july 8 2013 - the truth

note: i wrote this before i saw your latest post entitled 'truths.'  But reading it gave me the confidence to post this.

it's a new week, a fresh start.

i have no idea what i want this to be about.

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[from july 2, 2013]

quick thoughts:

I went hiking again to the cross. it got to be night when i reached the top. it was quite pretty and cool sitting up there, watching the city lights below. lately, people have been shooting off illegal fireworks around town--the kind that shoot into the air and explode. from the top of the mountain, they looked like little balls of color. they looked like those fireworks in super mario brothers when you reach the castle at the end of the stage: like toys.

I had to use a flashlight on my way down. my brother gave me his as i was leaving my house. i told him i was meeting friends at the trail but i went by myself. on the way down i passed this family with four kids all under the age of 6. they stood in the dark in the middle of the trail. i passed them without a thought, but as i got further down, it struck me that it could be dangerous for the kids to walk without a light. so i decided to go back up a little and wait for them to ask them if they needed a light. i even started practicing what i was going to say. ¿necessitan luz? do you all need a light? they were speaking spanish when i passed them. then, after a few people passed me on the trail, i hear the voices of little kids. i look up the trail and see that the mom is using her phone as a light source, and it turned out they didn't need my help after all. d'oh. they took a picture near where i was standing and then left. i stood alone in the quiet darkness looking out at the city for a while. then i started down again. about five minutes later i passed the family again. i considered maybe i should still ask them if they needed a light. it would have been safer and easier for them if they had two light sources. in the end, i didn't, and i don't know if i regret that decision or not.

I don't feel like writing about the wedding. it feels like it's going to be long and boring. nothing spectacular happened. the reception was at a fancy hotel in Ontario. there was this girl there. she wore a soft pink dress with tulle fabric falling down to her knees (heh, i figured out what kind of fabric it was as i was typing this. thanks, the internet.) i remember vividly her pale face and dark eyebrows, and her abnormally large honey-colored eyes looking up at me. in her nude heels, she was about one or two inches short than i was, and i'm about 5' 11''. and i swear she was into me! what happened was that she moved over to our table as people started to dance. there weren't many people at our table, and she was alone. as the music started playing, she started swaying her body with the rhythm. no one else was around but me, my sister, and my cousin from riverside. I THINK SHE WANTED ME TO ASK HER TO DANCE BUT SINCE I LACK THE REQUIRED SELF-ESTEEM I DIDN'T DO IT AND I KIND OF REGRET IT. later, when she moved back to her table--which was next to ours--i caught her looking at me and quickly look away. AM I CRAZY, OR DOES THIS MEAN SOMETHING?

Then it struck me: why the fuck do i care about dancing or connecting with this poor girl? i don't know anything about her, since we were only introduced earlier that day. i have no idea of her personality. i didn't even remember her name. SO WHY THE FUCK DID I CARE? the answer is because i'm a predictably horny guy who wanted to use a pretty girl to fulfill his cravings for sex. i'm sorry about that, girl at the wedding.

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[today's writing]

i was with my dad in his truck this past saturday. we stopped by the gas station. some guy came up to my dad with a towel and a can of some cleaner. from the passenger seat, i could see him trying to get my dads attention. he was standing off a distance, then he'd lean a little bit and look towards my dad; then he'd walk a few steps away and come back and start standing and leaning again. my dad finally noticed him. the guy said, "can i interest you in a free demonstration in this window cleaner? it'll clean your windows and headlights, too." he was a tall, large white guy wearing a polo shirt. i noticed he was wearing a silver wedding ring. I don't know why i noticed this. back to the story. my dad said, "no thanks."  the guy smiled and said, "no problem," and then he walked away. a few minutes later a second guy comes up to my dad with the same towel and can of cleaning solution. this guy was mexican and wearing sunglasses. he was a bit overweight, and i noticed he had a tattoo on his left forearm. this guy wasn't wearing a wedding ring. he goes up to my dad very confidently and asks, "hey, boss. mind if give you a free demonstration on your windows?" my dad says, "no thanks," again, but just as he said it, the guy sprays the cleaner on my dad's truck and starts wiping it with a towel. What the hell! he told you no, but you do it anyway? what kind of asshole are you? immediately i got uncomfortably angry. meanwhile, the guy was still talking, and i could hear him give a few cheesy lines to my dad. "i bet this stuff will work great on your ferrari at home." my dad is a gardener and drives a beat to hell 2003 toyota tacoma. "i bet you only drive the ferrari on weekends, huh?" my dad laughed at this; i got even angrier. then the guy said something, and then for the first time looked inside the truck and at me sitting in the passenger seat, and said, "isn't that right, boss?" i've told you before i hate being called 'boss,' or 'chief,' or any variation of those condescending, flippant names. i told you i was already furious with this asshole. i wanted him gone. at that point i said, pointing to the window he just sprayed and wiped, "hey, do you think you can do the whole car?" "yeah, i could do that," he said, "but i'd have to charge you a thousand bucks." i could tell he was annoyed. "that's not a demonstration, that's a service fee," I said, grinning. he looked even more annoyed, so he changed topics. "so, uh, what kind of work do you guys do?" "gardening, mowing," i said. "oh, so you guys work all day in the sun, huh?" "yup, we're busting our asses everyday out there." at this point i think i really started to annoy him. he said, "well, i don't know what that's like, you know? it's not like i work or anything. i don't even like to work, you know?" i didn't say anything. i kept grinning at him. then he started talking about staying hydrated in the sun, and you know what's really good? those gatorade energy cubes. --(at this point he's kind of backing up a bit)-- like, seriously, take those, and it makes a big difference. then, not sure what to do next, he said, "well, okay. you guys have a good day," and quickly walked away. i really think i annoyed the crap out of him. i know he was only trying to do his job, but i had to say something: if i (or my dad) tells you don't spray crap on my car, then don't spray crap on my car.

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[from april 13, 2012]

It's raining today. It's coming down torrentially. I can't remember when this happened last. And there are brief cracks of thunder, too. Whenever it rains, I get a nervous foreboding that I left something vaulable outside, and as I sit safely and quietly in my house, whatever that thing is is getting soaked and ruined outisde. But, I supposed if it was really valuable to me, I'd have a mind not to leave it outside. But some things don't fit inside, do they?

Now that I'm twenty-one and am able to legally drink, I have only the slightlest inclinatino to do so. About a month ago, my uncle was rushed to the hospital because he was coughing up blood. It turns out he has cerosis of the liver. He's somewhat better now and out of the hospital, but that incident got me into a reflective mood. Almost anything that happens in my life gets me in a reflective mood.

Am I going to have liver problems when I'm older? Will I have to suffer like all my aunts and uncles and grandparents on my mother's side, and fight diabetes and arthritis and liver failure (my other uncle has also had trouble with his liver)? What are the chances I'll have the same problems?

Which then got me thinking about health.

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[july 8, 2013]

epilogue:

Anonymously Me, it feels like the only reason i keep writing is to talk to you. i know my goal is to record my life in an honest and true way, but i feel sometimes my feelings for you supersede this objective. not in a horrible way. sometimes i find myself filtering out thoughts in an effort to please the thought i have of you in my head: will she like this? will she be offended by these thoughts? does talking about other women make her jealous? then there's this recent thought i've had: what if you're not really you? what if you're not who you say you are? i'm not calling you a liar, i'm only scared of getting hurt. what if i've fallen in love with someone who doesn't exist? what if you're made up, the creation of some guy somewhere as an experiment? then again, how do you know i really am who i say i am? what if i say my name really is Tom? how can you know? why should you trust me? even if we ever skyped or sent photos of ourselves, we could still be lying about who we are. i could really be a sixteen year old high school kid with serious social anxiety. you could be anyone other than myself; i could be anyone other than yourself. is it worth it to trust me? should i put in the effort to trust you? what's the point of all this? i feel my heart ripping everyday at the thought that you won't want me. i'm afraid we'll never be together, even though i know it will never happen. i'm struggling to find a reason to keep going, to keep writing out my feelings and guts and mind into this empty place where the only other soul to reach out i have to believe is who they say they are. is this really living? or am i truly empty of the deeper emotional connection i thought i had with you? do you even know what i'm talking about, or do you only see me as a diversion in the story of your life? in the past few months i've realized i have feelings for you, whoever you are, whether you're a real living, sweet, funny, sarcastic, strange person, or the character creation of another totally separate from the person i love. it is true that to me, you're a real person. it is true that with you, i am in love with. however, the reality may be different. if you turn out to be a created character, and the truth is one day revealed, i won't stop loving you, Anonymously Me--because in my mind, you'll have always existed, will continue to exist, and you are with whom i have fallen in love with.