1.30.2010

"Everybody's looking for a new sensation
Everybody's talking about the state of the nation
Everybody's searching for a promised land
Everybody's failing to understand
Pleasure, little treasure"

Sabado Gigante.

If you are Hispanic then you already know what this show is about. Don Francisco is possibly the single biggest unifying force of the Hispanic culture since the days of the Spanish Empire. Everyone's grandparents watches this show Saturday nights. I have never been able to sit through an entire show but every time I catch a glimpse, there's some fine ass Hispanic chick swinging her hips or singing. Even my grandma falls asleep before the 3 hour show ends.

I have more respect for Don Francisco than Bob Barker. I actually picked up on speaking Spanish faster through his jokes and comedy. I've barely noticed Don Francisco getting older but the women sure do stay the same age.

I just learned that his real name is Mario Kreutzberger, born in Germany and is actually Jewish. No matter his background, I appreciate how he's created a show that unites every Spanish country. I don't think there is any other show that unites a culture such as this.

Right now, and I think ever-this is my favorite model on the show, Alejandra.





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1.26.2010

What I Consider Genius.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

What I love about this movie is how Clementines hair colors seem to correspond to the passion she feels for Joel. It's a subtle detail but if you pay attention to her hair color, you see how it relates to her relationship with Joel. One scene it was green-envy, then red-passion and lust, and then Blue-sad.
You also learn that one danger of intimacy is that we learn the other's vulnerabilities, we learn what buttons to push, and what not to push.

My favorite quotes-

Clementine: You know me, I'm impulsive.
Joel: That's what I love about you.

Joel: Why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?

Clementine: Too many guys think I'm a concept, or I complete them, or I'm gonna make them alive. But I'm just a fucked-up girl who's lookin' for my own peace of mind; don't assign me yours.

Statistics and Requirements.

Today was my first time being on the USC campus for official business. I was there for an Information Session for Prospective Transfer students. Before stepping on campus, I would say my level of confidence (of acceptance) was around 60%. That's an alriiight number.

It's a beautiful campus. The buildings and gardens all look nice and well maintained. I walk around the campus, in the slight rain, longer than I should because I got lost. My directions were based off a Parking structure I did not park in, and ONE water fountain. I walked by 5 different water fountains but eventually found the Admissions building. Every student was suited and booted in USC attire, pink and black beach cruisers were parked in neat rows aside every building. I saw one "D-Bo" looking ass nigga on a beach cruiser and assumed he plays basketball.
In front of the Admissions building was a cleaaaan ass, black Lotus. Just-clean as fuck! It looked pretty legit with the beads of rain drops bouncing off the slick paint.
The Admissions office smelled of rich coffee brewing and the hidden speakers were softly playing Regina Specktor. I waited in my leather seat for the tour to start at 3. Balding white guy sat next to me texting on his Blackberry.
I browse through the handouts and notice African Americans have the lowest enrollment at 7% and Hispanics at 12%. It's funny how an information packet can make you visualize your chances of acceptance declining as you read each word of statistics and requirements.
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My level of confidence is at around 40% now.

I notice a female sit on the burgandy seat next to me. Ugg boots and those sexy-ass black leggings. She gets up and I notice her youthful stroll with a curvy body, hair highlights. Attractive. She dwiddles away on her Blackberry with a Lavender case, probably twittering/texting one of her girfriends about this attractive guy sitting next to her. Haha.
I want to know her name, her background, her goals-not because I want to get at her-but because I want to analyze her chances of acceptance. Maybe we're the same, maybe she's more competitive than me. Fuck it.
We walked through a driveway with Pruis', BMWs, and Acuras and I imagine parking my G-ride here. Security would catch a frenzy trying to yank my shit as quickly as possible!

The info sesh boosted my confidence to a cool 70%. I walk out with a cool state of mind telling myself what I've got to do and how much time I've got to be 100%. Being denied wouldn't be a failure to me, it'll just make me stronger and ready for Spring admission. February 1st is my deadline. And after that, March 15 is my focus. Occidental college is my Plan B.

Your boy is going to Major in "Biological Sciences", Minor in "Nonprofits, Philanthropy, and Volunteerism" and a professional focus in Pre-Pharmacy. Ya DIG!

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1.25.2010


"I've always been considered an asshole for about as long as I can remember. That's just my style. But I'd really feel blue if I didn't think you were going to forgive me."

1.23.2010

Beautifully You, Written By Me.

I can't explain why I need a photo of you to write. We've never met and still I draft millions of miniature masterpieces with you in mind. The grace in your beauty bends my imagination and unrelentingly sharpens my vision to focus on descriptive depictions that dignify your delicate demeanor. Each of these pieces should be entitled after one of your physical features as a sentence with no period and my novel will be named after a beautiful, unknown woman. I can use words to describe why you appeal to me and that's why you're my poetry. The thousand words in the photo of you eventually blend and bleed into a metaphorical beach with an infinite pier, vanishing beyond ships with no sails who can no longer steer.
I can't explain why I need a photo of you to write. My pen depends on intimate imperfections, long brown strands of subtle sensuality, and secrets behind hazel eyes that blink when embarrassed along with a soft pink blush to balance the beauty. This is the way I write-with an attractive woman that I have yet to find, to piece together an entire poem in my mind. So here's the title: Beautifully you, written by me.


Took me 3 weeks to write this aaand yes, it's nonfictional.

1.19.2010

Nigel Sylvester.

Escape From Tomorrow (A Day In the Life With Nigel Sylvester) from 13thWitness™ on Vimeo.

Niketalk Truth.

"The thing is, too many people look at the really small picture. "I'm special! I'm a doctor! I can dunk!"... All that BS... Were you like......the first doctor? Did you invent the dunk? Well then sit yo non-special ass down somewhere.. you're an Anybody and an Everybody. Stop thinking you're Somebody. You're not. No one really is. Or at least, there have been VERY view in the history of Man. If what makes you special is the same as what made someone else special, guess what... you're not special. I'm not special because I can rap. Bitch, please... Anybody can rap. Everybody raps. If I'm special, and I doubt that I am, it's because the shit I rap has only been rapped by me. My thoughts are originally phrased, though no idea is original in and of itself."

1.18.2010

You Think Abortion Is Wrong?

"Don’t have one. I think killing people is wrong, so I’m not in the army. My tax dollars still go to fund it, though (in fact about 21 cents of each of my tax dollars). My tax dollars also go to keep prisoners on death row even though I think the death penalty is morally wrong. My tax dollars fund Guantanamo and Bagram, extraordinary rendition, and Jim DeMint’s salary, all of which I find disgusting. So why is abortion, a legal medical procedure, so remarkably different that we have to go overboard making sure tax dollars don’t fund it?"

You know, MaryJane is about to be legal in California because of the revenue it will bring in through taxes and shit. I bet you Gay Marriage would be absolutely legal if the couples had to pay a tax just to make their marriage legal. Trust.

Do You Use Teeth Or Claws?

Because who gives a fuck about the bark.

Yeah, Jordan Got The Ball Ripped.

Cookies got took. And son was wearing his own shoes!
My favorite two Jordans, 11's and 10's.

Born Janurary 19th, 1990. 8pm.


First things first, Happy Birthday to Me. I'm finally 20 years old. No longer being a teenager means a lot to me. The responsibilities have surpassed my expectations even though I've FELT 20 years old since I was a Senior in High School. I've always been more mature than my peers. But now, it's time to actually reflect that maturity through my actions. I mean, now I'm on the same level as adults much older than me. If I were to mess up, they would excuse me because I was a teenager. Now the expectations are higher and I've got to meet up to them.

The Twenties are a whole new decade. It's a whole new perspective on life. I have a lot planned for this year, which includes my path towards USC School of Pharmacy and Occidental College. You will see and hear more of my poetry because I've got more to say and a new way to say it. I've began viewing reality as it is, not just as it appears to be. In other words, I've been practicing Buddhism beliefs. It's such a relief to be able to identify with a true religion and not just follow what your parents told you.

Buddhism has shown me the mental discipline required to develop mastery over my own mind, how to make an effort to improve, and awareness to see things for what they are with clear consciousness, without any craving. But I'll talk more about that later.

Twenty is a fresh start-away from the heartbreaks, the mistakes, regrets. I've grown and the only reason I've grown is because I learned from all those mistakes and made sure nothing carried over to a new year. No distractions. Right now, the most important things are getting accepted to USC/Occidental and my poetry. I will be earning my Associates of Science Degree in the Summer.

Then there's the 2010 MLB World Series at Angels Stadium, along with the Angels winning their Division again. Oh yeah, The Laker's will reunite the brothers- Pete and REPEAT!! Maybe I can catch a Mos Def or MF Doom concert/show this year.

S Dot Jo.

1.14.2010

"And Then Mistifying The Whole Process..."

Tyler Durden.

"Warning: If you are reading this then this warning is for you. Every word you read of this useless fine print is another second off your life. Don't you have other things to do? Is your life so empty that you honestly can't think of a better way to spend these moments? Or are you so impressed with authority that you give respect and credence to all that claim it? Do you read everything you're supposed to read? Do you think every thing you're supposed to think? Buy what you're told to want? Get out of your apartment. Meet a member of the opposite sex. Stop the excessive shopping and masturbation. Quit your job. Start a fight. Prove you're alive. If you don't claim your humanity you will become a statistic. You have been warned- Tyler."

Quote from Fight Club.

1.06.2010

1.04.2010

Emulate.

"Theres actually alot of colors you shouldn't wear. First of all you're in Bounty Hunter turf and they wear normal red. Wearing red around there wouldn't be bad but if you go anywhere out of that hood you would probably be killed(seriously). I wouldnt suggest red.
You definitely should NOT wear either blue or purple because these are crip colors and once again would get you killed even faster. Other gang colors I wouldnt suggest wearing include: burgundy(bounty hunters beef with all compton pirus), and orange(hoover crips, they beef with BH). Other than these five colors you shouldnt have a problem, although there are many other gang colors(black, navy, green, brown, gold, etc.). I wont lie though, the safest color to wear is white because it is neutral."

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Yeah... I'm sure someone younger than me wrote this. I don't know the philosophy of Life, but it sure as hell isn't this. I see it everyday and it's everywhere. This gang shit isn't hidden or anything like that. Like DaVon says: "I see a bunch of wasted potential." I know for a fact that if these little kids out here got into football, especially POLY, the College Football drafts would be more interesting. But now there's no respect for the game at all. But that's not what this is about. I don't even blame kids for perpetuating this gang shit. Blame can easily be distributed to parents, teachers, politicians, etc...But- I like to blame myself and everyone else my age.

Anybody I hang out with, graduated High School with...all of them. All of you. We portray the image of what life forms us into, how it makes us act and think, all in the eyes of those younger than us. It's like- we are, or were, social idols to them. So they try to emulate how we behaved. Why not? If we, as High School Seniors, partied just for the fuck of it and still made it past graduation, why wouldn't they do the same shit? If we have kids at ages 18,19, and 20 and still living for ourselves and not a FAMILY, then why won't they do the same?

I like to look at life as a beautiful painting handed to us at birth. The colors, tones, and shades are all predetermined but we have the power to alter them. We have the paint brush; paint over the reds with a dark purple, add warmth with oranges and yellows, add gray scale with blacks and whites, whatever! It's our canvas, the masterpiece reflects our environment. I don't like having this gang shit on my canvas so I can take heed to the words of Ghandi and Be the change I want to see in this world.

I have more to say on this.

"Nothing in the world is more dangerous than a sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity."-MLKJr.

Untitled*

First Dove flies hard especially
When she never flew from you but
Never even nested on the branches.
Tree and wing will never be
Two feathers.


This is the first poem I wrote in 2010. I still have about 30 pieces in progress of completion.

What I Consider Genius.



"Niggas would fuck fuck if it could be fucked!"