux fluctuates and time always rolls forward.

Did you hear something?

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!

Why do the villains always have the fun songs?

It starts riiiiight about here...

Within, home-slice.

If it's a noble ideal, then why let others' thoughts pollute it?

People need to realize that being alone is sometimes a good thing.

What are you trying to prove?

Sometimes, it's not about the success, but about the significance.

Time won't give me time.

By whose hand have I become myself?

We do what we do because we decide to.

To mourn over her death would an insult to her memory.

What's the point if you can't enjoy even the little things?

Oh, and the background's nice too.

It's not always about you and it's not always about the self.

Always trying to be in the right makes it harder when being in the wrong.

Watch yourself, 'cause you never know when I just might ninja...

YOUR FACE.

It's an experiment in which I am trying to make a point.

So, prepare for the coup of the century.

Relax.

Balance.

I'm just saying.

=-=-=

And she says to me, "You see this?

This...

This represents your heart.

And this...

This represents the key to your heart.

Now, it's small and unexpected-- like many things in this world.

It hangs...

but it also falls and is easily tarnished.

It's going to need some cleaning every now and then.

But, you have to remember that your heart's always beating--

it's sometimes weak and it's sometimes strong.

So, you see, it's not your job to protect it...

it's your job to bring it back to a state of strength.

That's what this is for.

It's a representation.

You can hold it, you can clean it and you can wear it on your sleeve...

but most of all, it's within your sights.

No relic holds value without having its own story to tell."

=-=-=

Docking out...
-Ryan : loungin' like a Lazy Boy, son

Ryan posted this at 3:31 AM.