Who's going to be my beach buddy for the Summer?
I'm talking about a Southern California tour, not some punk-ass 2 hour play in the sand shit.
I want to go from Redondo, to The Wedge, to San Diego and back with nothing but Red Vines and Arizona's.
4.23.2011
Postponed Breathing: Part 2 & 3
Postponed Breathing:Part 2
Holding your breath is not as exhausting as it seems. I'm not even gasping for air anymore. My God has granted me the gills to keep breathing in exchange for my eyes.
I still see her beauty and it's tethered to an end that's opposite of me.
Now I need water and forever-crashing waves.
Currents and tides and forever-crashing waves.
Shores and piers and forever-crashing waves.
Objects that keep me afloat upon forever-crashing waves.
I hold my breath not for love, not for affection.
I've devised my own air which seeps in the psychology of her beauty. It does not come from forever-growing trees.
So if I don't wake from my forever-slowing sleep, ask her to resuscitate me.
Postponed Breathing: Part 3
I wrote a letter to her today as I sat in my favorite cafe with hazelnut coffee and Belgian waffle.
Without the proper stationary, the back of the receipt sufficed.
For the sake of my ego, I've been lying to my friends, students, and current lovers, telling them I've postponed breathing as if I have no need for air, it's useless, using metaphors to embellish the truth...
They admire my passion.
I am weak, but I tell them the contrary for only she knows the truth.
Without an address and remaining anonymous, simply stated:
"RETURN MY LUNGS."
Holding your breath is not as exhausting as it seems. I'm not even gasping for air anymore. My God has granted me the gills to keep breathing in exchange for my eyes.
I still see her beauty and it's tethered to an end that's opposite of me.
Now I need water and forever-crashing waves.
Currents and tides and forever-crashing waves.
Shores and piers and forever-crashing waves.
Objects that keep me afloat upon forever-crashing waves.
I hold my breath not for love, not for affection.
I've devised my own air which seeps in the psychology of her beauty. It does not come from forever-growing trees.
So if I don't wake from my forever-slowing sleep, ask her to resuscitate me.
Postponed Breathing: Part 3
I wrote a letter to her today as I sat in my favorite cafe with hazelnut coffee and Belgian waffle.
Without the proper stationary, the back of the receipt sufficed.
For the sake of my ego, I've been lying to my friends, students, and current lovers, telling them I've postponed breathing as if I have no need for air, it's useless, using metaphors to embellish the truth...
They admire my passion.
I am weak, but I tell them the contrary for only she knows the truth.
Without an address and remaining anonymous, simply stated:
"RETURN MY LUNGS."
"She's Got You On A String."
I just had a good conversation with a friend about the differences between a girl having you (guys) on a long string and a short string. I'll admit, I've been a simp before. Whatever. But I was a lot younger then. I'm 21 now, laughing at my young friends who are simping now.
I'll tell you now, it's not worth it and really the differences between a short string and a long string are minor. Point is, don't let it happen.
Girls play that; Go out and find a woman. And appreciate the fact that women will be true to themselves and have no need to impress/front on you.
I'll tell you now, it's not worth it and really the differences between a short string and a long string are minor. Point is, don't let it happen.
Girls play that; Go out and find a woman. And appreciate the fact that women will be true to themselves and have no need to impress/front on you.
4.03.2011
Wasps.
Do you remember that day we went out for breakfast? Our favorite cafe in Long Beach, you loved Mom and Pop shops, I loved Saturday mornings with you, a hazelnut latte, and pancakes. Our seat in the corner, no need for menus, they knew our "regular". My favorite thing was going to sleep Friday nights, knowing that in the morning, I'd be a Regular with a beautiful woman. Seeing you softly blow onto the latte that we shared was more interesting than every single headline in my newspaper, you were my current events, better than the Classifieds and the Calender section. I read the article of you over and over, never ending.
There was that one day where a wasp landed on our table and startled you, I said they don't sting. It wouldn't go away and I laughed. It buzzed near my ear and you laughed. The waiter was scared. I told you it's attracted to me because I'm sweeter than honey and leaned in to kiss you.
I tried my best, and I'm glad you didn't notice it, not to look scared. I was smiling but inside I was shitting bricks. This was my first chance to show you I was brave and hoped it would go a long way. I want to be honest now. I didn't want to look like an idiot with a rolled up newspaper trying to kill it. Part of me wanted it to linger closer to you to use my bare hands and save you. You laughed at me and I finished my pancakes a little faster. After paying the bill, as we walked to the car, you held my hand just a little tighter. You knew. You knew I was scared but didn't say anything. Your kiss that day felt more significant; I loved you more.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is a short, fictional story. I just felt like writing something like this.
There was that one day where a wasp landed on our table and startled you, I said they don't sting. It wouldn't go away and I laughed. It buzzed near my ear and you laughed. The waiter was scared. I told you it's attracted to me because I'm sweeter than honey and leaned in to kiss you.
I tried my best, and I'm glad you didn't notice it, not to look scared. I was smiling but inside I was shitting bricks. This was my first chance to show you I was brave and hoped it would go a long way. I want to be honest now. I didn't want to look like an idiot with a rolled up newspaper trying to kill it. Part of me wanted it to linger closer to you to use my bare hands and save you. You laughed at me and I finished my pancakes a little faster. After paying the bill, as we walked to the car, you held my hand just a little tighter. You knew. You knew I was scared but didn't say anything. Your kiss that day felt more significant; I loved you more.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is a short, fictional story. I just felt like writing something like this.
Pacific Coast Highway.
I recently met someone who, through an amazing perspective on life, restored my sanity and optimism on life. Had to be about 45, a real estate agent in Long Beach. Through his hard work and perseverance, he's able to take off work whenever he wants, he just bought this bike and cruises all along California's coastline admiring everything there is to see along PCH.It's just refreshing to see someone appreciating natural things that can never be taken away from us. Amidst all the midterms and essays, bills to pay, you can turn your head one way and see the mountains or face the other way and see the beach.
I don't even like the beach. I hate sand, I hate that sticky feeling you get after you leave, I hate all the nasty debris IN the sand but I would rather hear waves crashing than our Los Angeles traffic. The beach seems to be the best place to find some focus. It's not all about showing off an attractive body, tanning or whatever.
But I want to see more of my friends appreciating what's around us. Go hug a tree or something. Sit on some grass, drink Chamomile tea.
On a side note, a beautiful girl once made me some smooth ass Chamomile tea and brought it to me before 1st period. I didn't appreciate it then as much as I do now. (Thanks, ElizaBeans.)
Excuse Me While I Talk To My Little Homies
For a minute. I've been thinking about you these past few weeks, I see a lot of y'all getting ready to graduate, getting grown and shit, having the same kind of fun I had with my friends a few years ago.
On some real shit, losing my best friend has proliferated all the worst types of emotions that I don't want any of you to ever feel. I'm not talking about me though, I'm talking on something I feel obliged to make sure of, just for you. Right now, I'm specifically thinking about Andy, Norman, Darren, Derek, Kevin, Thiago, Gian, that whole big group, not just 'cause you're cool and popular, but because your friendship is dope, word is bond.
Since I can't look out for all my little homies, I'm putting it on you to look out for each other even more. I see my friends on Facebook going on drinking and shit and for a quick second, I wonder how're they getting home, who they're going to be with. I can't hold their hand, won't hold your hand but I don't want to see any of you getting into shit 'cause it's what's "cool". I said it then, I'll say it now, FUCK COOL! Cool doesn't announce itself. I've never respected people off coolness. When I want to chill, I don't look for the coolest. I see kids getting into wee, not for themselves but because its ubiquitous, it's everywhere. Wiz Khalifa's image seems cool and shit-it's a popular culture. Drop it. Your friends are going to respect you for being real from the heart. We don't need to mimic music videos. 100% of the stuff on MTV is scripted. Just 'cause "The Situation" can drink and club all night doesn't mean you 17,18 year olds can. It's called tolerance and if you don't know what that means, why are you drinking?
On Friday nights, I want to be comfortable knowing that all my little homies are being EXTRA responsible and thinking ahead. So that's my point to you. Be extra responsible and think ahead. You may not know it, but you've got kids in the classes of '12, '13, '14 looking at how you're wilding out and they're going to perpetuate that cycle. Feel me?
that's it.
On some real shit, losing my best friend has proliferated all the worst types of emotions that I don't want any of you to ever feel. I'm not talking about me though, I'm talking on something I feel obliged to make sure of, just for you. Right now, I'm specifically thinking about Andy, Norman, Darren, Derek, Kevin, Thiago, Gian, that whole big group, not just 'cause you're cool and popular, but because your friendship is dope, word is bond.
Since I can't look out for all my little homies, I'm putting it on you to look out for each other even more. I see my friends on Facebook going on drinking and shit and for a quick second, I wonder how're they getting home, who they're going to be with. I can't hold their hand, won't hold your hand but I don't want to see any of you getting into shit 'cause it's what's "cool". I said it then, I'll say it now, FUCK COOL! Cool doesn't announce itself. I've never respected people off coolness. When I want to chill, I don't look for the coolest. I see kids getting into wee, not for themselves but because its ubiquitous, it's everywhere. Wiz Khalifa's image seems cool and shit-it's a popular culture. Drop it. Your friends are going to respect you for being real from the heart. We don't need to mimic music videos. 100% of the stuff on MTV is scripted. Just 'cause "The Situation" can drink and club all night doesn't mean you 17,18 year olds can. It's called tolerance and if you don't know what that means, why are you drinking?
On Friday nights, I want to be comfortable knowing that all my little homies are being EXTRA responsible and thinking ahead. So that's my point to you. Be extra responsible and think ahead. You may not know it, but you've got kids in the classes of '12, '13, '14 looking at how you're wilding out and they're going to perpetuate that cycle. Feel me?
that's it.
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