bigphen87's Xanga

Monday, February 20, 2006

Mon, 20 Feb 2006 02:33:18 GMT

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Monday, March 14, 2005

Mon, 14 Mar 2005 01:48:50 GMT

Here’s an observation. We're all living at the edge of our lives. Obvious. Constantly on the edge, waiting, for the next thing. Never ahead of ourselves, occasionally looking back, but still always on the edge.

The edge is a scary place. Scary because we're all afraid of the things that we don't know are to come. Scary because the things that are familiar are behind us. Scary because the footprints we make change the landscapes we are on forever.

Forever is such a scary word. At least its scary for me. The reason being for this fear is that forever is a concept that I can never imagine. That’s why things like heaven and hell can seem so scary. How can you have forever?

I remember what happened yesterday. It was one of those long summer days. The kind that seem, when you are seven years old, to last forever. I remember the air was soft. I was lying on my mattress in an empty room. So close to the floor that I could smell the wood. My cheeks lay on my pillow, my eyes soaked in the orange sunlight that came off the wall in my room. Everything would have been clear. But it wasn't. Tears blurred my vision and made paths down my cheek to the growing puddle on my pillow.

Tomorrow, I remember, was to be the day my family moved back to California. Today, I remember, was the last day that I was to live in the quiet suburban house that is no longer ours. The edge was sharp that day. The life that I had made in that house were soon to be footprints. The times my brother and I had, believing the house was haunted, climbing the wood pecked sour apple tree, jumping down the stairs. All behind me. The friends I made, the neighbors I found, the people I loved. All became memories. I remember that night. Tomorrow seemed like a long way down from the edge where I stood.

Its all a memory now. Just like what actually happened yesterday. A conversation I heard between an old man and a young boy. He was thirteen. Being snide, saucy, and sarcastic, as thirteen year olds often are. This is what I heard.

"Look, how old are you."

"Thirteen"

"I’m 53. I remember my 40th birthday. That was when you came into this world. You don't know a damn thing."

"When's your birthday."

It's easy to see what just happened. Boisterous, proud youth comes up against aged and humbled experience. But they're both living on the edge. It just got me thinking. And when I get thinking, things just get thought of.

I'm making one of the biggest steps that I've ever made. A stride made for adults. Am I ready to take it? There’s the part of me that looks back to what was, and looks at what is, and doesn't want to budge. My friends, as horrible as it sounds, may turn into my memories. My home will no longer be my home. Then there's the part that looks off the edge, and sees outlines of wonderful things waiting. The freedom that I've been longing for, the challenges that I crave. I can't stop the progression of time. So I won't try. But I will try to remember the steps that I have taken and am about to take. And of course, I’ll try to be brave.

Monday, February 14, 2005

Mon, 14 Feb 2005 20:25:51 GMT

I guess I learned two new things today.

The first is sweet. Not the sweet that you feel on your tongue. No, I've been able to enjoy that sensation for years. But what I learned about today was the sweet that you feel in your heart. Senior girls. You ladies really know how to reach the hearts of men. Today was totally sweet. Thank you girls!

The second is love. I guess I'm getting closer to what love really is. Not the, "I love you, lets make babies" love. Or the, "lets cuddle love". Not the "you're hot, I'm in love" kind of love. Or the "Brother, Mother, Father, Sister love". But just an all around good feeling of love. I'm going to try to maintain this type of love. Because, to tell you the truth, it's a lot easier to deal with than hate. I hope you'll join me.

Happy Valentines Day everyone!

Sunday, February 13, 2005

Sun, 13 Feb 2005 00:11:21 GMT

Hey. So it’s February 14th. I don't see why it’s so special. I'm just sitting here on the bench. Look at everyone; you'd think it was all their first days on earth or something. What are you smiling at? Today’s not special. I don't need the stupid calendar to tell me to love someone. I can do that any time I want.

Oh, look, there she is. She's smiling today too. Valentines cards huh? I thought we were over passing out valentine cards. Well, since she's doing it, I guess its cute. She’s passing them to everyone. Oh, here she comes. Don't look straight at her damnit. Act cool. Ok, she passed me. That’s oka, that’s oka. All right. Oka. Whatever. Oka. I got to go to class.

"Hey man, wassup."

"Sup"

"You do homework?"

"Yeh, number 5 was a bitch."

"Yeh"

"You get her valentines card?"

"...

Naw. Valentines Day is hella retarded. Its a waste of time. Why wait for this one day of the year to tell someone you love them, when you can do it every other day of the year."

"Oh. Yeh, maybe that’s true..."

Yeh it is true. You ass. Who the hell are you to ask me if I got a stupid card? Go mind your own business.

So its lunch time. Same thing as yesterday huh? That’s cool, grub is grub.

"Hey man, isn't that what you ate yesterday?"

"Yeh. It’s my favorite."

"Oh, that’s cool. Hey, she told me she had something to say to you."

"Oh."

"Maybe you should go talk to her."

"Yeh. I got some homework to finish up though."

"Oh, sucks. Aight, take it easy."

"Later"

She has something to say to me? I hate talking to people to their faces. Doesn't she know that people don't need to talk in person anymore? I live on a computer screen. Doesn't she know it’s safer to talk to someone behind a computer screen? Well, I guess I should ask her what’s up. Even if she probably just needs help on homework.

So here I am sitting on the bench. There she is. I better go talk to her. See what’s up. I hope my hair doesn't look funny. Oka, here I go. Going. Walking there. Oka. Smile. Smile. Damnit, thats a fake smile. Oka. Whatever, it doesn't matter. Ask her why she wants to talk to me. Oka. Don't ask her, just walk by. That’s cool too I guess. Don't want to be late for class.

So. Valentines day is almost over. Lets see, what books do I need. Math, check. Econ, check. Physics... I don't feel like doing physics. Mmm what else-

"Hey"

"Hello"

Holy crap.

"Whatsup?"

"Umm, I forgot to give you this. Happy Valentines Day."

"Oh, thanks. I didn't even know you were handing out cards."

"Yeh, I always like to."

"Don't you think we're a little old for cards?"

"Maybe. But that doesn't mean we can't do it anymore."

"Yeh."

Say something else. Mmm. Oka, this is awkward. She’s just standing there.

"Allright, sorry I forgot to give it to you earlier. I got to go. See you tomorrow."

"Uhh, bye."

Damn.

Yes! She didn't forget me. Oh, it’s a Peanuts card. Wonder what she wrote.

- Hi there. Thanks so much for helping me on my homework this year. Happy Valentines Day!-

Nice. It says, "will you be my valentine". Yeh.. I know that’s just what the card print out says. But maybe she picked it just for me? eHh Heh..

Valentines Day. Not bad. I guess sometimes we just need to be given a reason to say I love you.

Saturday, November 06, 2004

Sat, 06 Nov 2004 01:11:37 GMT

"Yes, a man in tears. Has not a man eyes? Has not a man hands, limbs, senses, opinions, passions? Is he not nourished by the same food as a woman, wounded by the same weapons, warmed and chilled by the same winter and summer? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? Why should a man suffer in silence or a soldier hide his tears? Because it's not manly? Why isn't it manly?"

- Excerpt from "The Father" by August Strindberg

I had a dream last night that left me thinking all the way till now. It wasn't the most amazing dream, or the sexiest dream I've ever had. In fact, the dream was pretty regular all the way through. It was regular, except for two things, the fact that I do recall it was in living color, and that the dream left me feeling more human than I have felt in years. What left me with that feeling was the fact that in my dream, I had been crying.

First, let me tell you what happened in this dream. I was in my bathroom washing my hands at the sink. Two of my friends, Frank and Jesse, were in my room playing with my guitar. As I watched Frank handle my guitar, he dropped it, then he picked it up as if nothing happened, and then dropped it again. This ticked me off quite a bit, because in my mind, I thought he did it maliciously, but I didn't say anything. As I went back into my room, I began to play a song. But as I remember it, no sound came out of my instrument as I played, no matter how hard I strummed. I was going deaf. And at that point, something in me burst, and I began to cry in my dream. When I awoke my eyes where dry, yet I found my stress level to be lower than I have ever experienced in years. Do you remember when you were five years old and nothing seemed to bother you? The only comparison I can make to the feeling my dream left me is to that of how I felt at the age of five. I was purged of negative emotion, leaving behind in my heart a calmness that I had longed for ever since I was of age to reminisce about being carefree. As always, dreams fade off as you stretch yourself, and they disperse as the cold water from the sink splashes your face. After I got up, the dream was over, the feeling seemed distant and I had to get ready for school.

My day went on; school sludged by, all the way till Bible class. The Bible class discussion somehow wound up on the topic of men crying. A question came up from the teacher that asked the boys in the class whether they cried or not. Not surprisingly, no one raised his hand. Obviously, this got me thinking about my dream again.

When was the last time I cried? Honestly, I can't remember. However, as I thought about it, the memories that kept recurring in my mind were of the times when I was in grade school and used to cry all the time when my dad left the country to go on foreign assignments. It almost makes me sad thinking about it now, how much I cared and how hurt I was that he had to leave. Yet, as I ruminated over the issue, my mind came to the conclusion that crying when you want to, no, crying when you need to, keeps the soul healthy.

But why is it that men have a hard time crying? What social fabric dries our eyes so that we cannot even do what is healthy? I hate it, if I cried in public, I'd feel like a loser, a wuss, pansy, a sissy, wimp, or weak, with the list of words going on for hours. How is it that when women cry, they become creatures to comfort and feel compassion for, yet when men do the same, they become vulnerable and weaker members of their kind? The feeling I get when thinking about this makes me feel like a piece of stone; cold and unfeeling, hard and unmoving. But that’s not how I want to feel. I want to feel like I'm five years old and the things that bother me can gush out leaving me empty of hurt and full of content.

Then again, who doesn't want to feel like they felt when they felt it was good? Who am I to stage a fight against a culture which enforces "manly" behavior? Maybe I'll find some answers soon. I might learn to cry again, or maybe I'll learn to cope. Possibly I'll forget I ever had these thoughts and I'd be blissfully ignorant of what I was missing; only being able to remember what I once felt.

Wednesday, August 11, 2004

Wed, 11 Aug 2004 21:59:32 GMT

Let me tell you about something that happened not too long ago...

Its 12:45AM and I just saw this action flick. Some assassin and some taxi driver, lots of killing, the kind of thing that I'd sit through. No actually, that was about 45 minutes ago. You see, now I'm in the middle of goddam Richmond in my putty red car after driving this asshole bastard back to his house. I'm kinda in a crappy mood if you can tell. So I pop it into first and bump off home. Stop at the sign, turn left. Oh shit, I almost hit that car... Ok, get to the light, make another left and start accelling onto the freeway. Merging's fine. Man, I'm tired. The radios on the classic rock station, I'm not paying enough attention to even know what’s playing. Music’s steadily humming in the background and my car seat feels so soft...

My cars’ rolling fine and boy is it a nice night. Man, everything looks so beautiful on a clear dark night such as this. Bright industrial lights sanitize the dirt that is so apparent during the day. Amber streets, shimmering white strips that zip line by my car, the Bay Bridge glimmering with lights that reflect off a black sea. Its like being in my very own music video, it’s like watching an IMAX screen saver, it’s almost dreamlike. You know, its great living in a metropolitan area. I'm glad I don't live in bum suck, middle of no where. Bbrbrbrbrumb. Whoa watch it there buddy; as I kinda drift out of my lane...

It’s oka, the freeways pretty empty except for the caravans of semis and occasional SUV's. 80's a pretty nice way to go when its not jam packed and moving like peanut butter. Alright, here’s my merge. Whoa there, take it down a notch, this jellybean truck can't turn for nickels, especially not when it’s moving at 85. Ok, I'm fine, be home in no time...

I go for about 15 minutes without a single thought in my mind, that’s rare. Not a single thought, eyes glazed over, steering wheel following a thin white line. Huh? Oh shoot, I missed my exit... Damnit ... ... ... It's oka, I'll just take the 580 down to the 13 and head back up to 24, I'll be fine. Man I'm tired... I purse my lips and let out air. The whistle was louder than I thought it'd be. At least I'm still awake... I gotta keep awake.

I look down at my clock. These little green numbers look back up at me. 101. What? I'm on the 101? ... ... ... Oh no, that’s the time. Oka, I better get home. Of course, I'm sure I knew at the time that I was getting home, I just didn't say it... I'm sure I knew, really.

My foot starts to press down on the acceleration pedal harder. I feel 5^thgear moving faster and faster. Actually, I’ll admit that I was kind of nervous, the kind of nervous that you really don’t need to be nervous about. I put my head toward my windshield to see if I can tell were I am. Nope, I’m hopeless; I never take the long way home. By now I’m trucking it. I hope I don’t get a ticket. That would suck ass. My eyes scan my mirrors, as if I could see the damn cop even if he was just 100 feet away. Man, I hate those new police cars with the low lights that you can’t barely see until it’s too late. I should slow down, but it’s really hard to slow down after you’ve already been moving so fast. Because once you slow down, it’s as if you’re only going 50. I’m not about to slow down…

Oh, here’s my exit. Whoa, I better slow down, this isn’t a freeway merger. Left, right, stop, right. Oka, I’m back on the freeway. I’m so tired… The road is so lonely at night. You know, big city areas are so impersonal. If only I lived in a nice little town in the mid east, all my friends would live close, and then I’d be home by now…

I’m so tired… here comes my last merge. Alright, finally I’m on my way home. My little car gets sucked into the tunnel. Voom, voom, voom, voom. Lights in the tunnel have a funny way of doing that, they start out coming down your dash, and cast a shadow from your windshield, move down to your lap, and then it disappears. And just when you thought it left you, it just appears right on your dash again. Of course, the lights in the tunnel don’t really make any sounds; they just make you feel like they are. And just like that, you get spit back out of the tunnel.

This time its dark out, no city lights, just the silhouettes of hills that seem to just roll forever. Pass by the small village illuminated by industrial lights. Bump, up the off ramp in neutral. Left, stop, up, stop, up, right, stop, left, coast, bump, twist, slow, left, up, left, up, click. My garage door slowly opens and lets me in. Boy am I tired.

I’m not angry anymore, I’m not really thinking anything, in fact, it’s all just very hazy after that. Walk up the stairs in the dark, into my room, onto my bed. Boy am I tired.

Well, that’s it. Nothing really happened. But I’m sure you were hoping that I’d hit a car or something. At the very least have hit a deer. But no, I didn’t; thank God I didn’t.

Sunday, July 04, 2004

Sun, 04 Jul 2004 01:12:59 GMT

Trees.

Trees are living beings. They take in air, they eat, and they love to bask in the sun. Trees wave, trees rustle, and they love hugs. Trees aren’t hated. They aren’t like bugs, they don’t sting like nettles, they don’t suck like ivies. We all owe trees a little something. They’ve given us shade, fruit, good climbs… Yeh, trees are great.

Trees are living beings. We can say that their fruits and nuts are their babies. We can say that their leaves are their meat. And tree wood can be called tree bone.

Oh my F------ goodness!!! Aren’t you people listening to any of this!?@@! Why isn’t anyone outraged!?@ What’s wrong with you people!@??@#!$#@! Why isn’t someone calling PITA!? We are eating babies! We are lining our floors with bones! Framing our houses with bone… AhHHh! Am I the only one that realizes this madness?!@ We even suck their blood and spread it on our pancakes!!! TREE ABUSE! I mean, maybe if we farmed them like cattle, then it would be better… But no! we even eat baby trees! I mean, even fish get to live if they are still babies, can’t we even extend the same basic rights to trees!?

Fine! You monsters… keep using tree products… I know its hard to stop… Just to let you all know, Big Tobacco, Medium Tobacco, AND Little Tobacco are all in on it. They’re making big bucks out of products that kill trees everyday. Yeh, you guys can laugh. I once heard, it’s easier to kill things that don’t have a voice.

Well, have fun, I’m going away for a week to enjoy the trees! Wooh!

Thursday, June 17, 2004

Thu, 17 Jun 2004 17:16:44 GMT

well hello,

what's been going on this summer? its been... how can i say... great! haha, yeh, i love waking up at whatever time i want. i love... making breakfast with my underpants on. i just LOVE watching crappy soap operas. i love paying too much to watch movies ($8.00... oh the outrage...). i love hitting on girls online. i love... watching FITtv, foodnetwork, and CMT(country music channel). i just totally enjoy going to the library and hitting on that cute girl that volunteers there. uMM yeh, my summers been totally eventless so far. would i trade it all to go to school again? hell no, not for another 3 months. so far ive memorized the starbucks "doubleshot cappucino" commercial. so that should keep me entertained for a while...

on a lighter note. or heavier.. or.. just keep reading....

oka. is it just me, or does it bug you when people clap at the end of movies? JUST GET UP AND LEAVE DAMNIT! i dont care if you enjoyed it. im sure cameron diaz and uma thermon dont give a crap if you liked their performance, or even if they did, they'd never know you liked it. face it, the movie you just watched was not worth it. face it, you're now down eight bucks, oka? clapping is for people, not a white screen. stop clapping damnit!

oka, thats my two cents. you probably paid more money with your time reading this... well thats just too bad... maybe my next post will be better oka?

Wednesday, June 02, 2004

Wed, 02 Jun 2004 21:15:38 GMT

Why is it that i think of things to write while driving? or taking a shower? or before i fall asleep? what's up with that, i think of all these great things to write, then i forget them by the time i get to some paper and pens... o well i guess? some things are meant to stay in my head anyways.

Hullo June.

Well, June has come, and boy does she look beautiful. Shes smiling cause school's almost out, and shes wearing a bikini, because thats what all beautiful girls should wear. Junes planning to go biking with me a lot, she'll be there at the senior's graduation, and... and... o hell, June is the hottest month of them all and im loving it so far. I just can't wait to spend lazy afternoons watching MTV with June. I'll go out on dates with hot chicks, sure June, you can come along too! I'll play basketball at the park, bike on some new trails, take some pictures. Oh yeh, and I'm gonna find out who that chick that I always see is! Just if you dont know, there's this chick I've been seeing, at the park and at work. I call her runner chick, cause she runs a lot. Not from me of course.... Stop laughing June. Anyways, if your looking for anything to do this June, hit me up, all three of us, or more can go kick it!

Oh yeh, before i forget........... HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESSE, in case i dont write tomorrow.

Sunday, May 30, 2004

Sun, 30 May 2004 01:28:57 GMT

My day, as it happened... or as I remember it happening.

1. woke up to sound of parents moving around house.
2. dad walks into my room with loud ass flip flops, asks me in a voice much too loud for the morning if i want to eat lunch with them.
3. i think... what? lunch?? i just woke up...
4. hide head under pillow and grumble no.
5. wake up some time later.
6. noticed that my mouth smelled and tasted like shit.
7. got up and went to bathroom.
8. went pee while my morning boner went down.
9. rinsed my mouth and brushed my teeth.
10. looked at hair. it was tilted to the side.
11. took shower.
12. while in the shower, i said to myself, my mouth feels fresh.
13. got out of shower and put on underpants and shirt.
14. went downstairs to make noodles and bacon.
15. laughed at my cat.
16. went upstairs to turn on computer.
17. went downstairs to eat "breakfast".
18. forgot that i turned on computer.
19. channel surfed for 30 minutes.
20. went upstairs to put on pants.
21. went online.
22. begged people online to go out with me.
23. failed to find someone to go out with.
24. watched chinese movies.
25. was pissed off.
26. went to park.
27. played basketball.
28. the black guy won. what'd you expect?
29. went back home.
30. got in car to go with parents to dinner.
31. got pissed at parents for criticizing my driving.
32. ate dinner at chinese resturaunt in Lafayette.
33. the resturaunt was obviously not meant for chinese people.
34. went back home.
35. went online.
36. was pissed off.
37. wrote in xanga.

there.