Lest you be snared by a hopeless drone.

Sigh Finally.. .>^.^
Asian Persuasion
So today I went to the college to get all my duckies lined up.. Doing the orientation tomorrow and then just waiting for my registration day. Everything else taken care of!! Soon as I get my date signing up for classes will be done and done.. I am starting in the summer so watch out hee hee.. Awesome Good news it's been a really rough week. Oh also there is a fire over here... When all this stuff started happening I thought for sure I was going to have a bad day. But well now everything is all said and done and if the fire does get over here we have an evac plan so it's all good. The point of this story is I got all my stuff taken care of!! I got an award letter for monies this week too.. Everything is going well I have to say it's just my emotional state I'm worried about. Like Eeyore everything seems so gloomy trying to get out of this little funk and pick myself up... So the monies that I am getting should be enough to help me out through school for a little bit... Hopefully by next year I'll be working at the school. I Hope so...  with the monies left over from this year's financial aid I think I am going to splurge and get a gym member ship. Now that I am here I am back to eating healthy and well you know what it's not that hard here. I eat the food I need to eat, I just have to continue doing everything in my power to staying on my diet, hopefully by the fall I'll be going to the gym regularly. FIGHTEENG! BALL OF FIST IN THE AIR... It's hard to keep up with all the goings on over here but at least things are shaping up to interesting, I'm still scared shitless... Just breathe, I can do this, totally all I have to do is faze out for the next several years that's all. Auto pilot school, working, gym and repeat 

Spanglish Drone...
Un Amor sincero... I forget the rest and it's driving me up the wall. I've tried looking up the song with whatever pops in my head and I can't find it. I FOUND IT AND I realized that I am punishing myself. Why do I do that? Enanitos Verdes, How they reach me when I think that I can bounce back it'll start humming in my brain, then I hear Sera tu carcel y nuca saldras...

How long has it been that I looked at you the way I am to look at you now. How long has it been since I felt the way I am to feeling for you now. A part of me that wishes to close it up and hide it away from myself because each memory stings as though yesterday was not so far ago. Tu piel y mi piel ves que se reconocen. How did I hide this for so long? How long has it been since I knew that love was enough and it never mattered what anyone said because you knew that it was different.I remember dancing in my underwear listening to Enanitos Verdes, Juanes, Mana y Ramon Ayala. Taking pictures for you and feeling so in love wishing only to hold you and have you hold me like you did in the rain. No one else just us. Us against the world. Now it's me and it's you against the world and no matter how hard it hurts me I played a huge part.

No se mas que hace, quiero ya volverte ver.  Hay una cosa que yo no te he dicho aun que mis problemas sabes que se llaman tu Solo por eso tu me ves hacerme el duro para sentirme un poco mas seguro. The intensity with which the  music is hitting me right now is knocking me down. Each song that plays reminds me of pain and happiness. I can't help but feel pretty useless at this point. My fear is now what? So you get me in this enamored state now what. I think that way I feel like there is always a chance, another way to make something right, but some times the best you have to make it right with some one is to use it for the next relationship. But then I guess how is that fair to the person who waited all those years for you to get your act straight. I walked away thinking that I was never going to get the love I so wanted. SO when I did hear those words and felt that love that I wanted so bad, too late is understatement. Not because it was too late because in my mind and soul I soiled my love.I had made up my mind to leave  permanently. I've always been that way you know. Once I feel like I've gone too far I commit to it. 

These spanish love songs are not helping one bit. Only you know what the songs mean,I wish had had a dance with you. Well not really I can't pass that on to you. That regret is all me. Its my fault and well now... staring at the screen I notice that there is flashing indicator urging me to write on in the endless papers of  virtual clouds. But how can I when it's ever blinking and I am wondering how the hell am I going to do this. I just can't make it. Everything is big and I feel like the person without a parachute.When every steps feels like quick sand, and you are being betrayed by your very own thoughts, there is no way out..I panic. But no matter what I do the demons cause so much distraction. I thought I hid them. I had locked them away under the ocean of tears shed. So how is it that these chains are broken and these demons are being released? So yeah tengo miedo. 

Looking online I found something that jumped out at me..
Jose A.Flores Gudiel

Cuando tu me hablabas de amor,
toda mi vida se pintó de otro color,
trampas tan dulces como la miel
en las que me hiciste caer.

Tus palabras me hicieron llorar
de las cuales me despertaron el deseo de amar,
recuerdo los momentos de discusión
en los cuales terminaba en un beso de eterna pasión.

Horas que juntos pasamos,
fueron horas a las que quiero que volvamos,
ahora todo es diferente... Tu no estás,
ahora paso junto a las horas...

Termino discutiendo solo como loco,
quiero volverte el deseo de amar,
quiero caer como esclavo en tus trampas,
quiero que esta vida en blanco y negro
las vuelvas a pintar con tu amor,
quiero que me vuelvas a hablar de amor.

La nostalgia hace que el tiempo
corra pero caminando....
Mi amor ya no quiero estar con la nostalgia...
Quiero estar contigo.

Jotting Ideas Vs The People Of Lovey's Brain
Cylon Dreamer
It's not easy jotting down things that are floating around nonsensically in your mind. Maybe my approach to all this blogging is about 6 years to late. Like a phase that I never jumped on. I was too busy writing in my journals, when something interesting came to mind a piece of paper and pen is all I had. I never evolved into the Vlogging scene. I'm actually not upset about that now because I tend to enjoy things more when they are out of date or style.. Its true value is therefore now more so than when you enjoyed it because everyone enjoyed it. ... Or maybe it is I'm just not aware of what is happening, like a child that discovers something for the first time, Truth is that hundred's of people doing the same thing you are just discovering really doesn't give you the celebratory planting of the Flag. The idea although new to you does not just belong to you instead as years go by, the sad realization is that there are numerous flags on your hopes and dreams it almost doesn't feel right calling it your own thought. A product of everyone's collective influence on your predecessors evolved into a conjoined thought sparked by something you see by chance when you are a kid. Aha moment, that you were the only one to have ever thought that. Actually that makes no sense what-so-ever... Because you are discovering it for the first time, sure it's bound to happen but it was the first time it happened to you. So for a brief self-centered moment you were the only person on the face of the planet to discover fire is hot, water is wet, and I just don't know anything about computer trends to make me an expert on vlogging or blogging...  

Then it scares me how much I don't know, which is a lot, and it scares me to start college at my age. It scares me to talk with people younger than me or older than me. It scares me to not have a job. My grammar is atrocious, my spelling is subpar. I guess I start to panic and freak out hoping that maybe I can wing it somehow but knowing that I can't. I can no more hide all those shortcomings as one can change the family they were born into. So I do nothing and wait for something, death. But I really don't want to be that way waiting for something to end my pitiful existence. Everyone makes it look so easy, people that have nothing to do with anything, who know nothing, pass by on the life scanner like they suddenly found the meaning to what we have been trying to figure out. I mean what is wrong with me. I know I sound dickish but it's true if I wanted to be honest with myself I really do feel like I can do so much more than what I am doing now. Like a reserve someplace deep down bursting at the seems awaiting for some release. My problem is how do I quench a starving desert using a mythical reserve without the proper tools.. Then it got me thinking what the heck are the tools that will finally get this water up to my parched brain and lips.

Then the problem with help arises. Asking for help is a very new thing to me. I have to ask everyone for help on everything. It's hard for me to trust people I am about as socially awkward as a sea cucumber. Ugh, That is why I wished for tutors when I was younger stupid, Richie Rich! But just who is telling you the truth and who is lying just to bring you to your knees for a merciless kill with a rusty razor blade for fun. Like Full House everything feels so fake Bob Saget is a dirty, dirty man! Hilarious but well pretty dirty. But so many modeled their lives around that show, I mean there wasn't even just one Michelle! Bitch had a double, you never knew who was the evil twin. They tricked you again... I guess that is why having Nannie Television babysit was not a good idea, huh folks. Thanks for the shattering reality that TV world will always be awesome and no matter how hard I try to be good at basketball; I will never be able to beat my dad the day of wedding in the house where I grew up, Stupid Father of the Bride!

Well maybe not just that, other factors are at play here too. I can't blame TV for my trust issues, I can't blame anyone. I don't want to blame anyone anymore. I've been blaming other people now for many years and it's exhausting. I feel like that train has come and gone, why jump on again. Really I hate coming round full circle over and over again realizing you are in the same situation you were about 6 years ago. Eventually something breaks and two bottles of vodka later your sitting in the room smoking crack looking at schizophrenia medication thinking why not just drown out everything with those little horse pills... Yuck, OK so I hate pills I can't swallow too many at a time anymore nor do I want the taste of pills in my throat as I puke up all the milk I used to swallow those damn things. 

So off on a tangent there. Well another sleepless night here in someplace I like to call limbo. I just need those tools, if only I had them now I could use them like something from an underdog movie and prevail with a happily ever after, instead of just ever after. I remember a dream, all around me there is water, flowing fluid water. Moving around me caressing my face and body. It's cool and forceful. I don't realize it's pushing down on me with a tremendous pull. I struggle to swim up stream gasping for air as I leap out of the water for momentary relief only to catch a glimpse of how high the water is falling. Slamming back into the rush of the down pour I think I must get up there, I just must there is something up there for me, and it's calling me. Pushing me up, There is a moment where I am scared and confused. Out in the open it's as though I fly past the raging waters but breathing is out. back in the water it's as though I am fighting a battle I can't win. All the while my heart is pounding so fast with hopes and dreams of what may lay ahead and it boils down to. Do I give up, keep on going, or end it all with no more obstacles in my way. I wake up feeling I made the wrong choice, and craving Salmon.

Lost in a Nerdy Series Again
Ok so I lied sue me! No wait, I actually have no monies, so don't. Ok well tonight was going ok, watched a lot of tv. I finished a series and watched Dr. Horrible, The Guild and countless other things. I can't sleep and I can't do anything about it. Curfew here is no noise after 10:00pm. So I kinda just try to go to sleep as early as possible then it happens. My laptop whispers my name and tells me to write about what ever maybe affecting me. It's always around this time. I feel a tingle in my body and it wakes me up. My brain tries to shut off but it wont and the tv doesn't help much. Well it does, The Guild, is pretty funny!

Too Sleepy to Write
Went on a nature walk today. (Note to self flip flops are not a good idea on a hike.) It was really nice. The only thing I would have to say was that it was annoying  having signs everywhere telling you not climb the trees. Seriously?! Now it makes want to climb those stupid trees just because they say not too. Thought that it would do me some good to get out and maybe it did but I find that I am still in the stay in my room phase. Why can't I just be in the it's ok phase. Tonight not really feeling the whole writing thing. So I'm going to say good night now... Nite.  

Between the Twilight Zone and Dusk
Maybe this whole thing was a huge mistake. Maybe I should let myself be fucked up for a little bit. I know, sounds pretty lame but trying to be a perfect anything and failing horribly is really heartbreaking; especially if deep down the dreams I picked out were very tall orders from people that know nothing about me.I let them tell me what to do and now I am sick of being told what is best and which way I have to go. Truth is I am the fuck up one. Truth is I don't want any of this anymore. Just watched What Dreams May Come. Yea, not a good choice of movie there Einstein.

Long ago I had this dream. An old woman and a beautiful woman next to her were trying to show me something. I however wasn't ready to see so I cried and went through the house picking up my trash and crying out in pain for the mess I created. The Old woman just stared, looking disapprovingly at me while her daughter stepped out into a field of flowers and forests. Watching her leave I cried to the old woman asking if it was my fault. Curtly she said yes and I cried and cried. It has been a while since I had that dream but  it haunts me a bit. 

How much of anything is a show and what is reality? And why is it that when it's to late to do anything about it we finally see the whole picture. The devil is a trickster pulling strings on people like me. I'm sick of it and it drives me insane, sometime I feel like Judas before he died. How can Love find me again? And why does it choose to be such a dick. After all the things I've done, After all the things. I hate you. Here's some words for you I hate that when I needed you, you were gone. I hate that when I closed my eyes I really thought when they opened up again it wouldn't be so black. The bright colors are gone; like that stupid room with blue skies clumsily painted on it an illusion shatters and truth spews out, unwanted and unasked for. All I keep thinking is I am just not ready for it. 

I noticed my hands today, I was sitting down and I was just feeling so morose and reclusive when something amazing happened. My mother's words came over me and I remembered how she held them and pointed out how pretty they were. Every little finger so perfect and tiny, and suddenly just like that I knew it was all going to be alright. I may not fit in anyplace and may let down the people I love but when clasped I fit together because someone out there decided to have someone like me and I am walking around this fucked up planet doing the best and hoping for it too. 

Well good night painted blue skies when I'm ready for the real open skies I'll venture out but for now I think I'm doing ok being this broken up because I am not alone. I guess no one is truly ready to face the truth. 

A Conversation between a Cylon and a Drone

            Jumping right into the chaotic mess, which is my life. I have found an affinity with a mouse spirit; I am speaking completely metaphorically because the ironic thing is, I hate fuzzy little mice. Anything that can be killed by a bird and hamburger meat is annoying. I had a pet once, I forget his name, it was a cute little mouse with beady pink eyes, soft white fur... Well lets just say after about a week, he died and I flung him across the room, I ran out screaming, trying to erase the disgusting feeling of having something small and lifeless in my hands. Mousy guts everywhere, eww... Shouldn't have thrown him so hard against my fake sky wall but dead animals are to me like black mold is to a healthy lung. It’s just not a good mixture. 

            My room at that time already had so many memories, but I find in the present moment it holds more than that. It's like now I can see through the smoke screens and charades. I think allowing me to paint my room was my mother’s way of making me feel ok that I was always locked in; painting a blue sky with white fluffy clouds on all four walls was her way of masking the fact that it was actually an internment camp. I was her war prisoner, between the, Great War of Crushed Hopes and Demolished Dreams; she fought so hard for her freedom, of what, I still do not know. It was a reminder that she lost and now needed to find a place for me until the day I was able to buy my freedom, which would come much later at about age 25.
            Now being free feels a bit awkward and makes me an Ellis Boyd outside of incarceration. I find I ask permission for everything from the food I eat to the clothes I wear. Looking back at that room I wish I could have been stronger and stood up to the warden like Lt. Gen. Eugene Irwin in The Last Castle. How could I have just let all those horrible things happen in that house? Never speaking up, never standing up for justice. Being treated inhumanly is an understatement. Mother's Day is fast approaching, I am remembering things I tried so hard to push out. A friend of mine told me she was layers and layers of electric walls that surround her heart keeping everyone out so she doesn't get hurt. I guess I am not alone, but theses experiences are mine and mine alone.

           I never said I was going to make sense. In fact, I pointed out that 'journal-ing' is an outlet for thought and ideas. When first constructed Thoughts and ideas are a blurred into an incoherent mess that only the person with whom the muse bestowed will understand. Now being the storyteller, that is the ultimate goal for the person full of thoughts and ideas. Being able to convey what I am  thinking in a matter that best represents the essence of what I am trying to say is something I am trying to achieve, but like someone once told me, We'll figure that part out later.  >^.^<



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