The Mystique

Dated April 29, 2010

It's a deep rooted fascination that I myself don't fully understand. It's something so mentally and emotionally embedded in me - that thru time, while the minds and spirits of most people can slowly let feelings like this die, it - on the other hand - is a constant for me - neither festering nor dwindling, but just... there. There like breath, there like sunlight... there like all things natural in this world.

Many years have passed since I've allowed myself to embrace the memories of yesteryear... though each day I've lived in its becoming... so sprouted from a short-lived time in the presence of something so moving, so... perfect... that to this day, I cannot ration myself to move beyond it.

Oh how great things have been since its passing. But even then, it is my constant. Its reminder, both my joy and my sorrow... that even photos, past and present, are capable of producing smiles and inducing tears.

About A Boy

He sat there like a tethered hummingbird, perched silently on the shoulder of imagination, struggling to sing its lovely song. The soothing lullabies he desired to loudly expel into the recesses of the world were muted by the lack of light and air – but not of audience. He was weighted, bound by the shackles of earthly responsibilities, and a societal pressure to not only consume the bread and butter, but to be consumed by all of the temporary fulfillments it promised to deliver.

He sought spiritual contentment, if only by the means of intellectual dialogue, penned contemplations that guaranteed a peacefully orgasmic release of the pressure and stress that came with earthly riches – material possessions he knew he could do without.

The glass which sat on the sill of his window fell abruptly onto the ground. That damn cat he nurtured playfully - toyed with the concept of gravity – and with one swing of his paw, a majestic array of glass reflected a dozen images of himself and the world around him. With a loud thud and gasp of air, he suddenly felt free. The delightful patterns of a shattered glass reflected the rising sun, and like geneses, the darkness slowly faded, and there were no longer shades of gray to confuse his colorful spirit. Like geneses, there was light. Like geneses, there was a new becoming.

The world was his. He knew it. All things lovely, all things kind, and all things unknown would be his catalyst. He sat there, perched silently on the shoulder of imagination… and began to write again.

Has it REALLY been 6 months?

I'm still alive!

Having absolutely zero access to the internet outside of work hasn't allowed for much leisure surfing, but it has saved me from a lot of wasted hours stalking celebrities online - and consequently, has also cut back on my ability to blog about life and all its quirks!

But it's autumn now - the best of 4 seasons - and there's no better time for me to give a quick hello!

SO MUCH has happened in 6 months that it feels as though everything has come into full circle... Lakers season came and went - and voila, it's here again! I already have the 08-09 schedule pinned up in my humbly decorated cubicle... My apartment is as comfortable as can be, and its awesome location has catered to my pallet, and has given me the pleasure of entertaining a handful of overnight guests... Work is still exciting, and my commute is still the best part of my day (weird, right?)... I still haven't figured out how a man's mind works, but in my mind, I HAVE figured out what kind of man I want... I've been responsibly green for 6 months, and I plan on sharing A LOT of what I've learned about this amazing lifestyle over my next couple of posts (hopefully that will be soon)...

But I suppose that the best and biggest changes stemming from the fruits of spring and summer, are the awakening fruitions I have come to know about myself, my relationship with God, and of those I hold in the deepest recesses of my heart. I have never been this satisfied with life, as I am during this very moment (even with the lack of all my wants). And though I've always appreciated my loved ones, I have never been so aware of how amazing my family and best friends are, and how precious my relationships are with them. How important it is to nurture and give selflessly to these relationships. It's all been so spiritual and so moving.

Until next time...

This Admition is Backdated

I've been consistent in my efforts to downplay your affect on my life. Maybe it's because you hurt me. Maybe it's because of the way things ended. Maybe it's simply because until now, I truly believed it.

But in retrospect, I must concede that you have had more impact on my life than I've ever wanted or will ever want to admit.

A Very Late "Happy New Year"

2008 is in full swing, and I'm still coping with the shock that 2007 is long gone. The last year has been, without a doubt, the fastest year of my entire life! I suppose it's true what they say, the speed of time is directly proportional to your age - in that the older you become, the faster time seems to go by. Truth!

As I reflect on the last year, I can't help but be grateful for all of the blessings (both expected and unexpected) that came my way. It was a fast but fruitful year; filled with an abundance of spiritual growth and self improvement. I continued to develop my strong relationship with God; and continuing to put God first has given me the wisdom to learn and accept how other things in my life fall into place. It's changed my outlook, mentality, and coping mechanisms, ultimately allowing me to be both joyful with everything I have, and content with all that I lack. Coextensively, it's opened my eyes to the areas of my life that need improvement - all of which are a work in progress. Trust! 2007 was very eventful - in every sense of the word - and amongst the dozens of stories I've shared and haven't shared, my favorite events of the year include:

01. My trip to Canada and Seattle with Lisa.
02. Being maid of honor at my cousin Angel's wedding.
03. Skydiving with my friends.
04. Buying my dream car.
05. Getting the job I've been dreaming of all year.
06. Being a bridesmaid at my best friend's wedding.
07. Going to 2 different Laker games (1 & 2).
08. My 24th Birthdaypalooza.
09. Dressing up as Jelly Beans for Halloween.

While I accomplished a large portion of the goals I set for myself in 2007, there are some goals that are still in progress, and that I've carried over into the New Year. And the goals which were out of my own control were at least attempted, and are still things I wish to pursue. My goals for 2008 include:

Continue to grow really long and healthy hair.
Lower my cholesterol, and improve my overall health.
Master the processes of my new job.

I know I say this every year (and every year it's true), but 2008 is going to be a BIG year. I will hit the milestone of turning 25 - and for the first time in my entire life, I honestly feel matured. Some would say old, I say matured - and I welcome all that it entails. My hope for you is that you have an amazing 2008; filled with love, excitement, and new opportunities beyond your wildest dreams.

You Again

Photo: Kurt Halsey

There's something calm, soothing, and wistful about the memories I have of him. Maybe because the time we had spent together was in a magical place, filled with castles and palaces; anti-urban landscapes that humble even the most fierce of critics. Mmmm, I can re-live the moments I spent in his presence with flawless detail. The way the weather felt against my hair, the smell of surrounding eateries… the butterflies, the sweaty palms, the eye contact.

But that was so long ago. And I feel a bit guilty that I allow his memory to resurface as often as I do. But he is my guilty pleasure. And while I hate to admit that on every full moon, my bones ache for him, the cruel and piercing reality of it all is that I love his memory more than I can ration with words. I didn't spend enough time with him to know him wholly, but who's to say that time constricts the way a love develops. It is a feeling so deep and so painful. That every second I think about him brings a heat upon my chest. It is a feeling. A feeling.

And I hate myself for loving his memory this much.

What is your pocket blessing?

My pocket blessing is 'a long drive' to absolutely nowhere. When I get frustrated, pissed, sad, overwhelmed, and mind-boggled, all it takes for me to calm down is a long drive. I hop in my car, drive far, drive fast, and most importantly, drive alone. It's me, my thoughts, my music, my self-rationalizing, and my prospective action plans playing out in my head. I leave my house, drive for 1-2 hours, and drive back home. Not getting out of the car once. Sometimes, like today, I'll run by a Starbucks drive through... but for the most part, it's 80 MPH down the 215 to the 91 to the 15 to the 60 to the 57 to the 10 and back home. Very therapeutic. Sometimes I get back with my eyes a bit puffier than when I left. But damn, something about a long drive - alone - at night - is all I really need. Well, that and my dog.

My Joy

When I want [yearn, bleed for] something - and can't have it - I still can't bring myself to settle for anything different. It doesn't matter if that 'something different' is equally yolked, or even if it's better. My something is the only thing that will be my joy.

And if I truly can't have it, I'll eventually phase it out. Does that make me an idealist, or just stubborn?

Happy New Year!

2006 was down right fabulous - all thanks to a hardy paycheck and willingness to travel. Also combined with a harmonious blend (and unquenching thirst) for church, foreign dishes, and family - 2006 is to go down in the books tied for the title of 'best year of my life so far' (alongside 2004).

2007 does not come without its own set of promises and adventures. The month of March is to answer many questions regarding what's in store for my academic and/or career-based future... and I anticipate whatever is to come. In the mean time, while I'd love to admit I haven't been sitting around planning the next year - I'm not made that way... thus, I've been sitting around planning the next year. Of course, every outcome is dependent upon acceptance letters or promotions - and I've done some prep work in preparing myself for either path I'm set to walk down.

07, bring it.

Photo: Favorite photo from the holiday season.

Outdated Song

99% of the time, I'm alright with the way things worked out. Then there's that one percent - that 5 minutes and 10 seconds of Cannonball, when I'm like - damn.

You, the roaring tide.
Me, the message in a bottle.
A part of me will always long to float in your abyss;
And recount the times you’ve pulled me under
The foam of your embrace.

With each passing breath I float, far and far away;
From the darkest depths of your center,
The loudest rumble of your roar.
But the bit of you that’s seeped inside me will always be there;
And there it will stay;
With feelings tattooed on a badly beaten surface;
Reminiscent of the time
When I wanted you
To sweep me away - forever.

I'll Get Over It

no matter how mature you think you've become;
no matter how strong the fences you've erected;
the piercing impact of gettin a blow of the [mthafkn] truth
never, ever
loses its potency.

Plans

I like to think that I can live by improvisation; but for the most part, I’m a planner. A list maker. I dream, forecast, and anticipate all that God has in store for me. What makes life so great right now, is that the next year is so unpredictable.

And why is that?

I’ve successfully completed the Graduate Requisite Exam. And let’s use the word ‘successful’ flexibly. Successful meaning: it’s done, over with, and I will no longer have to forego my lunch hour at work to study the ratio of an isosceles right triangle (thank you Kaplan study guide). It’s over. I now have numbers to fill in boxes on graduate school applications.

Is my mind fully set on grad school? No. But it’s an option. And if there’s one thing I love about life, it’s the multitude of opportunities that we are given to experience something different.

Is my mind fully set on sticking with my current career, and continuing my climb up the corporate ladder? No. But the income is there, and I am satisfied for the time being.

Is my mind fully set on packing up and leaving for England permanently? No. But that’s why I’m going to London for the next few weeks – alone - to see if I can really do it on my own (less the nurturing staff at UCL, and less my roommates). I’ll be sure to let you know how that one goes.

So I guess that answers the questions that many of you have asked me over the past several months. Why? Why go to grad school when it’s not required of you? Why leave a promising career? Why not stay in California?

Because… I’ve just never desired to be a person without options; with no alternatives. I’m a lifetime learner. I’m a lifetime developer. Innovator. Experimenter. Explorer. And God has yet to give me a reason to stay.

When Lamar (a good friend and coworker of mine) found out that I was toying with the idea of leaving the company, he stated, “If it don’t make no money, it don’t make no sense.”

To which I replied, “Did you just quote Tupac?”

But for me, it’s never been about the money. Okay, that’s a lie. I’m not that profound. But really, money can only satisfy you to a certain degree. You really need to be doing what you love to do.

Right now, I love what I do. But who’s to say that I’ll love it three months down the line? I can plan all I want, but my emotions and my desires are completely, without a doubt, unpredictable.

Wistful

It’s this type of weather – rain, lightning, thunder – that for some odd reason, successfully manages to access and procure the most nostalgic of my emotions. Perhaps it’s why I love autumn so much; it’s something in the crisp air that leaves a wistful desire, a sentimental yearning, for me to embrace the memory of a former time in my life.

Going Nowhere

Every time another friend leaves to explore the world, I want to take a harpoon to my college diploma and pretend that I'm not qualified for anything that requires an education... or deodorant; JUST so that I could convince myself that I am brave enough to become a minimalist in New Zealand - or some place equally fascinating.

23 Isn't "Old"

Well, looks like I've made it to 23! I’m not going to sit here and pretend that “23” is old. To be 23, is to be fabulously young! And any of my peers who declare otherwise are, safe to say, completely delusional.

Twenty three is to be completely void of any distraction that may prevent me from spreading my wings.

Twenty three is living out all of my wildest dreams, and not leaving it to fate or to the future, to jump on a plane in order to find myself. Why wait until tomorrow? Tomorrow is a concept; a vague and unpromising entity on the brim of thought that shrivels into nothingness when doused with the torrent of cold truth that you might not be here tomorrow (it’s my mantra).

Twenty three is being exactly where I thought I’d be. Over the years, I’ve been so blessed. I’ve climbed trees that have swayed through summer breezes, trees that have seen the darkest of nights. And there I’ve sat, upon their highest of branches, perched from my castle in the clouds, feeling in all the world as if I were Cinderella. In the deepest corridors of my heart, I’m still that same girl. The only real difference between that child and her grown-up self is the complexity of her coping mechanisms. She still grows the same brown hair, cries the same tears.

Twenty three is too young to pretend that I have enough wisdom to marry, mother, and domesticate. How can I be all of that when I haven’t lived out all of the uncompromising promises I’ve made to myself over the years (which require full, encompassing selfishness)? Find myself first, define my relationship with God first, then maybe I’ll start to dab on those thoughts.

To embrace my youth, and to take my time in this amazing era called ‘early twenties,’ is a choice that is all my own. Soak in every last drop! I raise my glass to an amazing 23rd year of life… and my new mantra ‘free to be 23!”

Dear Maker

i get it
i finally get it
im where you want me to be
im where im supposed to be
living beautifully and free
living fruitfully with glee
living high
living life
given chances to do right
to laugh, to dance, to cry
and all the world ill tell
its good to smoke that which you sell

and theres a reason why im here
why im single
why im short
why ive loved and why ive hurt
why my skin is darker than hers
why my skin is lighter than hers
why i grow long hair
then decide to cut it all
and still am able to stand tall, erect
because i know that i am beautiful
even if only in your eyes

and theres a reason for my path
where ive been and where im going
what ive seen and what ill see
who ive met and have held close
who ive met and have let go
who ive met and who ive shared
a long kiss, a long embrace
or even just a smile
and theres a reason for my path
where ive been and where im going
where ive been and want to be
take me there again if its your will
for me

California

I wish that I had felt something profound when I saw the Los Angeles skyline as the plane broke through the clouds (or smog) during our descent - I figured it would give me something witty or deep to write about when I got home. But all I could think about was how different LA was from everything that I've seen these past couple of weeks... and that I was home.

Dear Special

Disclaimer: This is not meant to be a sentimental post. I can write about it because it's really funny... and i think it'll help me stop thinking about you.

Reasons why I can't be with you:
You're an elitist and that's always pissed me off.
You're still in college, therefore still have wild oats to sew.
You talk smack about UCR. Jerk.
You once asked me to make out with your friend. WTF?
You take really bad pictures that prompt us to call you "special".
I pushed you away, and I'm ashamed of that.

Reasons why I'd love to be with you:
I wanted you at first sight.
You would always wear my favorite shirt on you. For me.
You're smart, sweet, and dance really well for a white boy.
You wear cardigan sweaters.
You kiss the best. Hands down.
You wanted me, even when I wanted someone else.
You told me 'he doesn't know what he's missing'.
You held me.
You're younger, and in my book, that's hot.

Where we went wrong:
I picked him over you.
I tried to make you jealous. You tried to make me jealous.
Time began to run out, and we were finally just friends.
Then I realized you still liked me. I liked you back.
I didn't climb up to your bunk bed.
I didn't keep in touch. Now you're leaving.

Maybe in another life...

Torn

Perhaps it’s the buzz of a propeller, or squirm of a nervous novice that causes me to engage in nostalgia, but it’s during those moments when I sit perched upon a leather chair at the departure terminal, when I am reminded of my grandest adventures. The best and finest details of a memory come bellowing through my mind like the great ore of a tide that pulls me under, and continues to ring in my ears even after I’ve resurfaced.

But like all good things, all such journeys have an acute downside.

With worldly experiences comes the excitement of all things new, of all things untried. And as I experience more, know more, and conquer the tinges of fear that lurk within me, I only find that I know less about what I want to do next with my life. Yes, I’m on an amazing path to safety: great job, great potential at job, great lifestyle that accompanies great job. But with every new trip I make & every new culture I experience, I continue to unveil a spectrum of opportunities that make the ‘safe path’ pale in comparison. I become more aware of the various combinations of circumstance, and begin to list the opportunity costs of committing to a career so soon in life. And perhaps this is one of those subjects that I’ve completely over-thought; but with this relativity, I grow more and more ambivalent towards my career (even if I love my job as is). It’s that ripping sensation of love-hate and pros-cons. There is no longer an academic template to follow to make life infinitely easier. No mold, no default, no tangible or marketable item to tell me what needs to be done next. You’d think that the more I discover, the more questions I answer about myself (which is true in a sense); but conversely, the more I discover, the more questions I ask. And as contradictory as the two may seem, I’m almost certain that there’s a correlation between knowledge and confusion.

I will never desire to know less about the world in order to love and appreciate what I know now, because I will never cease to love what I’ve always known. And with every runway landing, I never expect to return to the intimacy of what was there before I left. I’ve learned that the world has so many facets that have allowed me to conclude that life is not one-dimensional. And if that means that I’ll have to answer a new question about myself every single day of my life ~ it’ll be more than worth it. It’s the frightening acuity of not knowing what next year will be like, that sharpens even the dullest of my senses.

Me & Misses Jones

Emotional Exhibitionist, please make your way to the stage…

It’s probable that my love affair with Bridget Jones (and her diary) is derived by the eerie (and feminine) commonalities reflected between her character and myself. No, I’m not blond and pudgy; but I am (or can be) a bit: neurotic, obsessive, emotional, weak, strong, and purveyor of cinematic romance (or at least the prospect of having one). But unlike Miss Jones, I’m equipped with something she never had during her stint as a single woman: content-ness.

Bridget was always waiting, dreaming, and longing even ~ for the next big thing. She wanted a better job. She wanted Daniel Cleaver. Then she wanted Mark Darcy. When they finally coupled, she waited and waited for him to propose his hand in marriage! You see, she was always waiting for the next big thing! All the while afraid that it would never come.

And how am I different? Because on average, I acknowledge at least 10 moments a day that I consider being perfect. I don’t need to wait for the next big thing to feel as though my life is worth more than can be appraised.

Albeit that the milestone’s in her life were quite grandiose… but for me, milestones come in the form of a first kiss, a warm embrace, handwritten letters, a bid I won on e-bay, the purchase of form fitting jeans under $30, extra long hand shakes, and a therapeutic ice cream sundae…

I’m still on the lookout for the next big thing… but I’m elated along the way…