Tuesday, April 24, 2007

 

04.24.06

I'm not doing a good job of protecting myself.

She's the only reason that I come and actually stay and her smile alone sloths the advancement of any conflicts that have been creeping their way into my mind lately.

We all need our muses.

I can only hope that I'm not tooling her for inspiration and that maybe something is growing.

=-=-=

She demurely commands a complex simplicity, the most clever puzzle used against the male population.

She does not need the "finishing touches" that make-up provides-- she is a natural masterpiece, the kind of brilliance that shines effortlessly, the kind of image that you spend hours studying for intricacies and subtle hints at the meaning harbored within.

Her rondure body is her canvas, which she drapes in laid-back vestiture themes of earth-tone comforts that command your gaze and augment your personal longing, though simple they may be.

There's a softness within her decibles, like a blanket that enshrouds your ears, leading you to a peaceful nirvana that beckons you to drop all tremulous burdens and brisk along in a blithe manner with daydreams of smiles, sunshine and copacetic moments of jubilee.

Her playful grins echo an innocence lost long ago, taking you back to a time where the simplest things were the greatest things.

All the sketches and megapixels in the world could not capture her essence.

If she cannot fully encapsulate herself, how could another even begin to think they could do the same in any medium?

All she needs is that strong frame, to hold her and joyfully display her to the world.

No signature needed-- she wouldn't deem it necessary.

In fact, it'd be a crime for the viewer to know so readily the author of such a beautiful piece and the instigator behind its creation.

=-=-=

I could only imagine how soft they could possibly be.

Mmm... white chocolate macadamia nut cookies.

Docking out...
-Ryan : spittin' fire

Ryan posted this at 1:31 AM.

Monday, April 16, 2007

 

04.16.07

We all have our problems.

Forgive me if I don't indulge you or, in my opinion, burden you with my own.

It's not what I do.

Did I get enough sleep?

Sure, why not.

Is everything okay?

No.

But, you know... there's always the bad and of course, the good.

Not to dismiss what you're saying or come off as somewhat conceited, but I know I'm doing a good job.

In my eyes, maybe not a great job, but I'm doing it decently enough.

You want to show your appreciation?

Just come.

Come on time.

Have fun, crack a few jokes, kick it in the back, talk to your fellow members, talk to any one of us coordinators.

And in the off-chance that we need your attention, give it.

That's all.

No, I'm not stressed. It's not what I do.

However, my body is really tired-- angry at me, even.

It's saying, "Ryan, there is no such thing as a 30-hour day."

I won't dance. Don't ask me.

I won't dance, madame with you.

My hear won't let my feet do things that they should do.

When did this happen?

A long time ago, but I stopped watering the seed.

Apparently, it's been given Miracle Growth in the past few days.

Why?

I need my muses, I suppose.

And for the record:

I'm really digging the two sets.

Straight fi-yah.

I'm just sayin'.

Put that one in your banks.

Docking out...
-Ryan : it's in the details

Ryan posted this at 1:44 AM.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

 

04.10.07

Oh, I can be mature--

You wouldn't like me when I'm mature...

This is the remix. Go 'head-- replay it.

I've got a fortress where my heart used to be.

I've got a silent fortress.

I see your silent fortress.

Show me the way to surrender my heart.

Kia, HE HAS ASTHMA!

Why is it, in any musical, that the villain's have the most badass songs?

I love taking psych classes because that's where they all hide.

You ever watch "The Shawshank Redemption"?

My favorite scene is when Andy locks the office door and plays music over the loud-speaker.

Yeah...

That's my favorite scene.

No one admits it, but they all want to be in on it.

They all want to be a part of something.

That's what I do, what I provide.

I give them a piece of the cheesecake.

I haven't stunted in a while.

It's something like... riding a bike.

Once you stop, it takes a while to get back into the groove of things.

My bad, yo.

It's a conspiracy, really.

They're trying to cut down the plurality that the asians have claimed here at UCSB.

Their one mistake?

They forgot to hit the theater...

The world went and got it itself in a big damn hurry.

It feels nice when someone runs their fingers through your hair.

I'm just saying.

Someday, the music will be too loud.

I intend to postpone that date.

The way I see it, none of us are immortal and a only a select few of us will be remembered by generations of the far future.

So, why not make ourselves memorable to those that are close and near to us?

And what better way to immortalize yourself in the memories of others than by living well and helping others when they need it and trying to better the environment around you?

I mean, really.

When did this become a competition?

What are you trying to prove? What is your life about?

I remember when age was such a dividing factor.

Starting in elementary school, the older kids were in a whole different echelon.

Come middle school and high school, they were the only ones you respected.

You ever get slightly nervous, not even knowing what to talk about with a person just 'cause were they were older but still part of your peer group?

It happens.

Even as freshmen in college they look young.

You can tell.

It's... odd.

It comes with age, I suppose.

I've dreamt about her thrice in a row now.

I doubt that I should be.

I haven't dreamt about her in that way since high school.

I'm not quite sure what it means.

My take is that it's just withdrawals, that longing.

But still, it felt good...

to be in those romantic situations--

dancing underneath the moonlight...

playfully chasing her in the rain...

defending her honor...

comforting her when tragedy struck...

having her blow out her candles in an intimate, unlit room on her birthday...

to just lie there, to embrace her with such ardor...

to tenderly place my lips upon hers.

It felt so warm, so real.

To gaze into a girl's eyes and have her level and decimate me beyond any aid except for hers--

it's a disaster that I'm willing to go through again.

=-=-=-=

She'll wear pajammy-jams or sweats, with a simple beater and no make-up.

And she will be the most breath-taking sight I'll have ever seen.

She'll have that natural, no-effort-needed beauty.

The kind of beauty that I wouldn't mind waking up next to in the morning.

She'll have that timeless beauty.

The kind that dates back to the origin of the word "woman" when cats would sit outside their caves and when Ms. Headturner walked by, they couldn't help but say to one another, "Wooo, man."

She'll have that paralyzing beauty.

The kind that stops, manipulates and bends light to its advantage.

She'll have that nerdy cuteness to her.

The kind that you'll want to keep to yourself because something such as that is comparable to the Holy Grail.

She'll have that quirky cuteness to her.

The kind that makes you want to just lay around for hours in the sheets and crack jokes while watching a movie.

She'll have that goober-iffic cuteness to her.

The kind that makes you want to show her off to your friends because she could definitely hang with, if not surpass, the boys.

She'll have that loveable cuteness to her.

The kind that makes you jus want to hold her tightly, in a warm embrace, in a loving spoon, cuddling for hours on end.

And her speech will notonly be tolerable, but articulate, eloquent and relevant as well.

The kind that's comboed with a soothing, euphonious and melodic voice.

The kind of voice that binds and compels you.

The kind that's unfair.

The kind of girl that's unfair.

Unfair, the fact that she exists, because she's everything that complements every measure of your being.

Unfair, because if she isn't taken, you know that she should be.

Unfair, because she doesn't even need to say a thing to make your day.

Unfair, because she is what you compare all others to.

Unfair, because you'd be willing to sacrifice all that you have for her.

Unfair, because you know you're not the only one that's thinking the very same thing.

Unfair, because despite all your self-assurance, she's the only one that could deter your actions.

Unfair, because you have to wait so long to meet her.

=-=-=-=

Don't let this siren cast her spell.

I can't really say I'm looking.

Maybe I just like spittin' text.

Winners work until they get it right.

Leaders work until they can't get it wrong.

Docking out...
-Ryan : we could be the greatest love song

Ryan posted this at 1:18 AM.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

 

04.05.07

It really hit me this week.

I'll be honest.

In terms of tragic and life-changing events that happen in my life that directly affected me, I've had it pretty good.

Being the youngest in your family might give you that luxury.

But you know, all my life I've been surrounded by such happenings and they've all indirectly affected me or included me somehow.

And while it's hard for the victims, people and families...

I gotta say-- it's hard for me too.

True, I may have never become the person I am today because of it...

I now view things from various angles, have become more sympathetic and empathic and I do cherish the little things.

But, I don't know...

Thinking of if other people were in my position, it would have placed great burden upon them.

I don't know if they'd be able to consume all that and become enriched by what nourishment it allowed.

It would, in all regards and honesty, have jaded them and made them hate the world just a little...

and that's what scared me this past week.

For the first time in my life, I grew weary and tired.

It seemed like everyone else was going through a crisis except for me...

and I was the only one that they could have confided in or listened to.

And then the thought occured: Why me?

Why do I not have to suffer in the same way?

Why must I be burdened with this luxury of not having to experience these abominations firsthand?

Why am I so fortunate as to not have to feel the direct sting of twisted randomness?

Why can't I have an excuse to not care about anything?

Why do I let it affect me?

Why do I let people affect me in this way?

You may be thinking, "Why are you complaining? I'm sure those people would love to be in your shoes."

That's where you'd be wrong.

Those people would love to be in the shoes of someone that hasn't had to deal with such events first-hand or second-hand.

Some could liken it to smoking-- first-hand's just as bad, but second-hand damaged even more people.

And I've always thought this: Ryan, just get away from it all.

Disregard everything and hide yourself away.

They shouldn't have to be asking you. They should be able to do it themselves.

I'm usually good with dismissing such notions because, in truth, people need people and I'm usually stronger than that...

but this past week was the first time I really considered it.

It's really catching up to me.

I thought I'd be out of this funk by now, but I'm not.

Who does the confidant confide in?

I've never had an answer for that one.

Never really had to.

Docking out...
-Ryan : you gots this, man

Ryan posted this at 2:19 AM.

Sunday, April 01, 2007

 

03.31.07

I could only guess what he's going through.

1 out of 10, really.

He's a strong kid.

He reminded me of myself, but you can never be too sure what path of closure one is taking.

It brought up a lot of memories and emotions that I usually don't like to tap into.

...Never a fun time at all.

It's gonna take a while.

No one will admit it once they're in such a situation, but it never really leaves you.

In all truth, it scars you.

You could only offer your shoulder and your condolences because if the tables were turned, that's probably all they could offer you.

It's a true test of your will, perception and autonomy.

It'll either make you stronger or jade you just a little.

I can only hope people's heart were in it and that they were not there out of sympathetic obligation.

It's good to see old faces, but not under these circumstances.

It makes you think.

Why is this the case?

Are we really at that point of our lives where we're too busy..?

Too busy for... eachother?

It's amazing how quickly your emotions can transition all in the span of 20 minutes.

One moment you're strong, stalwart and rigid.

Suddenly, you find your lip quivering and a tear is streaming down your face.

Next thing you know, your heart stops...

But it's not because of mourning.

For a split second, you look to your left and you catch a glimpse.

Even in these circumstances, you find yourself drawn to her aura.

Even in these circumstances, she's still taking your breath away.

Even in these circumstances, you're a fool.

And within the next pumping of blood in your chest, you collect your thoughts and you reflect.

You have your last moments of mourning and grief-- at least for now.

Closure has once again occured and you find yourself at peace.

You talk to her.

For whatever foolish reasons, it lifts you up.

It's just small talk, but it's doing wonders.

You know nothing will happen.

But this moment fancies you and regardless, you enjoy it.

She hasn't a clue, but right now, it all means the world to you.

And that's how powerful the mind is...

even in denial, the human condition compels us to continue on.

You've been emotionally backed into a corner...

Whatever it takes to get you back into the fray, whatever keeps you occupied, your mind will pursue for its own sanity sake.

=-=-=

And yet, he danced around the party, telling himself that he shouldn't join it.

He's not sure of anything in his life right now-- the last thing he needs is to be unsure about her as well.

Alpha male versus alpha female. It should work out right?

Group dynamics, in this context, would dictate the opposite.

It's always the same thing with this one-- back and forth, back and forth. He doesn't want something to happen, then he does-- but he knows that it shouldn't happen because he feels that nothing will come out of it.

This one's too perfect-- which is, quite naturally, what draws him to her. He doesn't want to complicate things.

He knew he shouldn't have gone, but he did.

He found himself in an awkward state-- never is he so quiet or short of wit.

He's not doing a good job of protecting himself.

=-=-=

On another note-- people need to watch what they say.

Never, under any circumstances, even in jest, should one attempt to command.

It's rude, dismissive and downright disrespectful.

Dishonor on you and your whole family.

Insecurities are easily perceived.

Don't take it out on others.

Deal with it.

Docking out...
-Ryan : I just don't want to miss you right now

Ryan posted this at 4:04 AM.