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.