In The Grand Scheme of Things

It’s 3:13AM as I am writing this. I don’t even know how I ended up here. On this site I mean. How I came to be where I am mentally, physically, emotionally and in every other aspect, I have a pretty good understanding of it. Or at least I think I do.

It’s been a little over 13 months since I have updated this “blog“. It’s not that I don’t write or vent anymore. I promise you, I definitely do. I just have not posted here for a while because I promised myself I won’t come back here until I have a good idea of what I wanted to really do with this blog. Surprise! I still don’t.

BUT…

These last 2-3 weeks, for some strange reason, this blog has consistently been in the back of my mind. A bit more than usual. Maybe it’s because a friend of mine from school is in the process of coding his own site from scratch and that has inspired me a little. Maybe it’s because I was reading more consistently than I normally do and listening to audiobooks as well, and as any avid reader would tell you, which I am DEFINITELY not (don’t think I will even hit my 26 books for this year; 12 so far), you do tend to get the urge to write more just to share your thoughts or some quotes you really enjoyed. Maybe it’s because I haven’t been on social media in 60 days and subconsciously this is my brain dealing with that.

Who knows. Who cares. I care.

I guess all I really want to say is that in the grand scheme of things, I am glad I haven’t quit. Haven’t quit on you. On myself. On my family. On my friends. But most importantly, on the promise that I made to myself at the start of 2018.

I Know

I know this chapter will end one day

I hope it ends before the book book does

I know you’re praying for me

I hope you’re better off without me

I know they’ll never know the real you

I hope they do

I know you’re in a different galaxy

I hope I can forgive myself

God is a Woman

there was a point in my younger days when i doubted and questioned God. i still do when nothing in my life is going well just like every human being who is walking, has walked and will walk this planet. certain events have happened in my mediocre life that i know and honestly believe it deep in my miserable, lonely heart that there is a higher power. call it God or whatever pleases your fragile soul but there is a higher power.

i had a chance to see this so called higher power in front of me. the street light was hitting Her face and the work of art that anyone would call Her body. not bright. dim enough to cover a a portion of Her face but just enough for me to make Her out. it was as if She was hiding from me, as if i didn’t deserve Her presence. as if i didn’t deserve to see Her smile, or Her hour glass body. and She was right. i didn’t. i don’t believe anyone deserves to be graced with Her presence even parts of it as i was.

the only thing that was crystal clear was Her welcoming and angelic voice which could convince anyone to do anything She pleased. the type of voice that would make a good man commit hideous, horrible acts and even convince you that all the wars throughout mankind’s history happened for a good cause.

i paused and tried to get a good look at Her in hopes that i can hold on to that moment for as long as i can. i smiled. She gave me half a smile back and even thought i wasn’t really sure to where She was starring, i just hoped it was me. because that’s all i deserve. that’s more than any person ever deserves from Her.

that half a smile, and when She asked me “are you coming?” is enough to make anyone believe in anything. it’s enough to make you wish to only be good. to only do good. it’s enough to forgive yourself for all the self harm. it’s enough to forgive others who have killed you hundreds of times. it’s enough.

i have seen the higher power that thousands of books have been written for and millions of lives have been lost for.

God is a Woman.

Masks Off

this was the first day we met. this was the first day we didn’t have to act; this was the first day we could be ourselves, whatever or whoever that is but this was the closest that we both ever came to that

i hope this lasts just a bit longer.

feelings and moments like these only come once in a lifetime; twice if you’re really lucky and God actually likes you

The Hotel

I have been checked in at this hotel for almost 4 years now. It was glorious and magical at first but being here for so long, I am starting to slowly forget what’s out there. I don’t want to drink at its dimly lit bar any longer.

I don’t want to smoke cigarettes with others who are broken into more pieces than me only to convince me that it’s not so bad.

I don’t want to sleep with the woman down the hall who has chosen me because she knew I’d listen to her beautiful heart which hummed melancholic melodies.

I know I have to check out. I know I am going to check out. All my stuff is packed yet I feel as if something is missing.

Did I pack everything that I came with?

Am I supposed to leave something behind?

Small Step Backwards

For the most part, I was doing pretty good since 2018 began. I was on track with most of my goals. My general mood was much better than it was throughout most of 2017. My positive habits outweighed my negative ones. My “down” days spent in bed were very few, maybe around four or five all together but the last 2-3 days I really just fucked up.

I don’t know why I completely just gave in. I mean, I actually do know and I can pin point the exact feeling that started the chain reaction, but that’s a conversation between me and myself that belongs in my journal. My hand written one to be exact just in case someone decides to ever hack my iPhone or computer.

Paranoid much? Absolutely. I have my master plans and schemes in my journal about world domination. Joking…. but not really.

But as a friend once told me, some things are best kept to yourself.

But hey, I gave myself a pat on the back for the simple fact that I am slowly becoming a little bit more self aware of my thoughts and feelings. Maybe this is what “growing up” is? Or is this what being “smart” is?

I don’t know honestly. I am figuring this out a day at a time. What I do know is this:

  1. I am definitely getting better
  2. I am learning to handle “this” better. Whatever the fuck this is. Depression. Procrastination. Laziness. Mood swings. Stress.

All in all, life is pretty great.

The Calm in Union Square

Driving across town through 14th street, my hand on Her thigh and Her hand on top of that. She kept looking outside while I was looking at Her.

They were walking with bags in both hands. This time around every store was running some sort of sale. They all were smiling because they thought they had saved so much. For a split second I decided to take my eyes from Her and do what every New Yorker does best: people watch as if the the National Geophrafic Channel was airing a special on rare species.

They looked like lost little puppies. Walking around, looking, wondering, with no sense of direction. By the hundreds, just marching on, not even waiting for the pedestrian walking light to turn on, and then it hit me. They were all looking at us. Looking at us as if we had something they wanted. As if we found a better sale. As if we got luckier than them. She gently squeezed my hand with both of Hers and it was quiet for the rest of the ride.

The city was alive as it could of been on a Friday night and yet it felt as it was on life support, barely breathing. No fire sirens. No traffic. All I heard was the news anchor’s voice from the screen in the back of the cab. For that split moment everything was calm. Everything was okay.

Love Letter

dear,

was this it? was this what i always wanted? was i actually looking for it the whole time?

it was always the only thing that never left my side. it was my secret affair. it was my inspiration, my strength and for a long time, my world. i complained to everyone in public about it and how much i despised it, how annoying it was and how tired it made me.

but when we were alone, it was a completely different story.

we had the most intimate conversations because only it knew that i was the worlds biggest hypocrite. yet still, it welcomed me every night into the bed that my last hundred souls had laid out for me. it welcomed me with open arms and silk sheets. god, it was like a beautiful dream with music from billie holiday.

it wasn’t a dream. it was much better. it was real.

it never disappointed me. i always knew where we stood. but i had to leave that hotel room, i needed to see what being “normal” felt like again. i haven’t felt it in almost six years. whatever that even means for every time zone has its own definition of normal.

my normal is your weird and your normal is my hell.

i am writing this to remind you and let you know how much i truly miss you and that we will meet again at some point later on in life. maybe when i start a career, maybe when i have a family. we will meet again and i will welcome you with the same open arms you did; as if you were a lost love from a previous life who i always knew i would find, hold and touch again.

this is what a having a soulmate must be like.

please do not get greedy, please do not get jealous that i am giving attention to others. their jokes are not are not as funny. their touch is not as gentle. their love is not as deep. i will always be yours first before any one else’s. i cannot be without you and all the warmth you bring me.

love, now and forever

Reminder: You Are Alone

In the beginning it’s all good. You maybe even start romanticizing it. You think it’ll pass and that it adds a little character and edginess to your striving artist persona. You’re going through something so personal, something so real, something that will forever change you and be a part of you. Whether you want to accept it or not. Whether you realize it or not, it takes over your life.

You start dodging people’s phone calls at first. There go some friends. You smart going on “social media breaks” for a while. Bam. There fo some more friends even some random ones which you didn’t even care about to begin with. You commit your biggest mistake ever. Your whole world turns upside down and shit is starting to get really bad. You manage to put on a mask and pretend in order to meet a few women and you fall in love once or twice. It gives you some hope that maybe you’re soon about to leave this previous warm love which you hate but feel as if it’s the only thing that truly understands you but SURPRISE! You’re depression has just finished having its morning coffee and is about to start going to crunch time. You go through days, even weeks of not leaving your bed. Start lying to everyone and practically destroy relationship you ever had and besides your parents and like 2 friends, you are all alone.

And I do mean truly alone.

On one hand, you have your parents right? Sure they love you and all of those nice things but this is America. You are a millennial. You are entitled, although you always make very good arguments as into why you’re not. You want more than their love. You want them to understand. But how could they? They just assumed you were being lazy. Coming from practically a third world country where depression gets swept under the rug, people tend to go on about their days because they have real problems like making sure they eat for the day or staying warm. Depression is a western thing and made up to most people in your motherland.

Then you have your friends. Some understand better then others and for that, you are beyond grateful. It’s probably the only reason you still hold on to hope. Your friends have their own problems though. They have their own lives. As Voltaire reminded us, people have their own gardens they need to tend to.

Three years pass by. You fucked up over and over. You’re broke. You feel like you “wasted” so much time. You dropped out of college two times and because you didn’t officially drop out but just stopped showing up, you fucked up your gpa. You managed to build some $8K in debt along the way. You have a job which you fucking hate and every hour that you work it slowly kills the soul a little. Not enough to make you fully give up, but enough for you to slightly notice every month or so. But you can’t quit. You need this job. This job pays your bills. You have bills now. You’re now an adult. Whether you like to admit it or not, you have grown up. By some strange miracle, you somehow end up “healing” you wounds, most which were self inflected if were being quite honest, with the help of a lot of trial and error, bullshit self-help books and articles googling “how to stop being depressed”.

You slowly start becoming a functioning adult. Your “episodes” become rarer as time passes. You don’t spend nearly as much time in bed as you used to. You even quit smoking cigarettes, occasionally jog, smart reading more and even go back to school. Here is where it gets really interesting.

You have changed. You are a completely new person. You are have been reborn. You have danced with the devil. You have befriended darkness and come to accept that no matter what, it will always be a part of you. It might not always consume you how it once did, but it will always be there, lingering around, making sure you’re never alone.

But you are.

You’re an adult who only speaks with 2 friends and your parents. All of your time is spent on working, going to school because no one will hire you in the industry you desire without a college degree or even give you an internship for that matter. You are grateful that you’re not where you once where. You put on this brave face and even quote some inspirational and motivating quote when speaking to those 4 people in your life or strangers at a bar.

But you are alone.

Sure, you justify it all in your head because you are chasing your wildest dreams you had before you went through your depression and you’re working on goals that most of your peers and old friends couldn’t even fathom.

But you are alone.

You play with the idea of sometimes faking it and pretending to be into things that the masses are into: social media, drinking every weekend, whatever new Netflix show is on, whatever new meme is trending and you may even pull it off for a week or two but you know yourself. You spent three years with yourself and you know you don’t belong. You know that one day this pain and these sacrifices will all be worth it. You know even if you don’t come close to achieving most of your goals, you’ll at least be more content and doing better than most people, if not all that you ever met because you are constantly improving and bettering yourself. You will be able to say that you truly tried. That’s something most people wish they can say on their deathbeds. You know this because you climbed over small mountains the last few months and you just started.

But you are alone.

That famous and cliche quote: “It’s lonely at the top” is always in the back of your head. You are no where near at the top, barely even climbed a few stairs. All that you think about besides maintaining a good gpa and budgeting your money to make sure you pay your bills, is:

“Have others been through this too? Have others felt this lonely too? Have others climbed from their casket and go on to achieving true greatness?”

You wonder. You come to the conclusion that with as many people living, and as many people that have lived, chances are a lot of people have gone through this. Maybe not a lot per say, but enough to comfort you a little. You realize that others have had to probably go through much worse. But again, this is America, you are entitled so fuck them. You mental alarm goes off once more.

You are alone.

No one handed you a instructions on how to do this and time is against you. People you have known don’t know you any more. They don’t know anything about you. You have been forgotten.

You are alone.

You still believe it will all work out in the end because you defeated almost all of your devils. This should be a walk in the park for you compared to the last three years. You have faith. Faith begins where reality and common sense end and you know this might end up killing you down the road, but it it only the only thing that’s keeping you alive at the moment. Your alarm goes off. It’s 5AM. It’s time to get up from your bed to begin your day despite the fact that you didn’t sleep.

You are still alone but it’s time to go to work.

Big Boy Pants

I don’t know why I made this blog. I’m not a writer. I probably will never try to become one. I don’t have a passion for writing. What I do know is this: I have some feelings from time to time and I’d like to try to take them from my head and put them on paper, in this case on my blog, as clearly as possible.

Why? I don’t know.

Maybe it’s therapeutic. Maybe I secretly hope someone one day finds my “writings” or rants and it resonates with them and it makes them feel just a little less lonely. Maybe I subconsciously want to become an internet sensation who hides his identity. Okay, I don’t think it’s the last one because I have had my Facebook deactivated since Jan 1st, 2016. Beside that brief period of 2-3 weeks in the summer of 2017, I have had Instagram deactivated for the same period. Twitter I use on and off. I use it for a week then go back to constantly deactivating it every month. Why every month? Well it’s obvious. Because no matter how many points I make against social media, I still am a millennial and who wants to delete their social media accounts completely only to change their mind one day and have no more internet friends?

And as for Snapchat? Well that gets used only when I go out and get drunk, which is about once a month at most. Mostly to embarrass myself with stupid videos from some random bar in the Lower East side or Williamsburg but really because women are much more willing to give out their Snapchats instead of phone numbers. Fucking 2018.

Wait, there’s more.

Tumblr. Hands down my favorite social media outlet. I can honestly say I grew up on tumblr. I had one for almost 8 years since around the summer of 2010.

I learned about different genres of music on tumblr. I discovered one of, if not my favorite writer, Charles Bukowski on tumblr. Tumblr planted the photography seed on me which made me learn the craft for about 3-4 years. I went through my parents divorce ranting on tumblr about how much I “hated” my parents. Till this day, I always apologize for those times that I wished bad upon then in my head whenever I speak to my mother or father. Here’s another fun secret: between me, the internet and the NSA, the first girl I ever slept with I met via tumblr. Mind you, this was way back then when social media wasn’t a big part of of our lives as it is today. Back then people actually made fun of other meeting online. Nowadays you’re made to seem like a weirdo or just a creep if you don’t use it.

I’ve been out for drinks with a friend, I have had women actually tell me “so how do you meet people then? Mind you, this is someone I had never met before and was currently in the process of “meeting”.

I write that brief history about my social media experience because I recently decided to “quit” using tumblr too. A big part was because there is a whole new generation there about 6-7 years younger then me. Also, it’s honestly a few videos away from being a porn site. So many blogs about porn it’s out of control. I blame MTV. I still remember the ad they had. I think it was during the VMA’s where they just randomly made a weird, short commercial and it said “Join tumblr. ” or something to that extent.

That and their purchase to Yahoo which Yahoo later got bought by Verizon equaled to: make money and grow the user base by any means.

And that’s what it did. They added ads, and they started making random little ads through the web to attract more users and added new features like making gifs. Really though, I am not upset. I understand. It is business and at some point people want to see a return on their investments. By all means, get your money. This is capitalistic country. I just felt that no matter what, tumblr would of always been a home for me to just browse around waste some time on occasion, that’s all. I can literally say I may have gotten attached to it after so many years.

I was even going to write a “goodbye” post to all my 139 followers. I know what you’re probably thinking, only 139 followers after so many years? Well, I had about 5K but I may or may have not posted a song by Kanye West from his Life of Pablo album an hour after it streamed on the TIDAL App and it may or may have not received about 50K notes within 12 hours and it may or may have not got the attention of some people who hit me with the copyright rules and deleted my 1st account. Good times. But yes, I was going to even write a “goodbye” post and leave some good advice for the follow lost generation to maybe make their journey even a little bit better but I decided not to. I know deep down I would just be writing it from a place of ego and trying to brag like: “Look at me! I am older than you and have have more experiences than you so that makes me smarter than you so you should listen to me!”

I was 17 and 18 once too. I remember where my head was back then and how I perceived the world.

I say all of that to say this: it was time to put on my big boy pants and have an actual blog to rant, maybe even try this “writing” thing instead of using an outlet filled with 18 year olds and how to’s on BDSM porn.