Felt the need!

Just felt like saying hi to everyone who follows me. I have been a bit AWOL but its for good reason. Apparently I am trying to be a better man than I can be, and it's never good enough. I wish it was. I love this girl. She makes it hard for me to be myself sometimes, and she gets easily annoyed so I don't have much enthusiasm to write. Hopefully, I will be back soon. Man I miss this writing stuff...

Why?

Sometimes we feel the we are adequate beyond measure. Sometimes it's the total opposite. We all make mistakes. Some bigger than others, and some more inexplainable than we think. We crash, and burn. We go up into flames, and fade away like ashes. Is it possible to come back from that? Can we truly ever be happy? Or is that just a figment of my imagination. Living in a world where all I see is pain, torture, and suicidal thoughts. It's all I see. I'm made an attempt again last night, and another attempt yet again this afternoon during lunch.

It's nice to know that people still care about me a litttle being the ones that read this blog. I wish my girlfriend would understand. I wish she knew what it's like to live with Panic Disorder. It's an overwhelming emotion that controls everything you do. You no longer feel scared for your life. You look into the future and feel you have none. Your whole world stops. You want to end it, and you loose control. I have pictured myself running into walls with my car, putting a gun to my mouth, stabbing myself with a knife, and even attempted to jump off a building only to have some retard bystander pull me back in. I've been close people. I have scars to prove it. So now what?

I get an attack. Get angry with my loving girlfriend. One of the best things to ever happen to me, and I push her away. How do I get her back? Does anyone deserve someone like me? Am I really a bad person? Do I really need a "baby-sitter" like she calls it? I cried myself to sleep last night because I had lost control of my panic attacks. I ran out of tears, and felt dehydrated. This morning in the shower I cried again, and during lunch I ran out of tears yet again. I ask god, if there is one, to show some compassion. I have paid for my mistakes. I'm tired of the pain, and torture. I don't want to do this anymore. Please turn my life around or take it from me. but please don't have me continue to live my life in pain... I can't do it anymore... I'm holding back the tears right now. I hope someone out there hears my cry for help...

Been a while...

Staying busy is usually a good thing. It gives us something to do, and helps us to go through each day without any difficulty. Problem with staying busy is that we usually keep things boiled up since we can't progress or move forward. Everything becomes a job. It becomes our obligation. It becomes who we are. Why?

Yesterday I had my FINAL softball game for good. No more. No time. I need more time to focus on my job, and school. I start EMT on the 17th. Life is becoming real. I really like my job. It's a safe-haven from all the frustrations outside of these doors. We all get along, and we help each other out. Yet I feel like a pest here. I have asked for 2 days off that I needed, and a huge confusion formed. It was my fault. I should not have asked for the days off. I should have just told my girlfriend that I am sorry and unfortunately cannot go with her on her trip to Disney.

Life...

Check this out!

I have decided to make a new blog for 365 days straight just because it gives me something to commit to. Just like in the movie Julie & Julia. It may seem a bit weird for a guy to do this based on a chick-click but I couldn't help it. Maybe I get noticed like she did. Here's the site. Hope you like. :)

http://365self-madepoems.blogspot.com/


Thanks again for reading. Please try and pass this on, and see if I can accomplish this feat. :)

Complacent

Sometimes I sit back and wonder what I want. Do I really love my life, or is it just a figment of my imagination? What am I supposed to do?? I discontent as FUCK!!! I hate my situation right now. It's so frustrating waking up hoping for a miracle and realizing that it's the same dull life with a new sunshine, and sunset. That's it. I often times wonder if a miracle will ever hit me. Can it really come to someone who waits so patiently for it? I have waited, and waited, and waited like a retard. For what? For something out of the ordinary? The only thing out of the ordinary in my life is the same thing over and over.

When does this crap get better? When do we truly see the person we are destined to be? If I died right now I will have made no contribution to the world. AT ALL! I will just be another specimen who took up space, and cost the world 26 years of NOTHING! It's frustrating. Lately I have been thinking A LOT. Probably too much about myself.

Long story short I ended up in the hospital on tuesday with severe tootchache, and a stupid mistake of having Vicodin without eating anything. It gave me a terrible sensation that put me in the hospital, and even caused the nurse to have to inject me in the REAR. (Which hurt like hell). Then I started laying in that hospital bed, and things hit me. I wasn't crying from the pain but from the frustrations. I hate my life. I try to butter coat it, and think that everything will be ok but it's hard guys. I have literally cried myself to sleep like the last nights in a row. I have become another soul lost to my job, and my bills. Is this what life is supposed to be? Really? How come we have to work to live? Why do our ways of life become so important when it comes to money?

You know atleast I have something going for me. I have a great g/f. Atleast in that aspect I am complacent. Too bad she doesn't know I feel the way I feel in this blog. I wouldn't like to tell her that. She would tell me to grow a pair.

Complacent? I think not. I wish I was.

Intensity

Alright it's been a while so my writing skills might be a bit rusty. Sike! I've been waiting to write this entry for quite some time now. It's kind of like an itch in the back of your neck. The kind where you continue to scratch only to realize that it doesn't go away because the itch is DEEP within your skin. Normally I write about my struggles, triumph, and everything in between. This one is a little different. It has a different word to it. A word I only tell to people that need to hear it. This time it's one person in particular. A life-changing encounter which has spun me on a roller coaster of emotions which I thought were not possible. It's that word that needs no introduction but always results with a conclusion. The kind of essay you begin to write only to find out that you never get to the end of it. LOVE.

"Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies."--Aristotle

He was very accurate on this assumption, and I say assumption for good reason. Single soul? Two bodies? All in one sentence? Dude come on everyone knows it's not true. As a matter of fact I find love to be the oopsite. It should be: "Love is composed of two bodies inhabiting a single soul". Here's my reasoning, and you may object accordingly. Love is a two-way street first, and foremost. The thing is that every two-way street is intersected by another two way street. This might not make sense right now but just bare with me. Imagine this:

You're driving on a two-way street you look around and see nothing is sight. No buildings, no cars, not even any lights. Then you approach an intersection (in the middle of nowhere), and assume it's fine to just continue without stopping, and BAMMM you get hit. How is that possible?


Sometimes we think of a street as being two-ways but it's not the two ways you think they are. You see that opposite lane heading in your opposite direction is life. Everyone telling you what is right, and wrong. Telling you to do this, and do that, and date her, and don't don't her. What about at the intersection? You have the ability to make a choice. Do you stay on your own path with people always against you, or do you deviate into another route and see where that leads you? That's what love is all about. Taking a chance, and going somewhere that will take you where you have never been before. Remember you can always go back in the same direction but it's the route you take to gettting there that makes the trip meaningful. We are all going to die one day but it's up to us what intersections we take in order to get there.

"Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own."--Robert Heinlein

Now imagine those two bodies meeting along the lines somewhere. Driving through dirt roads, cracked concrete, oil slicks, and detours. We all have our detours. Yet somehow we find our way back home no matter the route we take. Love is the union of two of those treacherous routes uniting into a one lane highway. Hence, one "single soul". Two souls on the same path leading to a destination which, like every other road, will have its obstacles. She showed that to me.

With all the struggle in my life for once I am seeing that one lane highway passing by me in the rear view mirror. the only difference is that I have a passenger in my heart. She sits there alongside me appreciating me for who I am , and not asking where I am headed. Only taking the ride as it comes, and come what may. For the first time in a relationship I feel a connection unlike any other. Not just a sexual and physical connection, but an emotional connection as well. we don't ask about our futures often with one another yet we are striving at getting better for one another for "our" future. We're not saying what we want to happen, rather we work to make it happen. Edith and I don't push the future, we let our future push us to be better as a couple as a single soul. Yes we indeed are two bodies but together we are "one soul". Guess i just proved one of Aristotle's theories as WRONG. Take that for philosophy.

Intense, huh?

"The most precious possession that ever comes to a man in this world is a woman's heart."--Josiah G. Holland <---Now that quote I can't prove wrong, and if you're in love you know why!

Time to time, now and again...

Every now and then certain emotions linger in my subconscious mind. They suddenly spew out, and remind me of certain fears that linger deep below my skins surface. A place where the heart cannot see, and my mind cannot touch. A sense of absence from reality, and rather peculiar situation that terrifies me.

My thoughts. They drift into a vast see of inadequate dreams. I suddenly get scared. I realize that I have fears. That no matter how good things are, the reality is that my fears haunt my existence, and ultimately do take a piece of my soul slowly but surely. I'm terririfed of failure. I know it all to well. I see it come and go. It happens next door to me, the house in front of me, skips my house, and heads over to the other side of me. Yet I know that one day it's going to come knocking at my door one of these days. I don't want to be insufficient. I do not want to have to rely on people. I want to be on my own, and begin a new life without the everyday struggle to fit-in, and accomdate my schedule to convenience anyone but myself. I forget that.

I look back and reminisce on the times where things were terrible. When they were great. When they were regretful, and also unforgettable. I'm scared. I don't like talking about it. I cry at night when the urge arises, and my heart aches because I know that it's something that I cannot control. I often times find myself asking what the point to all of this is. Why the pain? The torture. The lack of inspiration which my great-grandmother so heavily bestowed upon. Then it hits me. She made me forget my fears. I look back and think about her. Holding me on her lap reading me my childhood stories. Caressing my hair, and never screaming at me. She would simply say, "Please stop", and I stopped on a dime.

People forget that we ALL have fears. Whether it be our inadquacies, or our biggest nightmares. They live on. They grow inside us like trees without stopping until we see how big it is, and decide to chainsaw it down. Only to realize that a cut tree is still alive, and can continue to grow. So why tear it down? Why not make it a part of the landscape, and accomodate your life around it? Why not say "Fuck it" and move on? I am trying it, but it's hard. Harder than I thought. Still I have to do it. I don't want to wake up one day, and say, "Shit, What if I would have done this differently?". My great-grandmother once told me, that I was destined for great things, and that I will make her proud. I'm not letting you down grandma. Not in this lifetime, and certainly not without a fight. People need to realize that no matter how bad you have it someone still has it worse than you. I understand that. Now grow a pair. Admit your faults, and try to overcome your fears. I did. I overcame the fear of being inadeduate, and you know how? By making a commitment to myself that I will live for someone other than myself. Someone who believed in me before I could believe in myself. I miss you grandma. This ones for you...