Table Of Contents

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 bad...it’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,
Ant

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,
Ant

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,
Ant

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,
Ant

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
And among them I CAN'T CONTROL MY TONGUE
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

SO I THREW AWAY THE ROSE AND HELD ONTO THE THORN
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
And among them I CAN'T CONTROL MY TONGUE
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,
Ant

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 falls...to 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

RRRIIINNNGGG!!!

"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...

IT'S JUST A MATTER OF TIME...

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.



THE HARDER YOU TRY
THE MORE WE CAN SEE THE REAL YOU,
THE REAL, REAL YOU...

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...

IT'S JUST A MATTER OF TIME
BEFORE THIS ALL COMES CRASHING DOWN

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...

IT'S JUST A MATTER OF TIME...
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