The Feeling...

As of late, I have been feeling as if I am short of breath. My mom claims it has something to do with my allergies, or the fact that I had pneumonia once as a child. She feels that I may be experiencing symptoms of asthma.

I know it's not asthma. It is something far more painful than any physical ailment, any amount of thick, gooey phlegm caught in my throat or any bloody, lightning strike sinus headache. There are experiences in our lives that cannot simply be chalked up to "being sick" in the common sense of the phrase. I know it's not asthma. I am feeling something that wraps its bony hands powerfully around my neck and squeezes with all its might to assure that I am left without breath, while at the same time sucking the air from within my lungs. This is my feeling of an isolated existence; my fancy, and probably unnecessarily lengthy, way of saying I'm lonely.

I've become so afraid of the future, of the things I think I know, that I have begun to push myself into a deep darkness of hysteria. I wish so strongly not to be myself, and to have the power to change it all.

Everything is a blur; from the instant I wake up, fresh drool on my cheek, and the smell of air freshener being beaten out only by my morning breath, until the moment I drift into what I hope becomes a blissful slumber - a blur. There I lay in bed, as the world I experienced for the day shifts in my brain to create a dilemma of dramas and romances, of comedy and horror, only to be awaken by the shrill beep of my alarm, unready to do it all over again.
Everything is an ugly blur.

I plead with myself to escape these emotions, and most of the time, it is a success. I am free from the pain when I am with certain friends, but even then I am sure to keep the atmosphere perfect. I refuse to let it change for I fear nothing more than rupturing that which lets me feel more normal.

My fraudulence is what makes it so difficult for me to connect anymore. If I cannot be true with myself, how can I ever suppose to be true with someone else? The people around me are not so ignorant that they do not notice I am not whole, that I am not always sincere. They have to know that I loom with suffering and my only attempt to escape is to have acceptance. It is why I fear ruining what I perceive as the balance during a conversation, or a small get together.

By trying so hard to be accepted, I am slowly forcing myself away from what I desire most. But as I wrote in a small, leather bound notebook: "The feeling of desiring something too much, resembles that of a heart pumping too much blood. The warmth felt within is actually a warning, an overlooked sign that points vividly in one direction. One dark, endless direction."

My apologies for not posting something positive and reassuring. It's difficult to create a world that I cannot live.

Cubierto En Sangre

Weeeeeeeeell,
I don't really have anything to say tonight, I just really wanted to post another poem that I wrote recently. I also want to make mention of a book that is well-known, and that I've finally forced my mother to read. The Magic of Thinking Big by David J. Schwartz Ph.D. is a book I recommend to everyone. I guess I just wanted to throw that out there while I was here.

Cubierto En Sangre – 12/14/09

“I’m taking consejos from a 12-year-old.”

“I age well, like my mother.”

“Como tu madre,” a whisper crosses his eyes,

his lips fighting against his will.

“Lo hare. I’ll fight back. I’m going to kill them all.”

A smile breaks across a sea of wrinkles

and an old man will die happy knowing

that his lineage is one to be proud of.

“Cubierto en sangre” he chuckles as he waves his hand across

my forehead.

“Matalos. Todos.”

I will kill them all.

I rather enjoy this piece, mostly because it is the first poem I wrote in Spanish. It is my "native" language, but I am not from a Hispanic country. I was born in America, I am an American, and I love my country. However, I understand that the most patriotic thing I can do for my country is question the things it does.
So, the poem reflects the anger that many people feel about how they are being treated in a place that is supposed to be home. The feelings that are held when you are betrayed by those you are supposed to trust. It's a conversation between an old man and his grandson. I'm not sure what I could say for the back story really, but that's the description for you. Any questions? Just let me know, and I'll try to answer them. Thanks, and enjoy.
=D

Out of not posting for so long...

I guess my last blog seemed extremely...hopeful. Optimistic.
But I am going to be completely honest with you, blogosphere. I am not feeling very optimistic, or hopeful lately. I understand that I am just experiencing a low, so I'm not asking for sympathy, I just want to clarify that it's been a hard couple of months. I've definitely had some amazing moments, but things are tough.
So, I'm going to come out and say I have not really been keeping up with my list from before. I know, I seemed so determined. I even tricked myself.
For now, I'm out of school for winter break and am trying to gain bearings on my sleep schedule mostly. I feel that once I get that back to normal, I will get my mind straight and the world will be mine for the taking...again. I will also be trying to get back into the blog-mode. It's truly a liberating experience, but I've lacked the motivation to keep up with it. That may change, once I find something interesting to make a topic. Oh, and I will begin posting my creative pieces from now. They will include an introduction, and if I find it necessary a brief description of the images and meanings within the piece. Here is one that was an assignment for class (as most of these will be).

We were challenged to write words at random as we thought of them, but to make them ultimately cohesive, a la Pablo Picasso. The title is simply the date that piece was written.

10/10/09

red tomorrow had yesterday

left up again and forever

and for forever and ever and

forever again

she me lie apple

hat face run mask and hide

hide just only hide disgust

you me us disguise spiral

naked skin on skin on skin on

skin on skin desk can good

within out repeat and sadness

electricity window paint wood

tile pain blue black sky

shack tower watts flower

no rhyme again and again and again

and again and forever and one

This one doesn't exactly need an explanation, in my opinion. It seems to be a good description of how my thoughts are right now though. If you want a more in depth description, just ask in that little comment box below. Hope you enjoyed it, I will be blogging with you all in the future.
=D

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Now playing: Copeland - Hold Nothing Back
via FoxyTunes

How's this for deep?

I realized something this morning, sitting on my bed lacing up my shoes: I'm horrifically uninteresting. I don't have any amazing talents to amaze people with, or at least not with anything I'm proud of. People say that they like my writing, but I don't enjoy my writing. This seems to correlate with a few other things that people would consider "talents."

It's about time I do something worth being impressed about, something even I can't believe I've done. I'm not talking about one big project, or a series of little ones. I mean it is time that I take accountability for challenging myself.

I've decided to stop being timid about the things I do. I seem to only take the plunge with little things - the goals I know I'm capable of accomplishing. That's not the way to live a life you can look back on while you're skydiving from 3,000 feet in the air while you're 75, about to take your last breath and say "I'm happy that I lived the way I did. Now bring it gravity!" I was always (if you excuse the overused analogy) dipping my toe in to the pool; I never really immersed myself with anything. I mean, I've just came up with this epiphany, so I can't say why, but I do know that it's something I need to fix.

So, I'm going to take a dive in the following ways:

School - I've been lagging in work and study. It's time I realize that I'm paying a lot of money for college, and damnit, I want my money's worth.

Tae Kwan Do - That's right ladies and gentleman, I started Tae Kwan Do two days ago. I enjoyed it a lot, but I found myself coming up with excuses to not follow through on it. Well, no more excuses. I love the way it feels doing what I did last Tuesday, and I can't wait to continue it.

Writing - I'm a Creative Writing major (whatever that means) and I don't even write that much. I've even stopped creating stories in my head like I used to...not in a crazy I-come-up-with-stories-in-my-head-and-create-an-alternate-reality-to-slip-away-into kind of way, but I don't even have ideas for interesting things to write. Now, it's time I take it seriously and begin telling the stories I know I can.

Finally,

People - To be honest, I'm still working on this one. I've noticed that I don't invest too much in people, which some might say is a good thing, but I feel it leaves me feeling isolated at times. I'll see where to go with this one after I get to work on the others, because I've got a feeling they all mix together.

There it is.

This blog really is helpful. I have class in thirty minutes, and I'm genuinely excited for it.

Thanks for giving me a place to finally spill out what needed to be said blogosphere!

Oh, by the way, I'm going to start posting poems on my blog soon. They almost all come from class, but I they are some ditties that can really be enjoyed. That'll be a lot of fun.

Peace and brimstone amigos.

My Theory On: Douchology

Recently I have been discussing the concept of Douchology (aka: Douchebaggery, Douchiness, etc) and I've decided that this should be the topic of my next post. Allow me to explain why I feel this is important:

When I first arrived to University of California, Someplace, I was sure that being at a "top of the line" school would get me away from the douchebags I had to live with back home. The first day went by, and I was completely oblivious to the amount of tools that wandered my very campus. I was so naive, so innocent, and then I saw them: a group of "brahs" wearing backward hats, white tank-tops, v-necks showing their overly tanned chests, and flip flops, all saying things like "Shit was so cash," and having an undeserved sense of self worth. These guys just screamed problems with daddy, sexuality self-consciousness, and social ineptitude, all compounded by a low level of intelligence. Not to mention that stupid grin, the one that says "I have sex with women and then never speak to them again to prove my sexuality because I'm afraid to admit to my friends that I enjoy looking at them when we all shower in the gym after a good pec-buster." Yeah, you know the one.

Later that week I had another encounter. I was approached by many frat-bags (douchebags that stem from a fraternity) at the on-campus welcome celebration. They were inviting me to join in their homoerotic, moronic activities which they confused for fun. I refused their invitation politely, only to get the "Alright brah, you'll regret it," response. Now, it wasn't the fact that the guy was wearing a shirt that was way too small for him, or that he had sunglasses on when it was almost 10:00 PM, that made me hate him immediately. No, it was his false sense of belonging. How dare a douchebag actually step out of his circle-jerk (a figurative circle of douchebaggy friends, often associated with fraternities, sports teams, etc) and attempt to integrate with an even semi-normal person like myself.

The worst part about this second experience was not only my shock that I would be approached by a douchebag, but the fact that I really could do nothing in response to this hideous breach of society's boundaries. I wanted to say "I'm sure I won't regret it as much as your mother regrets ever pushing your oversized, useless head out of her vagina," but I couldn't! This is due to the fact that all douchebags must strengthen themselves in an effort to gain a defense from the rest of humanity.

You see, the problem with being a douchebag, besides - well - being a douchebag, is that they are not accepted by a majority of the world. They may have the upper hand on skanky sorority girls, and their fellow "bro's" but they are ultimately shunned by those who actually matter. Thus, they are in constant danger of people with any level of intelligence defending themselves with their brain. The only way a douchebag can defend himself then, is with an intimidatingly unnecessary workout schedule. This doesn't mean that everyone who likes to work out is a douchebag; instead, it should be understood that every douchebag needs to work out in case someone ever tries to outsmart them.

For that reason, I knew I could say nothing about his mother, for in the douche world, if you do not defend your mother's honor with violence, you have lost all standing among the top douchebags (something I will have to get into at another date).

So, I leave you with some advice:

1. Never communicate with a douchebag. Your level of intelligence actually lowers simply by standing near one. It has been proven.

2. Remember that the only way a douchebag can undouche himself is by: crying in public, being discovered as a homosexual, or getting higher than a C- in any class they take.

3. Not everyone who looks like a douche is a douche. Douchebaggery isn't a style, or even a manner of acting - it is a way of life. So do not confuse them with people who like to wear American Eagle or even Abercrombie and Fitch (one of the key signs to spot most douchebags). You will know when you see a douchebag.

4. And finally, for your own safety, blend in. Don't try to challenge a douchebag, you will only find yourself frustrated with their inability to form full sentences or use correct grammar. Instead, ignore them and throw out words like "dude" and "bro/brah" if necessary to keep them from thinking you are too intelligent.

Happy hunting!

Confessions: Catchy title

This is officially my first post as a "blogger", and I have no idea what that entails. I'm sure I could be much more creative; however, it is now well past 11:30 PM (PST) and I'm beginning to feel tired.

Besides the obvious physical weakness that the word "tired" implies, I am feeling staggeringly more tired about life in general. Being a first-year student at the University of California, Somewhere, I have began to feel my mind finally being challenged. It's an interesting set of emotions that come along with moving away from home, meeting masses of new people, and of course, the unfamiliar set of courses that I am extremely unaccustomed to. All of these combined with what seems to be an uncontrollable need to prove myself capable makes way for a very stressful time.

But, I think it's necessary that everyone (more accurately: anyone) who reads this blog should understand that I am not a person who gets stressed, and I am usually very positive. This up-beatness is constantly defied everyday, and it's a stressful process within itself to not be stressed. Thus, I have decided to create this blog; because I feel it is strenuous and generally uninteresting to speak of hardships with people I've known no longer than two weeks or even with someone I've known for years. Here, on the internet, I don't need to know anyone and I can express anything I feel I would like to release without forcing the burden of listening upon somebody.

We've all been through the awkward conversation with someone who is complaining about something we share little to absolutely no interest. I hope to avoid this situation in the coming days, and have discovered this medium as the perfect place to get out anything and everything that I feel I must share with either nobody or anybody.

So, here's the basics:

My name is Eddie A. Garcia.

I like to humor the idea of me being a good writer.

I also like to humor the idea that I am humorous.

Humor me.

I'm sarcastic about most things, and it usually causes people to laugh or dislike me.

I am young. Take that statement as you wish.

There are beautiful and ugly things in everything; I try to find the stuff in between.

I have no idea what this blog will actually end up including, or how often it will be updated, but I can say that it will be an adventure for everyone involved.

It's past midnight now.

Have a good night, and an even better morning.

=]

Oh, and I like smilies that use the "equals" symbol.