Table Of Contents

Friday, December 31, 2010

no. 057 [beyond the yellow brick road: my winding road (never look back)...]

"Never Look Back" by Zach Berkman

I've spent a long time on this yellow brick road. I've learned many lessons, gone through a lot, but I'm starting to grow weary of this journey. For so long now I've been able to say that I know how I feel, yet I've lacked the courage to do anything about it. As I near the end of this golden path I think, and feel in my heart that I'm finally ready.

Courage isn't so much about facing fears, that's bravery. Having courage isn't about loving, that's necessity. Courage is about doing something about it, about being able to love, and wanting to love. It's about standing up and saying what you are willing to say, scratch that, what you need to say, to give it another shot, to be ready to let the world know exactly how you feel, and be ready to get your ass kicked by love. You have to risk it all. I've been sitting on the sidelines for far too long, holding onto the memories. Today I find the courage.

To me, the courage is to speak up, to move forward, to start a new day, to make new memories, to let go of the past, let go of hoping, let go of over thinking. Today I try not because I want a happy ending, not because I want something good to write about, not because I need to, but because I want to, and I have the courage to do so. I'm tired of these letters from the sky with their code words and reading between the line. Today I write a new story, one hopefully involving you.

I'm not saying Superman returns tonight, but I am saying that I'll try my hardest to be your hero, because despite everything that has happened, you're worth it. Bree, tonight I finally find the courage.

So I walk this yellow brick road, with the heart of a lion, a mind as pure as gold, and the courage I've been looking for. Funny thing is, it's been here all along. Tonight there are no more what if's, or should I's. Tonight I build my own path. The yellow brick road is winding down for me, and the next stop will hopefully be home. And I'll run, and never look back...

no. 056 [letters from the sky...]

"Letters From The Sky" by Civil Twilight

Why is it so much easier just to put the words out there, to hide behind this facade, to send this message out into the open for the whole world to see, but not to direct it legitimately at who it's intended for? Words written down, leaked out of our hearts, drops of emotion seeping through a contained world that will bust any day now. Were we always meant for this? Was this our path from the beginning?

Endless words written down, saying everything, yet saying nothing. Letters from the sky are what they are. Labeled "to" in invisible ink, with a return address conveniently missing. Yet I know who it's for, and who it's from, for I too write letters to the sky. But my heart is growing weary now, and the invisible ink is running dry. Do I pen my words in black, or bring them to life in vivid color? Am I brave enough to step from this canvas and speak the words I've been dying to say?

One of these days letters will fall from the sky, but none will be written by this ghost writer. So don't look up anticipating to catch an unlabeled envelope from me, for I have bigger plans, plans that will be revealed in time.

As for now I will write my final letters to the sky in anticipation that you will read them and be able to decipher the meanings in the code. Tonight I pen my lat prequel, in hopes that I'll be finally ready to speak the words long written down, without reading, or reciting, but from the heart, and let those emotions flow freely, as they once did before. Just once more, another attempt, another embrace. In eachother's arms is where we belong. And I have to try. These are my final words, the last letters to the sky, a prequel to my...

no. 055 [sesame street...]

"Sesame Street Theme" by Joshua Radin

I love having those picture perfect moments where something just hits you out of nowhere and completely knocks you on your ass. For me this knockout blow was brought on by a four year old girl.

The innocence of a child is unmeasurable. They see the world so much differently then the rest of us, and have so much optimism. Sometimes its just nice to be reminded that things aren't always as bad as they seem.

Come and play.
Everything's A-OK

Siting there I found myself completely dumbfounded, as a little girl about two feet tall smiled at me, hugging a purple unicorn pillow pet. I'm not sure she understood the impact of her words, but she did know that it made sense.

A little girl, uttering the words "love is all that matters." How can a human being so young begin to comprehend what love is? As I stood there wondering she held her unicorn in one hand and hugged me, smiling, giggling, and then running off.

Sunny days sweeping the clouds away.
On my way to where the air is sweet.

I thought about what she said the entire 45 minutes of the drive home, and even longer after that. It's a little sad that it took a four year old to knock me on my ass and realize this. Things are so much more simplistic as a child, because they have hope. It's not that they don't know any better, it's that they haven't been exposed to all this negativity out there.

Her words could not have come at a better time. And her words still ring true. When it all comes down to it all that really matters is love. It's not money, it's not material goods, it's not what people think of you; it's about what the people you love think of you, it's about who you love, how you love, how much you love, who loves you, and ultimately everything comes down to love.

And there it was. The answer I had been searching for, delivered to me by a child in a picture perfect moment.

Sunday, December 26, 2010


Why is it that we
only feel compelled
to chase the ones that

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

no. 054 [a writing in response...]

"Cain And Able" by Josh Kelley

It's funny - life is funny. Life has certain ways to just slap you in the face, and make you realize something that you thought you knew all along. Last night I got slapped by life.

Maybe it was the sweet nothings you whispered followed by my instinctual "what?", which would segue into a back and forth that we both know all too well. Yet, last night it didn't feel played out, or old. It felt new, yet familiar, like I was seeing an old friend again that I hadn't seen in a long time. Somehow I knew that girl I fell in love with was still alive, somewhere in you; and last night was that confirmation, last night I saw her.

Four hours of what may have been the happiest I've felt in a long time, ended with you not wanting to hang up. Last night everything seemed as close to perfect as humanly possible. The smiles, the giggling, even the comebacks and setups. My face still hurts a little; and I'm sure it still hurts you as well. But even as close to perfect as last night was, I have to agree; something about it didn't seem quite ready.

So if you want me, you better knock me down.

I guess there hasn't been enough time yet. Enough to fully heal, to grow, but I know what I want. While the courage to stand and tell you everything I want to still eludes me, I know what I want to say, just not how to say it, and I know what I want, or who rather, I'm just not sure how to go about letting you know. To say that we've changed would be an understatement, but I like to believe that while we may bring out the worst in each other, we most definitely bring out the best in each other. Because after all this time I still stumble on my words, I still get shaky hands, I still say everything and nothing, but only when I talk to you.

The honesty in all of this is that I never let go, and that I couldn't. I was, am, and quite possibly always will be in love with you, and I am not afraid of that. And to be brutally honest, the only reason I don't say what I want to say to you is because of the uncertainty of how you might take it. I guess I need to figure out the exact words I want to say.

I wish that love was all it took
I'd fall into you if I could
Hoping for a graceful recovery
But I know now...

It's obvious that love isn't all that it's going to take. But whatever the time, whatever the risk, I will be there, waiting. But I can't wait forever, but I won't dare force anything to happen. This isn't an ultimatum, this is the truth.

To be honest I cannot hear the remorse. Because everything that has happened has led us to this moment. And truthfully, if I had the chance to go back I wouldn't change a thing. I hope you know that. While I may not agree with the choices you've made I understand them, and accept them. It is what it is, but I cannot let them define the future. Past mistakes teach us about what to do in the future. The best thing we can do is learn from them, and move on. What direction that will be is yet to be defined, but I'm staying optimistic that it'll be forward.

While there are things I disagree with you on in your writing, there is one thing I agree with wholeheartedly, and that is that this may in fact be too soon. So until that time, until you find yourself ready and willing, and when I find the courage that I know I have in me, I'll be right where I've always been. You and I both know where that is.

When the time is right I'll be ready to write your name in the sky. But for now I will let this story unfold instead of trying to write it. Until I can formulate a single sentence telling you what I want I have no right trying to write our story. I will let it unfold, and let the song play. Just know that I'll be right there, next to the speaker, flipping the pages, sitting, waiting, wishing, and hoping that one day I'll get the chance to once again hold you in my arms, and make everything right.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

no. 053 [beyond the yellow brick road: my scarecrow...]

"S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W" by My Chemical Romance

"Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves -
regret for the past and fear of the future."
-Fulton Oursler

move your body when the sunlight dies
everybody hide your body from the scarecrow
everybody hide...

I think I think too much. Seriously, I'm pretty sure I've started a blog off with that line already, but I don't care. I'm going with it. Honestly, I think that fear is all in our minds. We give things so much importance, so much meaning, so much power, that in our minds they become so fragile, so dominant, so scary, yet in real life they aren't. I'm not sure if I'm making any sense whatsoever, but I will try my best to decipher the meanings here.

I've often described a battle between my head and my heart within my blogs. Well, since I've written one about 'my missing part' I thought it would be appropriate to write one about the other side of the coin.

If I only had a brain...but sometimes ignorance is bliss. You see, once you start to think of things, really think of things, you start to think about the good, the bad, the best case scenarios, the worst case scenarios, then it spirals out of control until you are paralyzed, looking at what it is that you fear from a distance, too afraid to even get close to it. The fear blankets the very existence of said person, place, or thing, until it is nothing more than a dark shadow pushed far way in the distance, looming over the horizon, towering over a land unexplored like a protector. The very thoughts you thunk up yourself, culminated into this thing, object, persona, or vortex of doom that you have given this sense of character to, that in reality is no more than just another thought.

move your body when the sunlight dies
everybody hide your body from the scarecrow
everybody hide...

The mind is a terrible thing to waste, especially when you start to second guess everything that you have come up with. Instead all these wonderful thoughts have become 'what ifs', and 'can I really's?' The fear cripples us, as we stay back, staring at it from afar, hoping that one day it will be toppled down by the wind. But then a day comes when you can't wait, you can't wonder what if anymore, and you lose your thoughts, and walk up to it.

love, love, love won't stop this
love, love, love won't stop this
love, love, love won't stop this

Its funny, because in a way I think the only thing that can stop fear is fear itself; well, fear and love, or love induced fear. It's when you become so fearful of losing that person, place, or thing; so fearful that you'll miss out, that if you don't do something soon it'll be too late, that's when that fear doesn't seem so scary anymore.

It's once you just stop thinking for a second and face your fear, walk up to it, you'll realize that what you have been afraid of has been in your mind the entire time. Silk and straw, nothing more, nothing less. The thing you feared the most made up of your own thoughts perched up there smiling back at you. You're very own scarecrow...

Friday, November 19, 2010

no. 052 [the blame game...]

"Blame Game" by Kanye West (Feat. John Legend)

It's so weird to be where I am now. I never thought it would get to this point. Actually, I never wanted it to get to this point, that seems more realistic. I hate feeling like this is a never ending cycle, because in reality it isn't. It's this unbearable back and forth, I love you, I hate you, this tug and pull that isn't getting us anywhere. Yet we continue to play this blame game.

I wrote a rhyme the other day, with the intent of posting it, hoping that she would read it. But the more I thought about it the more I was doubting myself, and doubting that the real message would get across, hidden behind semi-hateful words. Words that didn't call her names, or put the blame on her, but expressed my frustrations. I'm tired of playing the blame game. Blaming myself, blaming you, blaming the timing. Looking for a reason for why we're here.

Going off on one another, how did we come this far from where we were? Anything but us is who we are. I don't get it. How can love be this hard? Writings, back and forth, words that we're too afraid to speak, conveying our love, our hate, our uncertainty, about one another. Real feelings trying to break the surface. Yet every time I try I feel pushed away. And now I don't even know when to try, or even if I should. It's ironic, because I want nothing more than to be that person for her. That person to fill that spot that I once stood in, the one to hold her, kiss her, and tell her everything that she wants to hear, because it's everything that I want to tell her. Truer words have never been spoken, now faded away because of fear.

I know it's stupid to think that love shouldn't be this hard, because who the hell am I kidding, it is. Love isn't supposed to be easy, it's supposed to be worth it. And if it truly is worth it you have to fight for it, and hold on to it, until you can fight no longer, or until your arms are ripped out of their sockets. And even after that, you better get it in a scissor hold, because you can't, CAN'T let it slip away. Even though it may seem like it, I never let go.

I guess I just don't know the right time to let go, and mostly I didn't want to. The realism in it is that you weren't perfect, but to me you were, and you made life worth it. Now, it just seems like a game of tip toeing around the truth, talking to each other when the dust has settled, just to kick it back up again. But why? Is it induced by the fear? Or have we really grown that far apart?

I'm tired of playing the blame game. I'm tired of looking for excuses, or an answer. And to be honest, I'm growing tired of holding on, and fighting, because it's no longer me fighting for our love, it's me fighting you. At least that's what it seems like. I hope to God that I'm wrong.

I'm tired of this one way street, so now I'm standing up, standing in that light, shaking that cage, breaking down those walls, and every metaphor ever used. I'm not Superman. He's dead and gone. I can't save you, as much as I want to, but all I can be is me, and promise to love you unconditionally, the way I've always wanted to. So this is me, being honest, saying the words I've been terrified to say, sounding like a broken record, but I don't care, I just want to get my message across. I love you, and things may, hell, will be different this time around. We've grown up so much in the past year, things can't go back to the way they used to be, but that doesn't mean that they can't be better. But the only way for this to work is to try.

And I know, here we are, back again, asking you, and I have a feeling that I'm gonna get the same answer, that you can't, you're not ready, and I understand, partially. There are so many questions left unanswered. But the biggest one for me is why? Writings conveying a love lost, and a want to get it back, topped off with an "I can't right now." And I partially get it. I do. But just know that I never stopped trying.

There are many things I still have left to learn about love, but the one thing that I do know is that it's never too late. It's never too late to fight for it, never too late to speak up for it, and it's never too late to try. Ultimately only time will tell, but as long as I have the will, I'll fight, I'll speak out, and I'll hold on. Because even though we may have changed, and things may have changed, the one thing that stayed the same is that I still love you.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

My Secret Public Journal, Entry #005: Sweet Disposition

So, at the suggestion of a friend/classmate I decided to make these journal-esk writings that don't sum up into a central theme laced with ambiguity and a cheesy song playing in the background. Instead I'll just free-write about whatever strikes me...complete with a little lacing of ambiguity...and a cheesy song playing in the background. I call it My Secret Public Journal.

Love & Waffles,

ps: don't sue me Mike Birbiglia

"Sweet Disposition (Acoustic)" by Ellie Goulding

I woke up today knowing exactly what today meant. I think I've used that line before, but for the sake of this writing it fits, and I don't care if I'm repetitive, as long as I'm not being redundant. But I digress, for some reason curiosity got the best of me today, as I found myself journeying down a long twisted hallway I vowed never to walk again, but this time it was different. It wasn't for me, yet it was at the same time. I knew what I would see when I got there, I just knew it, but I wanted to, and in a way had to see it for myself. And as always, there it was, the empty chair. Her empty chair. Sitting there in the group, untouched, left open, as if it were claimed, or as if she were running late or something. I'm not sure how many people realized what that chair or today meant, but I knew what they meant.

I stayed with the group for a bit, staring empty yet full glances at that chair. Thinking about how much the girl that used to fill that seat has changed me, inspired me, and in more ways than one saved me from myself. In this cliche', sugarcoated room of happy and positive thoughts that in reality meant nothing I was able to find a friend. A friend that got me, got what I was going through, and never, ever judged me for it, even when she saw me at my worst.

So I sat there staring at the chair, thinking to myself how short a year has been. Because it felt like just yesterday that I was sitting in this very chair, looking over at her, and making faces at her whenever someone said something dumb or silly. Or how I would constantly check my phone for a text message from her asking me what I wanted to do after this was done. I knew I wasn't going to have anyone to make funny faces to, or to get a text from this time, but I couldn't let go of the habit of constantly checking my phone.

When I left I felt a bit of sadness, yet I couldn't. Even though the game was ended by her own hand, I knew deep in my heart that she was happier now. And as she said, "no life that touches another is ever held in vain." And even though she was only in my life for a very short time, I will carry the lessons I have learned from her with me, and will always call her a friend.

While everyone else may have forgotten, or pretended to have, I won't, and can't. So I glanced once more at that empty chair, trying to hold back my tears, made a funny face, and imagined her smiling at me, like she always has.

I'll see you again one day, Ellie. Until then, thank you. I will never, ever forget you.

For Sure...

On a bathroom wall I wrote:
"I'd rather argue with you than to be with someone else"

The Blame Game

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Let's Play...

Things used to be; now they not.
Anything but us is who we are.

The Blame Game
Coming Soon

Saturday, November 13, 2010

no. 051 [my question mark 2...]

"Close Your Eyes" by Young Love

I've had a lot of time to think about the past, and the future respectively. I guess it kind of goes against how I usually think, keeping my mind in the present moment, but I can't really help it. I think I've honestly been able to let go of the past by looking at it for what it was, and will hopefully never be again (well, at least the negative parts). But I can't help but let my mind wander off and think about what is yet to come.

I like to think that there is no such thing as coincidence. I am a very firm believer that all things happen for a reason. I know I've said that a million times, but it still stands true. There has to be a reason for this. There has to be.

Right now I am happy where I am as far as this is concerned. And yes, I am going to be extremely vague. I miss that writing style, and I am trying another shot at it. I guess its mostly because it's always been there for me. I've always been able to rely on it, feel comfortable with it, and be myself around it. I guess I'm using my writing style as a metaphor, in more ways than one.

I like being back in the flow of things, even if I'm not quite used to it. I guess after using other styles of writing it's a difficult transition to go back to how it used to be, but in a way I feel that it's a necessary one. Maybe my writing won't be exactly what it used to be...maybe it will be better. I'm not sure, but only time will tell.

I guess the point of all of this is that sometimes you have to try, even if you're uncertain, have your doubts, are worried about what other people will think, or even if you're terrified that by taking a step back you won't be moving forward; but the only wrong decision is indecision. The future is unpredictable, which is why I've been thinking about it. I'm trying to stay hopeful that this will all work out, but I can't, nor should I expect something, because if it doesn't come true the way I could imagine it, I don't think I can manage the pain, therefore I won't get my hopes up, but will still wish for the best, without planning it out. Therefore I need to keep my mind in the present moment, but look every now and again for what's around the bend.

I am giving this writing style another chance mostly because it's reliable, comforting, and because I have missed it, missed it's feel, it's character, and overall the way it makes me feel. And I know, I'm not really all that great at writing in metaphors, but honestly, after everything that's happened, I'm glad to be where I am, and I can't help but think of what is yet to come. I guess I'm being a little optimistic, and would be lying if I said that I wasn't open to the idea of writing like this from now on. Once again, I know I'm horrible at hiding this, but after everything, she still intrigues me, she still throws me for a loop, and she can still leave a smile on my face by doing the simplest things.

In many ways she is still my question mark, and I'll be damned if I let what others think get in the way of trying to figure her out. Don't fight something if it feels right, no matter what it may be. If it makes you happy, or if they make you happy, then go for it. Right now may not be the best time for me to try, but at least I'm making my feelings obvious, in the most vague way possible. But she'll get it. She always has.

*Written in early October 2010

Friday, November 12, 2010

You Weren't Perfect But You Made Life Worth It...

Stick around, some real feelings might surface.

Let's play the blame game...

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

no. 050 [RED]

"Let Go" by Tinie Tempah (Feat. Emeli Sandé)

If you can see me,
then you're probably a little too close.
So you think you could love me,
well you gotta be stronger than most.
'Cause my ex didn't like it, didn't like it.
No my friends they don't like it, they don't like it.
Somebody remind me,
when's the right time,
when's the right time to let go?

This is the anger inside me manifested into something real, something I can see, something I can hate besides myself. Yet, it's a part of who I have become. An afterthought of what is said and done. A part of me I'll never want back, once it's fully gone. He is part of me. A part that I had a hand in creating, whether I'd like to admit it or not.

Red, that's what I call him. The hate that manifests due to a chemical imbalance. The cause for excuse after excuse. An excuse for excuses...but is that an excuse? It's not one that I intend to use. The other side of the coin is someone I've learned to control, but the fire is unpredictable. Too much to handle is what it is. A run-in artist I can't catch, picking his spots for attack, calculated and evil. Yet he's grown from me.

It's my own private war, and my mind is the battlefield. And here I fight while keeping my eye on something else, hoping for the best. My biggest flaw is not knowing when to let go. Is he a friend or foe? Is it my intuition, or my conscience telling me that it's time to move on, that it's time to let go? Do I see the actions as malicious because they contradict what I want and how I feel? I wonder as he pulls me away, my grip strong, hanging on to what I once had, but may never have again. His attempts to flaw my plans only set me back, because I'm too stubborn to quit.

His attempts are futile. He may have the other side sitting in a corner, but me, the real me, I'm too hard-headed to settle. It needs to bite me on the ass before I learn my lesson. So for now I rage on with this war, stuck here in limbo with my inner thoughts.

I look to the left and all I see is a broken shell of a man that I've learned to manipulate, learned to control. The other side of the coin...the boy with a coin. Flipping away his dreams, leaving it all to chance, because he's too afraid to try. But it's always heads...the all knowing, the dominant...the red.

Bullied into that corner, he fears the fire more than anything else. His mortal enemy. An ironic statement, a metaphor, fire and water, but the boiling continues, instead of the fire being put out. Red wins every time, leaving destruction in his path for the boy with a coin to deal with later. Little boy Blue, alone in the corner, flipping, flipping, flipping.

Opposites, entwined into an evil monster, my monster. My own worst enemy. But the one thing they have in common, other than their insurmountable fear of letting me take back control, is that they both need to go. While I have learned from them, channeled them, been them, I have also created them. And now, I must destroy that which I have created in my mind. It's's the right's time to let go.

Friday, October 29, 2010

no. 049 [my new old friends...]

"Everybody's Changing" by Keane

My trip back to Hayward wasn’t fun until the end. Not because I had left, but because right before I did, I learned something very important. The thing that killed me the most about Hayward is how much everyone changed. I knew I couldn’t just come back and expect it to be the same, but I didn’t expect it to change that much. It seemed as if everyone was someone completely different. These people are not the friends I went to elementary and middle school with. These “friends” of mine had now transformed into new people that I didn’t know. They became a radical, a voice of reason, a stereotype, a brainiac, and a basket case. I felt as if I didn’t know them anymore.

It took no more than a couple of exchanges of dialogue with “the basket case” to understand what was going on.

“You think everyone has changed dramatically. You think you’re still the same person you were ten years ago?”

“No, but I haven’t changed that much.”

“To you it doesn’t seem like it, because you’ve been there every step of the way, but you haven’t seen us for ten years. You said it yourself; everything can change in the blink of an eye, right? To us we’ve been the same all along, but you are the one that changed. Everyone has changed, but they don’t believe that they have. You look at change as something bad don’t you?”

“I don’t look at it as’s just not what I expected.”

“Of course it’s not. Things change, people grow. We’ve been over this before.”

And we had been over it before. From the disappointment of how much my home had changed, I had to deal with how much my friends had changed, and more importantly how much I had changed.

“After ten years what made you finally come back? Let me guess, it was that idea of ‘what if?’ What if I had stayed, right? Look at it this way, we all stayed, and we are all as much strangers to each other as we are to you. Does that answer your ‘what if?’”

And it did. Even with my new life here in Manteca I knew now things had changed, on both ends. I had friends here in this very same town change as well, and I don’t really know them anymore. We are still very much strangers to each other today, while we had been the best of friends yesterday. All it takes to change is a blink of an eye, and in certain cases, the will. But even if you don't want to, we change, to adapt, to grow, to fit the mold that our lives are creating for us.

And with that it took a blink of an eye, and a few words to make me throw my “what if’s” out the window. And right then and there I had changed a little too. Change isn’t always welcomed, but it’s always there. Sometimes it could dramatically change people, but it can also answer a lot of questions. At least with this change I’d have closure, a new outlook on my past, another lesson learned, a fresh start at something new, and some new old friends...

no. 048 [my return...]

"Shadows And Regrets" by Yellowcard

Being back here is a trip, in every sense of the word. I hadn’t been back to Hayward since before Isa’s accident. It’s been more than three years since my last eye-opening visit. Every time I come back home it gets a little easier to leave again. Even with the memories around every corner, the smell of the polluted air, the noises that I once called silence, I was becoming more and more numb to it with each visit.

I think this visit was the absolute hardest for me. No matter where I looked, I saw images of my childhood. I saw my old friends, I saw my old schools, my old teachers, my old crushes, I saw so much. I was reliving these stories that made me who I am today.

I don’t know why I have such a problem with where I came from. I guess I should be more focused on where I’m going. I hate that everything has changed. This place was such a haven when we were kids. Now, some ten years later, it just isn’t the same.

I not only saw my childhood in those memories painted on the walls, but I saw missed opportunities, untaken chances, and disappointment. I saw mistakes that I had made, and that I partially regret, but don’t at the same time. I guess what my biggest problem with my past is that I can never get it back. Some moments I would like to relive, and some I would like to re-do. I guess in a way I should be proud of my past, because I can’t change where I came from, but I can learn from the past and change where I’m going.

The worst part about coming back here is seeing how things used to be, and how different they are now. From the people, the places, the attitudes, just the overall feeling of it. I don’t get that nostalgic feeling that I used to get.

I came back for one thing, and that was closure. Closure with my old friends; closure with my memories; closure on the old times with Isa; and closure with my childhood and my hometown. This place can never be what it used to be, because the loved ones that made it that way can’t all be here to share it with me. In that aspect I guess I should really move on, but never forget; because this road is, and was the starting point to something much, much greater, because it has lead me to where I am today, who I am today, and for that I really don’t have any complaints. I guess it's just the end of another chapter in this book known as life.

My Secret Public Journal, Entry #004: Medicine

So, at the suggestion of a friend/classmate I decided to make these journal-esk writings that don't sum up into a central theme laced with ambiguity and a cheesy song playing in the background. Instead I'll just free-write about whatever strikes me...complete with a little lacing of ambiguity...and a cheesy song playing in the background. I call it My Secret Public Journal.

Love & Waffles,

ps: don't sue me Mike Birbiglia

"Medicine" by Alex Winston

Sorry for not writing, it's been a very interesting week. You see, it all started when I sent a text message as my evil twin who I refer to as "Red," then I realized that I'm not fully in control of my bipolar disorder, then I went back to get help, and after a hellacious week here I am to catch you up on it. Sounds fun, huh? :/

It started off well. I was a little skeptical about the whole group therapy thing, especially with the past GT and I have had. But going in for one-on-one was actually quite fun, once we got the BS out of the way. Best dialogue ever (it's not verbatim, but it's close enough).

M.D.: "Oh, it's you. Welcome back."

Me: "You remember me?"

M.D.: "Oh yes."

Me: "Is that good?"

M.D.: "How could I forget the patient that brought his own purple notepad to a session, and proceeded to take notes on me?"

Me: "Crap. Did I really leave that much of an impression?"

M.D.: "Well, it does say on your file in big capital letters the word, 'SMARTASS'."

Me: "Well, we're off to a great start..."

Things went well from there. I had to keep an open mind, and realize what I wanted to accomplish. I spent this last week being very vocal about how I felt, what I wanted to get done, and how I wanted to finish what I started. With help from my doctor, M.D. (as I call him, I don't like calling him my therapist), family, and friends, and wise words from a beautiful young lady, I am getting through this, step by step. But don't worry, I'm not gonna just stay on this path and hope for results, I'm making my own way this time. I will see what works, and change what doesn't.

Case in point today was my last day in group. It's not that I can't do it, it's more of me feeling that it isn't really doing much. I spent 5 days in GT, and I have come to the conclusion that it's just not for me. I also pushed my doctor into getting me a prescription that doesn't make me feel like a zombie (seriously, what is with all this zombie talk lately? :/). I'm happy to say that I am actually taking my meds now...but I am still kinda getting used to them.

As for everything else in life things are kinda going slow. I've put almost all of my projects on hold, for the time being, and school is going by sooooooo damn slow, but in a good way. Thank God I got all my presentations out of the way early. So I have time to stay focused, make the changes that I need, and ride this out to the end. At the very least I have the motivation I need. As a great friend told me, "I think it's admitting that you need help that is the most courageous of all. At least that's what I think." I don't think I ever thanked her for that. But if you're reading this, thanks :)

So for right now change is at hand. I have a lot of writings on deck, MSPJs and Blogs alike, so just keep checking.

Love & Waffles,

Sunday, October 24, 2010

My Secret Public Journal, Entry #003: My Season Finale, Part 2: Excuses

So, at the suggestion of a friend/classmate I decided to make these journal-esk writings that don't sum up into a central theme laced with ambiguity and a cheesy song playing in the background. Instead I'll just free-write about whatever strikes me...complete with a little lacing of ambiguity...and a cheesy song playing in the background. I call it My Secret Public Journal.

Love & Waffles,

ps: don't sue me Mike Birbiglia

"Excuses" by The Morning Benders

"Don't make excuses, make things happen, make changes, then make history."
-Doug Hall

It is wise to direct your anger towards problems -- not people; to focus your energies on answers -- not excuses.”
-William Arthur Ward

“He who makes excuses, accuses himself.”

I'm tired of making excuses. I hate putting the blame on anything and anyone but myself. I'm just terrified, or it's my bipolar disorder; I can't use those excuses anymore. I have to man up and take the blame for my own actions. It's me that decided to stop taking my meds, stop going to group, and try to do this all on my own. But I can't do it alone, I need help. I guess owning up to your shortcomings is half the battle, the other half will be uphill, but it needs to be done.

It's sad that it took me being cut to pieces by the words of a loved one to come to this conclusion. No matter which way you slice it, she was right. I had grown so afraid of losing her that I was pushing her away by being controlling, insecure, and an overall dictator. That's not who I am, at least that's not who I intend to be. And it's something that needs to be changed. No more false promises, or big talk. Today I make a change. No excuses.

I didn't mean to be that way, and I cannot just brush this off and think that it'll just pass. Because as much as it bothers her that I did what I did last night, it bothers me that much more. But this is the fuel, the motivation I'll need to make a change. She will be the motivation. Because even though I may secretly want this all to work out, and for us to get back together, I would honestly be devastated if I were to lose her as a friend. So I will focus on that, but be selfish, and do it for myself as well. Because I can't be that person anymore. That side of me needs to die, and it will die by my own hand. I swear it.

I have grown to become my own worst enemy. I constantly tear myself apart, analyze everything, and just shoot myself in the foot, over and over again. I can't do that anymore. So I set off on my journey, to save me from me. I have to be my own hero. With help from therapy, medication, and actually listening to my doctors, I will fight this, and win.

And as my season finale comes to an end, I will do my best to try to move on, and make no more excuses. I won't let the past dictate my future any longer, but I sure as hell won't forget it, because I cannot let those same mistakes happen again, not from me, and definitely not from her. You live and you learn, and if this cyclone starts to swell up again I will have to use my knowledge of past mistakes to try and avoid it. There will be no fresh start, no starting over, because our past is too long, too deep, too well chronicled for that to ever happen. All we can do is hope for a new beginning, a new chapter, and do the best with that. But before that is to happen I have to change as an individual before we are to change in any way shape or form, as friends, or something more.

I know it will be a long road, but I can get it done, I know I can. Until then there is no walking hand in hand, or side by side. I cannot walk beside her on this journey, this is something I have to do with outside help, and I don't want to bring her into this world, at all. I cannot walk beside her, because if I do it will be too easy to resort to how things used to be, and use her as a crutch. I have to stand up on my own. I won't walk with her, but I'll be damned if she leaves me behind. If it's meant to be our paths will cross again, but until that day comes when we reach that Emerald City I will walk my own path, my own yellow brick road, all over again, and deal with whatever may come. If I need help I know I can always reach out to her, but for now, I think it would be best for me to focus on me, and to end this once and for all. And this time I'm not scared, and I will be ready. This time I have to cross that finish line. While she was right about many things, including that what I had done last night wasn't the first time, she was wrong about one thing, last night has to be the last. It has to. It is my goal to prove her wrong, and to ensure that nothing like that ever happens again. It has to be done, no more excuses, not anymore...

My Secret Public Journal, Entry #002: My Season Finale, Part 1: My Big Mouth

So, at the suggestion of a friend/classmate I decided to make these journal-esk writings that don't sum up into a central theme laced with ambiguity and a cheesy song playing in the background. Instead I'll just free-write about whatever strikes me...complete with a little lacing of ambiguity...and a cheesy song playing in the background. I call it My Secret Public Journal.

Love & Waffles,

ps: don't sue me Mike Birbiglia

"Mouth Almighty" by Elvis Costello

"Holy fucking hell, really Ant? Punch yourself! Hard!" That's all I could think after last night's debacle. Rising to the same rude awakening I did Friday isn't exactly my ideal way of starting off a Sunday morning. Really, why the hell is that bass so close to my bed? The guitar kind, not the fish. If you didn't read the first entry you won't get it. Anyway, let me get you caught up to speed.

Thursday Night
-I get a random text, to which I reply "I want to tell you something, but I'm terrified."

Friday Morning
-I get attacked by my iPod and an acoustic bass guitar that is really way too close to my bed.
-I write my first ever entry of My Secret Public Journal.
-I don't get sued by Mike Birbiglia.

Saturday Night
-Here he comes to wreck the day! After hours of mindless "what if's" and over-thinking here comes my other side, the evil and reckless one, to send what I wanted to say in a text...just not the way I wanted to say it.
-I realize "Holy shit. What the hell am I doing?"

Sunday Morning
-Inanimate objects prove that they are still out to get me.
-Realization sets in. Have I always been like this? :/
-I make a major change (that will be addressed in a new blog, be excited).
-The Niners lose to an 0-5 team...seriously, Carr...punch yourself.
-I realize that I'm not funny :/
-With my iPod on shuffle I come across a song that is absolutely word for word perfect for this situation.

So here I am, writing about how epically I messed up, how I have a big mouth, and how I can't seem to articulate the words I want to say around her. Instead I let my imagination run wild and let my evil twin get the best of me. I guess the best thing that came out of this mess is that I realized that I'm not at the "level" at which I thought I was at. There is no way I am past what I've been fighting against (which will be identified later, patience people). It has gotten the best of me, and the person who had to suffer was her. Great job, Ant. So I spilled my guts in a letter, and await a response.

Once again, if my life were a T.V. show I think that this would be the first of a two part season finale. Cliff hangers are always fun :/. We shall see what she thinks, but honestly, I have come to the realization that I really don't like who I was last night, and who I have been (in regards to her). I think I identified it briefly in my Runaway blog (read it if you haven't already, it's pretty good), but how could I have slipped up this bad to let him return? I hate that side of me. I thought that side was long gone, but boy was I wrong. Again, this will all be covered in a future blog, don't worry if you don't understand.

For now, all I can do is hope against hope that I haven't messed things up to the point that they can't be fixed, but I really, really need to quit being this way with her, otherwise she will run away, and that's not something I want.

To be continued...

ps: The bass has been moved far, far away from my bed.

pss: Lyrics that equal perfection:

This town belongs to you and your tricks of confidence
All the pavements for miles around are littered with your footprints
Now every girl I get close to seems to be wearing your perfume
And the clock strikes the letters of your name
Both midnight and noon

But I used to shoot my mouth off
Till you'd had enough of me
Once or twice nightly
I know I've got my faults
But if you didn't believe me
Why did you have to leave me
With my mouth almighty

Mouth almighty that's what I've got
Mouth almighty telling you what's what
Mouth almighty
I wish I'd never opened my mouth almighty
I wish I'd never opened my mouth almighty
I wish I'd never opened my mouth almighty

Crawling round with my crooner cuff-links and my calling card cologne
But the realization of being replaced starts to tell tales across my face
Without a soul to talk to or a hair out of place

But I used to shoot my mouth off
Till you'd had enough of me
Once or twice nightly
I know I've got my faults
But if you didn't believe me
Why did you have to leave me
With my mouth almighty

Mouth almighty that's what I've got
Mouth almighty telling you what's what
Mouth almighty
I wish I'd never opened my mouth almighty
I wish I'd never opened my mouth almighty
I wish I'd never opened my mouth almighty

Friday, October 22, 2010

My Secret Public Journal, Entry #001: The Episode Before The Season Finale

So, at the suggestion of a friend/classmate I decided to make these journal-esk writings that don't sum up into a central theme laced with ambiguity and a cheesy song playing in the background. Instead I'll just free-write about whatever strikes me...complete with a little lacing of ambiguity...and a cheesy song playing in the background. I call it My Secret Public Journal.

Love & Waffles,

ps: don't sue me Mike Birbiglia

"Polite Dance Song" by The Bird And The Bee

Yeah...if my life were a T.V. show last night would have been the episode before the season finale. Everything went on so perfectly throughout the day, and then it hits it's peak, and then the falling action strikes. Last night was so picturesk, perfect in the worst way. Eh, I guess it could have been worse. It is a little cliche' though, that I woke up after falling out of bed, dragging my sheets with me, only to have my iPod turn on with my headphones cable wrapped around my neck, only to play "Polite Dance Song" by The Bird And The Bee, a song which if this were a T.V. show would be playing in the background as I stand in front of a plain white backdrop, recapping the events that lead me here. Wait, wouldn't that make this the beginning of the season finale? Oh...crap.

It was so weird. I was hoping that last night didn't happen, and immediately checked my phone for text messages from last night. Forget that my headphones were a swift quick move away from cutting off my air supply, or that the back of my head had just crashed into my acoustic bass and that I was bleeding (why the hell do I have that thing so close to my bed?). Nope, I had more pressing matters at hand, case in point making sure that I didn't just make myself look like an ass last night. Oh wait...I did. There they were, texts, both incoming and outgoing, in black and white, making me regret that I had said anything. All I could think was, "Really, Ant? Punch yourself..."

I think it was laying in that mess of bed sheets, potential life threatening technology, and a little bit of blood that made it that much more cliche'. Seriously God, is my life really that entertaining? I wonder how many seasons I've been on for...and if I've won a heaven Emmy. Ugh, back to the point. So here I am, writing this when I really should be cleaning up the house, wondering what the hell could be next. I mean, seriously, if last night was any indication my season finale could just be right around the corner. Eek.

I mean, I can sit here and type this up and feel ridiculous as hell about it. Why is it so fucking hard just to say, "Hi, I still care about you, you know, as more than a friend. Do you still care about me the same way? And if so, what are we gonna do about it?" That seemed a lot easier than, "I really want to tell you something, but I'm terrified." Way to sugarcoat it! Seriously Ant, punch yourself...

I'm just not sure what to do anymore. The anticipation is killing me. I think knowing would make this a whole hell of a lot easier, you know? Instead of feeling like I'm putting my life on hold. I guess I can't realistically do that anymore. So I figuratively press play, and see what happens. Season finale time! I just hope my life is more like one of those reality based shows, and not so much like Degrassi. I sure hope no one dies before the end of this season. Yeah, that would suck. :/

ps: Italicized (or however you spell it) text = me thinking out loud. Just thought I'd throw that out there ;D

no. 047 [my broken record trainwreck...]

"17" by Sky Ferreira

Girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice...or so they say. Now I think it would be best if I stated that this writing is not meant in a negative light. I feel almost bad writing this, but part of me feels that it needs to be done. You see, if you see something that's wrong sometimes its good to bring it to someone's attention. But the way I look at it, you might as well kill two birds with one stone. The pen is mightier than the sword, but I don't mean this to cut, but rather to leave a little bit of a scratch, or maybe even a scar. A scar that will hopefully fade away as you grow up...that is if that ever happens.

this is a lullaby, not intended to make you cry,
but to open up your eyes,

and in this lullaby you got to do right,
before you die...
before you die

It's a shame how a single sentence can change your entire opinion about someone. Loose lips sink ships, and for all intents and purposes that Titanic sits broken in half at the bottom of the Atlantic, along with everything good I ever thought about that once contender, now throwing the fight. But even cliche' lyrics can't do it justice, the feeling of disappointment, the let down, because I thought she could make me forget. You could never quite get over that bar, could you?

A kiss, a kiss, a kiss is the infraction that got him a lifelong ban. Comparatively I thought it was ridiculous, more so now than ever, but she plays by her own rules, rules that she makes up as she goes along. Because God forbid that she's wrong. No, not her. You see, in her mind she is the victim. A victim of circumstance, a victim of society, too bad she can't see that she's a victim of her own doing.

mom and dad they don't seem to understand...

Emails from a worried mother are now seen in a new light. Words once said negated by 360 remarks. Hypocrisy looks good on you my dear, but I don't quite think it matches your eyes. Deep down I still see some good in her, but then again the same exact thing was said about Darth Vader.
I wonder how much longer she can get away with her dirty little secret, until it catches up to her, and makes her see what I do. Keep this up and you will never be a real girl, you'll just stay as plastic as you are. I'm sorry my dear, but your nose is growing. It's a shame though, because you're the one that put yourself into that category, no one else.

If you have to start a text with "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you" chances are that you are in fact bothering me. I'm sorry, but I don't deal with hypocrites anymore. Ignored is what you are, but don't fret, I have a "call me when you grow up" policy. You'll of course have to meet the requirements first. Good luck with that.

Now I know, this writing may sound a bit childish and harsh, but hopefully in doing so she'll be able to relate. I will refrain from third grade phrases, because once again this isn't intended to make you cry, but to open up your eyes. Open your eyes to how ridiculous you sound, how you are NOT the victim, how dumb you are being. You tell me how much you hate it there, then flip the script on Facebook. Hypocrisy thy name is you. Yet you wonder why your mother worries when you yourself are waiting for possible life changing news. Wake up and smell the stupid, girl. It's your own game, yet you're losing. As for me...I've grown tired of this game a long time ago.

she said she doesn't need anyone at all
they say shes living way too fast
i wonder how long she can last before she the ground

It seems that everyone knows but you. Maybe its your social awkwardness, but who knows. All I know is that I've said it before, I don't need a project; I don't want to fix you. And you my dear are just not worth the effort. Not after this. I can only hope that this stuck. Because this is the last line I'll write about who I don't want to write about anymore.

And with that she becomes a figment of the past, with an X through the Y & Z, metaphorically crossing her off that list of possible champions. Shame really, she seemed to show promise. I guess promise isn't something she can keep...

I guess until she realizes her ways she'll always remain that childish little hypocrite, that hot mess. Poor girl. She used to be the one that could make me smile, but now, now she's just my broken record trainwreck.

ba ba ba di da da da da da
ba ba ba di da da da da da
ba ba ba di da da da da da
ba ba ba di da da da da da

ps: dead sharks are never funny...

Thursday, October 21, 2010

no. 046 [it's just a matter of time...]

"A Matter Of Time" by Mike Posner

tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock


"The only reason for time is so that everything doesn't happen at once." -Albert Einstein

Time is tricky. When is it too much? When is it too little? Why can time be so loosely defined by individuals, yet be so black and white? I've been thinking a lot about time over the past few weeks (as if you couldn't tell). I'm not really sure why it is that I'm fascinated with it. Maybe it's the idea of time being circular, as in it repeats itself, both in the numerical sense, and so much more, and I have found myself at the rounded tip once again. Maybe it's the idea of change, progress, or second chances that has my wheels turning. Whatever it is...


When it comes down to it everything is about time. Time to prepare, time to grow, time to adapt, time to change, time to learn, time to accomplish, time to waste, time to try again, or my favorite, that the truth will be revealed in time. True intentions, agendas, personalities, character, will all be divulged in time.


Whether that is good or bad is yet to be seen. It's just a matter of time, for only time will tell. But one can be hopeful, right? But how much time do you sit on the sidelines, being hopeful? When is the time right? When is it right to make your move, to try again, to say something, to quit wasting time? TICK...TOCK...TICK...TOCK...time just passes me by...correction...time just passes us by.

Time can be your ally as much as it can be your enemy. You just have to know how to use it. It's said that time heals all wounds, yet why does this hurt so much? I think I should be healed by now. Hasn't enough time passed for me to have healed, to have mustered up enough courage to take that chance? But what's stopping me? Maybe it's just not the right time, maybe not enough time has passed by, maybe too much time has passed by...or maybe it's someone else. The only thing that is certain is that by sitting here, thinking about it, contemplating it, writing about it, that time just keeps on ticking, ticking, ticking, and that opportunity is slipping, slipping, slipping away...


Will the walls be brought down with good intentions? Will what's in her heart finally be revealed? Will this all be worth it? Or will everything just slowly tick away? I guess once again only time will tell. But I have to hold on to hope, build that courage, and dive in, because...

tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock

Saturday, September 25, 2010

no. 045 [runaway (let's have a toast)...]

"Runaway (Single Version)" by Kanye West (Feat. Pusha T)

“And you’d do well to stay away from her. All she does is talk about how you're pathetic and desperate, while she texts at least three other guys.”
"You think if she wasn't such a good lay that I'd care? No."

"He said he'd rather sleep with me than talk to me."

"You see, this is why I don't do relationships. You only end up getting hurt."

"Why do you even care about her? All she does is break your heart."

"Maybe that's what you need. Maybe you need to have your heart broken."

"What does your heart tell you to do?"

"Maybe you should spend less time caring about what others think, and start giving a fuck about what you feel."

"If it's meant to be, love will find a way."

"I love you was never a lie when it came to you."

"...I miss you."

And I always find,
Yeah, I always find somethin' wrong

You been puttin' up with my shit just way too long
I'm so gifted at findin' what I don't like the most
So I think it's time for us to have a toast

It's hard to look back at the past with an open mind. To examine everything. What happened, why it did, what you did wrong, what I did wrong. I think in doing so I learned not to be a hypocrite. I was mad at you for always playing the victim...but what the hell was I doing? I put the blame on you, because it was easier than trying to see what I did wrong.

Hot and cold tendencies, mixed with bipolar sensibilities, chased in ambiguity...from what my tongue was too scared to let slip, what my heart was terrified to admit, but what my pen was so quick to persist, words spoken that would eventually have a hand in ending the strife, cloaked in uncertainty and a phrase that could cut like a linoleum knife. The same knife I would find in my back on that night, the night a year ago today that you ran out of my life.

Stupidly and arrogantly I knew, but didn't care. I thought they were no competition, my ego boosted by "I love you"'s and "I need you"'s. Frankly, I thought they were no competition because we were in love. But even that wasn't strong enough to outlast the pain, the confusion, the fear. And with that, and my actions, my words, my uncertainty, I became one of them.

Let's have a toast for the douchebags,
Let's have a toast for the assholes,
Let's have a toast for the scumbags,
Every one of them that I know
Let's have a toast for the jerkoffs
That'll never take work off
Baby, I got a plan
Run away fast as you can

I became the very thing I hated. I became one of those boys. The assholes that would rather sleep with you than talk to you. I was suddenly in the same category as the guy who would only fight for you because you were a good lay. However, I wasn't amongst the ranks of these douche-bags and assholes because you put me there...I did that all on my own.

Maybe I wasn't like that during our final run, but lord knows I was in the past. How much did I make your heart ache? How many times did I leave you breathless, and not in the good way? How many times did I make you cry?

CDs amongst CDs of songs that could chronicle every moment of our struggle, our story, our love, at least half of which were sad, if not more. Why? Not because you fucked up. Not because you gave up. But because we fucked it up.

A relationship can only work when the two people involved are willing to work and fight for it. Well, a relationship can only epically fail when both involved help it get to that point. We were scared, young, stupid, and inexperienced in the phenomenon we know as love.

So I stand here, admitting to my faults, because I'm tired of putting the blame on just you, when I know I had a hand in it as well. And even I didn't try. Because that night I too ran away. I'm not perfect. I'm no Superman. All I can be is just me. And to be honest, that's not what I was with you 100% of the time. Lord knows I tried last time, but I guess the past finally caught up to us.

This time I'm leaving that crowd. I won't try to be something I'm not, I won't force it, and I will be damned if I let myself be lumped into that category again. Whatever happens, happens. But I refuse to be a douche-bag, an asshole, or a scumbag again. That insincere and insecure little jerk-off is gone, and all that's left is me.

Run away from me, baby
Run away from me, baby
Dun-dun-dun or get crazy
Just run away.
Baby I got a plan
Run away as fast as you can.

And even with all that here we are again, back at the beginning, yet not at all, both at the same time. Part of me thinks you should run away, the emotional, loving, caring side of you. But honestly, you know where I stand on the issue. Maybe we should let time explain. There is no such thing as coincidence, right?

Run away from me, baby Runaway. Run away from me, baby Runaway. Dun-dun-dun or get crazy Why can't she just run away? Baby I got a plan Run away as fast as you can.

As this chapter closes I leave it in my usual style, confusing, bipolar, cloaked in uncertainty, with more questions than answers, more ambiguity, yet more to look forward to, because I know exactly what I want. What will this lead us to? Who knows. Only time can, and will tell. But this time, I'll be ready for it. I'll be ready for whatever comes my way, whatever curveballs life chucks at my head, the highs, the lows, the good, and the bad. But for now I think it's time for us to have a toast...

Let's have a toast for the douchebags,
Let's have a toast for the assholes,
Let's have a toast for the scumbags,
Every one of them that I know
Let's have a toast for the jerkoffs
That'll never take work off

Let's have a toast for what I will never be again.

Baby, I got a plan
Run away fast as you can