What if we never had that fight and you lost your trust in me? What if I told you: that you should wait that I loved you that you're an asshole? What if I went with you in the car? What if I gave up?
My life is filled with "what if's": I am the Traveler who took the Road Not Taken, the Astronaut who missed the moon and landed among the stars, the Man who threw stones from his Glass House.
And here I am: too stupid to stop asking "what if", too smart to never look back.
Say Goodbye to: crappy posters, MGMT, icebreakers, sociology, SAT prep, Peter, "she lick me like a lollipop", "shoes off, hombre", sneaking in to school, bribing kids to swim, Happy Days, "why are you here?", MCW, pimp bowling, BBQ's, root beer, mock Olympics (GO INDIA!), "you're fresh and easy", causing meltdowns, going solo, being passive, Frankenstein, and last but not least,late-night AIM sessions.
Say Hello to: 6th period, espanol, Pandora, Hamlet 2, running, yearbook, PC, science, Outreach, a new printer, procrastination, slacking off, college rejection, college acceptance, the SAT, no math, more concerts, more money, less work, more play, football games (we suck and I love that), stealing cameras, MCW, less greediness, and last but not least, late-night study sessions.
Guess I'm ready.
It's not the end, just the transition. 185 more days.
I run to the prize, but I get hit by the glass window. How deceptive glass is! I keep on falling flat on my ass. And despite all the attempts, my perseverance, my hopes; I never get anywhere.
And I stay here: staring at the ceiling, surrounded by old, linoleum tile. This land without North, South, East, or West.
The figment of my imagination. How real it appears! It makes me so foolish, so confused, so belittled. Get me out of here...
I was so frustrated at Nonna. Why does she have to be so freaking officious?
But it isn't like I could escape. And today I stand here at this white-stucco house with dark blue trim covered in ivy. I stand in a place I haven't stood for ten years.
I never thought I would come back here. I dreamed about it, but it was a place in the past-the eight wonder of the world. And as Nonna rings the doorbell, I realize everything the same. I hear the sing-song tune entering the house. I see the coarse, beige carpet with its furniture resembling some library of the Russian nobility. Nothings changed excluding the new flat screen TV and a Guitar Hero console in the den.
But even as I stand in 1998, I can't bring myself to a level of comfort. I stand at the edge of the hall that connects to the family room. And judging by Her glances, I can tell I am not truly welcome here. I was so angry. Sure, this was my parents' fight. But still: how dare I come here and steal their guests? how do I have the audacity to enter this house like nothing happened?
I have to. And I stand by my mom's green Acura MDX. Displaying a smile, ear-to-ear, like I am OK with everything. But as soon as everyone gets settled in the car, I'm stepping on the accelerator and heading back to 2008.
I typed everything I felt. The essence of everything I sought high school to be.
A melange of desire and sloth.
Could it be? Have I committed the deadly 7? My goals, vivid. But I choose to lust over the future. Do I just appreciate fantasy ? Do I live in reality?
I stop at the period, and I hit ctrl+w. A chill dances along my spine. I couldn't do it. Secrets forever? ??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
No more remorse, no more derision. I can let things flowwwwwwwwww...
like a river in the woods. like a wave. like blood.
Did I hit rock bottom? I think I did. Now things can finally start. I cannot undo the past, but I can change the future. (yeah, it's cliche. so kill me!)
If my soul was able to make music, I am pretty sure it would sound like Future Islands. The compositions of their songs is so...compelling! With the vocals: I sympathize with the singer's yelps and pleas (similar to those of Hamilton Leithauser from the Walkmen). However, the singer's voice isn't too discomfiting-it is complemented by poppy synth beats. The music is versatile. Whether you're feeling emo or you're feeling happy, it satisfies all moods.
Caveat on the video: Future Islands seem to like they have been listening to a little too much Dan Deacon.
I went to a PC barbecue and ate hot dogz and hamburgerz. We did things I never do. We played basketball (everyone vs. Katie), told jokes from Popsicle sticks, and watched scary movies. We even had smores! With the fire! It was great. The perfect post-goodbye party.
Anyways, after the BBQ I went to school to get my books and it was about 9:00. So I am at the red light at Pierre, dazed, and this care honks at me. I start driving and the car follows me. I get really freaked out. I start speeding and making all these crazy lane changes because they were right on me. Finally I lose them and I drive around. So I go home when the coast is clear and set my stuff down. All of a sudden, my phone rings and Lauren calls me. I tell her the entire story. Turns out Lauren, Chris, Trisha, and Nick were my deranged stalkers.
What a night!
Wednesday, 28 May 2008
I have so much.
Friends, grades, EIC, PC. I am so fortunate. God! Very fortunate!
Right now, life is Great. Almost ridiculously Great.
Self-help Book Great.
I accept the impossible, I see the glass half full.
Later, life can be miserable. Rejections, fights, stress. But that shouldn't faze me. Today is Great.
You sit in the corner of the room leaned back in your leather chair, sipping your pretentious, corporate coffee.
"I don't think you will be able to handle it...Let this be a lesson for the real world."
What the fuck is this "real world" you know of? Raised in Orange. Schooled at UCLA. Taught at Walnut.
You couldn't be farther from real.
Why do you belittle your students. We aren't that fucking naive. We know that life isn't easy and all that shit. Stop shoving it down our throats.
And anyways, why couldn't I handle it? They don't just give this to anyone. And how do you fucking know? You know nothing about me. Yes, I am a shy white boy in your English class...but I am a complete opposite everywhere else.
I go 50mph in residential areas. I listen to rap. I ran a marathon.
Do you know that? How can you judge?
So please; when you are sipping your coffee, shopping online at H&M, reading crap like Eckhart Tolle remember this: you do not know everything. And if I asked for your guidance, I would have. So why don't you get a life and stop prying in to my life, my problems?
So in less than 24 hours I will know what position I will be next year...
A memory keeps coming about in my head lately. When I was young (or should I say younger), I would walk around the concrete jungle of my backyard. Despite the fact that most of my backyard consists of tomato vines and lemon trees, I could always find some activity to do. Whether I was building some irrigation system (water in a whole) or playing one player handball (hitting a ball against the wall), I could always find something entertaining to do. However on those truly insipid afternoons I would walk to the hibiscus tree sitting by the fire pit, and grab as many flowers as my mom would allow. Once I chose the flowers, I went to my room and found some lego people (the ninja was always my favorite). So when I gathered everything together, I would set the hibiscus on top of the water and watch it float. After making sure the flower was stable, I set the lego on top.
Here was where things got thrilling.
Not every flower would stay up. While some stayed afloat, others sunk like the Poseidon. It was unpredictable. It was random.
So what do I do if I sink? I try as hard as I can to get back to the top again. No, I was not poised in my fall but that makes it all the better. I can start from scratch, be stronger than I ever was before.
What do I do if I float? I do not flaunt and I stay humble: for it is just as easy to fall when you are arrogant.
The clock is ticking. The flower is set. All I can do now is watch and see where it goes...
I think that I am boring. I can't really say much about anything, I am not entertaining. In a good blog, people usually place photos in their posts. I am a Bad Blogger: I never post photos. I don't ever have a reason to. But now I do. So for now on, I am going to have a photo every now and then to, for lack of a better phrase, spice things up.
In other news, I really like Zooey Deschanel. But I will talk about that at another time...
I have this ritual that every Wednesday after Outreach I must go to Taco Factory and order a Factory Burrito sans sour cream and cheese with super nachos.
I sit at the table in the Northwest corner. I eat the burrito, save the nachos for Thursday.
This may sound pathetic and gluttonous, but the one event that I look forward to every week is Taco Factory Wednesdays.
I speak broken Spanish.
I eat.
I am content for two days.
But the main reason I am infatuated this even is because it never goes away.
I live one minute away from Taco Factory. Car breaks down- I can walk. From now until forever, a Taco Factory will appear on Wednesdays. It is my hobbit hole, my escape.
Tomorrow is Wednesday. As a matter of fact, any day could be Wednesday if I wanted it to be.
I have this love/hate relationship with TV on the Radio. I cannot stand them because from interviews, etc they seem like the most pretentious assholes on the planet. However, when you get passed their "we are too cool for mainstream shit" attitude, you see the glory that is TV on the Radio. Their music is what I consider flawless: a powerful guitar riff that is both danceable and vengeful, a soulful voice of the frontman, and hella great lyrics. They excel in accuracy and catchiness. If I hear "Wolf Like Me" on Monday, I am singing it 'till Friday. To be honest, they have the right to be assholes. They fucking rock.
Let me tell you about the clusterfuck that was Saturday.
Well, I had PLANNED my Saturday to go as so: do errands, watch movies, work on Calc packet. But no, this is what happens:
I first had to go to the car wash. So, I head out around noon and they rape me of my car and I am already anxious (I was a car was virgin). So while I wait I take an APUSH practice test. Everything is going to plan. Oh, but HARK! I as I drive I notice something isn't quite right with my car. I pull over, and notice my antenna is completely off. So I am like WTF!!!
I don't want to deal with it at this particular time, so I head to the library and renew some RP books. After, I headed over to my dad and he is like "TEACH THAT SONUVABITCH A LESSON!" So I head back, the guy says he'll fix it. Everything is cool.
No.
My dad orders the antenna, forces me to go to the Shop and fix it. So I do this and when he finishes I go to the car wash and give the manager the receipt.
Apparently that is not how it works.
So I basically had to pull reverse psychology: I said I would just pay for the damages. The guy felt bad and said that I needed to "take a stand for what's right". So he eventually gave me the dough. I get my car. The fucking end.
I let myself down and it wasn't supposed to be like this.
not even close
I blame myself more that I couldn't do anything about it. I didn't see It coming. Things don't look great anymore...
What's worse?
Standing next to the false heroics: the ones who took advantage of my sacrifice, the ones who look apropos but have no shadow. I am being compared to them? No?
I am a tragic fall. Beaten at my own game, ridiculed by my own conscious. And that is why I am Heroic.
listen to "Hey There Delilah", sell my body, eat insects, do outrages stunts, pull a David Blaine, pull an Evil Knievel, praise Hannah Montana, fight in Iraq, dress in drag and get low on youtube, create and take part in a 12 step program, carry only pennies, slaughter pigs, or watch High School Musical instead of doing my English, Spanish, and History homework.
ALSO: due to my overflow of "asdf" tags, I will now be using "sh00t esh000" as a subsitute; however, they mean exactly the same thing.
Lately I have been really into covers. I like how artists interpret other songs outside their genre.
Smashing Pumpkins: "Landslide" (Fleetwood Mac)
Adam Green and Ben Kweller: "Kokomo" (Beach Boys)
However this cover of "Don't Look Back in Anger" done by Devendra Banhart is my favorite. Banhart is able to manipulate a Britpop anthem into a folk song. That is talent.
I am beginning to think that the euphemism is one of the most frivolous part of language. Just because you give shitty topics pretty fronts doesn't change the context.
His cousin died by jumping off a roof.
They were caught having sex in a van.
That girl is a fat ass.
Is there truly a difference to say:
His cousin passed away jumping off a roof.
They were caught making love in a van.
That girl is big-boned.
I like being straight-forward. I feel more awkward that way. And awkwardness is a lot more interesting than small talk.
Thursday was one of the best days of my life. It's funny: nothing spectacular happened, nothing great happened, and nothing concluding happened. Up until that moment, that day kind of blew. I bombed a history test, I still was hungover from deadline, and I was tired from only 3 hours of sleep. Well I found this note in my room and as I read, a lot of things were starting to make sense. This void I've had for months and months in my stomach: gone! It was 5 minutes of pure ecstasy: I was decimeters from speaking in tongues and joining a cult. I can't remember being so gleeful about things, so optimistic. I was full of breath; energized to do anything.
Unfortunately, emotions don't last forever. And now I feel like shit...
Coming out of my car today, it finally came to me that I am a geek. I had just come home from work and I was sitting in my car putting all of my textbooks on my lap.
The car moved two inches from the weight.
Trying to be as nonchalant as possible, I open my car and try to walk with 7 books up the driveway and eventually to the front door (haven). However, things did not go over as smoothly as I intended. Textbooks lay scattered on the asphalt, notecards everywhere, and my keys still on my seat. I leave these items where they are and decide to head to the house.
It is at this point I couldn't get any geekier.
My first thoughts are of concern. Will my books get wet? What will I do if they are ruined? How will I study? Will I need to cover my textbooks again?
But it isn't just in these moments I can be considered a dork. Every moment is the geekiest moment of my life. This moment is the geekiest in my life. Just think about these small facts about me:
1. I think more about music than I think about girls.
2. My room is littered with neon notecards (racy, huh?)
3. My net attendance of parties in 2007 was 4. 3 of them family related.
4. My DVD collection is (but not limited) to: the Star Wars trilogy, the Back to the Future trilogy, the entire series of FRIENDS on DVD, and Monty Python.
5. The last thing I searched on Wikipedia was Catherine II of Russia.
However pathetic or lame this may be, I prefer the nerd lifestyle over the cool lifestyle. Life has more substance this way. After all, Rivers Cuomo loved his Dungeon Master's guide, but that didn't stop him from being one of the most badass rockers ever.
It's funny how some things in our life are inevitable. And despite how much we strive to deceive ourselves, we end up back at Point A. I don't procrastinate because I am too lazy to do things. I procrastinate as a way to search for a loophole to get out of the tasks that absorb any energy dedicated to my actual thoughts. A deficiency in knowledge makes you ignorant. But an overflow of knowledge overwhelms you from using it in any form of application. Going back to the point, I need to stop kidding myself. And perhaps that is why I am so zealous about Greek tragedies. They keep me in the reality that you can never test the stars.