An Evening Eating Sandwiches With an Opportunity to Settle

It's two o' clock in the morning, but the conversations hasn't gotten boring. Well, really because the conversation hasn't been started yet.

This weekend was ok I guess. There was a party somewhere inside of Houston so I went to that, but whoever organized it thought it would be a good idea to fill the already small place with chairs. Not that I'm saying I would've planned any better. The last one I planned was not going so well what with three postponements. It turned out great though. The next one I'm planning is going to be indoors and will include even crazier songs that go ntsss ntsss ntsss. I'm going to need blue lasers though. Green and red are overplayed now.

You know, sometimes things are around often that you start taking them for granted. My green and red lasers are cool so I take that last statement back. I guess it's just human nature to want to see new things every so often. Or maybe just something that breaks the routine, so sometimes old things are welcome too.

During the end of my first year being a TA I had bought an empty hardcover notebook that I started writing in. I do not want to call it a diary because it is NOT a diary. It is a MANLY recollection of thoughts. (Just like this webpage is a blog, not a e-diary. [Kisses biceps].) Last night I was having a flood of thoughts all about the same thing coming back into my head, which is very convenient when you are trying to go to sleep.

Since my brain wouldn't let me sleep I decided I wouldn't let my brain rest, and I started to read the things I wrote in this little notebook.

I ended up writing one more post in it.

I'm glad I can't read all the other notebooks I have. When I was in high school I used to like this one girl named... Actually I will withhold this name.

We used to go to high school together so I would see her a lot. That is, until she told me something that freaked me out so bad I instinctively didn't want to have anything to do with her. Up to this day I don't know what would've been the poor girl's life had I not turned my back on her. Actually no I don't. She probably would've ended up just like the rest of them.

In any case I used to write to her in those little composition notebooks that all of us emo wannabe kids used to carry around. I like to think though, that there was a hint of authenticity at my writing because I didn't want anyone to see it and the other emo poser kids would be like "Oh yeah my writing is so deep I don't like to share it with anyone. Oh but you should look at the pictures I scratched out on the cover last night while I was crying. I'm just gonna turn around and pretend to forget you have my notebook. Oh my gosh, did you read what I wrote on there? How could you! I'm so embarrassed."

Right.

Well, I REALLY didn't like people reading the things I wrote so I wrote to this girl in Morse code. Except what I used to do is I used to do little spikes for the dots and big spikes for the lines and connect letters that made words with underscores. It was a little trick I had learned when I was in fourth grade and I was trying really hard for the bullies to not decipher how much they scared me, but I digress.

I kept the first notebook. I know I wrote some really stupid things in the first one. The second one was me being unable to break the habit of writing things out. In fact when you compare both notebooks you can see that there was a proficiency that was learned through practice.

I kind of wish I had written this last notebook in Morse code. That way I would be clueless right now as to why I'm sad/have been sad for the past two years.

On Being a Ladies Man

So I've been avoiding crazy people for a while, but I've noticed a bit of isolationism that's come about as a consequence. So ironically, the crazy one for the past few months is actually me!

Oh noes....

Well to be honest it started about a year ago when I decided that being alone whilst being rejected was a pathway down to a level of crazy that I have not been since I was 12 when I thought combovers COULD be cool if fiddled with my genius. However, an insurmountable amount of photographic evidence proves otherwise. Even then though, my brother Mode brought up an interesting point at a recent DJing job he accompanied me to. He said, "You know, I used to admire you. You were a ladies man. What happened to you???"

That was a shocking/startling comment because it was coming from a person that is not usually kind to me. So by seeing his face of shock he reminded me of an event that happened a long time ago and that I have blocked out of my mind subconsciously.

The reason I blocked it out is because for some reason I have this stupid part of my brain that feels pain for people who are suffering whether I agree with the reason of their suffering or not. So the feelings of the following person were SO POWERFUL that I took her psychological torture for her. Now that I have grown mentally stronger, I am going to not only overcome this pain in her heart, but also post it on the internet. (It's ok, no one reads this anyways. Hehehehe...)

It was a hot and sweaty day in Chicago. I was 14 years old. I had just figured out that the easiest type of girl to talk to were, ironically, the pretty ones, although I never really understood why. As a cocky teenager, I attributed my swag to my amazing combover that was irresistibly tweaked to where I could foresee a high school without the need of a car. (Or working out or whatever it was the other boys were using to impress chicks.)

Well there was a 23 year old that was hooked on the do. She came up to me and was all like, "Hey boy, I dig your swag. How about we go chill at an establishment of sorts."

"Sure! Who else is coming?"

[Scrunched up face] "Uh.... I don't know, I guess you can invite anyone else if you like?"

As I'm writing this, my heart is crumbling in pain... I guess I'm not that strong after all, especially because when she said that I said this.

"Oh cool let me see if my friends can come!"

They couldn't; perhaps they knew better than I what was going on here.

Now in my defense, it's not like I didn't know what being asked out sounded like, I just assumed I wouldn't be asked out by a 23 year old at 14. At the moment, I used to go to an all black people high school. It was a really difficult year to be in a magnet high school, mostly because the girls there were tired of eating dark chocolate and needed some caramel delights. The hints and the askouts were coming in left and right, distracting me from my studies. That's how I learned the stupid skill of faking uninterest (which I apparently do all the time) and missed out on learning true thug life, a necessary knowledge; because when explaining why your thug life tattoo is on your lower back instead of your stomach, a somewhat more 'street' accent would help explain yourself... No? Well it wouldn't hurt!

...but I digress...

So I get in this lady's car. My parents knew her and I knew her parents. We were close families (well, as close as you can be without knowing too many details of each other). She starts driving and I, of course, have the conversational skills of an awesome guy as her dad, who was in the back seat, remarked.

"Ok kids well have fun" he said as he got out of the car.

Once he closed the door and left I was like, "He's not coming with us?"

It was the best three hours up until the end when she found out she was 9 years older than me, and that she could've been arrested had she succumbed to her her carnal desires that were obviously overwhelming her. Yes... it was an amazing combover. However, the awkwardness that followed as she dropped me off at my house was so bad, that I have been embarrassed for her ever since then.

"What happened to that boy!?" Yelled my brother. "I used to look up to you..."

It's true... Somehow I got softened... Oh yeah I remember why. I had in my mind a challenge that I was to achieve in my lifetime. The achievement was successful, but I ended up damaged and a broken spirit. So I haven't really been myself for the past.... Hmmm.... decade... WOW! A decade!

I know it sounds like a long time but the other day I told a group of teachers that I worked with that 10 years ago, I was in middle school like the kids that we work with. Their jaws dropped.

In any case, my brother is right. I have to snap out of my idiocy. I know he sounds mean but I appreciate his kindness towards me. He is gaining more and more space in my crappy little heart, especially after a status update of his on facebook where he raps me a song and tells the world that it breaks his heart to see me the way he has seen me for the past year.

Thanks brah! I don't know when, but this monster is coming back!

(On a serious note, I would like to apologize for the crappy stories that I've been writing here and on facebook. Soon I will move all of those on to a whole other blog where I will write crappy stories and poems. That way you don't have to see that stuff unless you want to. Have an AWESOME POSSUM DAY!)

Deep Night Thoughts

I'm laying here still lost in my thoughts. It's been a year that I lost something that was precious to me, that in fact still really is. Still I see it from the distance. I can't ignore it...

...she stands on a hill for all to see, calling attention to herself. Her dress so loose, purposefully flowing in the wind, which in turn caresses its hands through her hair, accidentally dancing with her curls. It becomes the led in an invisible choreography where its force loses power with the compromise of passing through.

She turns and stares at me and smiles. I run to her but an invisible force pushes me back. I suspect it comes from her. How cruel that something so alluring doesn't allow anything near it. So I admire instead. From afar I feel the same winds. I can see its arms and how it runs its cool appendages through the crevices it makes on the long grass below her. These touch her first and then make an attempt to console my cheeks. Fingers that brush my hair and lightly scratch the side of my face. It even rubs below my eyes with its thumbs. Then the force of wind leans itself on my forehead. I give up my power, her faraway silhouette has tired my heart; I can't help but feel weak. I land on my back. My only partner now is the wind, whose force is still pushing itself on me, reassuring me somehow to stay calm.

A whisper in my ear now... Its reminding me of all that's happened. How the girl in the wind isn't for me...

"I pushed her away for you, why do you insist on coming back?"

I lift my head ever so slightly to see her again, and she's farther away now... Now a hug. A cold hug that permeates through my whole raises every hair on my neck.

"I want to be there..."

"No..." said the silent exhale in my ear.

I look up and she is even farther. Her beauty: delights in my eyes, sugar to my pupils, even through the fence of distance.

"Why?" I half scream in sadness.

That's when I notice she wasn't moving away, i was being pushed by the wind. When did he start carrying me?

I fight... I stand up... I run against the current, but it's too strong. For a second i don't even notice the grass blades slicing through my legs, until the cuts start adding up. I fight still...

Why am i so stubborn? Still that's not where I'm supposed to be...

As a last blow to my chest, I raise my eyes, and it is they who now betray me. With a sledgehammer they slam my breath away. Breathless i fall to the floor, incapable of adding up what I've just seen... Now i lay on the floor bleeding with half a working heart. This time though, I don't land on the cushions of my friend. Instead he carries her voice, and her laughs at my despair.

I should've listened to the whispers...

My back, broken, writhing with the squiggles of pain from the grass I landed on... I don't want to lift my head, I don't want to open my eyes. I don't want to confirm what I saw. I just want to leave...

That's when I miss the passing . . .

What would've been my last hope to stand up. Instead here I lie in my bed with a crappy matress.

Alone.

Why I'm Not Losing Weight (And How I'm Losing It)

So lately for some reason people have been worried about what they look like. (And by lately I mean for like the past 4 years). Either that or all the people I know are older and have realized that watching tv with a pizza pie is the reason they can't see their neck in the mirror when they wake up in the mornings.

Apart from being disgusting, these couch potatoes also share unnecessarinesses with me about their extreme measures for losing weight. Take for example the other day at work when I was about to enjoy my pizza. (Screw you, that school's pizza is AWESOME!). This one rather heavyset lady that eats at the same time with me in the teacher's lounge greeted me all happy. I said hi and I sat down and admired my food for a second like I always do. The pizza's crusty and fluffy bread waiting for me and my palates to enjoy its sole purpose for existence... To be delicious in my mouth.

"SO GUESS WHAT I HAD DONE TO LOSE WEIGHT!" she subtlety hinted at me.

And by subtlety mean, she might as well have said, hey lardface, since you are stuffing your hole with pizza, then you should do the following to lose weight, as have I.

"What" I replied as I bit off a really big chunk of pepperoni's stacked on the slice's corner (Oh ok, I see why they tell me it's not good pizza....) Something told me she was going to talk for a while. Mouth full of pizza? Check. Patience? Check. Time? Oy.... 30 minutes worth... Check

"Well I was weighing 350 lbs (this lady is the same height as me... maybe shorter) and I tried dieting, weight watchers, exercising and none of it worked! So I had this surgery done where the doctor pulls out your esophagus from a gaping hole in your chest and takes a knife and stabs it. Then he drags the knife down to your stomach, makes a little curvy line, and then slices a piece of your small intestine. Then, through the ancient art of origami, he makes it so that he can cut 90% or your stomach off and then you become stomachless. How? I don't know, I think he made slits in my stomach and put the pieces of skin in them like a tapestry of sorts. Except, instead of using cloth or hay he used loose hanging skin!"

At this point my mind was quivering because of the mental raping that had been performed in my imaginative brain.

Then I swallowed my pizza. Hmmm.... yeah no holes in MY esophagus.

Attempting to not be rude I asked "how long ago was this?"

"One year! (^u^)"

"How much weight did you lose?" (So much for not being rude....)

"70 lbs!"

There I was, staring at her relish in her accomplishment of a 70 lb loss over a year's period. She was so happy... Makes me wish I was dumb so I'd at least be happy. It's when you are aware of your surroundings that you are unhappy. When you know facts like: if only you ate twice a day and exercised just a little more or at least if you did SOMETHING daily then you would end up looking halfway decent. Unfortunately there are people that enable you by saying stupid stuff like "Hey! Let's go eat a burger!" or "You're not THAT fat" or "Pfffffftt!!! Walking? You're not even burning off all of the calories in a tofu popsicle!" They don't get that either they're not the only ones inviting you for a burger or that hiding your fatness from you makes you feel like you don't have to exercise or that maybe, JUST MAYBE, that little walk might one day turn into a 5 mile run. They're STUPID.

Well, as for the last one, maybe it IS our duty as cool humans to make fun of people that decided Polka Abs or The Accordion Hero Squat Cardio Movie series makes a good exercise program but, if it's someone that gets up off the couch only when he runs out of potato chips... Then maybe we should cut him some slack...

Fortunately I haven't listened to all those people and saw the fruits of my labor this morning when I lifted my shirt in front of the mirror. . . and at the very top of my navel, stood for the very first time two visible little packs. :)

What? Did I say I already had a six pack? Technically I did, I mean, we're all human beings.... :D

Time to TRASH SOMEONE!!!! HAW HAW HAW!!!!

HAW HAW HAW!!!!

I am ANGREE!!! In fact, I will just say that the monkey has blown up the stupid dynamite! I hate how I try to be nice and it almost always blows up in my face. Yeah, it's happened at school, uh errr... work a lot with all these girl teachers that wink and smile at me and I say (in a dumb voice) "Uh yeah I'll carry your books...."

I've always been too easy.

Now there might be too many reasons for me to be happy, like how dubstep has been on da rise. Also there is a new Spiderman movie (that hopefully doesn't suck) and Jessica Chobot is as hawt as always. People are starting to respect rage comics, and the economy is spiraling into another economic recession, which means more time for me to sit at home playing "How Long Can You Stick Your Thumb in Your Mouth" with my brothers to save my parents money on food whilst saving my own cash from frivolous obliteration on Internet meme paraphernalia. I should not be on the internet. . .

(No you can't your thumb JUST because it looks like a prune. Here hide your thumb under this so you don't get tempted).

In any case, over the past months it has been reiterated to me that I have cool friends that are just cool. Yesterday I found the revelation that there are dudes out there that have drama and call chicks up and complain about stuff and gossip about people and badmouth others.

Blegh...

What kinda homo . . . ? ? ?

So yeah people out there that bad mouth their "friends". Usually I've been very good at making friends. (Except for one very big exception. . . :P) So it sucks when you know something about someone and, apart from knowing this, you know that their friends aren't good friends. You feel such pity for this person. Sighs....

In any case I'm excited about tomorrow! Yah YAY!!!! :D

Aids in Africa!!!??? I HAVE A PIMPLE!!! >:(

All this Texas dryness has reminded me of just how much chicks differ from dudes. What's one thing got to do with the other? Nothing. However since the grass doesn't grow anymore I don't have to do any yard work. Except for last Friday when I realized that the backyard was in a state of anarchy and I had to tame it. Of course, the plants didn't fight back. If they had I would have no had the quiet time to sit and reflect. Also I would've peed my pants and run for the door before one of the man eating vines would've wrapped itself on my leg and dragged me to be digested by the giant clams that had allied with them.

You may have seen my very cryptic quote from last time. I will explain this right now.

How nice would it be to be children again! Now I know kids don't feel this way because their pimples overshadow aids in Africa and the wrong dress could bring even more horrific consequences than of the creation of WMDs.

To a point, being kids does suck. At the same time they have the 'unbeknownst to them' privilege of not knowing anything.

Usually the lack of knowledge is a bad thing, but to the person that lacks it, their mind is in an eternal sunshine that will only be spotted with the troubles of others if he starts to perceive them.

Of course, we don't want to have a dirty mind.

That is, unless you want to have an unfortunate incident in the future, where the consequences will land you on a list of people you don't want to be in, and with a limited number of job positions available to you.

Blegh... I don't want to be an ice cream man.... then again... free ice cream doesn't sound that bad.

NO WAIT!!!! I don't think you COULD be an ice cream man. . .

In any case, I wish I had a spotless mind. Then my sunshine would be eternal and I wouldn't be worrying about "AIDS in Africa". Blegh.

Clean Slate

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd.