The kids are alright

I find I always compare everything to wings or the ocean. Today I got to Redondo and I had nothing to say. Everything, in a way, was just like how I explain everything else. We pulled up, and of course the beach had a weak pulse today seeing as it's Sunday and nothing is ever open beachside on Sunday. Despite that, there seemed to be a few drops of life (actually, a vigorous amount of life) swarming the confusing walkways. After realizing it was Sunday by about the fifth store with the door smack shut in our faces, we decided to see what we could find. Trust me, there's a lot out there--food, clothing or not.

But dammit, I can barely remember where we first stopped. I'm thinking it was that one peaceful store with all the relics, incense, sea shells and books. I think that's right. There's just so much to remember. Anyway, we moved on from there, and I'll tell you--that place was surreal to a pleasurable extent. So we hit place after place, each time deciding $100+ was too much for pretty much anything. I didn't quite get to any real thinking until we crossed the street for about the 10th time. There was a man. An unkempt haphazard kind of man, scratching and pulling on his clothes. He sat like a lily. Yes, a lily. And I know everyone thinks the crown jewel, the craning flower out here is the beach. Perhaps that is true. What is more serene than the ocean? Or the night? Or both at once? But taking time to examine its people is never a beautiful thing. After hearing the tired dragging of the tongue with every "oh my God" and "I'm trying on this, but it's like..." or "and like he said" and "and like she said" and "ugh" and "yeaahhh..." one tends to feel as though their spine is out of place. The ocean practically glimmers with life, yet the wayside beach mongers and rich snob trash are nothing but a shade of gray and a damper on the salt and waves. Back to this man, he didn't say anything. Nothing at all. Maybe it's because no one cared to look at him. Maybe it was because he didn't need to say a thing. Maybe it's because he couldn't say a thing. Yet even still, I will always wonder, no matter how simple it seems, how he's stuck so vividly to my thoughts.

Two blocks down, there was another man. He was the talker. He talked a lot. In fact, he talked so much that he even talked when no one was around. Ironically he sat in front of an army-like jeep making it look like he'd gotten off the ride to hell that was Vietnam (he was certainly too weathered to be coming from Iraq. Then again, war weathers a man, and for all I know, he could've been but 30 years old). Anyway, I wanted to catch what he was saying. Dammit, it could've been brilliant, but I couldn't understand. That brings me to my novel idea--perhaps when I explain, I understand because it's my own state of mind. But perhaps what I'm explaining is really all wrong, only we don't even know it. After all, it seems every time something is explained, something new comes or is seen that makes us rexamine everything.

I did find a nice place called Harmony Works and bought myself a new CD that's proved quite nice on me. Angelique Kidjo--what a woman I've grown so fond of. And of course there's my purple tank top I'm kind of proud of. Yet the tangible seems to mean so much less than the intangible.

Today I realized how the simplest of things can fix the grandest of problems. Part of the reason I rushed out was to avoid the scrapping sound of my fingernails against my skull should an unwanted visitor come. I would say whom, but I choose not to. I like being in this state of not even remembering the dreary nature that sometimes is of life and dreams. Time is the enemy, the battle, the blood, the triumph and the beauty. Today I learned how beautiful life is, but not in the way you'd imagine it to mean.

"Put on all your beads and your beautiful jewels,"

says the groom to his new bride.
But, his first love tells her,

"your smile today could turn into tears tomorrow."

Beauty is not everything, you know

(Angelique Kidjo; "Sedjedo")

How can we let the sky tumble down?

You better keep a good eye out.



Time for another breakdown and I'm not even going to bring up the one I had on Thursday (3/27/08). Just know there was a lot of bizarre and deft movements ultimately resulting in what felt like destroying a paper doll. I never realized how fragile I was. I always sort of had the fear that my body could very well betray me despite the fact that its served me well aside from the fact that I was small. How strange that when it gave in, I was the only one who had a hand in it. I betrayed myself.



Onward sweep.



Friday (3/28/08): Haha, yes. Yes. That was one Friday that will go down in the books for anyone who witnessed it. As for me, I'm not sure if you can say I witnessed it. Granted, I remember it almost vividly except for a few mild-mannered things that probably no one else in the waking day would remember anyway. I don't care to go into it. All I know is that something in this night sparked something I never expected. I'm suddenly appreciated and regarded as a thing of beauty. I suppose, however, that I have many forms. People happen to fall in love with my open (and open-ended) side that comes at the most awkward of times. It's the form I assume is most like a goddess--it's one that is open to the people, instead of just doing things passionately by almost sleight of hand. In this state, I speak and laugh and break through somehow. But it's a form I keep quiet because of all the atrocities in the waking life. The only thing about it that I can't quell is my sensitivty and compassion for other humans. Even still, no matter what I was that night, I just can't understand it. As much as I want to, I don't see what caused this uprise in desire for me.

Saturday (3/29/08): Happy birthday to Cristian. I woke up at Berenice's house, a little bit ailing from being the goddess the night before (and sleeping on the floor). It was, surprisingly, one of the more quieter mornings of my life. It felt as if what I had was real. All that remained was an empty room and four friends reminicing, laughing, hurting and sharing. It wasn't at all like a movie, and yet it was because while everything seemed real--the feat seemed impossible. It was then I got to know earthly Nancy. The night before, she slipped passed me as the night grew old. We ended up at Norm's on Hawthorne Boulevard, possibly the worst street in existance with each business location at a more random spot than the next. Hawthorne is like a desert. It may seem fitting since supposedly California is a desert, but this is Southern California. This is the end all be all. At least give Hawthorne some dignity. Despite its quiet near-beauty, it's a rat's nest for traffic. But no matter, it still got us where we needed to be. After that, that was the end of my weekend with the few of them. On to Jannette's party later that day.
That started with Lazy Dog Cafe, which translates to great restaurant with the most anal customers ever, which is beyond me since that place is louder than reason. But of course when we clapped for Jannette's birthday consolation dessert, despite the fact that we couldn't even hear ourselves sing, some arrogant bastards probably in their 20's (not much older than us, yet they must've felt themselves of royalty. Or as though their putird excretions do not smell) felt it appropriate to "tell us off" with a rude snot-nosed "exucse me." Well, they certainly were excused. Let's move on. There was another real moment at Jannette's house where all of us, now made 13 by Jannette's unexplained house guests, were talking and trying to fit on two couches and a coffee table. Sooner than we knew it, which is common for us, we were midnight bowling. Even as the hours took a toll on us, it went by so fast all I really remember was bowling poorly as usual and dancing to classic rock. What a time it was.

Flash forward.

Perhaps the entire week that came after was notable, but all that really came of it was more musings from the bottom of my mind. Although I did have a nice time with my family on my dad's birthday and although my best cousin and I saw each other for the first time in months yesterday, I feel the need to hush. If I wanted to say anything more, it would be on politics, but considering my worry for my ever-weakening aunt, I will say nothing more than what needs to be until tomorrow.
That being, if one takes the time to do things opposite their nature, or buried within their nature, it will seem as though the world is not around them at all. And if one stares into the sky, especially at night, it will seem as though they don't exist and yet they're exactly where they need to be. And if one takes the time to read or look into their own surrounding life, they will see what exactly needs to be said and what needs to be done. And if one takes it a step further, they can come to terms with their humanity and recognize what is beyond their power and how much faith and effort they need to possibly make a move on it. And if one knows where they stand, they can stave off the unexpected failure and see exactly how they move through life. And if one sees how the world around them moves through them, they can accept the terms they've come to and appreciate what their hands can do and even what they cannot. We're all human and we need to see it. Not everything can come of our hands, but knowing can sometimes be enough. With knowledge there is respect and a sense of freedom. And by keeping faith and moving toward anything, no matter how unattainable, we can at least have something worth craving all to ourselves. Unfortunate as it is, we're all not getting anywhere near it at all. We're futile beings.




Look alive.

Dead kings, many things I can't define

Religion...a composition of dead people and somewhat sensible ideals (sometimes) that we've grown to adore.
No, I'm not anti-religion. Bear with me here.

The thing I don't get is why people even bother fighting about it. While people may argue what I'm about to say is instigating a fight, I beg to differ. In fact, I'm preaching peace. I take responsibility if someone wants to start something. After all, I did open my big mouth. But I will not play a role in the degradation of someone else's belief system. I can only hope people will listen, think about it, and move on in any way they so choose. I'd prefer this to change someone's outlook, but I can't very well expect that.

Anyway, I begin by saying, why has religion suddenly been cluttered into two or three categories? All of a sudden religion has narrowed down to Christianity, Catholicism, and sometimes Judaism. Truth be told, everyone has a religion, whether it consists of a "God" or not. With that being said, there are two division of the argument I wish to address:

1. You religious freaks sicken me. I'm talking literally sickening me. I once saw a religious website so vile with propaganda, I threw up just a bit. It's dizzying to see all this hate speech on a site that's supposed to promote "the good fight." How the fuck do you figure that? Supposedly these sites and displays are meant to get people on the right path, but how can you win people over by tearing them apart? They're human beings just like you. Thou shall not judge, right? Or am I crazy? Lead by example if you want to make any sort of difference. Yelling and damning everything when it's not even your fuckin right is downright weird and absurd. You curse what you find "obscene," yet somehow you're free to obscenely promote your nearly fictitious cause with propaganda and hate--it doesn't add up. Trust me, it doesn't. Nobody fuckin cares if you think their religion is right or wrong. In fact, if you try to tell us we're wrong, you're just pissing us all off. Maybe it's just me, but I think that's a step backward. Also, stop with the paranoia. We have enough idiotic paranoia coming from the stupid fuck KKK as it is. No one wants to destroy Christianity. In fact, you fucks have beaten your "morals" to a pulp so much that we pretty much don't give a fuck about Christianity anymore. One more thing, and this has stopped every fanatical Christian (and other fanatics of other religions) that has ever crossed me: we (Catholics) were here first. And you know what else? I don't even care if we were here first. That's right, I don't care about your bizarre means of "religion." To each their own and leave everyone else out of it. Oh, and I'm sorry if we can't make laws based off your crap. We have an idea called "division of church and state," now back off.

2. Atheists. Oh, Atheists...shut the fuck up. You're just as paranoid as the fanatics. Stop bitching about how no one understands you. You still have mothers, right? If not, well, you understand yourself, right? That's good enough! It's all you fuckin need! I know there are weirdos out there trying to shove religion down your throat, but stop acting like you're always attacked for your beliefs. You're not. I highly doubt that everywhere you go there's some religion humper that sniffs you out and goes "Die, fucker!!" Unless you where a goddamn sign stating you're an atheist. Even then, as with people whose religions consist of a God, most people don't care. Stop calling religion shit, too, by the way. It's not shit, it's just the difference between you and some. Embrace your differences if you love yourself so fuckin much! And if you don't love yourself...then, I'm sorry. Maybe that's why you're so fuckin angry. Besides, if you want people to stop preaching to you, stop breaking them down. Religion gives some people hope. And hope is something you should never take from someone. It could be all that they have. Be nice. Honestly, we're not all the same. I'm Catholic, and though I mention it, really, as long as people are happy with the religions they choose, I'm happy for them! Diversity makes us great. You're not in kindergarten anyway. You don't have to push Little Jimmy just because he pushed you first. Move the fuck on and stop riding on religion's ass. People are free to have other beliefs than you...isn't that the whole basis of your own damn argument anyway? Dammit.

Moving on from the notorious complainers, while you finish off your Easter, remember that there are other religions out there. There are some you've probably never heard of before. There are still tribal peoples who practice their own faith. Don't be myopic and see religion as only having a few faces of which seem to be taking over the world. Religion is interesting, whether you believe in it or not. Have a heart and let people practice freely. You've got to admit, some religions have very good ideals to live by. Practice them. If not the faith, practice the values. Again, don't forget the billions of other people in the world practicing their own means of religion. Hopefully then you can see that it's just human nature, even though it's in some people's nature to be scum.

My final note:
I managed to see Aalyssa today and it gives me great relief. I only wonder now what Anthony is up to. Every time he leaves, my time perception goes out of sync. I really have no idea how many days it's been since he left. It feels like he's been gone for weeks. Everything seems to be rising and falling, being mixed and rearranged and being pulled in every which direction time chooses at the moment. I don't know what I understand or perceive, and I can barely believe what's going on before me. Somehow, though, being left in the dark has instilled some extra creativity in me. I don't know what to say about that.
What time is it, anyway?
I probably wouldn't believe you if you told me.

I can see for miles and miles

I think I know what they meant by having magic in their eyes.
Well, it was partly drugs (but that doesn't come into play here) and partly mysticism--the kind you get when you feel the world is in your hands. It's when you know you can obtain anything you could want in an immediate sense. Maybe not all your dreams in one, but mostly anything you could want for the time being.

I reek of incense from going to The Psychic Eye. I hung out with an old friend from elementary school for the first time in ages. I tried to pretend I wasn't thinking of other people, but my love and the third man kept randomly passing through my thoughts. I worry about Anthony...and as for the third man, sometimes I still find myself wishing, even if it's not something I really want exactly.

I reconnected with myself today. Just being in that store made me think of all the possibilites that come from the world around us. I'm basically in a trance right now. I just keep seeing the things that were there and thinking on things greater than me. There's so much beauty, depth and meaning out there...and to think, we'll never live long enough to see and understand it all. It's bizarre.

I'm tempted to buy some tarot cards and rearrange everything I have to reflect on these ideas. I'm not going wacko religious junkie on anybody...I still want to be me, Catholicism (yes, I'm Catholic. Shut the fuck up.) and all. Speaking of which, tomorrow is Easter and I won't see my best friend in the universe because...well, I don't know why. My cousin means the world to me, and I got a slight chance to see her today--but her parents denied us of it. Ha, how depressing. You know, I've noticed, everything seems wrong with the world. I guess it's up to ourselves to keep our worlds straight. To be honest, at this point my life isn't so bad, I just think I'm completely scrambled.

You know, probably nothing I've said here makes any sense.
But in some way it means a lot to me.
I can't even fathom what goes on in my own head.
And somehow, I don't think that's important.

As long as I can see beyond my own input, maybe...well, I'm not entirely sure.

I'm too physically drained to be sure. All I know is where my heart is and where my creativity is taking me. Maybe I can close my eyes and see further. It's a contradiction to top all contradictions, but sometimes the unconscious is a better indicator than the waking world and conscious thought.
And maybe when I sleep, I can visit him for a moment. Bastardo.
Bastardo, bastardo, bastardo....

My eyelids are heavy.

Put on your red shoes and dance the blues

Running.
Everyone is running.
We're all scattered.

It didn't quite hit home when my ex, of which I realized I haven't yet put his name down (it's Anthony, by the way), left for Ohio on Thursday. His mom has become one of the nomads precariously slipping off the edge and wandering about for work to stay alive. Who knows how long they're going to be gone. They said it was just a few weeks, but webs can be spun in all but a day or two. They could end up stuck.
It's not that I didn't care and I just watched him leave without a feeling in my veins. I cried. I really did.
Even when I found out they were coming back "soon," I cried. Bastardo....
I guess I was just feeling numb.

And maybe, just maybe, I took the liberty of doing everything I have done today just to cope with it. I got up right when the alarm went off, put on my new shoes, new blouse, new pants, my favorite necklace and some of my best earrings. I looked so good (I assume) that the first thing I heard as I tried to get in the car was honking and hollering from a man that looked like someone from ZZ-Top speeding down my street. I went to class listening to London After Midnight and feeling really awesome. So awesome, in fact, that chills went down my spine. I stayed in the newsroom longer than I had to just because I felt like staying in there and looking upon the staff. I left with some more London After Midnight echoing. I got home, helped my friend retaliate against her overbearing step-father and made the guy's daughter cry because she was a huge bitch to Aalyssa. I felt even better and tried calling up Andy, but I couldn't get a hold of him. So I dropped Frances a line and we took off to the mall, ate and shopped. I even got a call from my best friend from elementary school earlier.
And now, I just might go to a party with Suzy, Crisitan and Matt at 11. And while I'm at it, I just may sit with the guru. He's a good man. A great man. Believe me, he and I can see many tomorrows together.

All the while, I keep thinking of Anthony. As Vanessa and I discussed earlier when she called, it seems so wrong of us to think of our exes. But we do, and we're just funny people for it. And now that I look at all I've done today...I've just been running. Maybe I hoped that freedom wasn't too far off.

On a different note, let me speak on the Obama issue.
First thing, just because he's friends with a racist shitbag doesn't mean he's a racist shitbag. Okay? Got it? Good.
Oh, why not, you say? Because I can be friends with someone who's adamantly hates black people, for instance. As long as he doesn't talk about it around me, I can force myself to overlook it...and also because there could be a possibility that I didn't know the person was racist until later in our friendship. In turn, after the person and I had gone through a lot, I wouldn't be able to just dump them. There's too much friendship there. And just because he used his grandmother as an example doesn't mean he's so tightly knit to that guy that it's almost a family level. Seriously, that's the most ridiculous fuckin unwarranted assumption I've ever heard. Get a grip. Goddamn.

On the flip side, everyone bitching about Fox News and how everyone is acting like they hate Obama, you know what? They hate Hillary and McCain, too. Every last one of them. Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration, but my point is that there are always going to be people who hate whoever or whatever it is you like. There are going to be people who take it too far and there are going to be people who say/do supremely idiotic things. That doesn't mean, however, that you should go around acting like you've hammered your brains out with an actual fuckin hammer. You people need to get a grip, too. You say: "Oh, they edited out the most important part of his speech out, those fuckers!" but in turn, you go around quoting people and making videos editing out important parts of their commentary. Sounds like a double standard and it smells like shit. Don't do it. You're making us Democrats look like whiners, which is exactly how the stereotype goes. Stereotypes = bad.

Really, both sides need to stop dicking around. It's stupid.