I just started writing in mine and I’m finding that it’s oddly therapeutic. I wonder if I’ll find it somewhere down the line 10 years later or so..that would be interesting. To read what I was thinking “back then” yknow?
Anyways yeah, does anyone still keep one? Experiences? Advice? Just curious.
So we celebrated my little brother, Lenny’s, birthday today with out family. Same old good food, meat, and deep friend junk for the kids. And around 9 o clock me and my cousin Daisy get this sudden urge to just make something. She remembers this really easy recipe her friend’s madre made for her once so we went shopping and took a whack at it. We’re still noobs, but I think I’d like to bake and cook some more…it’s therapeutic. Plus I think we actually did a pretty decent job this time. It actually came out purty tasty.
My beautiful cousin Daisy
Baby cousin Jamie being a happy little creeper
Our nearly finished Fruit Pizza/Pie
Nothing quite like seeing something you made being happily devoured. Hehehe
Over the last month or two those closer to me will understand I’ve done a helluva lot of soul searching. Answers, resolves, understanding, anything. I needed something. And those of you who actually read my rants (Thanks haha) will know I’ve come to quite a few conclusions, observations and just general realizations in this time. Will here’s another.
I’ve been reading this book I think I mentioned earlier, The Walk. It’s about a guy who makes himself a fairytale of a life only to lose it all in the span of just a few weeks… The hardest of his losses being his wife, someone he’s known since he was a child. A deep friendship turned more. You can imagine for those of you who’ve experienced anything close to love, how hard it’d be to lose your “other half”. I kinda felt for the guy yknow? And it goes onto how, like many, he begins to resent God. Begins to believe that he’s hated by our father in heaven. And honestly I don’t blame him for feeling that way.
It got me thinking, with my situation, this book, and a random viewing of the movie “Hancock” a week back on TV. A few quotes in that movie had always stuck with me, especially from the character Mary Embrey. For those of you who’ve seen the movie, she’s played by Charlize Theron and portrays Will Smith’s other godly half.
"Whatever we are we we’re built in twos, okay? We’re drawn to each other — no matter how far I run, he’s always there — he finds me! It’s physics!"
“Mary: We’re becoming mortal. It’s us, being close to each other. It never happened this fast before. You have to leave. The further you get from me, the better you’re going to feel. You’ll start getting your powers back — and be flying and breaking things and saving people before you know it. It’s like I said. We were built in pairs, and when we get close to our opposites, we lose our power. Hancock: Why? Mary: So we can live human lives. Love. Connect. Grow old. Die.”
It got me thinking. God made us this way for a reason. There are plenty of beings on this planet more than capable of procreating without another, but God chose to create his most complex and beloved creation in pairs. I wonder why all the time..
I’ve always told people I can’t understand how people can stand to be in light relationships, how people can go on one night stands week after week and enjoy it. To me..that’s always seemed like such a terrible way to live. Such an empty life. I’m the weird kind of guy who’s dreamed of the ball and chain. It’s odd how deep down we’re built to love, to find that one significant other. And even more curious how so many of us find it so easy to fall out of love. I’ve always been a clingy sentimental guy, someone who hangs on with all his might to something or someone he cares for. Pretty weird eh?
I just can’t understand it, how people unlike me, can bear to live as if their wasn’t someone worth finding and keeping down. How people dread marriage and commitment when it’s something I’ve fantasized about for countless hours. Something I’ve silently thought about to myself since I was a kid..
I don’t know why, but God built us in pairs so to say. We’re built to love. I can’t blame other people for hating God anymore, I might kindly ask them to try and feel better and reconsider what they’re saying…but ultimately I can’t blame them for how they feel. We’re built and grow to love this one person, and so often that person is taken away from us. Like taking away someone’s air, only to ask them to calm down and take a deep breath..
I think deep down a lot of us are ridiculously courageous whether we know it or not. We’re put together so that one of the greatest rewards this life has to offer must come at a ridiculously dangerous price. You’re ultimate vulnerability. We’re made so that in order to not only give but accept love, we must first hand over to our loved one(s) the ability to utterly destroy us from the inside out. We’re courageous I think, because we always find a way to get ourselves back into that state, even after knowing the consequences of being left so open to attack. We continue, striving for this perfect joy even at the risk of experiencing one of life’s harshest pains.
But I wouldn’t blame anyone for being a coward. I think I’d just sit by them with an open ear and silently hope that they find their courage again.
I’ve always gotten the feeling that most people if not all people have this deep desire. It can be masked and justified or excused with masks of all sorts, but in the end that same desire’s always there, tethered at the root of it all. Some place to fit in. Some place to call “home”. And I don’t mean your apartment, or dorm room or house..no, some place where you know you’re going to be smiling. Some place where you know that you’re more than just welcomed or wanted. Some place you’re needed. Often times we find it in the company of others. So called best friends or our “family”. Sometimes we find it in a hobby or an activity. Helping the needy, drawing, making music, playing video games, it doesn’t matter. Sometimes we find it in the arms of just one particular other. A warm embrace, a familiar scent, a heart holding yours. Then comes the sad part…how so many of us never truly find this place. We wander from group to group, from hobby to hobby, from person to person in a seemingly futile attempt to finally settle into some niche, some home we can call our own. Sometimes I wonder if some criminals are these people. People who haven’t found a place to call home. Someone crying out in acts of desperation, clinging onto whatever they find even slightly more appealing than the rest and attempting to possess it for their own in all the wrong ways.
“And there will come a time, you’ll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.”—Mumford & Sons (via quote-book)
I know I’ve said this on tumblr a million times but never take anything for granted. Never.Take.Anything.For.Granted. Cherish all moments, big or small. Even when you ask for gas money and your folks hand you nothing but a 5, catch yourself as you prepare yourself to sigh or protest aloud…Cherish it. Tell them thank you with a big smile.
I picked up this book from the library, and around the 9th page there was this quote that’s inspired me to start a Diary. Kinda lame to start one after you’re already in your 20’s but oh well.
"Mom says it doesn’t matter what I write and if I wait to write just the important things then I’ll probably never write anything, because important things look like everything else except when you look back on them. The thing is to write what your thinking and feeling. Mom looked better today. I think she’ll feel better soon."
I don’t know what’ll come of it, I don’t even know if I’ll end up reading back on it. I just don’t want to forget. My mind has a habit of forgetting important things and latching onto lots of small memories. The litle things, they say, are what matters in the end but I want to remember everything, I hate forgetting. Even now I linger and dwell on all the little things that happened in the last couple months, like tiny knives cutting into my cheeks everytime I smile, realizing that’s all they’re ever going to be now. Memories of a better time.
Smiles are smiles though right? I’m tired of being grumpy and down.
Hope dangles on a string
Like slow spinning redemption
Winding in and winding out
The shine of it has caught my eye
..roped me in
So mesmerizing, so hypnotizing
I am captivated
I am Vindicated, I am selfish, I am wrong
I am right, I swear I’m right
I swear I knew it all along
And I am flawed but I am cleaning up so well
I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself.
My dad’s always told me I’m “meechusuh” for as long as I can remember. My quirky habits and unusual habits always plagued me in this way. I’ve been called crazy for as long as my memory serves and I’ve never really denied it. But I’ve always hated it. I don’t think I care anymore. My entire life I would strive to be accepted, to slip into the norm and fit in. I don’t think I care anymore. I don’t want to fall into the lives so many people seem to dread and complain about.
If being a little crazy and wrong in the head can amount to something good, something lasting, something comforting I think I can be happy. But for the time being, I’ll just stop caring about it. Nothing wrong with being a little crazy right? For the time being, I’ll just try and take it as a compliment.
I’ve always wondered what happens to people who remarry (after death of a spouse) when they go to heaven. Assuming all three (or more?) go to heaven do the bonds in this life becoming something insignificant? Does polygamy become possible for those who once thought it out of the question?
I’ve always had an affinity for old things. My eyes would always follow passing flea markets and antique shops through my car window as a kid with longing and I never quite knew why. The vintage “look” is good and all but actually possessing something genuinely antique holds an attraction for me that I could never quite explain.
I’ve always been a sentimental possessor, I hang onto things, material things, intangible things, just things. And I think I do it just because of the familiarity. I love familiarity, there’s something magical about routine that one only truly begins to appreciate when the routine’s broken or changed. When all your left with are millions of pictures and memories in your head to cherish and remember what once worked so well.
Antique things seem to have…familiarity in a different way for me though. It reminds me of a simpler time, a time when everything wasn’t so..disposable. It makes me think of how much of the world this tiny rusting antique car or old vinyl player has seen, how much joy and wonder this cob-webbed, dusty piano has brought. This little trinket has probably been sitting on some counter top, untouched, in a house or store somewhere for decades. But think about the people who’ve touched it, who’ve used it, who’ve found comfort or even pain in it. People who’s routines included it without them really realizing. So many memories tied to a small piece of aged wood and metal. Familiarity to one to the many. I wonder how it’s last owner came to part with it? Fascinating.
I hate throwing things away. Whether it’s a pair of four year old chucks that have become un-wearable without the aid of an entire roll of duct tape, or my tattered old Ecko sweater I’ve had since 9th grade. My parents keep telling me to throw it away but…It almost feels like trashing it is like parting with half the memories that it’s accumulated yknow? Almost like throwing away a little piece of myself. So I keep them to myself, hidden away.
I still keep a “special box” as I call it. Trinkets and cards and souvenirs saved and stored away over the years. Most of them have broken in some way or the other but I never minded. So many memories. So much of my life summed up in a few small, material things.
I’ve been scouring the internet a lot today, just cos yknow my brother’s out and I miss the internet. And yknow what I’m finding? A crap load of hate. I know I complain and protest against plenty of crap but seriously, some people(no, most people) can get just downright selfish and hateful and it kind of hurts to think about it… Maybe my opinion’s a little biased just cause…I tend to be overly and unintentionally empathetic all the time.
But yeah if I had to give any advice to anyone just out of “experience”, put youself in the other persons shoes before you judge or bad mouth. Before you criticize them for their actions or thoughts. Even then, half the time you’re not going to find the necessary personal experiences of your own to relate, but maybe just maybe you’ll catch yourself. Maybe the next time something hurtful is about to slip out of your mouth(even unintentionally), you’ll catch yourself and keep it to yourself just cause you’d know how crappy you’d feel if someone told you the same exact words…
Me and my family used to go on these random late night drives,yknow? We don’t do it anymore but I still remember those drives and the haze of memories accompanying our old Dodge Caravan. I remember how I used to get excited every time my dad called us out to go “driving”, not because it meant a solid hour of quality time next to my parents, but because it meant we got to pick out a snack and/or a drink at 7-11 before we headed off for the freeway to who knows where. Hahaha. Usually me and Lenny would rather get Slurpees or Ice Cream, sometimes just chips and soda but man…junk food was a blessing back then. I remember Lenny and I used to play the “Either or” game or “I Spy”, and if I got bored enough, I’d make all the lights poking through the windshield stand tall and sway to the music coming out of the radio by squinting and bobbing my head side to side. "Wouldddd you rathhhherrrr get Charrizard of Mewtwo?!" I remember singing along to old school Korean Hip Hop and Pop groups like DJ DOC, Clon, Yoo SeungJoon, and SeoTaiji & Boys. I even remember dreading some of the “old people” music my dad occasionally liked to switch to. I remember the same music would eventually lull me and my brother to sleep long before we pulled back into our driveway. God…don’t you miss the days when being “content” and perfectly fine with life was just a Slurpee away?
My parents exposed us to lots of music now that I think about it. Probably not intentionally, but they did. Even if during dinner all they had running on T.V. was Korean talk and music shows with K-Pop or old Korean folk music. In the long run however, my parents ended up exposing my brother and I to genres of music many Korean parents don’t even touch. We grew up surrounded by it, TVs turned to music channels several times a day, radios blaring while we cleaned the house, cassette tapes for any car ride-big or small. It was always there. And I still hear it in the background of my memories. Almost like a soundtrack to everything we did.
It’s amazing how long it took me to figure that out. I’d always just remembered the crappy K-Pop I used to listen to. It’s true that most of the music my family enjoyed as a whole in the past was Korean Pop but there was so much more in between the cracks. So much more I remembered when I really thought on it.
For example, my mom, she’s an odd kind of Korean-American. It’s a given that your youth ends up kinda defining your preferences in things, your hobbies, and often affecting a big piece of your personality. My mom’s youth was spent equally in both America and Korea, so she essentially she really is “Korean-American”. She was born in Korea and grew up there up until about late middle school where she eventually came to the States with my grandparents. Her American musical preferences was probably a result of her attending High School and college here in the Valley.
My mom’s the one that got us into K-Pop, she’s always loved it and seeing as how my dad likes it too, it ended up playing a large part in my music past. But underneath the surface of all of that my mom was and still is a ginormous fan of Michael Jackson, Prince, and Elvis. On occasion my mom used to sit us down to watch long MJ music videos or old movies starring Elvis with her. We ate it all up. We loved it just as much as we loved DJ Doc’s “Run To You”(Oh God..) Funny that Lenny would eventually rediscover MJ during his High School years and has since placed the late legend as his number one favorite artist. Even I regularly enjoy MJ’s amazing music(R.I.P.). How did I not see this all before?
My dad is a different story. Being an odd mix of old school Korean and old school American, my dad’s past is still a bit of a mystery to me. With the exception of his ridiculous gang days and his heavy militaristic roots I have no idea how my dad came to love music. A former guitar player (like…30 years ago former) and blessed with a deep clean baritone voice, I’m going to guess that karaoke (my dad makes me call it “Kah Rah Oh Keh” at home..) is the main culprit. My dad like every other average Korean out there adores karaoke..
My dad’s always been a huge fan of old Korean folk music, and I’m not talking about like Hanbok-wearing-old folk music, I’m talking more like Tae Jinah if any of you remember that flamboyant, bright colored-suit and crazy hat wearing pimp singer. He still plays it on the radio sometimes and me and Lenny still end up falling asleep to it like a bad habit. But again there’s more to find underneath the typical Korean Oldie. My dad has his fair share of American music roots as well. He came to America well after High School and after he married my mom so I have honestly no clue how he came to like American music. I was always theorized it was before he discovered he could buy Korean music in America at places like K-Town yknow? Maybe he ended up having to learn to enjoy and appreciate what the good ol’ USA had to offer. Good old papa Lee had always expressed approval in some of the lighter old school rock artists like The Beatles and The Eagles (Which he LOVED to hear me and Lenny cover). I wouldn’t find that out until I actually got into the Beatles and when he ended up singing along to “Hey Jude” playing from my computer, word for word. The same happened when I discovered “Hotel California” by the Eagles. I’d played it through my iPod in our car and he’d say “Hey~ Turn it up I like this song!” I was shocked naturally…my dad liked good music? Goodness gracious. But my dad’s oddest American music preference in my opinion has always been his mysterious love for Country music. He doesn’t know and specific artists or song titles oddly enough, just melodies and the lyrics after decades of listening to the country radio channel. Me and Lenny grew up to it and like most kids we absolutely hated it. We’d hear it in the morning on our living room boombox (later on CMT-Country Music Channel) as we’d eat breakfast, often times in the car as well. Even today, I walk downstairs to grab breakfast and get ready to head out for work and there it is, a black guy singing country music on TV. Wait what?! Yeah you heard me. Sorry, that was random but no seriously a black guy was singing country, and it was good. Darius Rucker “Come Back Song” (This song has actually been playing on repeat as I write this. My post was originally called “Country Music Memories”)
Obviously me and Lenny have since moved onto several new genres of music, most of which my parents can’t stand, but even then.. it took a black guy singing good country music to make me remember all of this. To remember how my deep love for music didn’t just appear out of thin air. I grew up with it. My entire life, during meals, in the car to anywhere, and blasting out of an old boombox, music was almost always present. My parents eventually ended up influencing Lenny in ways he probably doesn’t even realize. (I should remind him to thank mom for introducing him to his number one idol.) And my dad ended up making me genuinely enjoy a genre of music most people I know don’t even bother with. It’s not wayy up in my top list of things to listen to but the Country Music Channel is saved in my radio’s presets and I do turn to it often. You can imagine the looks I get when I drive through the Valley in my mom’s Mini Van wearing a baggy shirt with Montgomery Gentry or Steel Magnolia blasting out my rolled down windows. Haha good stuff.
Some of you guys should give contemporary Country a chance though, most of it’s laced with a decent amount of pop and rock nowadays. Hey, just look at Taylor Swift.
I’m not sure if this is a blog post or an essay…whatever. I got it off my chest.
..kinda hate it when something happens, and the events or the feelings that took place fall straight into the lines of a cliche quote? I’ve been getting those a lot. It’s interesting and sort of irritating at the same time.
Words That Hold Hopes and Dreams, Better Promises of the Future
I’ve been reading a lot. At first it was just for distraction yknow? From this world, from my problems, from everything weighing me down.. I think I still read for that, even if the stories I tend to enjoy usually have direct relations to the very problems I’m attempting to escape.
But today as I finished my 3rd book this week I came to realize something. I love happy endings, I don’t care if the story kinda sucked…I want happy endings.
I hate how some of the best movies and books I’ve seen are ridiculously twisted or just down right depressing…give me a movie with a perfect ending that’s at the same time amazing, and thrilling, and awe inspiring. Give me a “Happily Ever After”. And give me lots of them..
I think that’s what I’m after nowadays. With all this reading I don’t think I’m looking purely for distraction any more…now, I just need the happy ending to give me hope. To tell me that even if these characters and their lives are fictional…that “Happily Ever Afters” happen. That they’re possible. That maybe I’ll get mine one day. That my dreams and fantasies of the future aren’t pointless.
I want my gravestone to be next to my wife’s, assuming I’ll find someone like that. And I want something permanent in between the two sites, another stone or memorial or whatever, and I want it to read- “And they lived Happily Ever After”.
“As for you, my galvanized friend, you want a heart! You don’t know how lucky you are not to have one. Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable.”—The Wizard to TinMan, Wizard of Oz (via quote-book)
Okok I know I’m lazy. I’m posting this on Tumblr because I’m too lazy to tag 25 people but bored enough to want to fill this out. Feel free to reblog and refill though~And you don’t have to be as wordy as me…I just wanted to write something.
Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it’s because I want to know more about you. (To do this, go to “notes” under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 25 random things, tag 25 people (in the right hand corner of the app) then click publish.)
1. When I was a kid I used to squint my eyes whenever we drove somewhere at night. All the streetlights, head/tail lights, and just about any source of light I could see became stretched out an ghostly. I’d tilt my head and they’d sway and I used to enjoy watching them “dance” to whatever the radio had on at the moment.
2. I suck at debates. I’m ridiculously empathetic and I end up not being able to choose sides. I do however enjoy making “observations” about each side of the debate though. This usually gets some of my closer friends upset with me for “taking their side” and on occasion gets me killed in Mafia when I’m on a roll catching subtle things that make me intensely talkative.
3. STAR WARS > Star Trek..yupp call me what you want. (Ok I’m not going to change this. And dearest Jake, this isn’t an opinion it’s a fact. Long live Star Wars.)
4. I have terrible hearing.I used to and still do love listening to music really loud. It lets me hear everything in the song, from the subtle changes to a singer’s voice, to a hidden lead synthesizer line that you’d completely miss if you were listening through a regular FM radio. My mom used to tell me my hearing would get bad if I did this(it started in like Middle School?) and guess what. She was right. :[
5. Even though I cut my hair pretty short about a month or two back, the habit of flicking my now nonexistent bangs to the side by swaying my head has stayed with me. My brother likes to make fun of me for it..
6. I like the feeling of hands flying over a keyboard. There were times in High School where I’d miss core essays. Just because if I actually tried it gave me a reason to write and type really fast and feel smart while doing it.
7. I envy people qho can play Pianos. I couldn’t make my hands do two different things at once even if I had a gun pressed against my temple. Me playing Guitar is a miracle..
8. While guys thought of sports, fights, sex, booze, and video games in High School I pondered a future. I pondered true love, and a wife and kids, and what Kind of job I might get to be happy and still make enough to get by. I even questioned whether I was gay or not a few times cos of my occasionally “feminine” thoughts. I became a lot of girls’ “gay best friend” this way. Eh..
9. I still think of those things. Except you find when you get older your dreams become more “real”. Unfortunately the added “real” element never affects the impossibility of obtaining said dreams.
10. I despise Zucchini and just about anything in the Squash family. The only thing I can handle I’ve found is pumpkin, and only when it’s no longer recognizable and seasoned with plenty of Cinnamon and sugar (Pumpkin Pie anyone?).
11. During 11th grade or so I made an active effort to type like I talk. I was tired of typing thins LiKe ThiS and IMing things like “aite, fsho, dawg, homie, etc.” I’m getting old huh?
12. Scary movies are NOT my thing..paranormal activity..oh gosh..not the business :( (Again not changing cos I don’t enjoy them either :T It puts my already over active imagination into overdrive. Watching the movie’s fine, it’s when I’m alone in bed that I start hearing and seeing things…I once got called a pussy by a crush of mine once for refusing to watch a horror film….)
13. I don’t think I will ever understand a non-serious “relationship”.
14. I’m very veryyyyy protective of the people and things I hold close.
15. I’ve had the name “Big Bryan” since Elementary School. I’ve moved three times and each time “Big Bryan” becomes my nickname no matter who I befriend, if not Big Bryan then “Big B” or “Big Guy” and even “Biggs” on a couple occasions.
16. I like to people watch. I like to take how people talk, walk, act, dress, and even take into account the look on their faces to guess at their lives. Who they are, what kind of name suits them, or they a naturally happy, sad, or angry person? Who do they hang out with normally? Everything and anything. It’s judgemental I know, but I love when I’m proved wrong. I don’t know why.
17. I love drawing until I finish my drawing. Usually after I draw something I’ll admire it for an hour tops. And then I’ll hate it. I’ll pick out flaws everywhere and get upset that I can’t properly draw the images that pop into my head.
18. I love listening to people. Ranting and rambling about this bitch said that or how unfair their life is or how crappy this one teacher is. I like it when people vent to me, especially when they begin to trust me with more sensitive information. It’s therapeutic for me, through the advice and my responses to what I’ve been listening to I tend to learn more about myself.
19. I like it when people get kinda touchy with me, even if I respond awkwardly. Most people don’t give hugs, or lay on someone’s shoulder or even sit that extra 3-4 inches closer to you unless they trust you and feel comfortable around you yknow? I like it when I become one of those kinds of friends.
20. I love comfortable silences. Being able to share a perfectly not awkward or boring silence with someone in perfect comfort says something seriously deep. Just being able to sit there enjoying the mere presence of the person is rare yknow? So far..I think I’ve only found a single person I know I can do that with.
21. I’d rather be cold than hot. I don’t get how people can enjoy hot weather more than cold weather, it’s so much easier to recover from being too cold. And the feeling of the warmth overtaking you is ridiculously comfortable. Snuggling up to something warm to drink, a blanket, and snuggling close with a loved one on a cool winter/autumn night is a secret dream of mine.
22. I’m terrified of the future and I hate how money could be the answer to so many of my future worries. I’m well aware that money doesn’t equal happiness, but damn it would be so much easier to deal with sorrow if you don’t have to worry about paying off bills pay check to pay check.
23. I’m beginning to dislike how while the person who I copied this from had one line answers while I’m typing out mini essays for each one…I feel snobby now for some reason.
24. I daydream, constantly. I hate it with a passion. It’s like a constant cycle of hopes being destroyed on a minute to minute basis. I’ll never discourage dreaming and hope, but when it’s as uncontrollable as my hopes and dreams it gets annoying.
25. I despise how it’s Midnight and it’s freaking EIGHTY FIVE DEGREES OUTSIDE!!!
This is a very rant-y essay(?) I just felt like doing. I recommend you stop reading here unless you would like to hear what I have to babble on about.I’m too lazy to even revise and edit it properly. haha.
Hope everyone’s enjoying their summer.
As a person who has always had very little to offer this world and its people, I’ve come to certain understandings with matters of the heart. I do not claim to understand love or how it works. I only claim to know how I’ve observed and felt how it’s not only affected me but other’s I hold close. I was not born wealthy, I was not born athletic, I was not born with ambition or determination, I was not born resourceful. When God brought me into this world he gave me two things a little creativity and a whole lot of heart. My creativity has endowed me with little more but visions and not the means to express them, with daring dreams but not the determination to reach for them, insatiable curiosities but not the mind to satisfy them, and over-active imaginations without the courage to stand up to them.
From the moment I was born I have had little to give this world but love. Now that I look back, when you’re child love is nothing more than a four letter word, something with little tangible value. So I came to resent it, I began to hate it; I wanted to be that jerk everyone desire to be or be with. I kept giving it out and people didn’t care…half of them never even noticed. My love isn’t infinite… When you’re in the 5th grade that one rich kid with the latest video game or that one dude who could play basketball really well got the attention…damn. I’d always wonder, what makes him so special….?
Maybe this is what placed me on my path to delinquency. I was a bad kid, man. I mean I could make people smile and draw a half step above most but other than that, I was terrible…I was so troublesome. I became attached to “Hyungs” and “Noonas” who took me under their wing. To me, it was like finding a home. It’s like that with anything honestly… All we want to do in this life is fit in, but just enough yknow? We want to be accepted and loved yet retain enough of our individuality so that we don’t become robots… and this did it for me. Smoking, drinking, fighting; I felt on top of the world until I realized how easily this new “family” of mine could be divided. I had given out my heart in generous amounts once again only to have the pieces divided with hate and betrayal.
We as humans all are given hearts. Many of us keep a nice chunk for ourselves to fuel our self esteem, but others like me don’t. That “at home” feeling that we get when pieces are returned in equal amounts has become a hunger and a desire so insatiable that we’ve begun living for it. We hand out everything in plentiful amounts only to have our hearts returned or stolen, broken and withered. After several runs of all of this my hatred still unable to be turned towards people jumped from one thing to another. Eventually it moved on to the world in general. Mainstream, conforming, pop culture, robots, fads and trends and the people who mindlessly followed them…I needed somewhere to direct it yknow? In truth I wanted to be them on a certain level which made me the worst kind of hypocrite. I wanted what they had, not the material things, but the acceptance, the acknowledgement…I wanted a “home”…I just didn’t want it to be something so material..so earthbound.
You’ll find that many with hearts like mine will have somewhere they direct their resentment and negativity. It’s always there. Most find solace in bottling it up, sometimes it works, but it needs help. Most people who get away with it usually have something to help them suppress it. A particular loved one, a passion, a dream they currently pursue. Something. You’ll be surprised to find how much sorrow some of the nicest people you know hold and hide deep in their hearts. Most of you probably have that one friend who’s ridiculously kind and gentle. That one friend who has infinite understanding and caring. That one friend who always has a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen whenever you need them. Talk to them and you’ll find a surprising amount of despair. Have them really open up to you and you’ll realize that many of them are like me in more ways than one. Their entire lives they’ve gone and given out their hearts to ridiculous extents only to have it scarcely returned at all. Most don’t mind, they’ll keep doing it cos even then, it feels nice to help people yknow? But deep inside will always lie the hope that something or someone will come along and make it all worth it. And sometimes…the rare few of us find something that doesn’t so much suppress it as it does fill in all the gaps that have been missing up to now. Sometimes we find love in something or someone so vast and infinite that we become more or less complete.
I think I’ve found mine…or at least my heart is convinced it has found it. And in all it’s stubbornness…my heart doesn’t plan on giving up on it, or should I say her. Not for a long long time…. Stubborn punk…
I’ve gone through hard times before. Granted, not as difficult as now but hard nevertheless. It’s funny, how each time something big(and negative) happens in my life, I always think that during that time, it was the hardest I’ve ever endured.
Now I’m left broken once more and I’m struggling to piece my life back together as best I can. Never has anything seemed harder, never has anything been so difficult…. If this is just the tip of the iceberg for life’s hardships…I’m in for one helluva ride.
I continue with few hopes, one being that like before maybe I’ll make it through better than I came and look back with a smile. Maybe I’ll find that in the long run these trials and tribulations led to something worthwhile, made me come out stronger, maybe even more understanding. Maybe…I’ll look back and find that God was leading me in this particular direction to make me see something I was blind to before.
I really hope so. I really really hope so…
To all the people I might have left in confusion, hurt, or resentment. I’m sorry. I know it’s not much typing it out, but I am sorry. I hope that one day I can win your forgiveness and your respect once more as a better person.
You ever get the craving for something just plain weird? I know a few people who have shared a few of my cravings such as cold pizza, leftover Thanksgiving turkey, and the occasional spoon of chunky peanut butter. But mine sometimes go farther…
Sometimes I craved that “processed” taste. A twinky, or a regular cheeseburger from McDonald’s. Sometimes I actually crave the taste of microwaved meals and frozen foods… Sometimes me and my brother crave the “bland” taste of certain things. Like….2 day old French bread just as it is. Not toasted or fried or buttered or anything. Lenny’s even had a craving once for “Hard Tack”, that nasty stuff from the Civil War made of cheap flour and water. That sad excuse for sustenance that was so hard it had to be boiled before eating or else you’d risk chipping a tooth on it.. I had a craving for it once too oddly.
This list can go on forever but man…am I the only one with weird cravings? Anyone else have a really funky or random food craving now and again?
…got over one of my fears of being embarrassed in public. Long have I been a nerdy fan of Star Wars, but I’ve always been afraid to check out Star Wars fiction. Today I went to the Library and checked out a Star Wars novel.
Even if life’s pretty crappy…count you blessings? I don’t know..
I’m a nerd, and I’m done caring who minds.
"…because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind." -Dr.Seuss
So lately I’ve been dreaming like nonstop. It’s like I have so much pent up junk in my head that the only time it has the chance to escape is after I’ve fallen asleep. Unfortunately, these dreams make me wake up much earlier than I’d like…worse yet this pattern repeats every single time I try and go back to sleep. So basically my sleeping pattern has become short 1-2 hour naps with dreams waking me up constantly all throughout the night. I’d dream journal everything but there’s no way I can remember it all. I’m glad I don’t remember most of them though, most of the dreams are about a certain part of my life that I’ve been struggling with lately and having nightly reminders wouldn’t be too good for me me thinks.
The last one though, I do remember, somewhat vividly too. And it was different in a way… So lets see if even partial dream journaling works.
I’ve been meaning to start writing as a hobby anyways, so after a little research and how-to instruction stuff, my next post will probably be a short story based on my latest dream.
I was having a heart to heart with a friend. And it kinda came to me. Not saying I’m headed for a straight jacket anytime soon or anything. I’ve always known I’m not exactly the most normal person there is. I mean..define “normal” anyways, right? I’ve long since come to terms that my mind works kinda weird. But maybe…that’s not so bad.
I think I’d rather go a little crazy and be happy rather than be “normal” and angry at the world. What use is sanity if all it does is give you more clarity on how crappy things have been going?