Monday, December 12

Being Travis Tran

I, Travis Tran, am afraid and uninspired to write. Fear comes from the ability of any blog to alter my future. On the contrary, maybe it’s just the opposite with the realization of my writing’s ineffectiveness. Seems as if my organs are not my own anymore. Lack of inspiration comes from newly found indifference.

I was asked to blog, and I really couldn't settle with a topic. In my attempt to be as uninteresting as I can possibly be, I've decided to bullspit. I was originally going to write about movies I've watch or that have impacted me, but I want to lose followers with this one. lol. Here are 25 question and 25 statements unfiltered. You are now entering the mind of John Malkovich, just kidding. Being Travis Tran means:

Statements

1. I miss you.
2. I wonder what's so interesting about my writing that you're always reading it, honestly.
3. I’m always sleep deprived, makes the time more difficult to keep track of, especially when it comes to chronology.
4. Sometimes I feel like a chronic depressive, loosely stated.
5. If majority people saw my true self, they’d be scared, but somehow you’re intrigued.
6. I am not lying when I say sometimes I take shots, like a low-life, at certain individuals when I write. Forgive me.
7. When I go to my parents’ house late on Sundays, I wonder if my mother knows I didn’t go church yet.
8. One day, I have a feeling that I will be super religious, and walk around looking like some repented hypocrite.
9. I’m not afraid to die and have no one missing me.
10. One day, I will no longer interest you and I will be heartbroken.
11. I believe lives are movies, except no one is giving out Oscars because it’s not a competition.
12. Fcuk it, art for art sake and only for art sake.
13. I wonder what makes you think we don’t breathe the same air. You’re not better than any of us, so get over yourself dickface.
14. I might talk that shit, but I do wish you well.
15. I’ve learned that life becomes easier after a certain age because you’re no longer trying to one-over the next person, and your own life is of utmost importance.
16. Sometimes I wish well for my enemies more than my friends, maybe that’s why I feel like I’ll be religious one day.
17. Religion is important to my mother, therefore it is very vital to me.
18. I’ve got to finish my spoken word “Tears of My Mother” to send to Tap.
19. The trip this weekend will be a pivotal step for me.
20. Fcuk it I’m going to quit everything one day and just pursue acting for awhile.
21. Although I have a credible “job,” I haven’t decided my career yet because acting is all I can think about.
22. I may be considered very sociable, but have very little close friends because we’re all working on our own lives (movies).
23. One day, I’ll make drastic moves that will awe you because they come from my inner thoughts.
24. If and when I drink, then I suddenly attain a drinking problem.
25. I want to sign-up for boxing, a marathon, and ballet when the new year begins.

Questions
1. Why can’t people be humble with what they’ve got?
2. We’re always running back to each other, are we not?
3. Why can’t I remember moments like I used to?
4. Who am I aiming at when I type all of these you’s?
5. Don’t you just love it when I try to use proper grammar and huge vocabulary words and end up sounding like a jackass?
6. How long will it take me to fully forgive my father?
7. Is it desperate that I write to reach you?
8. Is it your insecurities that you have to post every aspect of you life on each and every social network available?
9. How many people would have a personality if it weren’t for the influence of what others are doing?
10. Where do all these emotions that come out of me come from?
11. Are you going to live up to your promise next year?
12. If you say that you’re miserable, why aren’t you leaving?
13. Am I a victim to a movie in the making?
14. Aren’t I supposed to be moving so, what’s up with that anyhow?
15. Is there anywhere to live besides New Orleans that I’ll somehow be content with?
16. Why am I afraid to leave everything behind, but say that I don’t care if I’m missed?
17. On a scale of 1-10, how bad is it that I keep certain things away from everyone?
18. Does anyone else know our secret?
19. Where are the sporadic moments when you need them?
20. Is it our common interests that interest me?
21. Do you know that I’ve let you go, more times than you know?
22. Did I make my 40 hours last week?
23. Do I honestly fear if all the pieces were put together and the truth were to arise?
24. Why does a part of me want to fight, leave, stay, love, abandon, sympathize, argue, and call you out all at the same time?
25. Why aren’t I writing my next novella instead?

Post Script: I hate when people quote someone else and don't use "quotation" marks, just to coin it off as their own original thought. GTF! =)

Sorry for the sucky blog. blah blah blaise.

Monday, November 7

defENDerr

What I like about writing? I think it's the simple fact that there's always something for someone to read. The response I get shows that nothing written goes wasted. It's suprising how people surprise you, not necessary with material, but with their interest. The aspect that I enjoy most is that some things that I write will only be understood by me, unless explained. I can go without the recognition. I never thought I'd blog, but here I am back at it. I've shut this site down quite a few times, hopefully without anyone knowing. Yes, I am aware of "some" of my grammatical error; I'm human so I err. When I have free-time, I try to test my memory and recall any or every significant moment of my life, loosely stated. It's an exercise to not forget my expedition, with or without company. Here's my next article in my Brave New Voices category:

I am your Defender

I am that swear, that promise, that explicit warning
eliciting interjections of misconstrued truths of you
Promising a “fcuk them” to the reluctant disbelievers

“I” am that vow, that pronoun, that pro-you
To protect your potential progress
Because if your heart opens and it is potent

I’m the park with the kites
The kid and her bike at 5
That horrible present picker who still acts like he’s 5

I’m that still water at the lake,
Sand on the bed, the restroom at the hotel
The night sky in July

I’m that late night convo
So late we had to order a breakfast combo
I’m that humor in a room without rumors or a room for just us

I’m that levity when gravity brings you down
That I’ll hold your crown
and let you know that it’s over now

I’m the spot on your mind, that eternal sunshine
That I know it’s late, but can you stay, just one time?
Just until sunrise?

I’m the belief in the surreal
The relief from the subpar
Succumbing to the sublime

I’m your best supporting actor to your Oscar nominations
The quirkiest of quotes amidst mixed emotions
Filling that missing feeling that you used to get from films

I am deliberate liberation
Escape from a world too mature and uncultured
The safe haven unaltered, not limited to iteration

Just for the record, I’m the vinyl to the phonograph, the collection
You’re the photograph that no one has, I’m collecting
The long playing moving pictures to the instilled recollections

I’m the secret, that secretion of sentiments to the surface
The unveiling of organs not played during orchestration
When hiding your heart regards its palpitations

I am all that is insecure, but I am and always will be your Defender


Writing can be a tool to fool others, but better yet to fool yourself.

"He used to say that artists use lies to tell the truth, while politicians use them to cover the truth up." - V for Vendetta

Monday, October 31

Today Versus Tomorrow

Personally, I'm still on a natural high from knocking a stipulation off of my bucket-list, the Half-Marathon. My apologizes if I'm babbling about it. Most people have teams and other sorts of aids in fulfilling, what they would call, personal feats. Much of my bucket-list requires independent ventures. Next is the marathon, maybe in March for my 23rd birthday. Sorry, I'm talking about myself way too much again. Waking up from a dream, I felt the need to post something. The dream, although unimportant, envisioned me attempting to get on solid ground (symbolic?). To make matters worse, someone fell upon me and I was on the edge slipping into an abyss. I woke up. -_- What did I get from this? Well, I'm so accustomed to worrying that even though nothing is wrong, I'm so used to it that I'll throw myself out of the frying pan into the fire. I seem to throw myself in and out of predicaments to see if I'll make it out alive. There's something about feeling on the edge. I sure did it this time, didn't I, Travis? Oh wells fargo. I used to want to get the most out of life, but now I just want to get life.

I started writing another piece yesterday. I got on the platform to depart with my train of thoughts. It was moving so fast that I just ran with it. Then, I hit a wall, lost all consciousness and reverted back to a time when I wrote this piece. Not a bad choice, but I couldn't, for the life of me, find my way back to the train station. I settled this time. You'll like the next one as much as this one. =P I'm pretty much positive that value isn't astronomical. You'll have to read the confusing sentences more than once for this one to fully appreciate. As always, Enjoy.

Today I’m laughing, today I’m smiling
Today I’m gasping, tomorrow I’m sighing
Today I’m helpful, tomorrow’s timid
Today I’m contextual, but I’m absentminded
Today I’m weeping, of dreams only for the sleeping
Today I’m flawed; tomorrow I’m perfect
Today I’ll apologize; tomorrow I’ll renege it
Today I’m hasty; tomorrow I’ll wait if
Today is for the taking at all
Yesterday was like today; tomorrow’s too late
Today is too early to be worrying about yesterday’s mistakes
I’m impatient today; I’m a patient today
I’ll discharge this charge of negativity until the doctor loses some patients (patience) today
I needed company today; misery was too busy
Then it’ll come the next, and I’ll be soon iffy
You know I'm relieved today,
Don't know if I need it, today, because today, in a way, I didn't believe in today
Tomorrow I’ll evolve; tomorrow I’m a hero
Tomorrow I’ll solve yesterday’s material
I erased today, and rewrote yesteryear
Everything I drew, I shook the etch a sketch and just left it there
Tomorrow I’ll be able forget today’s regrets
I’ve already beset everything that they’ve abet
I’m afraid today what tomorrow may bring
Because today I feel nothing short of every thing.
Every day is like today, and
Today was just another day that I wish I’d wish away


Post Script: I'm getting my movie game up, but slipping on my music game. I grew up too fast, and then again, I didn't. We miss a lot of things, but sometimes doing nothing about it feels so right!"This was a story about a girl who could find infinite beauty in anything, any little thing. And even love the person she was trapped with." - The Brothers Bloom

"I am an island of such great complexity."

Tuesday, September 13

Nice to Meet You Ms. Communication

*Attention* I'm glad that I have yours now in an attempt to write this filler before this City and Colour album ends. Due to lack of creative juices, especially in the Brave New Voices area, I was thinking on following up to the requested Trust Exercise post (http://justtravistran.blogspot.com/2010/10/trust.html.) This is one is also completely opinionated, and you're free to agree or disagree with my own ideology at your own will. Movie watching is still progressing with several, 7 or more, per week. I missed the last drive-in movie, but refuses to miss the next. If you're in the New Orleans area, this weekend brings upon many ventures that you may want to invest your time in. I.E. J. Cole and Burlesque concert at House of Blues, Circus du Soleli in the New Orleans Area, Is He Dead? at UNO, and Adams Family at the Mahalia Jackson Theater. You may want to make an attempt/effort to cultivate yourself a tad bit. Say classy New Orleans. Wish I could attend at least half, but only J. Cole seems within reach with the wedding in Atlantic City. Weddings are my favorite gathering/function anyways. Onto Bullspitting.

The best communication is of the unspoken kind, well the type that matters in any sort. It's optimal when two parties aren't talking that communication is best executed. Doesn't make any sense? Take the example of best friends. Best friends have an unexpressed understanding, creating this free space of independence. I think the previous sentence was a "stating the obvious" observation. Well with this free space, there is a very minute chance of people undergoing misunderstandings. If I don't talk to you for months or even years on in, does that make me less of a friend to you? Sorry, that was sort of a loaded question. However, the answer is no. Now-a-days if casual friends don't talk or the more modern form of communicating (tweet replying or facebook wall writing), then they're listed in the fake or shady friends criteria. If anything that I've learned is that people care in an array of ways, continuously or sporadically, in a very wide range. So, don't be so quick to point fingers for reasons of misplaced times. Some of my closes relations I talk to every other week,once a month, or even on a whenever I see you basis. They know where I'm at. A lot of people that I've parted ways with, for whatever the reason, we talk by just looking at one another. I'm sure you're familiar with those "fcuk I miss you, me, us, our relation ole fam/buddy/pal/ex-girlfriend." Who needs to say anything, huh? That's communication, when you sigh at the sight and gasp at grasp. If you've ever read my eye of the beholder, looking in someone's pupil could leave you room for your own speculations. People can be introverts, extroverts, or even a little bit of both, so be mindful. Friends of mine are so consistent that I disregard the familiarity and instead make memories with the exchange of words. By this time I am well aware of redundancy and uselessness. If I haven't gotten the point across, I'm saying that if someones need to talk to another every day to explain and understand one another, you need better communication. You don't know each other as well as you should, just yet. This meaning less use of the vocal chords and more leveling of the minds to becoming near in sync. Granted that in the beginning of every relationship there is pardon to reach a consensus. Let us be conscious of one another. Maybe I felt the need to write this to rationalize why I don't talk to those who were closest to me. Be aware that you are pretty close to me still, with or without the ventures and unspent free nights and weekend minutes. Maybe I wrote this to justify why I didn't wish you a happy birthday or any big event I should've been a part of but was apart from. And if we see each other, I'll know you're doing fine, and fcuk you know I miss you. With a closed mouth and dreary eyes, I'll always being missing you. Shout out to those I'm getting on this level with and will be continually be on that level with. Silent, but really I'm screaming out I like where we are. If we can metaphorically be "best friends," you with me for life love. Let us rewrite the definition of proper communication etiquette.

Post Script: My generation is missing, above all else, humility. I fcuking hate it.

Monday, August 22

The Sun

I said I would blog more, and I didn't want to make it as if I am like a liar. Here's a piece that I wrote on this laptop, whilst unable to find solemn sleep. Enjoy. By the way, just watch Brown Sugar for the zillionth time and can't wait for the Black Star Concert featuring Mos Def and Talib Kweli on September 6th at the House of Blues. I said I wouldn't go to concerts but Mos Def got me into REAL hip-hop, and Black Star only did 1 album 5 years ago!!! This will be a #classic #mustsee.

I’ve stayed up long enough to see the sun rise
Awakening to the falling of
Not anticipating its feat to the rest of the universe, running only to the other side
But awaiting its return to displaying its rays of resiliency
Showing its true colors as it impacts the horizon
Others would rather enjoy it fade to black, indulge the death, the end, of the day, of the sun
The rise is not only the moment when fully visible
But it will have to cease after it’s reached its highest point
So anything less than that, brings your head down
Subconsciously people have to look up to the sun as it is rising, and nod as quickly as possible to the latter
Not a day goes by without it
The sun is also subject to mortality, to the hands of God, the hands of time
Parallel is the view from the sunrise to sunset the same
I am the sun





"If skills sold, truth be told, I'd probably be lyrically Talib Kweli. Truthfully, I wanna rhyme like Common Sense." - Jay-Z in "Moment of Clarity"

"If lyrics sold, then truth be told, I'll probably be just as rich and famous as Jay-Z. Truthfully, I wanna rhyme like Common Sense." - Talib Kweli in "Ghetto Show"

That's how Hip-Hop pays homage. Shout out to Common too. #WordisBorn


Looking through some pictures, found these. =P




Saturday, July 30

Keep the Art in Artsy



"There's a switch, I flip, emotions cut off." - Eminem. I was so angry when I found out I wasn't the right type. FCUK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I just wanted to be a match! FML!!!

So this is a hiatus from taking an intermission. Lol. I still haven't put the thoughts to paper for the novella, and for that I am deeply sorry. The ideas are there without sufficient leisure time.

Here's a short audio/video update. I went to my first drive-in movie and watched one, what is now, of my favorite movies: Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. It's black and white at that. Love black and white movies pre-technicolor. I hope they show more and more drive-in movies. It was an experience, but I'm not going to run-on. You should decide for yourself. Besides that movie I've been watching a few artsy movies and Martin Scorsece, well his more recent movies. What a brilliant director he is; I'm going to watch majority of his movies. Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris was AWESOME as well. Woody Allen is so much respected in Europe than here. His movies are very underrated. This post won't be a summary, it's just going to give you a heads up on what you should be paying attention to, opposed to just special effect-ed movies. By the way I watch Goodwill Hunting every time it's on. Very very very related.


Trying to keep this post short as possible so on to music. Norah Jones' - The featurings is at the top of my list right now. Her newest album is on heavy rotation at work. Top 5 songs out of 18, in no particular order: Turn Them with Sean Bones, Little Lou, Prophet Jack, Ugly John with Belle & Sebastian, Virginia Moon with The Foo Fighters, Life Is Better with Q-Tip, Here We Go Again with Ray Charles. In my opinion you should really give a listen if you like G.O.O.D music, Getting Out of Our Dreams coined by Kanye West. Somehow, Adele and Norah Jones never seem to fail me. I want to name my daughters after them. If you're into rap, Bad Meets Evil - Hell the Sequel is #nice. Black Keys' Brothers album is good. The band Late Night Alumni isn't bad if you like, said by a friend, elevator music. Lol. Just listening to Sara Bareilles' Kaleidoscope Hearts album. I'm awaiting Coldplay and Gym Class Heroes' newest albums.

That brings me to my next point. Someone asked me where I get the screen name JustTravis from. "So this is me at my most honest, no egos, no Gym Class status, just Travis. Love it or leave it, but you gotta admit on a scale of to awesome I'm the shit." - Gym Class Heroes. That's where I get it from. Since I heard that song I've been using it every since. I've been listening to Gym Class since Papercut Chronicles, have you? Random: Did you know that Katy Perry is talking about Travis McCoy from Gym Class Heroes in the song "Circle the Drain." Also, Travis says, "I used to used to use." in "Stereo Hearts."

I sort of find it distasteful when people don't do their research when it comes to movies/music. Where you on Lupe and his first album or when he was an underground artist? Nope. Where you on Gym Class when their raps were dark and more grim in Papercut Chronicles or when they're more playful songs came out in As Cruel as School Children? Nope. Did you know Harry Potter movies had mutliple directors? If you like hip-hop listen to Scarface's album The Fix instead of the new Lil' Wayne. Lil' Wayne is nice, but are you listening to him and his, "How to Love" because every one else is? I know he probably didn't write that like not writing "Prom Queen." Do your research and listen carefully to people if you really like them. Every one is only on what's new and "hot shit." Please know what you're listening to and if it's actually worth watching or listening to, instead of only following trends. Seems more and more likely for someone to say something is good, when pertaining to movies and music. It's pretty wack. Sorry for ranting. I really do like recommendations, but please make them worthwhile. I've past up quite a few concerts with good artists lately, but I'm keeping my promise and am only going to plays for now.

Post Script: I will be blogging more as it is my only social network and a good exercise to avoid an "if you don't use it you lose it" predicament.





















I'm in this place, wish I could tell you all about it.

Wednesday, March 9

Intermission

So, I've come to realize that I have only 3 Novellas left until it's complete. However, I haven't been able to write because of the fact that no single idea is deemed good enough or suitable, yet. It has to ultimately end, maybe even with a happy ending; I haven't decided yet. I'm not going to write or blog until I figure something out. Maybe going to WESTSIDE STORY on the 15th will help me with my ideas and endeavors. I'm super fcuking excited.

On another note, I've finished my first wood's project. I am highly satisfied with the results. That is what I spent my Mardi Gras doing, well for the most part. Baby Hunter kept me occupied as well. There isn't anything else I would've like to have done. Carpentry may be my next hobby, who knows. The ideas are there, it's just the learning and being passionate about it that has to make it work. I should've built a house instead. It feels better to build something for someone than to buy fun or gifts. Maybe, one day in the near future. I'm at work still taking off the clear coat with our acetone. LOL. I guess building or inventing things will take the place of writing, maybe. I just don't know what to do with what I built now. Kind of want to destroy it. The Cresent City Classic is coming up as well, and I'll be definitely be running in that, without a doubt.

My last few spoken word, two to be exact, have been diasterous. I'm getting so nervous on stage now. Fml. I can't figure if I'm losing it or if it's just the pieces I'm performing. I hope the passion isn't gone. Need to practice more because I literally died on stage on the last one, HORRIBLY, with the stammering and digressing, etc. I want to start sketching/drawing again. At one point, I was fairly decent at it, in my own opinion.

My sister's birthday is in two days. Must think of presents.

http://justtravistran.blogspot.com/2010/03/boy-meets-world.html

Until my next blog or novella.

Sunday, February 20

This is not a Love Poem

I'm disappointed in my performance last night. Again, I should have made more time to memorize my piece. Maybe I'm disappointed from the day of writing, the lack of subject matter, or that I succumb to doing this one. Either way, I stand by the sincerity of my words. Someone referred me not to do another "Love Poem." So I thought up this concept. Video "may" be up soon. Thank you Steven, Caroline, and Nansay for going to support my arts. Anywho, Here it is:

This is not a love Poem
This isn’t me standing in front VAYLA using striated muscles lifting a piece of paper filled with lovey dovey sentences
This isn’t a manual given from God through a burning bush about love
I am not Moses.
My name is Travis, I’m a straight shooter
So believe me when I tell you that this is anything far from love
I’m a gangster, not a poet
I’m a player, not a priest
So this isn’t even me up here
And this will have nothing to do with her, at all
I’m not going to go on with metaphors about how much I feel her swag and want to bag her like grocery
Or all that I was going to do or all that I’ve done.
I’m not going to talk about the time I cut my hand in front of the palm reader to prove that she is in my life line or the night we stayed on my roof until the morning just to see if we’d catch the Northern Lights.
This will not be a love poem.

This isn’t a still that a Canon or Nikon could capture with fish eye lens.
It’s not an illusion to make you think that we’re still in love.
It’s not the time for me to tell you that I’m missing her, so I’m not going to
I’m not saying that I’ve wept enough to have 8 cups of water every day for the rest of my life
This is not a poem wrapped in latex spewing my emotions onto the nearest stranger. This is contraceptive. This is an assembly line of words to prove a point.

This is not me making up rhymes schemes
About only having $1 and a dream
Cause if ever I had a $1 I’d buy more dreams
Tylenol pills and a bottle with a drink
Our minds would fall asleep
And our hearts would be in sync (sink)
Like champagne flutes and tuning forks
And arguments about who loved who first

And I’m not going to tell you any of that because this is not a Love Poem
But if it were
I’d tell her that my heart pumps wine, I breathe in the oxygen channel
My heart is on the sleeve of her cardigan, my initials are on the emblem of her Tory Burchs, my soul is at the bottom of her Space Jams, and my mind wanders among setting suns and drifting waters, drawing maps in my head quilting memories of her subconscious.
Damn, good thing I didn’t say any of that deep, raw real shit.
But if pressure bust pipes, well what about valves
Because if this were about love she’d go in and out
That’s 116 pounds traveling through my bloodstream
The reason for my apical pulse, the bottom of the heart.
I can still feel her breath on the back of my neck
If this were about love, this would be my 9th symphony composed in “A minor” for mi amor so that these 10 digits can dance 8-count octaves across a bridge under the moonlight
Where weddings would consist of more than just vows but consonants
If this were Jersey Shore I’d be Ronnie and she‘d be my backpack of a Sammy and all we’d do is Get To Love like GTL. Even when your beauty fades or you start to look like Snookie. So don’t leave the show my Sammy until Pauly D spins a love song.

But this isn’t MTV or anything short of a love poem
This poem started global warming, the one made the President of Egypt resign, the one that makes Nicholas Sparks look bad, and got Megan Fox to stop doing Transformer movies.
These are my words in the form of rose buds lying at your feet while I keep the thorns wedged in my hand. This is salt on an open wound with my flesh exposed. This is a more of a horror story or a lost cause than love poem.
But I don’t know exactly what it is.
My name is Travis, I’m a straight shooter
So believe me when I tell you this is anything far from love


Post Script: Today would be a good park/motorcycle day. Must memorize, must memorize, must memorize poems for next performance on March 1st.

Monday, February 7

Catch Twenty-Two at 21

If I can trick everyone into thinking I'm okay, there's nothing that I cannot do. I used to know how to sacrifice, now I've learned to be sacrificial. Understand I'm doing what I can for a common future good, only at the expense of myself. If I feel as if do not deserve it, I try to keep it from me. Close ones around me have been forcing the issue lately, so it's making me rebellious. I don't mind not looking out for myself primitively. It is not because I didn't want it; it's because I wanted it more than anything at the time, more than anything. So, I don't want to be rooted for anymore, caught in a place between false pretenses and hope. However, today is one day and tomorrow is another. Nevertheless today is today.

Some sadist is going to find solace in this.

Forgive me of my trespasses as I forgive those who trespass against me.

I've had to add more sentences to this post than I would've liked, but please pray for my good friend Mimi, my good neighbor So Quyen, and my grandmother Ba Hien. Yesterday had coffee with Tap till the wee hours of the morning and will have dinner with Mimi tonight and see Nansay following.

Thursday, January 20

An Elegy for the Ages

Black Swan was the shit, definitely top 10 movies for me. I miss acting. Anyways, after literally 20+ fictional, situational stories, this is the concept I created and decided to publish under this particular title. I apologize for the wait. Working diligently on this one took a bit longer with the whole process, so I hope it's well worth my procrastination. Here is the 6th novella.

It is now 2:27 P.M. January 23, 2011. She's still resting, and I'm lucky to be among her presence, much less the only one lying with her. At this tranquil state, we could capture this moment forever and end my story here, but we won't. In her bed that they made for her, you've never seen something so peaceful. "Quiet!" I yell to an empty crowd to assure that she sleeps without distractions. I only lie facing downward, in hopes that we're connecting face to face in an inseparable realm of an ethereal home. The garden that encompasses you is tainted from daily raindrops descending from the cheeks, forcing petals to retract and stems to bend gloomily, while hydrating the Earth. With me are gardening tools: soil scoop, gardening knife, folding saw, etc. Some to plant new flowers and rid weeds, and others to fix divots, craters, and indention caused by the insensitive, ignorant visitors who know not of your grace. Odd that I recourse to the foot of a marble tombstone as a source of solace. This engraved rock with everything that you were: loving mother, faithful wife, loyal friend, and unconditional lover of the arts. This is my everyday vacation resort to which I resort to.

Rain drops fall from the heavens as if they know of my sentiment. So they mask my salty tears and heaving breaths. I upwardly come to my knees, on one knee exactly, as an act of surrender, as I scold the beings above for my circumstances. My face descends because I should not be angry, as you would not have that. Seems like it's either misery or frustration that accompanies me. I try to get myself in a state worthy to speak to you. Deep breathes and steady movements follow. So, I begin, "Hey you." There holds a long pause before I sob and mumble lividly. "It's me again. Sorry if it seems that I 'm so desperately seeking your attention by accompanying you here. Seems like I lost my way somewhere along the lines of life since your departure. So, I find serenity in the only place that seems fit, next to your beautifully decaying body. I no longer dwell in the mistakes unresolved, chances not taken, nor malicious truths. The biggest things in life you'll ever have to come to terms with is that at one point you weren't good enough. I've read those conditions, come to terms, and signed away my regrets. All I have left is your permanent venue to dwell in. One less angel has construct a humanity a little more barbaric and cruel, no longer with the view you provided for uneasy hearts all around the world. I miss you!!! Seems like everyone misses you. Your husband still walks about soulless, your kids motherless, and the world youless. I see them around from time to time, but I'm not at any right to talk to them or serve as comfort. Your son has your talkative lips, and your daughter has your hopeful eyes and avid ears. I never told you, but I saw you play at your concerto. Sitting in the back of the hall, able to faintly hear what is seemingly Gabriel's Horn through strings of your instrument. I would love to have sat in the front, with the rest of your immediate family, but my low income could only vouch for the most distant section. Nevertheless, you were brilliant as you've been and your progression has come a long way. In every octave, it hit home. It's such a wonderful catharsis. The foundation for your house is just as strong as you left it. It's always well furnished and decorated seasonally, as you would have it. I still live in my one bedroom studio, a lifestyle short of extravagant. Probably a lifestyle that wouldn't suit your penthouse life." I fall victim to my own shortcomings at this point. Still on one knee, my face falls forward upon your stone. My heart feels like it wants to escape rigorously out of my chest to swim through the soil deep into your casket right now. It doesn't seem too impossible while closing my eyes.

Before I could continue with the conversation, a familiar sound presents itself. Is it possible that I'm here? It's my alarm clock sounding, I'm sure of it. Then, I lethargically open my saturated eyes to confirm my surroundings. I am no longer at the cemetery, but instead on my twin sized bed with a dampened pillow. Has one of those realistic dreams just past? The alarm clock reads 2:27 P.M. So this means that maybe you're still alive; maybe you're out and about and not lying in a casket; maybe I didn't get to say those things to you; maybe you're life is still in progression; maybe you're husband is not a widow; and the world is still as bright. This means that just maybe you're alive, and I'm not able to see and talk to you every day. There are no text messages asking me if I am okay about your death or wall post denoting that people miss you dearly. So I guess this means that your awake living the most fulfilled life undocumented, and I'm here wishing you were not. *Sigh*

If there were any reasoning towards appropriate circumstances to wish death upon someone, maybe this would be it. Hopefully, these would be the conditions. In my own selfish ideology, this would not be far-fetched nor illogical, but rather sensible and comforting. There isn't too much wrong with wanting to be able to lie next to the one you love on a rainy Sunday morning, is there? You don't know how much easier it is to see her while she's lying in a six foot deep abyss of a funerary box than walking around with her husband. Six feet, I wish I could be within six feet from her at my own convenience. Six fcuking feet is much closer than I'll ever be to her in present day, opposing to when she used to be no farther than an arm's length. With all that she has, it would seem almost life threatening for me to come within six measly feet. It's as if her husband, house, children, capital assets and sentimental assets serve as restraining order within itself, telling me to keep away from their foundation. So at this point her death wouldn't be so bad in my favor. Why is it so horrid to be granted such privilege? All that I'm asking for is the chance to talk to her everyday and be within six feet in distance without the world reprimanding me and being cumbersome. For now, I still wished she'd die, preferably by natural causes. However, I'll just have to watch her, at distances farther than six feet, live her life in happiness among a sea of company and fortunate circumstances only short of myself. Maybe she'll hear my thoughts sooner than never, an elegy for the ages. Fall asleep while the world falls at your feet.

Wednesday, January 12

To Each His Own

I'm waiting for a second... How do you take that? Waiting for a second as an order of time, only waiting for a literally one second. Waiting hypothetically for a second, denoting that you better snappy about it, whatever you're doing. After that second is gone, do you urge to leave? Are you referencing opportunity, like awaiting for another presumed chance to come along? Is someone currently first and you wish to be chronologically second? In this manner, second would need a precursor. So many interpretations to mention.
Anyways, I'm waiting for two "second"s.

Sunday, January 9

Movies are like Time Machines

So, I watched Paris Je'taime, which was the movie that New York, I Love You was based on. I guess you can say that it's more of an artsy type movie. However, Je l'ai aimé, don't know if that's the correct translation; the aid of freetranslations.com was at my convenience for that one. Muahahaha. Phatom of the Opera was going to be my subject of matter for today, but I decided not to write a blog of a well-known movie. I don't want to say that vintage movies and music are better than the present day's, but it's always good to feel a bit nostalgic occasionally. Here is another one of my top 5 movies:



This movie is a must watch. Casablanca is one of those black and white films that has its posters all over gimmick restaurants as decor, such as Apple Bees. Honestly, I'm not a movie connoisseur by any means, especialy pretaining to older movies, nor do have the right to criticize. This movie, however, just happens to have been completed in 1942 and possibly my favorite movie of all time!! Humphrey Bogart is in this movie, don't know it that means anything to you. It's filled with quotable script writing and relatable predicaments, what movies today lack. Don't want to give you the full plot of the movie in hopes that you might actually watch it. Also, I don't know if anyone knows it but Prytania Theatres in New Orleans still shows classic movies, usually during noon or midnight, that you can watch. I've always wanted to catch one, but not too many people are willing to watch black/white movies. -_-.

Rick, Humphrey Bogart's character, is one of those chronically depressed, player type, one night standing individuals. No resemblance to me *cough cough.* He's quick witted and apathetic when it comes to life. Yet again, no resemblance to moi *sneeze sneeze.* On the other hand, he does own his own bar in "Casablanca" and does have a rendezvous with the girl to whom he is sprung on, as T-Pain would say it. If you would like to watch this critically acclaimed, academy award winning movie, I would suggest you stop readng now. Because, little did he know that during their whole short intimate relation that she was married to another. Epic stuff right? So she comes back asking for a favor. Sounds like every ex-girlfriend you know huh? I kid I kid. Scenes (moments) happen and sparks fly that's undeniable and semi-romantic like. But aside from the gestures and reoccurig emotions, she is still with her husband. She offers to leave him towards the end of the movie for Rick, but just like all good movie, circumstance change ad it doesn't end as happily as yo would like it to. So that makes Rick my idol male character, sacrificial enough and melancholic throughout. No resemblance to me *sigh sigh.* Isn't it an unsought responsibility to be able to break someone with any word or action at any given time.

Ilsa's character is my idol female character. She's admist unavoidable circumstances at the expense of love. This isn't another blog about a love movie, because things don't work out in the end. I learn to really appreciate her character in her own attributes of attractiveness. It's a bit complicated for her, but all's well ends well. What was she thinking right? Going to Rick's bar, far from her residential area, to ask for an uncanning favor that accompanies her husband. I'll tell you what she's thinking. She's utilizing her resources to make best of a unfortunate situation while rekindling old flames. Smart girl she is, because I would've done the same. Hehe. The next motion pictures blog will be about a character quite similar to her. Till then, I hope you watch and enjoy as much as I did.

So, I posted this song sung by Frank Sinatra once before. This one is the original version by Sam Dooley Wilson from the movie from which I fell in love with. Guess this song could've sucked me into watch it alone. God I miss Sinatra, but I have near enough vinyls to remember him by. Drop more hit Frank!!!



Post script, it's funny how people write certain indirect sentences for others to read. I may be guilty of it, but it is usually only directed to my bloggers, no one that I'm afraid to say to his or her face. FWM.

Post script script, I don't get tired of apologizing if/when necessary, because I am young and reckless. Doesn't give me the right to keep fcukign up though. Oh wells, live and let live. =P

Tuesday, January 4

Blogging Bo·lo·gna

Sorry for the delayed requested entries; I'll get to them I promised *girl scout honor*. I'm kinda, sorta in a mood to babble blog.

I don't like to talk about myself. I guess because I don't want to be like everyone else, boasting about themselves and/or gloating about what they've done, where they've been, or whom they seen. Everyone's always out to differentiate themselves from one another to retain a sense of superiority. I'm different because I'm this and tha I'm special because I've done this and that to/with him or her here and there. After they're done reading your documentations in fascination, I'm sure they might, just maybe, start living their own lives. So you can save it and shove it. Lol. Sounds like something Nancy would say. I'm blogging about neither of those things in the former sentences.

So here I am 10 run-on sentences and 15 minutes later and still without a noteworthy sentence, the power of distraction. By the way, I do that. I distract people from the core conversation just to get past it, becomingly extra skilled at creating those "what were we talking about?" situations. To those who know me, I'm known to use extrovert tactics. Avoiding things is too common, but if you find a way to work around it, you're gold. Giving ultimatums, not excuses, is another tactic. For example, what if I told you I'm writing this blog to make you think that I'm actually cerebral and practice and utilize these methods, when really I'm actually just simple-minded trying to "differentiate myself." Now that I've said that you're considering that option. Now what if I said I'm kidding and I'm really that way. Too many choices to pick!!! This is how I initiate the confuse and conquer *recent named.* Sometimes I say what I mean and sometimes I kid so that it's hard to pinpoint out what I really mean, which leads me to my next bullet. Almost every action and word exchanged is premeditated and comes from reasoning and foresight. However, I can improv your ass pretty well if something comes as unexpected. Try to mind-fcuk me! JK. Moreover, you'll never figure me out, point blank. *not gloating because it's nothing I'm proud of.* I may bullshit you and have these thought out acts towards expected results, but if you ever asked me ANYTHING, I will more than likely tell you the TRUTH, whatever it maybe. I am subject to "going around the answer," and, in the most extreme case, am subject to lying. If you ask the same question twice, I will not and god forbid, lie to you unless it hinders YOUR future progression. People say I'm manipulative and several say I'm over-analytical. Believe me when I say that I'm not doing it because I want to, but because can't stop and am fairly decent at it. Always do your homework when you're getting into something, it'll give you the upper-hand, but you'll risk counter-productiveness. Sorry that I constantly critique. Last bullet because I'm getting tired, especially of talking about myself. I'm afraid of how intelligent or skillful I can be. So, I hide behind sub-par grades, lethargic mind-frame, and mediocre lifestyle so that maybe I won't be shocked at how how productive and fulfilling life can be, scared to be not considered normal. I dibble dabble in things here and there to which I barely boast about, but now I'm learning to get my shit together. To stop with all the mind games and worry about a future to which I'm creating for myself. I used to love genius like Kelly Tsai once said, but now I'm defining and sculpting a thing called my future. It is only just the most pivotal step I'll ever make into a place called stability, not to be mistaken for as success. I'm trying to get better daily and rid these antics of careful mind thought towards useless returns. Who cares if I can fool you or if you can't pinpoint me? Who cares if I've met the most renown artist, actor, pope, songwriter, etc.? What makes their lives more important than my own? People don't care as much as you think, they just want to satisfy their curiosity about you. I'm done "differentiating" myself. I'm not looking for any ecstatic moment or any single life-altering event. I'm trying to find stability that doesn't require me to mindfcuk people into getting what I want to suit my selfishness of misplaced happiness. I don't care if no one is with me, but the more the merrier. If there isn't anyone to witness my dreams come true, I'm sure I'll survive. I'm not here to be the best at anything: moneymaker, event goer, boyfriend, friend, athlete, best dressed, or best looking. Being important doesn't make me stable, it shortly alters my emotions. Fcuk being important and be well known as, which only gets me so far. I'm not looking for missing aspects of life; I'm just trying to get to a point where I can be glad to die at any given day, preferably with kids. Once I find that type of stability, you'll see even less of me because that is where I'll be residing, a new dwelling. Don't keep tabs on me, but I'm getting my career down first. Sorry if you're second, even for a second.

"Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference." - Robert Frost

This might be worthless to you or a bad read or whatever classified. It'll be, to me, more than you know, my secrets.

Saturday, January 1

Quote the Raven Nevermore

What is behind you is not too far away

Somewhere above the atmosphere lies a world of our own making, self-sufficient and self-sustained.

Sometimes not thinking is most reasonable

Seems a bit arbitrary to not abide by the laws of attraction.

It is the distance that separate us, not the miles.

The best erection is that of a stimulated mind.

Don't underestimate innate thinkers; they're just as dangerous to themselves.

See me being yellow it adds more depth into your color spectrum. My eyes are brown, my hair is black, my lips are pink, my skin is yellow,
and teeth are eh well an off white. That means you can get a glimpse half the color wheel just looking at me. So spare your kaleidoscopes.

Too often and swiftly regrets come. Seldom they leave, at least in a timely manner.

Do well for yourself but do good for others.

Ignore ignorance and acknowledge knowledge. Simple and plan.

When you question a person's motives, think about convenience.

If you don't quench your thirst for knowledge, you may just dehydrate & faint of ignorance.

Where everyone claims the victim, where are all the villians?

If you must, flirt with a little bit of purpose, but make love to reasoning.

You're a great actor; for when the blind can't see and the deaf can't hear, they will always feel.

Picking up on magnifying images of shattered, scattered mirror shards as water reflects light. Scabs on her hand from mishandling teardrops.

We celebrate for those who can't. We apologize for those who can't, for our selflessness in debaucheries.

When someone advises you "not to let it go to your head." Simply reply, "It doesn't always go that far up, it yields at the heart.