Coming soon
I haven’t looked at brownpen in years it feels, an after reading a few entries, I can’t believe how emotional I was about my ex. I was such a raw person back then, and looking back, I was so vulnerable. I think I still am that kind of guy though. Which presently, is good for my relationship.
Oddly enough, just to put this somewhere… No, nevermind
My father is a dying breed of the dreamy, optimistic type. He lived his life loosely, and he left his dream gone reality with out a single finger grasping his family. We had all peeled his fingers from our lives, and for this, I sorry. I wish I knew how, personally, I could do this - love you despite your displacement.
I’ve always been liable for my verbal abusiveness, and I’ve always felt guilt soon after. Although this is truer than most, I’ve never been apologetic for what I’ve yelled, whispered, cried to him in fierce jargon.
He brought me up, galvanized my stubborness, and it’s so ironic it’s become a tool to break him. I am Frankenstein. He is a genius of the maddened.
As I sit here, typing away on my iPhone, my mind’s legislation has voted yay to these dismal thoughts, and nay to the occupation of cultivating a new and healthy relationship with my father.
I have little faith in change, but I my agenda has always been compromise by circumstance. Maybe, one day, I’ll grow up just a bit more, and I’ll have no need to ready myself for I already will be.
I want to do good.
It seems simple, doesn’t it? I thought so, as well, but to my unpleasant surprise, it’s all too easy to be reckless with the life you’ve breathed to be aware of. It’s easier still to forget your motives and to over-look the qualities that inspired you before. The music, the people, and the emotions. The growth. But we can always trip our way back forward, love.
By “good”, I mean fruitful really, and I know that the context is still a bit ambiguous. But life is full of ambiguity, isn’t it? It’s sort of - I guess, I can say generally - up to us to discover a much deeper perspective (One that is hopefully capable of keeping us from the tragedies of the weary and the tired), and yea, it’s difficult to do such a thing. But what do you do when you’re staring down the barrel of a gun?
Exactly.
You don’t. You embrace everything around before they pull the trigger.
Chbosky chose such a perfect word to describe elation: infinite. And I want to feel infinite - in everything I do. I want to be a good son. I want to be a good friend. I want to be a good engineer and student, and someday I want to be a good father and a good mentor. I want to be a good husband. I want to be a good person.
… we can always trip our way back forward, love.
i want to love life because i love her, and i know that’s off topic. but it’s too significant of an idea to overlook with the quality of this ramble.
For the most part, the Las Vegas was a success. Surrounded by my friends, I allowed myself to wind down from the stresses of life. There is no better medicine than good company. I surely know that everyone has had their own mix of troubles, and sin city was their big break from reality. Sadly, a lot of reality visited me at the Planet Hollywood suite, but I won’t dwell deeply on those thoughts because they’re useless and tedious to analyze. There was no collapsing, but there were a few serious withdrawals I encountered after seeing those two hold each other. She is not how I remember her, and for this, I’m a little thankful. I can’t miss someone I don’t know. She’s a vile that carries memories, so when I see her, I look through her, and I simply remember.
On our way home, I talked to Jon about Janell as he traded with me his experiences with Shenna. His feelings were very much subdued and unaffected by her presence while mine were a mixture of bitterness and regret. I could feel Angie’s eyes roll, two rows behind me while I drove, but I haven’t talked about her in so long, and Vegas is supposed to be a break. So I took a break from silence.
While everyone was asleep, Jewelyn texted me. It was lengthy in respects to normal text messages, and it read:
“I can tell you’ll be one of those friends who won’t just be part of our college years, but the rest of our lives. Not just paying for us, but always showing us that our friendship means more. By paying, you’re not only giving up money, but the time you spent to earn it… and time is what life is made of. So thank you for sharing a part of your life with us! Just want to let you know you’re greatly appreciated. This weekend may have been hard on you, but hope you had fun with us nonetheless!”
I’m a very sensitive character, of which I wish i wasn’t, but putting that aside, I sniffled a little because I swore I hid my pain well enough to pass for boring. I didn’t want anyone to feel sympathy for me, nor did I want to ruin anyone’s time. Strangely enough, TK, Jewelyn, Jon, and Fredo would constantly check on me, and though at the time I wasn’t keen to their nobility and loyalty as friends, they saw right through my mask. They picked up the bits of shattered pieces I failed to recognize, missing from shards I hid in my pocket. This is only a simple thank you.
I wish I could’ve breathed a little more in Vegas. The most refreshed I was was when we were all in Jon’s pathfinder, drunk. Jon, Jan, Fredo, Paul, me, TK, Angie, Jew, and Nelson. It was my favorite part of the trip, and it was my favorite part of the whole of this year because I was happy. I can’t say that a lot.
I think that’s another reason why I study so hard, why I work so much, and why I put myself in tough spots, so I can work through myself, grow and be successful. Because I want to be able to give these people the world.
Anyway, I saw three shooting stars this weekend. How I did amidst the glow of the Vegas lights, I don’t know, but I spent them on Janell. They had nothing to do with me however. Goodnight.
Dynamics, Mechanics of Solids, Circuits, Surveying, and Differentials. These are the intimidating classes I am taking, but for some inspirational reason, I am at an ease. Of the people I’ve met and those who’ve left, what remains with me are my priority. My family, my friends, and this major. Of that list, however unique they are, only one is independent from the other two. My family are my friends, and vice versa. But my major: Civil Engineering, is the only one of the three that I’m afraid of losing due to my own carelessness.
I’ve lost one good future in this life, and I am not ready to lose a second. This failure, I am not willing to prevail from.
I’ve anticipated my semester’s struggle. I have no one to fall back on this time, nor do I have anyone to inspire me, so I must lean forward, take my steps one trip at a time, and hope that I might gravitate towards my new set goals.
I’m a Civil Engineer. Maybe, it’s not on paper yet, and maybe, I might falter, but I know I am what I say I am. I know this.
For a good amount of my life, I’ve depended on someone to make me happy, for someone to love me, and every time - I’ve failed to recognize my love for self. Being infatuated with my weight and how my hair stands or limps or fraternizing with girls who are not worthwhile are not an example of this, but facilitating my dreams and rooting them in reality are. Someone used to (in)directly tell me this hidden nature of me constantly, and I never listened. Well, here I am. With love lost and gone, I am finally coming to terms - full circle -with what is necessary to live a life worth mentioning to my children and grandchildren and so on.
I had a dream not too long ago about a little girl who rested her tears on the collar of my best shirt. She was my daughter - and she loved me because I was alive when I woke. This is why I do good (aside from well), why I persevere, and why I live. Because somewhere down this broken path, there’s a girl who I know I will love forever even before she comes to existence.
It’s a dream. It’s a fantasy, but I don’t care because someday when the clouds foresee rain, this little girl will bring the stars into alignment. And all I have to do - is brush the clouds away for her to witness what miracle she’s brought upon me.
So, you see, I must.
I am a Civil Engineer, and I am a good person, but I make mistakes. But I will never let it paralyze me. Not now. Not anymore.
A lot of tumblrs are young, stupid, and impressionable. So much so that each one believes they’ve individualized themselves from the rest by the flow of tumbls they submit each day with the random shit they find on the internet.
My main example: Star Trek had not always been the “in” thing. I hate “Oh, I love trekkiess” talk. It used to have a negative connotation, but ever since they added prominent jaw lines and strong shoulders to the mix, it’s suddenly the craze, the in thing, the fad (which, btw, will blow over as fast as it popularized), so all of you wannabe trek fans need to shutt up. Stop giving me the volcon hand sign because no, you’re not cool. You’re a poser. Shit.
Star Trek fanatics were the few and proud, exiled because their nature tripped people out, quoting word for word the trekkie jargon. It was unforgivable. Please, don’t give that diplomatic, “i’m a progressive” bullshit. If it weren’t for the fact that the movie was awesome, Star Trek would still be like Cuba - charted and cut off.
GAWD!
Live long and pretend. Because that’s all people ever do.
