Tuesday, February 05, 2008

 

02.05.08-2.26.08

I need to get texting back.

Seriously.

My sunrise and sunset.

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

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

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

This is a formal apology...

to myself.

For what, you ask?

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

How have I lived for so long without watching this?

I'm sorry.

Deeply sorry.

And for everyone who kept telling me to watch it?

I apologize to you too.

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

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

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

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

Or maybe I'm just starting to go crazy.

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

She is disarming in an unseemingly good way?

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

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

Whatever goes down will hopefully be well received.

When the hell did I start getting butterflies?

Really now.

It's pathetic.

And by "pathetic" I mean "cute."

In the most sexy sense possible.

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

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

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

Damn... I used to know this.

I've never felt like such a jackass before.

Where is your character?

The one that keeps you going?

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

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

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

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

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

I'm not obligated.

I never was.

I just thought I was-- felt I was.

Freakin' phantom limbs.

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

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

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

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

Disappointment is lurking in my immediate future.

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

Drive slow, homie.

Hubris.

I've never really noticed it until recently.

I thought I was just confident.

Pride will be my downfall.

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

I won't drop the ball.

I never have.

I never will.

I'm gonna live forever.

Don't you forget it.

All I really need is to touch your lives.

In an appropriate way.

I don't believe things happen for a reason.

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

There's a difference.

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

But they're instances that you learned from.

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

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

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

My nyquil. My valkyrie. My cure for basorexia.

Absolutely wonderful.

Ear to ear, I can't stop smiling.

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

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

That's how I know, haha.

My Valentine's better than yours...

and that's trill.

Absolutely lovely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Breaking was not an option.

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

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

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

I don't want to be a burden.

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

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

I really needed to go home this weekend.

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

One more week.

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

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

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

That distinction has to be made.

Oh, and it has to kind of be mutual.

That's important as well.

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

Or what if I had discovered it sooner?

What if I had learned about the competitive world earlier?

Would I still have chosen SB over other schools?

Or what if I had actually trained?

Would I even be at a UC?

Same goes with singing.

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

Would I have opted to do more performances?

Would I have joined a group?

What if I had taken lessons?

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

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

Ditto for my artistic notions.

What if I had trained on the daily?

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

Would I have participated in more contests and events?

Should I have done more commissions in high school?

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

Writing? You called it.

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

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

Was my verbal score trying to tell me something?

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

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

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

But that's only my artistic half.

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

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

A little bit of a lot.

That's all I could ever think of.

I'm losing track of what day it is.

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

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

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

And I laughed inside. Hard.

Pun intended?

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

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

And it is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

In everything I see, I see Life.

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

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

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

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

especially after dropping a bomb like that.

She has the power to pacify me.

I feel like a little child.

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

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

I can hardly speak.

So much is on my mind right now.

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

She's probably just going for the record.

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

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

Ryan posted this at 3:25 AM.