Tasty Curry

We made some tikka masala a little while ago, my sister had brought some spices back from London. We bought the necessary ingredients, went to the local Indian grocery store, and it turned out pretty well.

RIP Felicidad Leviste

44

My biggest worry is that you don’t believe me. I guess with my track record, and the mistakes I’ve made, it’s probably smarter not to believe me. But if I can’t quantify change and trust with words, and my actions, from a bird’s eye view, seem inconsiderate and rude, I have no excuse. Just know, that it’s not at all what you are probably thinking, and there are several times I think of calling you to explain it all. But it’s nothing you haven’t heard before… and in this game of space, phone calls are prohibited.

This kind of train wreck has no winner, and there isn’t anyone celebrating. I’ll never forget every little detail about you, and the amazing things you have done for me.  But no matter how often I fantasize of having you in my life as someone greater than just a memory, I know the probability is too slim to give any kind of hope for a friendship.

Crushed Veneer

I can only hope that the choices I make are the right ones. I’m not too sure.

Contradiction?

Painful realizations come when looking at life logically. Performing under complete emotional influence is the way to blissful, often irresponsible choices and results. I’m an escape artist, a renowned justifier of everything I do, an escapist at times, a giver of advice I can’t always follow. These are a few of my faults, and not nearly all of them. At the same time, I understand these faults make me who I am, and there is no such thing as failures, but learning experiences. However, how much do we need to learn in order to feel fulfilled and wise enough to change those aspects of our life that bring us problems?

Why is it that epiphanies, massive realizations, and actual change only materializes after traumatic, or life-changing experiences? Why is it that so many of us feel like we don’t have the power to do anything until we hit the very bottom of the well? Maybe it’s that strength and motivation only comes under imposed and understood time-limits, urgency strikes hot when there is a reason to be urgent, but these time limits seem invisible when you’re twenty something, and the distractions are plentiful and penetrating.

I tend to have my preferred source of distraction, which is relishing in the tiny dynamics of every day life, keeping everything heavy to feel anchored and humorous, to see all the angles but never playing any of them. If the past has served any record, I have searched for validation in all the wrong places. I tell myself not to complain, but I justify by saying I’m not complaining, but observing, and understanding… but the lines are blurred when you want to reach out with words on an online publication about your life.

You want to spit? You want to have intellectual intercourse? We can talk about the paradox of media saturated expectations from all those romantic books and movies you’ve watched. We can talk about where approach anxiety comes with strangers, and the amplification of emotional fear when talking to someone new of the opposite sex. We can talk about the stages of attraction and the problems that most people never overcome. What about love? Love versus neediness, and how in our society, we’ve seemed to reach the ever elusive conclusion that maybe neediness is the same thing as love, and how it’s a recipe for disaster. Change versus replacement, and vice versa. How about authentic decisions? How can we be authentic at all when we are completely hit over the head with social proof and culture. Faking it until we make it. Make it so we don’t have to make it.

There’s a cycle here, and it’s exhausting. There’s a cycle here and it’s stifling.

…..

…..

“It’s a luscious mix of words and tricks that let us bet, when you know we should fold.”

Advice

Advice is pointless. Well not pointless, but unnecessary. The fact is, we always know what we should do in ever situation we are in. Every “dilemma” that is seemingly troublesome isn’t even a dilemma at all. Because in the back of our heads, we have a very clear picture of what we want and what actions to take. At that point, any advice any of your friends or people give you just serve as entertaining points of views. So why do we avoid the nagging persistence of logic? We do we ignore our own advice?

Because we’re scared. Obviously.

The First Of Many.

When you walk on this particular sidewalk, you’re looking straight ahead. When you were younger, you used to look at your feet, and while you were growing, you stared half-way into the sky with your chin up. But now, today, you’re walking with your eyes parallel to the horizon. As you’re walking on this sidewalk, you try hard to avoid stepping on cracks, the lines between individual blocks of concrete. You do this in a semi-natural way, barely adjusting your pace. There are other people walking too, some in opposite directions, some faster than you, and some much slower. When it gets hot, you take off your coat, and when it’s cold you put it on. You’re thankful for being able to just walk. As other’s get into cabs and cars, they are missing out on feeling the hard floor beneath them, missing out on the store fronts and facial expressions of other pedestrians. They are missing the feeling of cold air and hot wind. You, on the other hand, are looking forward, earning your destination, step by step.

When you’re feet begin to ache, you feel like giving up. The sunlight blinds you, and you’re squinting with weathered knees, and you look for a place to sit. Today, there is no where to sit. You decide against sitting because you are lost and do not know exactly where you are. But this street, this path, it feels familiar, like you have dreamed about it before. A dream that allows you to almost predict the next turn and curve of the road. So you keep walking, strong, hard, and you close your eyes now, and feel the sensation in your finger tips. You hear the sounds of birds, and wind, and man-made sounds the project from objects beyond your perimeter. The destination is so close, the beautiful fields and beautiful faces are so close.

When you finally get there, you realize the satisfaction is fleeting. Soon, the flowers and amazing buildings become repetitive and normal. The beautiful people are actually normal people, with their own fears and problems. No one is invincible, nothing is perfect. After the time wears the alluring qualities of the final destination, it no longer is final. You look for the next sidewalk, and that’s where it hits you.

We make the mistake of thinking that life is going to be completely settled and perfect one day. But it’s never perfect, and there is no destination. We are constantly walking, squinting, getting tired, and looking for a place to sit. Sometimes we will drive there, but normally we are walking. There is nothing you can do about this. And when you realize that, when you really understand it, and hold the epiphany in your hand, the overwhelming clarity that is gained is priceless and makes you feel like you have both an intense urgency to stretch your days, and all the time in the world. Maybe there is only one instance of time. And maybe that is now.

As for me, I’ll keep walking, and Ill look forward to getting tired and will embrace the aches that take over my body after mile-long stretches.

I don’t want a straw.

“

Hey. Could we do that again? I know we haven’t met, but I don’t want to be an ant. You know? I mean, it’s like we go through life with our antennas bouncing off one another, continously on ant autopilot, with nothing really human required of us. Stop. Go. Walk here. Drive there. All action basically for survival. All communication simply to keep this ant colony buzzing along in an efficient, polite manner. “Here’s your change.” “Paper or plastic?’ “Credit or debit?” “You want ketchup with that?” I don’t want a straw. I want real human moments. I want to see you. I want you to see me. I don’t want to give that up. I don’t want to be ant, you know?

“

Watch this.

Comparing Apples and Baby Wolverines

I fell asleep, devastated, to the image of an older man fondling my ex-girlfriend. I talk to her and console her about her problems while she’s driving to this man’s house. I am a fool. Hours earlier, an old, former good friend of mine texted me to see how I was doing. I didn’t respond to her, but instead, felt waves of rage soar through my nerves, shooting an electric impulse through my body, I silently mouthed the words to myself, “I fucking hate you.” I’ve wanted reduce you to a bitch, and prove to you that you are nothing to me, and nothing to anyone. I knew I could create word formations to hit the center her heart, sending a chain reaction to her tear glands. I’ve wanted to take sweet revenge on you, and blame you for a handful of problems, cut you off like a cancerous tumor, but on New Years, the only words that came out towards you from my mouth were “It’s okay. Everyone makes mistakes.” I’m starting to question the benefits of being passive with others.

On my walk to work, I see a man working the gate to the stadium every day, by himself. He spends eight hour days in a booth directing cars, he’s always cheerful, he sings soul classics, and when I walk by he waves at me and asks how I am doing. The wrinkles on his skin reflect the sun, and his shades are like mirrors, I see my head project off both lenses– there are two of me when I walk by him. There are two of me all the time.

I spent the weekend in Santa Cruz. The songs I heard were signs of determination and love. My friend Alex is a great song writer. One of his songs makes me feel weird inside, a combination of great and terrible. As the words escape from his mouth, “…No matter how hard we try” I feel sorry for myself. I feel sorry for everyone. The warmest people often don’t get the payoff they deserve, and unfortunately your compassion and passion is rarely enough to make it. We are trying so hard, and we laugh together, but we cry alone. But it makes me feel great too. Because a person like that reminds you that we’re alone together.