yours falsely

My last post is all over the place, I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote that (obviously 100 things at once).

No use crying.

resescitate

These past couple of days haven't been too bad. I've been exercising, eating good food (tasting, not health wise), spending quality time with a very select few, and keeping my self artistically satisfied. I came up with the idea of writing a death note and keeping it in my wallet, just in case my time to inevitably go pick daisys sneaks up on me. I suppose it will be my last "goodbye" to everyone who thought they didn't say goodbye to me. I suppose in theory it's a sad concept, but I think it's a good idea. I think my time on social networking sites is coming to an end. If it does come to an end, I will keep this around just so people know what I'm up to (who cares?).
I think I will go take some pictures tomorrow, I've been wanting to lately, I just don't have the means (car) to. Which reminds me, fuck driving. I have the worst luck with cars. This past weekend has left a very bitter taste in my mouth. Running out of gas, on the way to the gas station having the car over heat, waiting until 4 in the morning for my car to cool down. Granted I had good company with me for those dreadful hours, but it was a lot of stress and it was something I've dealt with far too many times. Hey cars, fuck you. Fuck paying for your gas. Fuck your keep ups. Fuck you. I need you though. Orange County is a complete shithole with out a car, you need one (to get out of this shithole). Maybe I should get a motorcycle, then my death note will probably be seeing the light of day a little sooner than I'd imagine.

you will suffer

I'm ok now, I think.


You can even make a piece of trash worth it, it just depends on who's poor enough to try to fix it.

teen angst has followed me into my 20s

The title says it all.

When I was a teenager (13-15) I was the complete opposite of what I am now. The "solid" core group of friends that one would have loved to have when they were younger and in those prime social ladder climbing years. Something changed, sophomore year I was at school about 40 percent that whole year. I was notorious for not being in class, my teachers were wise to what I was up to and they knew I had bigger things planned (sitting on my friends couches, playing guitar, watching stupid movies, band practice). Fast forward to Junior year, I found my self at a continuation school, with none of my friends (some how they went on to become seniors and didn't really have to worry about anything), in a whole new surrounding with a bunch of people who didn't know who I was. I was the third of my family to go to Serra, it was notorious for letting kids smoke on campus, fights at least once a week, gang members, pregnant teens, and things of the like. I'm not trying to make this place sound bad at all, I grew up in the kind of lower class areas of San Juan, none of this was new to me, but in a high school setting? It was completely foreign. There I was, I didn't even have a cell phone then, nothing to keep me occupied except my note book with Morrissey lyrics written on it. I was always that nerdy kid that came to class early and just sat there. I was the only straightedge kid, the only kid who was vegan, the only kid who listened to hardcore, that had any idea of some kind of "sub culture"...I was alone. Over time I made some friends, some came and some went, some went on binges, some went to jail, some committed suicide, some had their kids...the place was a revolving door of fuck ups and I wasn't ashamed to be in it. I lost touch with a lot of my friends back at the old high school. I felt like I had nothing in common with them and for the most part it was true, that isn't a slide against them...I was just doing my own thing. I got my first real girl friend that year. She was on the complete opposite side of the spectrum as me, and that was my first mistake. She used drugs, she didn't know what hardcore was, she was vegetarian though. In retrospect I think I liked her a lot because in my time of being alone after having had friends, I needed someone that was there for me. I'd like to say my family was there, but they weren't, they won't always be and I understand that. So we dated, she broke my heart, you know the story. Then began the toxic relationship that went on for about a year. I look back at those times now and I laugh, when all I could do then is cry and want to die. I was truly alone, heart broken, and I didn't even know what to do anymore. Like I said though, I've gone through worse things since then, and I laugh at that now. I found a lot of good music in that time in my life, I lost a lot of weight, I started to get into my pattern of being reclusive for long periods of time. I wrote a lot of music and I wrote a lot. I go back to those writings even now and I cringe at how bad I was feeling, probably just like I will to this. I don't hate her for it, I was always the kind of person that got over friendships fast and found other things to occupy my time. Now I see her in passing and don't acknowledge her, due to my spiteful nature, I hope it stings a little. We don't care about each other anymore and I'm kind of glad, cause both of us are train wrecks now.

I learned a big life lesson my junior year, never rely on anybody.

rewind

today I had one of those "episodes". wake up, look in the mirror, hate what you see, move on with your day...or do you? your day drags on like paint dripping down a wall. it hasn't been like this in a while. you tell your self it's just an off day (but you know the feeling all to well) and it'll pass. look at the clock thinking half an hour passed by, no it's only been 5 minutes and you still feel the same. hopeless, depressed, anxious. maybe changing your medication routine wasn't such a good idea after all. your body needs to adapt to the sudden change and over time (which still seems to be going by slower and slower) the feeling of numbness will take over again. it's gotten worse since the last time i felt this way. i remember all too well that feeling of discomfort, not wanting to be around people, but not wanting to be with your self. it's a movie with the same train wreck of an ending being rewound over and over. then it hits you, you're now dependent on medication, something to sedate you, something to control you and now the stress builds on top of the weight holding you face down in that water. a year ago i was sitting at home in a closet writing the same thing i'm writing right now except with the help of meds. i'm not sure if it's worse now or if it was worse then. you can try to talk to me and i can pretend to listen, but i simply do not care. nothing going on inside of my head except the constant thought of trying to catch up with my self. complete apathy is the theme of the day. you don't care what you say, what they say, where you are, how you are, give in and give up. nothing matters anymore, life has no meaning for the day and you're as good as dead. you're no longer a functioning member of society (you never were) and if you looked in the mirror one more time you just might get the urge to vomit. it's ok though, "it'll pass" and tomorrow will be another day. i wish i had a dollar for every time i heard that one. your friends, your family, your loved ones, they don't matter today, you don't matter and you want the world to know.
maybe changing your medication routine wasn't such a good idea.

5:40 and counting.

It's been 3 weeks since my parents left to Mexico on their annual vacation. Each year in mid January they leave to the nice little state of Puerto Vallarta. Here it is tourist galore, rich Americans coming to spend their precious money on one of Mexicos "americanized" cities. Now, before you jump to any conclusions, my parents aren't rich, I'm sitting in their house that has holes in the roof, 2 bedrooms, 1 bath room, 5 people living here (one of them being me on their couch). My dad is from a little ranch right outside of the big tourist attractions; here you can find some of the best handmade tortillas you can ever have the chance of eating. Dirt roads, brick, adobe, and wood houses line these make shift roads. I remember when I was 11 when we drove into the ranch everyone knew who we were...we were the Mexican kids born in America, they all waved at us...I felt like I mattered then. I haven't been there since then and they still ask about me. Regardless, this is off the point by 1000 words...so I'll stop right there.

I've been sitting at my parents house for 3 weeks straight cherishing my time alone, reading, writing, playing guitar, watching family guy every night before I fall asleep, and on the rare occasion stay out as late as I want (I don't have a curfew, I just want to respect my parents and not be slamming and opening doors in the middle of the night). I find my self with a familiar feeling, somewhat nostalgic about how I used to feel when I was a little bit younger, just being alone in a room and listening to music or simply staring at a wall. Loneliness is like meditation to me, I don't want to talk, I just want to think, I don't want to be around anyone, I just want to get inside my head; these are the kind of things a chemically imbalanced person wants (needs). I've spent a lot of time alone with my self since I was younger, even when I wasn't alone I was always inside my head. You can talk to me and I can carry a conversation with you but what you say will mean nothing the second it leaves your lips, because I'm inside my head. The leaving of the present time started when I was younger, I was always scolded for something; fighting with my brother, making a mess, you name it I did it. Eventually the need to just get away from all the "Talks" while I was being scolded was to think of something else, not at the yelling going on right in front of my face. Fast forward 12 years and I can't even control it. This kind of thing pisses people off and it pisses me off that is pisses them off. It's a lose lose situation. Writing when I'm in my head produces some weird results, this isn't one of them, but my other blog hosts those thoughts.
I've been teetering on being a social or wanting to stay in and cherish my time alone, the end results never really leave me satisfied. I suppose I'll have to live with those choices, maybe sleeping would suffice, but what a waste of time.

I've suddenly lost the urge to write anymore...I'm rambling anyway.

I suppose that's an update.