i want to talk about a few things on my mind today.
went to work around 7:30, got home at 8. there was three of us today; recently it's just been my dad and me. since school is starting soon, my dad is looking for a permanent worker. his last one quit at the start of summer because he found a better situation elsewhere. that's why i've been helping my dad so much. not for the money, because i don't need money right now. not in the way that if i don't have $50 i'll be homeless. the money comes secondary to helping my dad. and he does need a lot of help, because the work he does is tough. today, alone, i think i mowed the equivalent of 16 houses. let's see. . . 7 here, 4 there, the big apartments in Inglewood at least count as 4, then there's the 2 places across the street. Yeah, 16 or 17 houses. Plus, cleaning and raking and lifting heavy containers full of cut grass. Damn, i'm pretty tired right now.
oh yeah, this afternoon we were waiting in the truck for my dad, eating hamburgers for lunch, and the new guy played the same song on his phone for about forty-five minutes. he likes ranchera music. 'It is a beautiful day. . . Let's go out and have fun!. . .There will be woman, beer, and wine. . . OoOoOoOoooOOOOOhhh!'
I wish i knew what the song was. not really.
haha, i actually do really like that kind of music. i grew up around it, so how could i not? it's in my bones and muscle: the things i need to dance with the hips.
On the drive home, we also heard this one on the radio, which is a staple of any Mexican/Latin wedding/birthday/family gathering with 80 people/party, mainly with family, with 85 people. 'Oh how it hurts me, how it hurts me, how it hurts me, that they should take you out to dance!' They play this song every time. Every time. And everyone goes crazy! Instant dance floor filler. You thinking I'm kidding? I'm not kidding. Every time there's a DJ and a dance floor. This song will come on that night. People will get up and dance. Guaranteed.
haha, i'm nothing like that guy singing. i have been around that culture a lot, though. the macho man culture. boots, trucks, cowboy hats, tight trousers, exposed chest, drinking coronas. it's all there.
on the corner of western and 55th street today, a tall white cop was talking to a young black woman. he had shades on, and he was leaning with one arm straightened on the wall - like if he was at a bar chatting her up. the girl, maybe around 16 or 17, wore gray shorts with flowers on them. she had her hands behind her back, as she stared up listening to the cop.
i smiled when i saw a 30 year old black guy walking down the street with his 2 year old son. he placed his hand on top of his son's small round head, guiding him away from walking into a wall or something. his kid had a big protruding belly under a white tank-top, and his face was chubby and brown.
More Thing That I Like:
finishing work for the day
quiet car rides home - coming from a party or something
ice in my drink
that big stretch when you wake up
when traffic lights stay green even though i'm far away
when a song i like comes on the radio
putting on clean clothes
going to the movies by myself
...just thought of more
ranchera music - music of the rancho
absurd movies - zoolander, dodgeball, anchorman come to mind
eating fruit - especially if it's already sliced-up
being somewhere early - although i rarely am
getting up before sunrise
putting clean sheets on my bed
the chilly freeze of ocean wind - last time i said cool wind, which i felt didn't exactly fit
riding on a skateboard
thinking you'll see someone you don't want to see somewhere, and never seeing them
living through a fear and feeling okay
That's all i can come up with for now. there should be more. i'll come up with even more later.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
july 31, 2013 - a list of things
god, it's 2 in the morning and i have to wake up at 6.
um, i don't know what to talk about tonight.
I think i'll make a list of things that i like.
Things That I Like:
clever humor
good books
being alone when it's dark and raining
talking to people every once in a while
cold weather in a warm coat
passing a test at school
warms beds and cold nights
driving alone
being praised
scratching a really good itch on the bottom of your foot
when there's no traffic at night
hugs every once in a while
drinking a lot of water
being stronger than i was a year and a half ago
cats and dogs
calmness
feeling sad and crying during a good movie - catharsis, i guess
sitting quietly outside
the cool wind of the ocean
beach volleyball
having read the textbook before coming to class/
ALSO, having done my homework before coming to class
when people like having me around
waking up with dry mouth and taking a long drink of water
feeling confident in my favorite hoodie
staying in clean hotel rooms
air conditioning
having money in the bank
fantasizing about a successful future
playing dungeons and dragons
playing frisbee
being alone without risk of other people around
re-reading a book and understanding it better
when i parallel park perfectly - i'm pretty good at parallel parking, actually
taking naps - sometimes
seeing live plays
That's all i'll list for now. i'll add more stuff tomorrow, maybe.
um, i don't know what to talk about tonight.
I think i'll make a list of things that i like.
Things That I Like:
clever humor
good books
being alone when it's dark and raining
talking to people every once in a while
cold weather in a warm coat
passing a test at school
warms beds and cold nights
driving alone
being praised
scratching a really good itch on the bottom of your foot
when there's no traffic at night
hugs every once in a while
drinking a lot of water
being stronger than i was a year and a half ago
cats and dogs
calmness
feeling sad and crying during a good movie - catharsis, i guess
sitting quietly outside
the cool wind of the ocean
beach volleyball
having read the textbook before coming to class/
ALSO, having done my homework before coming to class
when people like having me around
waking up with dry mouth and taking a long drink of water
feeling confident in my favorite hoodie
staying in clean hotel rooms
air conditioning
having money in the bank
fantasizing about a successful future
playing dungeons and dragons
playing frisbee
being alone without risk of other people around
re-reading a book and understanding it better
when i parallel park perfectly - i'm pretty good at parallel parking, actually
taking naps - sometimes
seeing live plays
That's all i'll list for now. i'll add more stuff tomorrow, maybe.
Monday, July 29, 2013
a lot to talk about. really? yeah, it's unusual.
I wrote these ideas in my backyard while working out.
Creeping on instagram. i didn't have anything better to do today, so I decided to see some of my friends photos on instagram. i don't have instagram, but it's easy to see public profiles. is that creepy? i don't know how to judge anymore. whatever, I don't care. anyway, i was moving from profile to profile, and i came across one profile which i looked at for a while. it was a guy i knew back in high school, who is currently in Boston or somewhere for what i assume is graduate school. and looking at that just made me feel like shit.
Don't like the term creepy. people overuse it. if i were called creepy, it would hurt a lot. i don't even know what the boundaries of creepy are. it seems dismissive though. like, if you're creepy, you're also these other things in a list of 'Bad Things For A Human Being To Be.'
Hard to like myself when I haven't accomplished much. Don't have a career, a girlfriend, or a college degree. I barely have friends. Back to the instgram thing. I felt like shit because I saw these pictures of this guy who is doing something great with his life, and i'm just here wasting my time. I haven't accomplished anything, and it makes me feel regret and sadness. It's hard to like yourself when you don't feel like you've done anything with your life.
Comparing yourself to other people is bad. My dad was talking about this two weeks ago. He grew up on a ranch in mexico until 14 or 15, then he traveled to the united states. in his mind, he doesn't judge people based on their social standings. if, for example, someone is a doctor and has lots of money, my dad will look at this person the same as if they were a barber or something. he says that he determines what kind of person they are based on their integrity, their kindness, their blah, blah, stuff like that. You know, stuff we think makes a person good. that's how i want to see people. you'll never be happy if you compare yourself to other people.
Old asian man driving a coffee. that's self-explanatory. no it's not. okay, all it is is this incident last week, I think, when I was sitting in McDonald's somewhere in Los Angeles looking out the window. I see this old asian man backing out of a parking spot. he's old, so he's backing out realllly slowly, like err -stop - err-err - stop. Stop. STOP! err-err. Like that. what the old guy doesn't notice as he's backing out is that he left his cup of coffee on the roof of his car. i'm like, uh, will he notice? will he notice? will he. . .ah, he's not gonna notice. i jump out of my seat and run outside. imagine some mexican guy, patchy facial hair, dirty clothes, crazy look in his eye, leap out of McDonald's and run straight at you as you're sitting in your car. i'm pretty sure i terrified him when i reached his window. i kept pointing above the car, and because he had the windows rolled up, i couldn't shout at him, "YOU GOT COFFEE ON TOP OF YOUR CAR, OLD MAN!!!" he panicked, and started looking behind his car, interpreting my wild hand motions as, "Oh my God, you're about to hit someone - Look ouuuuuuuuuuuuuut - " so i just grabbed the coffee from the top of his car and held it out for him to see. he went, ohh, now i understand, and when he rolled down his window he said, "ah, thank you, thank you." i couldn't help it: i gave him the biggest, most genuine smile i could give; i felt sorry for the guy because i knew something like that could happen - and does happen - to me all the time. i just smiled big and gladly at him and said, "no problem," and walked back inside.
Sadness leaks out of me. still, it's hard to like myself when i haven't accomplished anything.
Imagine winning lottery. Invite my friends with message: "It'd mean a lot to me." If they show, give them $20,000. oh yeah, this is some daydream i was thinking about today. i imagined winning like a 260 million dollar lottery, and let's say, after taxes, i'd have 114 million dollars left. that's still a lot of money. so i though, well, if i did have 114 million dollars, i'd probably give some to my friends. one of my friends needs like 10, 000 for a paramedic class, so i thought that would be nice to give him money. but then i thought, well, i heard that when people find out you've won the lottery, all the want is to be pals with you so you'd give them money. i thought i'd find a way around this. and by the way, if i ever did win the lottery, i'd keep it a secret my entire life. maybe i'd tell my parents. maybe. anyway, back to the way around moochers. what i'd do is wait for a special occasion, say my birthday or something, and a month before, send out invites to people. I'd say something like, "Hey, guys. I'm having a birthday party next month on the 17 [not actually my birth date] at around 8 pm. I'd really appreciate it if you'd come; it would mean a real lot to me. If possible, I'd appreciate it if you got the day off work to come." it would go like that. then, when the day came, i'd wait about an hour after the party starts, then i'd say, "everyone, i'd like to thank you for coming. it means a lot to me. and because it means a lot, i have something special to announce." I would lie, most definitely. "You see, recently i've received an inheritance from a wealthy relative of quite a bit of money. not millions of dollars exactly, but enough for me to live off of for a few years very comfortably. so, in the spirit of giving, i though i'd share some of this good fortune with you - or, rather, to give some to you." and then i'd take out these backpacks from somewhere, and give one to each person. inside would be $20,000 in cash. I was also thinking something like a money belt, but i guess it doesn't matter. everyone would be in disbelief. "What?" "What's going on?" "Are you really giving us this money?" "You're joking, right? This is a joke. It's gotta be a joke." "Dude, I can't accept all this money." Etc, etc. Then I'd say, "Guys, this is my gift to you. However, it does come with the condition that you never expect to receive any more money from me ever again. Not even presents. This is all that I'll ever give any of you." I'd have some lawyers draft some contract that state the money is a gift and will never have to be repaid. the contracts would also have something in there about how i'm not responsible for any loses incurred by the receiving of the money, nor are they ever entitled to any more money. stuff like that, so that in the future, if i'm like ever invited to one of their weddings, they won't expect a new house as a wedding gift or something. They'd be all like, "Yeah! Woo" "Thanks, man!" "Dude, I can't believe it!" and i'd say, "Don't mention it. now, let's party!" and we'd all get drunk in my backyard, and i might even get a blowjob from a girl.
of course, i'd give some money to my parents. i still wouldn't tell them i won the lottery though.
Sometimes I don't feel like I deserve to be sad or miserable. I say to myself, Some people have real problems to be sad about. I'm sad because my laziness, social anxiety, and lack of motivation have resulted in a lame life. What a cry baby I am.
I like to be alone, but I need contact with people from time to time. i realize that my contact with other people is limited. and that's because i limited it myself. one of the main sources of contact with other people is here.
Driving to Colton to see meteors. And a girl. not exactly. okay, tell me if this is creepy (i don't like that word.) i think back in my second year of college, so like 3 years ago. to condense a very meticulous story short, some girl i liked in middle school, who was a year younger than me, and I had encountered each other one day at my house, because my sister was friends with her, and we spent some time together - with my sister and another one of her friends, too. well, it turned out that i still liked her. i find out that she's moving away from the city i live in, to another city called Colton about a lot of miles away - it's right next to Riverside, which is quite a bit of a drive. ( i still find it funny that you know about Riverside, because it's not a very hip, trendy city. anyway - ) so i'm like, "Dammit, how can i talk to this girl more face-to-face if she lives an hour away. i don't even know if she likes me back. Dang, what am i going to do?" Well, it turns out i'm going to do nothing. not entirely true, actually. she did give me a phone number when she left that day when i met her again. however, it turned out to be like her cousin's phone number or something, and when i texted it, i never got a reply. okay, that may be creepy, but that's not what i was referring to in the beginning of the story. i don't remember when this happened, you can look it up if you want, but around this time when i fell for this middle school crush again there was going to be a meteor shower for a few days. it was probably a month or two after she moved cities, to colton, so she was still alive in my mind, and i still had hopes that we'd end up liking each other somehow. seriously, it never occurs to me how it would happen; only that, by some miraculous coincidence, we'd end up in a relationship. i think it was the last night of the meteor showers, and i really wanted to see them. unfortunately, i live in a light polluted area, and the only way to actually see the sky would be to drive a number of miles away from the city lights into the canyons and/or mountains - which, on the night of the last meteor show, didn't seem worth the effort to me. so instead, i hung out with my friends. i forget what we do, but it's around 10:30 or 11 o'clock at night when I decide to go home. i'm on my way home, still thinking about this girl, when i decide that i want doughnuts. i go by myself to this doughnut place and get a couple - just, you know, to tide me over before i go to sleep. as i'm back inside my car, staring down these empty city streets because it's like a Wednesday at 11 o'clock at night, i start to feel lonely, and i get this restless feeling inside me. i'd just started driving for a year, i hadn't really taken my car any where far - only around my house and around town a bit - and i felt like exploring just a bit. i decide to do this on my way home. when i'm literally a block away from my house, i decide to keep going and make a turn onto a main street. for some reason, maybe it's because i don't know the area and i want to explore it, or because - secretly, deep down in my mind - i know it's the direction she's in, but i start to drive east. the night is warm, there's no moon and it's black outside. i have my windows down with my favorite cassette in the tape deck. (no, this isn't 1989; my car is old and doesn't have a CD player). i'm rocking, I'm jamming at the top of my lungs. i'm heading in a new direction i've never been before. the wide streets are completely empty of cars, but they're lit up just like it's only for me. the main street i'm on passes through numerous cities. at some point it's name changes, then changes again. soon that street ends, and i start to drive onto smaller, less well lit streets. i see the time on my dashboard and it begins to get later and later. soon an hour passes and i'm still driving east - taking whatever road i can find as long as i head east. i take surface streets, and quiet residential streets, and shitty pot hole streets that pass by abandoned-looking railroad crossing. I even take a dirt road once or twice, and pretty soon the street lights are gone and the only way to see is by headlight. it never occurred to me to ask myself, "Where the hell are you going?" never occurred to me to say, "okay, this is far enough. let's go home; it's already midnight and you're tired." I kept driving, always on surface streets and never entering the freeways. a weird thought began to form in my head: "this is where she lives; i'm getting closer to where she lives." i didn't know where she lives, because we hadn't spoke since that day, but just getting closer to her city was a comfort for me. And at the same time, it wasn't as if I was doing this all for her. in reality, she was a strict after thought after I had finally found myself in the city of Redlands - pretty much where city meets desert.
(i also remember driving through the University of California, Riverside for some reason - i think because i was recently rejected from there, and it was a sort of romantic midnight meeting of sorts - a soft, nostalgic goodbye, even though i'd never been there before. Totally didn't know where i was going, passed through like three little streets, about fifteen speed bumps, and some people coming out of a building looked at me funny as i drove by. not exactly a memorable, romantic experience.)
in redlands, i remember turning into this community of houses near the mountains. i remember driving around in loops and coming back down to a deserted street with houses on one side and an empty field on the other. i remember the rows of street lamps glowing yellow as i listened to my favorite cassette flip sides for the twentieth time in the past hour and a half. i remember thinking, "What the hell am I doing out here all by myself, man? I don't know where I am. What should I do now?" as was driving, i saw a sign on the road near the mountains: city of BIG BEAR - (some number) MILES. I though, shit, am i close to big bear? from the little i knew of it, i knew it was a resort city in the high mountains, and that it snowed there. and i also knew that if i got caught in a snowstorm up there, i'd probably die. but then this final idea occurred to me, which intrigued me so much that i couldn't resist doing it. "big bear is in the mountains," i thought. "there's supposed to be a meteor shower tonight, the final day i think, and i think if i drive far enough into the mountains, i'd be able to see more than 20 stars in the sky at once." so i started to drive to Big Bear on the 330 - entirely unplanned, not even knowing which roads to take but rather following dark signs only illuminated by my dim headlights. in my ignorance, i was thinking, "Am i gonna need snow tires or something? should i have brought chains in case it snows?" I drive about five to ten miles into the dark mountains north of Colton and Redlands. the air is starting to chill a little bit. i've turned my music down, and now i'm listening with my head out the window to the immense emptiness of a mountain road at night. all of a sudden i'm hearing nature: not just crickets, but strange bird sounds, and wet river sounds, and weird screeching cicada sounds, and a thousand other sounds at once which i've never heard in my entire life, and which suddenly take up the whole space of the trees and cliffs on the sides of the road. i'm deep in the mountains now, really far away from the cities, and i'm getting pretty scared i might fall off the edge of the road and die. and then in the solid chilly darkness, i look up to see any meteors or stars, and for the first time ever in my life, i see the sky. i see millions of stars glowing brightly in the dark at once. i see milky ways, and venus' and mars'. i see colors which don't exist here on earth. i see shapes and patterns in the stars' alignments. i see everything which i'd never seen at home. then i see something streak across the sky. then immediately another. then another. and another. and the meteors i see are not only streaks of white light; they're purple and green and orange too. and i'm like, "Wow, why didn't anyone tell me this? I never knew meteor's could be differently colors. I never realized there were so many stars in the sky. it's all so much." i've stopped thinking about big bear, i've stopped thinking about Riverside or Redlands, i've stopped thinking about Colton and a girl who is probably asleep in her house dreaming of some other boy that's not me. all i'm thinking is: I have to stop and enjoy this sight right now. so i pull over to some dirt embankment on the side of the road, i get out of my car, in the pitch black, don't even have a flashlight with me. i try sitting on the hood of my car, but the engine is still hot and the heat burns my butt and back through my t-shirt and jeans. so instead, i think, i get on the trunk and back windshield of my car, and stare up at the meteors falling. alone in the complete darkness, with a jungle full of sounds coming from the mountain around me, i feel a bit afraid and vulnerable. but soon watching the meteors shooting across the stars and falling to the horizon calms me down, and i grab the uneaten doughnut i still have in my car, and sit in wonder. strangely enough, and this is totally true, a truck full of dudes - like college frat boys, I remember them being - pulls up to the same dirt embankment i'm on, after i'm there about ten minutes, and they shut off their truck and lay out sleeping bags and fold-out camping chairs, and just sit and watch the meteor shower too, with me being about 100 feet away from them by myself in the dark. and, for some reason, we just sit there and watch it together - 100 feet apart - and don't say a single word to each other. and it's lovely. after about an hour, an hour and a half, the frat boys leave. forty-five minutes later, i start to head back home, too. it's about 3 in the morning, and i'm all wondered out - i want to get home to bed. after a bit of searching, i find the right freeway, and from there it's a half hour eventless drive back home. and i didn't think about that girl again that night, or about what could have been. i thought about the great time i had had up in the mountains on the way to Big Bear with a bunch of college dudes i didn't know. that's what i thought about as i feel asleep that night.
i've don't think i've told anyone that story before.
I feel like I've been cold lately.
I don't even know what creepy is. I have my own set of social standards that may or may not overlap with "normal" society.
Creeping on instagram. i didn't have anything better to do today, so I decided to see some of my friends photos on instagram. i don't have instagram, but it's easy to see public profiles. is that creepy? i don't know how to judge anymore. whatever, I don't care. anyway, i was moving from profile to profile, and i came across one profile which i looked at for a while. it was a guy i knew back in high school, who is currently in Boston or somewhere for what i assume is graduate school. and looking at that just made me feel like shit.
Don't like the term creepy. people overuse it. if i were called creepy, it would hurt a lot. i don't even know what the boundaries of creepy are. it seems dismissive though. like, if you're creepy, you're also these other things in a list of 'Bad Things For A Human Being To Be.'
Hard to like myself when I haven't accomplished much. Don't have a career, a girlfriend, or a college degree. I barely have friends. Back to the instgram thing. I felt like shit because I saw these pictures of this guy who is doing something great with his life, and i'm just here wasting my time. I haven't accomplished anything, and it makes me feel regret and sadness. It's hard to like yourself when you don't feel like you've done anything with your life.
Comparing yourself to other people is bad. My dad was talking about this two weeks ago. He grew up on a ranch in mexico until 14 or 15, then he traveled to the united states. in his mind, he doesn't judge people based on their social standings. if, for example, someone is a doctor and has lots of money, my dad will look at this person the same as if they were a barber or something. he says that he determines what kind of person they are based on their integrity, their kindness, their blah, blah, stuff like that. You know, stuff we think makes a person good. that's how i want to see people. you'll never be happy if you compare yourself to other people.
Old asian man driving a coffee. that's self-explanatory. no it's not. okay, all it is is this incident last week, I think, when I was sitting in McDonald's somewhere in Los Angeles looking out the window. I see this old asian man backing out of a parking spot. he's old, so he's backing out realllly slowly, like err -stop - err-err - stop. Stop. STOP! err-err. Like that. what the old guy doesn't notice as he's backing out is that he left his cup of coffee on the roof of his car. i'm like, uh, will he notice? will he notice? will he. . .ah, he's not gonna notice. i jump out of my seat and run outside. imagine some mexican guy, patchy facial hair, dirty clothes, crazy look in his eye, leap out of McDonald's and run straight at you as you're sitting in your car. i'm pretty sure i terrified him when i reached his window. i kept pointing above the car, and because he had the windows rolled up, i couldn't shout at him, "YOU GOT COFFEE ON TOP OF YOUR CAR, OLD MAN!!!" he panicked, and started looking behind his car, interpreting my wild hand motions as, "Oh my God, you're about to hit someone - Look ouuuuuuuuuuuuuut - " so i just grabbed the coffee from the top of his car and held it out for him to see. he went, ohh, now i understand, and when he rolled down his window he said, "ah, thank you, thank you." i couldn't help it: i gave him the biggest, most genuine smile i could give; i felt sorry for the guy because i knew something like that could happen - and does happen - to me all the time. i just smiled big and gladly at him and said, "no problem," and walked back inside.
Sadness leaks out of me. still, it's hard to like myself when i haven't accomplished anything.
Imagine winning lottery. Invite my friends with message: "It'd mean a lot to me." If they show, give them $20,000. oh yeah, this is some daydream i was thinking about today. i imagined winning like a 260 million dollar lottery, and let's say, after taxes, i'd have 114 million dollars left. that's still a lot of money. so i though, well, if i did have 114 million dollars, i'd probably give some to my friends. one of my friends needs like 10, 000 for a paramedic class, so i thought that would be nice to give him money. but then i thought, well, i heard that when people find out you've won the lottery, all the want is to be pals with you so you'd give them money. i thought i'd find a way around this. and by the way, if i ever did win the lottery, i'd keep it a secret my entire life. maybe i'd tell my parents. maybe. anyway, back to the way around moochers. what i'd do is wait for a special occasion, say my birthday or something, and a month before, send out invites to people. I'd say something like, "Hey, guys. I'm having a birthday party next month on the 17 [not actually my birth date] at around 8 pm. I'd really appreciate it if you'd come; it would mean a real lot to me. If possible, I'd appreciate it if you got the day off work to come." it would go like that. then, when the day came, i'd wait about an hour after the party starts, then i'd say, "everyone, i'd like to thank you for coming. it means a lot to me. and because it means a lot, i have something special to announce." I would lie, most definitely. "You see, recently i've received an inheritance from a wealthy relative of quite a bit of money. not millions of dollars exactly, but enough for me to live off of for a few years very comfortably. so, in the spirit of giving, i though i'd share some of this good fortune with you - or, rather, to give some to you." and then i'd take out these backpacks from somewhere, and give one to each person. inside would be $20,000 in cash. I was also thinking something like a money belt, but i guess it doesn't matter. everyone would be in disbelief. "What?" "What's going on?" "Are you really giving us this money?" "You're joking, right? This is a joke. It's gotta be a joke." "Dude, I can't accept all this money." Etc, etc. Then I'd say, "Guys, this is my gift to you. However, it does come with the condition that you never expect to receive any more money from me ever again. Not even presents. This is all that I'll ever give any of you." I'd have some lawyers draft some contract that state the money is a gift and will never have to be repaid. the contracts would also have something in there about how i'm not responsible for any loses incurred by the receiving of the money, nor are they ever entitled to any more money. stuff like that, so that in the future, if i'm like ever invited to one of their weddings, they won't expect a new house as a wedding gift or something. They'd be all like, "Yeah! Woo" "Thanks, man!" "Dude, I can't believe it!" and i'd say, "Don't mention it. now, let's party!" and we'd all get drunk in my backyard, and i might even get a blowjob from a girl.
of course, i'd give some money to my parents. i still wouldn't tell them i won the lottery though.
Sometimes I don't feel like I deserve to be sad or miserable. I say to myself, Some people have real problems to be sad about. I'm sad because my laziness, social anxiety, and lack of motivation have resulted in a lame life. What a cry baby I am.
I like to be alone, but I need contact with people from time to time. i realize that my contact with other people is limited. and that's because i limited it myself. one of the main sources of contact with other people is here.
Driving to Colton to see meteors. And a girl. not exactly. okay, tell me if this is creepy (i don't like that word.) i think back in my second year of college, so like 3 years ago. to condense a very meticulous story short, some girl i liked in middle school, who was a year younger than me, and I had encountered each other one day at my house, because my sister was friends with her, and we spent some time together - with my sister and another one of her friends, too. well, it turned out that i still liked her. i find out that she's moving away from the city i live in, to another city called Colton about a lot of miles away - it's right next to Riverside, which is quite a bit of a drive. ( i still find it funny that you know about Riverside, because it's not a very hip, trendy city. anyway - ) so i'm like, "Dammit, how can i talk to this girl more face-to-face if she lives an hour away. i don't even know if she likes me back. Dang, what am i going to do?" Well, it turns out i'm going to do nothing. not entirely true, actually. she did give me a phone number when she left that day when i met her again. however, it turned out to be like her cousin's phone number or something, and when i texted it, i never got a reply. okay, that may be creepy, but that's not what i was referring to in the beginning of the story. i don't remember when this happened, you can look it up if you want, but around this time when i fell for this middle school crush again there was going to be a meteor shower for a few days. it was probably a month or two after she moved cities, to colton, so she was still alive in my mind, and i still had hopes that we'd end up liking each other somehow. seriously, it never occurs to me how it would happen; only that, by some miraculous coincidence, we'd end up in a relationship. i think it was the last night of the meteor showers, and i really wanted to see them. unfortunately, i live in a light polluted area, and the only way to actually see the sky would be to drive a number of miles away from the city lights into the canyons and/or mountains - which, on the night of the last meteor show, didn't seem worth the effort to me. so instead, i hung out with my friends. i forget what we do, but it's around 10:30 or 11 o'clock at night when I decide to go home. i'm on my way home, still thinking about this girl, when i decide that i want doughnuts. i go by myself to this doughnut place and get a couple - just, you know, to tide me over before i go to sleep. as i'm back inside my car, staring down these empty city streets because it's like a Wednesday at 11 o'clock at night, i start to feel lonely, and i get this restless feeling inside me. i'd just started driving for a year, i hadn't really taken my car any where far - only around my house and around town a bit - and i felt like exploring just a bit. i decide to do this on my way home. when i'm literally a block away from my house, i decide to keep going and make a turn onto a main street. for some reason, maybe it's because i don't know the area and i want to explore it, or because - secretly, deep down in my mind - i know it's the direction she's in, but i start to drive east. the night is warm, there's no moon and it's black outside. i have my windows down with my favorite cassette in the tape deck. (no, this isn't 1989; my car is old and doesn't have a CD player). i'm rocking, I'm jamming at the top of my lungs. i'm heading in a new direction i've never been before. the wide streets are completely empty of cars, but they're lit up just like it's only for me. the main street i'm on passes through numerous cities. at some point it's name changes, then changes again. soon that street ends, and i start to drive onto smaller, less well lit streets. i see the time on my dashboard and it begins to get later and later. soon an hour passes and i'm still driving east - taking whatever road i can find as long as i head east. i take surface streets, and quiet residential streets, and shitty pot hole streets that pass by abandoned-looking railroad crossing. I even take a dirt road once or twice, and pretty soon the street lights are gone and the only way to see is by headlight. it never occurred to me to ask myself, "Where the hell are you going?" never occurred to me to say, "okay, this is far enough. let's go home; it's already midnight and you're tired." I kept driving, always on surface streets and never entering the freeways. a weird thought began to form in my head: "this is where she lives; i'm getting closer to where she lives." i didn't know where she lives, because we hadn't spoke since that day, but just getting closer to her city was a comfort for me. And at the same time, it wasn't as if I was doing this all for her. in reality, she was a strict after thought after I had finally found myself in the city of Redlands - pretty much where city meets desert.
(i also remember driving through the University of California, Riverside for some reason - i think because i was recently rejected from there, and it was a sort of romantic midnight meeting of sorts - a soft, nostalgic goodbye, even though i'd never been there before. Totally didn't know where i was going, passed through like three little streets, about fifteen speed bumps, and some people coming out of a building looked at me funny as i drove by. not exactly a memorable, romantic experience.)
in redlands, i remember turning into this community of houses near the mountains. i remember driving around in loops and coming back down to a deserted street with houses on one side and an empty field on the other. i remember the rows of street lamps glowing yellow as i listened to my favorite cassette flip sides for the twentieth time in the past hour and a half. i remember thinking, "What the hell am I doing out here all by myself, man? I don't know where I am. What should I do now?" as was driving, i saw a sign on the road near the mountains: city of BIG BEAR - (some number) MILES. I though, shit, am i close to big bear? from the little i knew of it, i knew it was a resort city in the high mountains, and that it snowed there. and i also knew that if i got caught in a snowstorm up there, i'd probably die. but then this final idea occurred to me, which intrigued me so much that i couldn't resist doing it. "big bear is in the mountains," i thought. "there's supposed to be a meteor shower tonight, the final day i think, and i think if i drive far enough into the mountains, i'd be able to see more than 20 stars in the sky at once." so i started to drive to Big Bear on the 330 - entirely unplanned, not even knowing which roads to take but rather following dark signs only illuminated by my dim headlights. in my ignorance, i was thinking, "Am i gonna need snow tires or something? should i have brought chains in case it snows?" I drive about five to ten miles into the dark mountains north of Colton and Redlands. the air is starting to chill a little bit. i've turned my music down, and now i'm listening with my head out the window to the immense emptiness of a mountain road at night. all of a sudden i'm hearing nature: not just crickets, but strange bird sounds, and wet river sounds, and weird screeching cicada sounds, and a thousand other sounds at once which i've never heard in my entire life, and which suddenly take up the whole space of the trees and cliffs on the sides of the road. i'm deep in the mountains now, really far away from the cities, and i'm getting pretty scared i might fall off the edge of the road and die. and then in the solid chilly darkness, i look up to see any meteors or stars, and for the first time ever in my life, i see the sky. i see millions of stars glowing brightly in the dark at once. i see milky ways, and venus' and mars'. i see colors which don't exist here on earth. i see shapes and patterns in the stars' alignments. i see everything which i'd never seen at home. then i see something streak across the sky. then immediately another. then another. and another. and the meteors i see are not only streaks of white light; they're purple and green and orange too. and i'm like, "Wow, why didn't anyone tell me this? I never knew meteor's could be differently colors. I never realized there were so many stars in the sky. it's all so much." i've stopped thinking about big bear, i've stopped thinking about Riverside or Redlands, i've stopped thinking about Colton and a girl who is probably asleep in her house dreaming of some other boy that's not me. all i'm thinking is: I have to stop and enjoy this sight right now. so i pull over to some dirt embankment on the side of the road, i get out of my car, in the pitch black, don't even have a flashlight with me. i try sitting on the hood of my car, but the engine is still hot and the heat burns my butt and back through my t-shirt and jeans. so instead, i think, i get on the trunk and back windshield of my car, and stare up at the meteors falling. alone in the complete darkness, with a jungle full of sounds coming from the mountain around me, i feel a bit afraid and vulnerable. but soon watching the meteors shooting across the stars and falling to the horizon calms me down, and i grab the uneaten doughnut i still have in my car, and sit in wonder. strangely enough, and this is totally true, a truck full of dudes - like college frat boys, I remember them being - pulls up to the same dirt embankment i'm on, after i'm there about ten minutes, and they shut off their truck and lay out sleeping bags and fold-out camping chairs, and just sit and watch the meteor shower too, with me being about 100 feet away from them by myself in the dark. and, for some reason, we just sit there and watch it together - 100 feet apart - and don't say a single word to each other. and it's lovely. after about an hour, an hour and a half, the frat boys leave. forty-five minutes later, i start to head back home, too. it's about 3 in the morning, and i'm all wondered out - i want to get home to bed. after a bit of searching, i find the right freeway, and from there it's a half hour eventless drive back home. and i didn't think about that girl again that night, or about what could have been. i thought about the great time i had had up in the mountains on the way to Big Bear with a bunch of college dudes i didn't know. that's what i thought about as i feel asleep that night.
i've don't think i've told anyone that story before.
I feel like I've been cold lately.
I don't even know what creepy is. I have my own set of social standards that may or may not overlap with "normal" society.
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Exaggeration
guy missed by the bus. this guy was waiting at the bus stop. his bus arrived and drove past him. as it did, the guy had the most confused look on his face - like this: "wqepipofoi?" he then spread out his arms, as if to say, "What the hell, man?," at the bus driver. Maybe it was the shrug that convinced the bus driver to pull-over fifty feet after the stop.
gas station on Slauson and Crenshaw. I worked with my dad today (Saturday) in LA. We were heading to another job when my dad stopped for gas. I saw the strangest people walking around that gas station. It was packed with cars at all the pumps. Not only that, but there were people walking around who weren't even there for gas. There was this middle-aged black guy, grayish afro, a few missing teeth, ragged clothes, who said to me, "Olla, amgio. Got a quarter?" He didn't even stop walking. There was a guy there, very suspicious, who had jeans sagging to the middle of his thighs. While I waited in the car, a couple of fire department ambulances blazed through traffic - they were dodging and swerving over the road because people didn't really pull over; all they did was brake. There was heavy traffic, as the gas station was on the corner of an intersection. Cars and buses were going by non-stop; stoplights were changing and switching every twenty seconds. There were dozens of people walking around. I saw a young black guy with a fedora. I saw two asian people - a father and his teenage son - wearing sunglasses. Most people around there were black. I heard a lot of talking and commotion from every direction. I could see a bus stop about twenty feet away. I saw an old woman with a wrap around her head. I saw a chubby guy. I saw a black lady wearing a black skirt and a frilly white blouse - looked like a large doily. despite her sitting, I could see how big her but was. Literally, it was sticking out from under her. I was thinking to myself, "What the hell is going on? Why is there so much chaos and commotion around here?" I clearly overheard the big ass lady talking on her cell. She was talking for a bit, I was listening a bit, and then she said, in a loud, high-pitched yell, "YEAH, OKAY. RIGHT NOW I'M AT THE CORNER OF SLAUSON AND CRENSHAW. YEAH, THAT'S WHERE I'M AT." I was like, WHAT!? No wonder there was so much going on: the corner of Slauson and Crenshaw is just about the heart of South Central Los Angeles: one of the poorest crime-ridden areas in LA.
Cholo with the prettiest eyebrows. Some mexican guy was crossing the street in front of us. he had straight black hair combed back with grease or something. he had an angular, handsome jaw and a deep brown face that was quite clean - despite being a bit shiny. i noticed he had strange eyebrows; when he got closer to me, I noted how well-plucked they were, fine even, and how they curved just a bit at the ends. What pretty eyebrows, I thought.
Clowning downtown. I saw a black guy sitting at his bus stop in a full clown costume. Rainbow afro wig, white face paint, pajama jumpsuit with white polka dots. I knew he was black because his neck was darker than his face. Didn't see if he had the shoes on, though.
"Are you doing all the tress, or just this yard's?" we worked in Marina del Ray this morning - another wealthy city by the ocean with homes worth millions of dollars. we trimmed a giant bird of paradise at one of these multi-million dollar houses. the houses in this area are arranged as blocks on a grid. small walkways run between rows of houses, which connect to the roads out. my dad is chainsawing a trunk of the bird of paradise when I spot, four houses down, a woman staring at us from her third floor balcony. I stare back at her. she's too far away to see my eyes, so she doesn't detect me looking at her. after five seconds of motionless staring, she finally catches my sight, and quickly and nonchalantly pivots, and walks inside. ten minutes later, i'm picking up debris when i see her again. she's walking her small dog on the walkway outside her house. she has curly black hair, cut-offs with skinny legs, and has dark skin like a latin person. she looks kinda hot, so i assume she's in her thirties. as i work, i see what she's doing. she's walking around now, next to the dog but not with the dog, sauntering about. her dog is a fluffy white terrier. she's waiting for her dog to poo, i guess. i turn to my work, clean up a bit, then look towards her again. she's still sauntering, strolling slowly next to her dog - yet, I notice that she's closer this time. she's walked a few feet towards me. i shrug and do some more work. i turn back again. she's even closer this time! what is going on? What is this woman up to? this time I work while looking at her. she catches my eyes and turns away. she walks a few steps to her house further away. I say, You know what? who cares about this crazy lady anyway. She's walking like she's stoned, she might be confused about something. I'll ignore her. i get back to work. five minutes later, she approaches me while my dad is in a tree chainsawing some stalks. she walks up to me, her dog nowhere to be see, and only says, "Are you doing all the trees, or just this yard's?" i blink at her, then the implication hits me: she wants us to do yard work! up close, i see details. she's not latin, but rather a really, really tan person. her lips are puffed and her face possibly botoxed. her eyes are small creases of light blue in her tan face. her white t-shirt is see-through; through it, i can see her pink bra or bathing suit top - i don' know which. damn, I think, I thought she was pretty from far away.i say, "No, just this banana tree [i thought it was; it was not]," and nothing else. She says, "Oh," and strolls away. as i'm watching her walk away, it occurs to me that her skin is orange; she is an orange person. she went back in front of her house, strolled slowly around for a bit, looked around like she was really confused about something, then entered her yard and closed the gate with a crash.
genetic swerving. driving down slauson avenue when my dad realizes he needs to make a left turn. "I don't even know where the hell I'm going," he says. "I needed to make a turn right here," indicating the intersection he has just passed. quickly, he merges from the right lane to the left lane to make a left turn. he merges a little too much, and enters the empty center lane for a few feet before reentering the left lane. in real time, it looks like he swerves. i look into the side mirror at the cars behind us. the red corvette close behind us, who was originally in the left lane, moves slightly into the center lane a few feet and reenters the left lane. then, i see the white nissan sentra behind him do the exact same thing: enter the center lane for a few feet and move back into the left lane. i laughed and told my dad what he did: he created an imaginary pothole people were trying to avoid.
gas station on Slauson and Crenshaw. I worked with my dad today (Saturday) in LA. We were heading to another job when my dad stopped for gas. I saw the strangest people walking around that gas station. It was packed with cars at all the pumps. Not only that, but there were people walking around who weren't even there for gas. There was this middle-aged black guy, grayish afro, a few missing teeth, ragged clothes, who said to me, "Olla, amgio. Got a quarter?" He didn't even stop walking. There was a guy there, very suspicious, who had jeans sagging to the middle of his thighs. While I waited in the car, a couple of fire department ambulances blazed through traffic - they were dodging and swerving over the road because people didn't really pull over; all they did was brake. There was heavy traffic, as the gas station was on the corner of an intersection. Cars and buses were going by non-stop; stoplights were changing and switching every twenty seconds. There were dozens of people walking around. I saw a young black guy with a fedora. I saw two asian people - a father and his teenage son - wearing sunglasses. Most people around there were black. I heard a lot of talking and commotion from every direction. I could see a bus stop about twenty feet away. I saw an old woman with a wrap around her head. I saw a chubby guy. I saw a black lady wearing a black skirt and a frilly white blouse - looked like a large doily. despite her sitting, I could see how big her but was. Literally, it was sticking out from under her. I was thinking to myself, "What the hell is going on? Why is there so much chaos and commotion around here?" I clearly overheard the big ass lady talking on her cell. She was talking for a bit, I was listening a bit, and then she said, in a loud, high-pitched yell, "YEAH, OKAY. RIGHT NOW I'M AT THE CORNER OF SLAUSON AND CRENSHAW. YEAH, THAT'S WHERE I'M AT." I was like, WHAT!? No wonder there was so much going on: the corner of Slauson and Crenshaw is just about the heart of South Central Los Angeles: one of the poorest crime-ridden areas in LA.
Cholo with the prettiest eyebrows. Some mexican guy was crossing the street in front of us. he had straight black hair combed back with grease or something. he had an angular, handsome jaw and a deep brown face that was quite clean - despite being a bit shiny. i noticed he had strange eyebrows; when he got closer to me, I noted how well-plucked they were, fine even, and how they curved just a bit at the ends. What pretty eyebrows, I thought.
Clowning downtown. I saw a black guy sitting at his bus stop in a full clown costume. Rainbow afro wig, white face paint, pajama jumpsuit with white polka dots. I knew he was black because his neck was darker than his face. Didn't see if he had the shoes on, though.
"Are you doing all the tress, or just this yard's?" we worked in Marina del Ray this morning - another wealthy city by the ocean with homes worth millions of dollars. we trimmed a giant bird of paradise at one of these multi-million dollar houses. the houses in this area are arranged as blocks on a grid. small walkways run between rows of houses, which connect to the roads out. my dad is chainsawing a trunk of the bird of paradise when I spot, four houses down, a woman staring at us from her third floor balcony. I stare back at her. she's too far away to see my eyes, so she doesn't detect me looking at her. after five seconds of motionless staring, she finally catches my sight, and quickly and nonchalantly pivots, and walks inside. ten minutes later, i'm picking up debris when i see her again. she's walking her small dog on the walkway outside her house. she has curly black hair, cut-offs with skinny legs, and has dark skin like a latin person. she looks kinda hot, so i assume she's in her thirties. as i work, i see what she's doing. she's walking around now, next to the dog but not with the dog, sauntering about. her dog is a fluffy white terrier. she's waiting for her dog to poo, i guess. i turn to my work, clean up a bit, then look towards her again. she's still sauntering, strolling slowly next to her dog - yet, I notice that she's closer this time. she's walked a few feet towards me. i shrug and do some more work. i turn back again. she's even closer this time! what is going on? What is this woman up to? this time I work while looking at her. she catches my eyes and turns away. she walks a few steps to her house further away. I say, You know what? who cares about this crazy lady anyway. She's walking like she's stoned, she might be confused about something. I'll ignore her. i get back to work. five minutes later, she approaches me while my dad is in a tree chainsawing some stalks. she walks up to me, her dog nowhere to be see, and only says, "Are you doing all the trees, or just this yard's?" i blink at her, then the implication hits me: she wants us to do yard work! up close, i see details. she's not latin, but rather a really, really tan person. her lips are puffed and her face possibly botoxed. her eyes are small creases of light blue in her tan face. her white t-shirt is see-through; through it, i can see her pink bra or bathing suit top - i don' know which. damn, I think, I thought she was pretty from far away.i say, "No, just this banana tree [i thought it was; it was not]," and nothing else. She says, "Oh," and strolls away. as i'm watching her walk away, it occurs to me that her skin is orange; she is an orange person. she went back in front of her house, strolled slowly around for a bit, looked around like she was really confused about something, then entered her yard and closed the gate with a crash.
genetic swerving. driving down slauson avenue when my dad realizes he needs to make a left turn. "I don't even know where the hell I'm going," he says. "I needed to make a turn right here," indicating the intersection he has just passed. quickly, he merges from the right lane to the left lane to make a left turn. he merges a little too much, and enters the empty center lane for a few feet before reentering the left lane. in real time, it looks like he swerves. i look into the side mirror at the cars behind us. the red corvette close behind us, who was originally in the left lane, moves slightly into the center lane a few feet and reenters the left lane. then, i see the white nissan sentra behind him do the exact same thing: enter the center lane for a few feet and move back into the left lane. i laughed and told my dad what he did: he created an imaginary pothole people were trying to avoid.
Friday, July 26, 2013
Conviction
homeless couple who didn't seem homeless. saw them in Venice. one was a handsome young man probably in his late twenties. the other was a skinny, tall woman around the same age. She could have been a model if her clothes were washed and she wasn't covered in grime. (then again, based on the crazy concepts and designs they come up with these days - ) they were digging around trash cans at McDonalds, looking for cans. They had two small dogs with them. Are they homeless or not? I thought. They're digging through trash; then again, they could be hipsters. They're covered in dirt and wearing mismatched, dirtied clothes; then again, they could be hipsters. They're carrying a baby stroller full of stuff; then again, I thought, hipsters. I studied them for a full two minutes outside of McDonalds. I couldn't decide if they were homeless, or just hippies. As we left, I still didn't know.
i like girls who look lost. they wear frazzled hair, and have large, staring eyes. they look out windows all the time. they're mopey, and that's okay. i saw a girl like this on the freeway, and i thought, yeah, that's the kind of girl i like. she did have frizzy hair.
i was raking some trash at a house in Venice in front of a busy street. i wear one of those white masks which filter the air a bit, almost like surgical masks except these you can buy 10 a pack at Rite Aid for five bucks, I think. the thick dust from the trash kicked up in the air, so I positioned the mask onto my face. as i did this, an old black man with a white beard rode past on a bike. from his broken bike to his tattered clothes, he looked like a bum. he rode past me as i positioned the mask over my mouth and nose; as I did this, he saw me and then he broke into a smile and did that finger-point at me with his index finger, like if you're pretending your hand were a gun, as if he was saying, "Niiiice." I smiled right back, although he couldn't see my mouth, and shot him an index finger too. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. Maybe he thought i was a tagger or a drug-user. then again, as i watched him ride down the street, he finger-pointed about a dozen more things in sight while laughing to himself.
saw the nice chinese lady again. she walked outside while we were working and started talking to my dad. her son needs a gardener for his new house. she said her son bought a house in [city], which i know is a pricey area. his wife, she said, is a surgeon, and they live very comfortably. she wasn't bragging, only saying these things with a mother's pride. I thought when I heard these things, "Well, I could be jealous of this person who has so much, or I could say, 'Cool, maybe one day if I work hard I can have that kind of life too'." So I decided to do that instead.
Oh, by the way, my friend is back from San Francisco. I've said before that he moved up there about two years ago (haha, don't worry if you don't remember), and how when he left our friendship sort of evaporated. He moved back home yesterday, I think. Some of my other friends invited me to hang out with him, but I declined. I have this nagging issue in the back of mind, which says, "Do you really want this person as a friend again?" I've been on this kick lately of choosing my own life path. So far it's been good. Now that it comes to friends, however, I've struggled. My friends aren't exactly great companions, but they're not terrible people. They're regular, flawed and good, people. I wonder, "How long can I avoid my group of friends and still be friends with them?" I'd think years. Maybe two.
School is starting soon. I don't know if I've told you this, but I've finally transferred out of community college and am attending a California State Univeristy this fall. Barely, barely transferred out after four years in communinity college. (Don't know if you remember THIS - I told you long ago the name of my community college. If you do remember, please don't mention it.)
I'm excited for school this year. It's not only excitement in my veins, though. It's also determination. A 'dammit, i'll do it anyway' kind of determination.
Something I've never had for school is passion to succeed. I still don't have passion for grade point averages and stuff like that, yet I know somewhere inside of myself that I'll succeed. I don't ask why. I don't ask how. I only know, somehow. There's an unwillingness to give up. It's deep, and embedded. It is me now.
I don't know what's caused this slight transformation inside of me. I've noticed that I'm being truer to myself than I've ever been. Maybe I've gotten more comfortable being myself. There's still the impending risk of social anxiety waiting below, but i try not to think about it as much. I've realized that miracles don't come down to grant your wishes. Hard work and tirelessly pursuing ones dreams is the only way to get anywhere worth being. I think sitting around my house doing nothing during the first half of summer awakened me to the dull grind of every day life. I literally had nothing better to do. I never wanted that to happen again, so I decided to start a powerful transformation that would affect the rest of my life.
I can't wait to work and live for myself one day. The first step is to graduate college. Meanwhile, I write my butt off and read everything I can. If I'm serious about writing, I need to take myself as seriously as I should take myself: which is seriously. (Hope that clarifies that objective. Haha.)
Grad school. I think I'm going to go. But I need to write some kick ass material if I want to go to a good school for Creative Writing. Or perhaps I should go for a literature degree? That's already my undergraduate. But wouldn't it be fun to write? For movies, or TV shows, or plays? And wouldn't you be able to express yourself more as a creative writer than as a literary student? (In a different way, some would say.) Don't you want to stir the emotions of readers and have them feel grand and lonely at once? Don't you want to change lives, like your life was changed way back in fifth grade when you read Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli? Don't you want to put those same feelings of exhiliration and warmth and tenderness into the hearts of other people? That sounds wonderful. And pretty cool.
I know I'll make it. I know i'll find a job and work for myself and survive day by day. I know i'll do whatever it takes (obviously not fold on my priciples; I know that's what you were thinking) to succeed, have a family, live a good life. The same way I know I'll gradute college, I know I'll fight my way through and do well in life; the same convinction is inside me, slowly, transfigured and embedded into my scrawling bones.
First college. Then writing. At the same time, reading. Then graduate school. Then who knows.
First college. And writing. Write every day.
i like girls who look lost. they wear frazzled hair, and have large, staring eyes. they look out windows all the time. they're mopey, and that's okay. i saw a girl like this on the freeway, and i thought, yeah, that's the kind of girl i like. she did have frizzy hair.
i was raking some trash at a house in Venice in front of a busy street. i wear one of those white masks which filter the air a bit, almost like surgical masks except these you can buy 10 a pack at Rite Aid for five bucks, I think. the thick dust from the trash kicked up in the air, so I positioned the mask onto my face. as i did this, an old black man with a white beard rode past on a bike. from his broken bike to his tattered clothes, he looked like a bum. he rode past me as i positioned the mask over my mouth and nose; as I did this, he saw me and then he broke into a smile and did that finger-point at me with his index finger, like if you're pretending your hand were a gun, as if he was saying, "Niiiice." I smiled right back, although he couldn't see my mouth, and shot him an index finger too. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. Maybe he thought i was a tagger or a drug-user. then again, as i watched him ride down the street, he finger-pointed about a dozen more things in sight while laughing to himself.
saw the nice chinese lady again. she walked outside while we were working and started talking to my dad. her son needs a gardener for his new house. she said her son bought a house in [city], which i know is a pricey area. his wife, she said, is a surgeon, and they live very comfortably. she wasn't bragging, only saying these things with a mother's pride. I thought when I heard these things, "Well, I could be jealous of this person who has so much, or I could say, 'Cool, maybe one day if I work hard I can have that kind of life too'." So I decided to do that instead.
Oh, by the way, my friend is back from San Francisco. I've said before that he moved up there about two years ago (haha, don't worry if you don't remember), and how when he left our friendship sort of evaporated. He moved back home yesterday, I think. Some of my other friends invited me to hang out with him, but I declined. I have this nagging issue in the back of mind, which says, "Do you really want this person as a friend again?" I've been on this kick lately of choosing my own life path. So far it's been good. Now that it comes to friends, however, I've struggled. My friends aren't exactly great companions, but they're not terrible people. They're regular, flawed and good, people. I wonder, "How long can I avoid my group of friends and still be friends with them?" I'd think years. Maybe two.
School is starting soon. I don't know if I've told you this, but I've finally transferred out of community college and am attending a California State Univeristy this fall. Barely, barely transferred out after four years in communinity college. (Don't know if you remember THIS - I told you long ago the name of my community college. If you do remember, please don't mention it.)
I'm excited for school this year. It's not only excitement in my veins, though. It's also determination. A 'dammit, i'll do it anyway' kind of determination.
Something I've never had for school is passion to succeed. I still don't have passion for grade point averages and stuff like that, yet I know somewhere inside of myself that I'll succeed. I don't ask why. I don't ask how. I only know, somehow. There's an unwillingness to give up. It's deep, and embedded. It is me now.
I don't know what's caused this slight transformation inside of me. I've noticed that I'm being truer to myself than I've ever been. Maybe I've gotten more comfortable being myself. There's still the impending risk of social anxiety waiting below, but i try not to think about it as much. I've realized that miracles don't come down to grant your wishes. Hard work and tirelessly pursuing ones dreams is the only way to get anywhere worth being. I think sitting around my house doing nothing during the first half of summer awakened me to the dull grind of every day life. I literally had nothing better to do. I never wanted that to happen again, so I decided to start a powerful transformation that would affect the rest of my life.
I can't wait to work and live for myself one day. The first step is to graduate college. Meanwhile, I write my butt off and read everything I can. If I'm serious about writing, I need to take myself as seriously as I should take myself: which is seriously. (Hope that clarifies that objective. Haha.)
Grad school. I think I'm going to go. But I need to write some kick ass material if I want to go to a good school for Creative Writing. Or perhaps I should go for a literature degree? That's already my undergraduate. But wouldn't it be fun to write? For movies, or TV shows, or plays? And wouldn't you be able to express yourself more as a creative writer than as a literary student? (In a different way, some would say.) Don't you want to stir the emotions of readers and have them feel grand and lonely at once? Don't you want to change lives, like your life was changed way back in fifth grade when you read Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli? Don't you want to put those same feelings of exhiliration and warmth and tenderness into the hearts of other people? That sounds wonderful. And pretty cool.
I know I'll make it. I know i'll find a job and work for myself and survive day by day. I know i'll do whatever it takes (obviously not fold on my priciples; I know that's what you were thinking) to succeed, have a family, live a good life. The same way I know I'll gradute college, I know I'll fight my way through and do well in life; the same convinction is inside me, slowly, transfigured and embedded into my scrawling bones.
First college. Then writing. At the same time, reading. Then graduate school. Then who knows.
First college. And writing. Write every day.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
It's Okay
I worked with my dad on Tuesday and Wednesday in Compton. If you aren't familiar with the reputation Compton, California has, I refer you to this audio/visual from the late 1980s:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-MrQtOoQRpc
Anyway, we were working there Wednesday in some empty lot. Here are some things that I saw/that happened to me the hour and a half I was there.
1.) A black prostitute said "Olla" to me as we drove past her. It was daylight, around 3 pm. She had blue stars tattooed on her thighs - which I could see because her black shorts were only about four inches long. She was actually pretty, and only in her late twenties or so.
2.) While I was raking some trash inside the empty lot, inside it's chain-link fence perimeter, a guy came up to me from the street. He had on black dress pants, a blue shirt with cartoon characters on it, and a camouflage backpack. I saw him approaching from the corner of my eye, and a few seconds later he came up to me and said through the chain-link, "Oye, como te tu vas a requdo de me so tu que mi lo que?" At least, that's what it sounded like to me. I told you before that I, sadly, am not fluent in Spanish. Hoping to get back to work, I decided to try to get rid of this guy. I thought he may only speak Spanish, so I said to him, in English, "Sorry, I don't speak Spanish," and shrugged my shoulders. He seemed a bit surprised, but the very next moment he said, in perfect-ish English, "Oh, sorry, man. Hey, do you want to buy some Android Tablets?" I thought, D'oh. Oh well. I said, "Nah, sorry, man." I hoped the harder I waved my hands in front of me, the quicker he'd leave. "You sure?" he asked, staring with unfocused eyes at me. "Yeah, no thanks," I said. Then the guy spotted my dad working about fifty feet away, and said, "Do you think your boss would be interested?" "Him?" I said. "Him less so than me." "Oh," the guy said. "Okay." Then he walked away. And that's how I avoided buying stolen computer tablets.
3.) While waiting in the truck outside the bank for my dad, I saw a skinny white girl walk by. She was talking on her cell phone. She had dyed red hair, and a black tank-top on. Her shorts were so short that the lower half of her butt could be seen. Not her thighs; it was her butt hanging out. Her ripped jean shorts were shaped like a V.
4.) (Technically in Lynwood, an adjoining city. But still similar to Compton.) I saw two teenagers, a boy and a girl, who I assumed to be a couple, sitting next to each other on a high school football field. remember that this is California and practically every high school is an outdoors one. since it was a wednesday around 3:30 in the afternoon, there was no one else around. They sat right next to each other in that big grassy field - and when we turned a corner and drove past the school, I could see the girl resting her head on the guys shoulder.
The point of life isn't to be happy, I've realized.. if it was, we'd all be selfish jerks. there are some people who are happy to sit inside their houses all day eating pizza and burgers. they're only interactions outside are to go to work and to buy new cars. everything else is ordered online. they're yards are a mess, littered with pieces of trash and junk they've thrown away. i've worked at houses where these people live.
i've worked at places where nice people live, too. my dad does this place - a huge, multi-leveled apartment building in Compton. There has to be dozens of residents there; the building literally takes up an entire block. anyway, we were there on tuesday for four hours, mowing and blowing and raking. about two or three hours in, this lady comes out and hands us sliced fruit in a ziplock bag. pineapple, watermelon, mango. She also gives us water. it was so delicious after working in the sun for so long. we sat down and enjoyed it. about fifteen minutes later, she came out again and gave us ice cream!
that isn't normal, is it? that is above and beyond normal. that is true kindness. it may be that she gave us these things so that we'd do a good job on her section of the apartment block, but i think it still counts. i've also met people who give us something to drink every time we do their houses. seriously, almost every time they'll offer us drinks. it's definitely not at every house; most people are content to pay us and not interact much with us, which is both okay and fair. afterall, we're getting paid to do a service, and we do that service well. everyone gets something. but those people who like to talk with my dad and give us drinks and fruit and ice cream - those are special kinds of people. the world only has a handful of those people. we need to take care of them.
we also worked at an elementary school early tuesday morning. we had to get there and finish cleaning everything before the kids started to arrive. whenever i had trouble mowing the lawn, i encouraged myself by thinking, "FOR THE CHILDREN! AHHHH!"
i'm beginning to think that the point of life - or one of the points - is to enjoy it. how do we do that? by helping others enjoy life.
PS: I know my capitalization isn't great. i'm okay with that.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-MrQtOoQRpc
Anyway, we were working there Wednesday in some empty lot. Here are some things that I saw/that happened to me the hour and a half I was there.
1.) A black prostitute said "Olla" to me as we drove past her. It was daylight, around 3 pm. She had blue stars tattooed on her thighs - which I could see because her black shorts were only about four inches long. She was actually pretty, and only in her late twenties or so.
2.) While I was raking some trash inside the empty lot, inside it's chain-link fence perimeter, a guy came up to me from the street. He had on black dress pants, a blue shirt with cartoon characters on it, and a camouflage backpack. I saw him approaching from the corner of my eye, and a few seconds later he came up to me and said through the chain-link, "Oye, como te tu vas a requdo de me so tu que mi lo que?" At least, that's what it sounded like to me. I told you before that I, sadly, am not fluent in Spanish. Hoping to get back to work, I decided to try to get rid of this guy. I thought he may only speak Spanish, so I said to him, in English, "Sorry, I don't speak Spanish," and shrugged my shoulders. He seemed a bit surprised, but the very next moment he said, in perfect-ish English, "Oh, sorry, man. Hey, do you want to buy some Android Tablets?" I thought, D'oh. Oh well. I said, "Nah, sorry, man." I hoped the harder I waved my hands in front of me, the quicker he'd leave. "You sure?" he asked, staring with unfocused eyes at me. "Yeah, no thanks," I said. Then the guy spotted my dad working about fifty feet away, and said, "Do you think your boss would be interested?" "Him?" I said. "Him less so than me." "Oh," the guy said. "Okay." Then he walked away. And that's how I avoided buying stolen computer tablets.
3.) While waiting in the truck outside the bank for my dad, I saw a skinny white girl walk by. She was talking on her cell phone. She had dyed red hair, and a black tank-top on. Her shorts were so short that the lower half of her butt could be seen. Not her thighs; it was her butt hanging out. Her ripped jean shorts were shaped like a V.
4.) (Technically in Lynwood, an adjoining city. But still similar to Compton.) I saw two teenagers, a boy and a girl, who I assumed to be a couple, sitting next to each other on a high school football field. remember that this is California and practically every high school is an outdoors one. since it was a wednesday around 3:30 in the afternoon, there was no one else around. They sat right next to each other in that big grassy field - and when we turned a corner and drove past the school, I could see the girl resting her head on the guys shoulder.
The point of life isn't to be happy, I've realized.. if it was, we'd all be selfish jerks. there are some people who are happy to sit inside their houses all day eating pizza and burgers. they're only interactions outside are to go to work and to buy new cars. everything else is ordered online. they're yards are a mess, littered with pieces of trash and junk they've thrown away. i've worked at houses where these people live.
i've worked at places where nice people live, too. my dad does this place - a huge, multi-leveled apartment building in Compton. There has to be dozens of residents there; the building literally takes up an entire block. anyway, we were there on tuesday for four hours, mowing and blowing and raking. about two or three hours in, this lady comes out and hands us sliced fruit in a ziplock bag. pineapple, watermelon, mango. She also gives us water. it was so delicious after working in the sun for so long. we sat down and enjoyed it. about fifteen minutes later, she came out again and gave us ice cream!
that isn't normal, is it? that is above and beyond normal. that is true kindness. it may be that she gave us these things so that we'd do a good job on her section of the apartment block, but i think it still counts. i've also met people who give us something to drink every time we do their houses. seriously, almost every time they'll offer us drinks. it's definitely not at every house; most people are content to pay us and not interact much with us, which is both okay and fair. afterall, we're getting paid to do a service, and we do that service well. everyone gets something. but those people who like to talk with my dad and give us drinks and fruit and ice cream - those are special kinds of people. the world only has a handful of those people. we need to take care of them.
we also worked at an elementary school early tuesday morning. we had to get there and finish cleaning everything before the kids started to arrive. whenever i had trouble mowing the lawn, i encouraged myself by thinking, "FOR THE CHILDREN! AHHHH!"
i'm beginning to think that the point of life - or one of the points - is to enjoy it. how do we do that? by helping others enjoy life.
PS: I know my capitalization isn't great. i'm okay with that.
First Impressions: The Gospel of John
I'm only halfway through John.
Jesus keeps telling people how they need to believe in him to have eternal life. He keeps telling them that he is sent from God, and God is working through him. He uses bread and water as metaphors for partaking of God and salvation.
Every person in authority says, "No way. Who are you again? Get out of here before we kill you." Even normal folks say, "We are children of Abraham. Are you saying you are greater than Abraham?" and turn away from him. Jesus knows who will believe and who will not already.
Jesus goes around performing miracles. The first one was transforming water in large basins into wine. The second one was walking on water or feeding five thousand - I can't remember which one came first. He also healed a sick man who couldn't enter a pool by himself. There was a man blind since birth whom Jesus saw while walking. Jesus spit into the ground and made mud. He then spread the mud on the blind man's eyes and told him to wash it off in some lake. The blind man did, and afterwards he could see. The authorities asked the former blind man how he could see; he told them that some man had spit into the ground and put mud on his eyes to wash away in a lake. When asked who this man was, the blind man couldn't say. Later, Jesus met the former blind man again, and Jesus said to him, "Do you believe in the Son of God?" The blind man said, "Show me where he is, and I will believe in him." Then Jesus said, "He is here; you are speaking with him." At that, the former blind man knelt down and worshipped Jesus. When the former blind man was once again summoned by the authorities, he told them that Jesus was the one who healed him. They asked him how could he do this. Some of them believed Jesus to be a sinner, which is how he had these abilities. The blind man asked them, "Why do you not believe in him?" Jesus would later call the authorities blind. "But we can see," they said. "How can you say that we are blind?" Jesus said to them, "If you can't see, then you are fine; however, if you say you can see but really can't, then you do not have eternal life" - or something like that.
Jesus tries to prove who he is most of the time. He does a lot of stuff that's against the Law, too. Like he heals a sick man and tells him to walk and pick up his mat - even though it's the Sabbath. I don't know if this is against the Law, but Jesus goes into a Temple that is used as a marketplace and start knocking over the stalls and driving off the animals with a whip. Jesus speaks to a Samaritan woman while he sits at a well. He asks her for a drink, even though Jews and Samaritan's can't share the same cups. Jesus says that if she wishes, she could never be thirsty again. She asks how. Jesus says by believing in him. She then leaves and tells the rest of the town about Jesus, and people begin to believe him. This was before he crossed the lake, I believe. Oh yeah, even though I forgot to mention it, this is probably important. The well that Jesus sat it was the same well Jacob dug years before which the town has used ever since. A quick wikipedia search said that this part is sometimes referred to as The Water of Life Discourse.
I guess there's a whole bunch of symbolism and meaning behind this scene. Any suggestions? The well: symbolism of life, but also can be of death, ie, a poisoned well. Jesus' kindness to those considered inferior can also be seen as God's word extending to all people, not just a chosen few. The water Jesus offers is salvation through him. The historical significance of the well indicates Jesus' connection with the past. According to John, the well was dug by Jacob. Jacob (I don't know much about him), according to wikipedia, was the grandson of Abraham, and later renamed Israel by God. Thus, Jesus' words and salvation, which is like the water in the well, comes to Jesus through Jacob from God.
I'll get to the next half later.
Jesus keeps telling people how they need to believe in him to have eternal life. He keeps telling them that he is sent from God, and God is working through him. He uses bread and water as metaphors for partaking of God and salvation.
Every person in authority says, "No way. Who are you again? Get out of here before we kill you." Even normal folks say, "We are children of Abraham. Are you saying you are greater than Abraham?" and turn away from him. Jesus knows who will believe and who will not already.
Jesus goes around performing miracles. The first one was transforming water in large basins into wine. The second one was walking on water or feeding five thousand - I can't remember which one came first. He also healed a sick man who couldn't enter a pool by himself. There was a man blind since birth whom Jesus saw while walking. Jesus spit into the ground and made mud. He then spread the mud on the blind man's eyes and told him to wash it off in some lake. The blind man did, and afterwards he could see. The authorities asked the former blind man how he could see; he told them that some man had spit into the ground and put mud on his eyes to wash away in a lake. When asked who this man was, the blind man couldn't say. Later, Jesus met the former blind man again, and Jesus said to him, "Do you believe in the Son of God?" The blind man said, "Show me where he is, and I will believe in him." Then Jesus said, "He is here; you are speaking with him." At that, the former blind man knelt down and worshipped Jesus. When the former blind man was once again summoned by the authorities, he told them that Jesus was the one who healed him. They asked him how could he do this. Some of them believed Jesus to be a sinner, which is how he had these abilities. The blind man asked them, "Why do you not believe in him?" Jesus would later call the authorities blind. "But we can see," they said. "How can you say that we are blind?" Jesus said to them, "If you can't see, then you are fine; however, if you say you can see but really can't, then you do not have eternal life" - or something like that.
Jesus tries to prove who he is most of the time. He does a lot of stuff that's against the Law, too. Like he heals a sick man and tells him to walk and pick up his mat - even though it's the Sabbath. I don't know if this is against the Law, but Jesus goes into a Temple that is used as a marketplace and start knocking over the stalls and driving off the animals with a whip. Jesus speaks to a Samaritan woman while he sits at a well. He asks her for a drink, even though Jews and Samaritan's can't share the same cups. Jesus says that if she wishes, she could never be thirsty again. She asks how. Jesus says by believing in him. She then leaves and tells the rest of the town about Jesus, and people begin to believe him. This was before he crossed the lake, I believe. Oh yeah, even though I forgot to mention it, this is probably important. The well that Jesus sat it was the same well Jacob dug years before which the town has used ever since. A quick wikipedia search said that this part is sometimes referred to as The Water of Life Discourse.
I guess there's a whole bunch of symbolism and meaning behind this scene. Any suggestions? The well: symbolism of life, but also can be of death, ie, a poisoned well. Jesus' kindness to those considered inferior can also be seen as God's word extending to all people, not just a chosen few. The water Jesus offers is salvation through him. The historical significance of the well indicates Jesus' connection with the past. According to John, the well was dug by Jacob. Jacob (I don't know much about him), according to wikipedia, was the grandson of Abraham, and later renamed Israel by God. Thus, Jesus' words and salvation, which is like the water in the well, comes to Jesus through Jacob from God.
I'll get to the next half later.
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