Saturday, February 28, 2009

Welcome to the good life

I don't paint towns red often...but when I do, I like it to be glorious.

Zak's birthday party is tonight. Yes, the same Zak whose group of friends think I am a glorious badass of awesome proportions, and dubbed me "Rufio" a while back. The same group with whom I invented the "Bangarang!" and awesome mixed drink. Plus, I'm going to get drunk, and I need it (my pulled calf won't stop hurting).

I still prefer this song out of all of Kanye's:

"I'mma get on this TV mama. I'mma put shit down!..."

Tonight's alcohol is intended not not only numb oput my pains, but make me either more empathetic toward the drama going on around me, or to completely block it out. I never thought I would find people with more twisted love lifes than my own...

(and I still haven't yet)

...but a few of my very close friends are coming tremendously close. Guys and girls alike. It's as though the cosmos aligned this year to do a select number of things:
  • see me graduate college
  • in the same year recession will probably send us into "The Greater Depression"
  • me want to be in a relationship again
  • at the same time that everyone else's relationships suck, making me have doubts
  • giving me a renewed vigor to better myself
  • when no woman will ever even give a shit
I'm still kind of pissed that people thought my losing 10 lbs OF EXCESS BODY FAT (225 to 215) in one week was a bad thing. I'm taking the training very seriously, and even the person I am training with is starting to notice that. I am even trying to reconnect with god (or whomever) and eliminate some doubts that are plaguing my mind...

...I'm not ready to be a full blown catholic again, or any kind of christian based denomination...but I am ready to have a lot more faith. I will need it for the trials to come. I decided again to observe lent. I gave up Mt. Dew (I'd already gave up most other junk food), I started the new regimen, I am giving up procrastinating on projects and there's also one more (secret) plan I want to accomplish.

I had also planned on finishing my new song, but that might have to wait. At any rate, I need to get back to work. Just giving you all an update. Much love and such...oh, and if I drunk dial or text you tonight, please don't hate me, and take everything I say with a grain of salt. Mmk?

over and out,

David Lucio

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

The Countdown Has Begun

To 23:

It's going to be a very Slappy Birthday! This, of course, is an homage to the all too awesome episode of "How I Met Your Mother" called "Slapsgiving" -

God I love that show every FUCKING day. Of course, I won't be the one getting slapped. That's a surprise. Muhahahaha. Now, I'm going to watch my DVRed episodes or Heroes and House, and perhaps if I am bored enough play some Fable 2. Good day!

Over and out,


Saturday, February 21, 2009

"I know you know...

...everything. I know you didn't mean it.

So, we're talking forever,
And you almost feel better,
But betters no excuse for tonight.
You see, it's never been enough
To just leave or give up,
but its never good enough to feel right.

Now I'm lying on the table with everything you said.
"It will all catch up eventually."
Well, it caught up and, honestly,
The weight of my decisions were impossible to hold.
But they were never yours..."

- Taking Back Sunday
This Photograph is Proof (I Know You Know)

I started out with a song this time faithful readers. Oh wait, I do that quite frequently. I suppose the difference will be that today I won't be dissecting this song into the parallels it has with my own life. Sounds too good to be true, huh?

Well, it's true.

The song speaks for itself, and the video has almost no notable relevance to the song. If you've never had a chance to listen to Taking Back Sunday, then you were obviously either:
  1. An alien or a hermit living in some remote location without technology
  2. Not born between 1980 and 2005
  3. A douchebag
  4. Someone who insists famous bands are "sell outs", or that only ___ type of music is worth listening to (see #3)
  5. Not someone who has spent more than five minutes around me, or
  6. Very unlucky...until just now, I mean.
At any rate, the rant for today is brief. It goes something like this - I am filled with pent up sexual aggression, and today I was told by three people on three entirely different circumstances that I should go out and partake in some strange.

For those of you just learning the term, you may realize by now that it's been quite some time since I've ever even attempted this - and even then, I never took in anywhere and wasn't a fan of the concept.

Still, there resonated upon the cusp of my thoughts (and teeth) this urge to seek vengeance for these frustrations...for a brief few moments, I thought that I might actually do it.

Instead, I used a placebo (in a manner of speaking) to quench my hunger.
I flirted with two store clerks, a waitress and a professor...
...quaint smiles, and soft laughter made me happy.

I realize, of course, that my refusal to follow-through on these actions has rendered each encounter as a failure. But, nonetheless, I saw it differently. I realize that I have more than enough charisma to accomplish what it is I seek to do...

...but my eminent failure elicited no more than a simple shudder. At least, it did for a while. The spell of the remedy was shattered when I was reminded something: Women. Never. Change.

I heard (or read, rather) a phrase tonight almost as timeless as loneliness itself. The person that said it bared no ill-will, and meant it sincerely, but it still stings. I know this because, they themselves have heard it in not-so-unrecent-events...but didn't quite fathom what they were saying...

"Man, David, you will be an excellent boyfriend one day to a really awesome girl..."

How do you know?
For all they know, I could be at the end of my rope, ready to turn into a jackass again after all this time...return to a "women are objects" mentality, and the next girl I am involved with will just see the aftermath of whatever chaotic sentience I leave in my wake.

It's not the person's fault I feel this way. I do because the phrase embodies levels of rejection most of us have all felt at some point. We don't all marry our first relationships, or high school sweethearts, or even college couples...and 50% of all marriages still end in divorce in this country.
But I'd love to make love work for me.

I've lost many opportunities at happiness, and the more I fail the more I callous over. Pretty soon, the pain won't mean a thing...and when that happens, I won't ever recognize love when it bites me on the ass.

Ok. End rant. I'm fine. Like I said, if you read this, it's not your fault I feel this way. I just think that phrase is best left unsaid to someone struggling so bad...I appreciate the sentiment, but there's got to be a better way to word it. It's almost as bad as the people that try to set others up with their friends. It's all a wasted effort...and just kinda feels like a slap in the face.

Don't believe me? I'll slap-bet you that It's true.

Over and out,

"The Kid" David Lucio

p.s. it's a borrowed nickname i'm trying out. It's gonna be a thing! Tell your friends!

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Oh. No. He's going to fuck it up, isn't he?

...infamous words of comfort from Jessica about Ted in "How I Met Your Mother". Now that I've officially introduced her to the series from the beginning, it was fun to see her and some of her friends' reactions to Ted saying, "I think I'm in love with you," on his first date with Robin.

So far, the pilot and first two episodes got good reception! Well, with the exception of people cringing aloud (yes, aloud) at the humiliations Ted would set himself up for.

That, and the two woman of the audience having their hearts broken again, since Neil Patrick Harris is gay.

But he still makes me smile! I remind people frequently that he is my second favorite gay person ever (right behind Freddie Mercury, front man for legendary rockband Queen).

Incidentally, if you haven't see Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog (you'd have to have been living under a rock, or really just never listen to me when I talk) then have a gander:

Magical! Haha, well I still enjoy it. Felicia Day does an amazing job (as always) and I can't speak highly enough about Joss Whedon...anyway: sushi, introducing people to my favorite show ever, introducing my Band's lead singer to some music that I was a good night.

Oh yeah, the band stuff. I'll tell you more about it later. I'm really excited, but I don't want to jinx it. The very basic is that most of the songs are already done lyrically; I just have to lay down some rhythm...a cateogry which I happen to be particularly awesome at when I don't really have anything holding me back.

I am currently being talked down by a friend of mine - calling her...uhh, Elizabeth - about making a very stupid decision. It's not one I'm proud of, but Ifeel like I'll miss my chance if I don't just do it soon. Sadly, the person this most directly affects already suspects I'm guilty before I've even committed the crime (go figure).

I have given Elizabeth about an hour or so to convince me it's a stupid idea...regardless, I don't see this ending pretty! I'm all jacked up on water and wasabi, and I want to destroy something beautiful.

Classes begin anew tomorrow. Another week, and another couple of exams. A midterm for Japanese too! Countdown two and a half weeks until the next big holiday...hope I can make it.

Over and out, David

p.s. remind me later to tell you about my new diet.

Faye is a Honky Tonk Woman

[[ the reference of the post title is lost on most everybody I know ]]

Valentine's is done.
I think I made it through.

I partially buzzed, with a chance of rocked out. I went with a friend of mine - let's call her Starla - and a small collective of her friends to see our other friend's - Katrina, for the sake of anonymity - boyfriend's band.

I was told I would enjoy them...and was no disappointed. It was kind of a psychedelic funk, new age alternative. Little to no lyrics, followed up by a bumpiness bass line (Seth), killer drums (Matt? I think...), and sway-in-your-seat guitaring (Kellen and Some other gentleman I did not meet).

Remind me to ask Starla or Katrina for the name of the band later. Thanks.

It was a brief outing, and was the highlight of my day. I want to say it was an excuse to make bad decisions, but sadly none were made! I actually managed to keep my Valentine's-goggles off...not like I had any choice (after all, there was no service in the bar/venue). I thought about it though.

Starla was dancing in her seat to the music, and it made me smile. The band really was that good. I forgot for a while that it was Valentine's Day, and just enjoyed myself...easier said than done, since both of my last two relationships were winter to spring, and neither of them even acknowledged the day.

It made things easier to me, but I guess I'm less cynical than I remember. I wanted to hate today, and pretend like people celebrating it were stupid...but part of me actually wished I was one of those punch-drunk-love fools. I admire true romanticism.

In fact, my father flew up to D.C. just to see my mother this weekend.
I knew he would. It's a Lucio thing...we're lovers and fighters...
...and we fight with passion above all else.

Anyways, Starla said I'm officially her Bassist, which made me smile. God knows it probably won't go anywhere, but who cares? The thought will tide me over until reality slaps me in the face again. CURSE YOU REALITY! Cheeky bastard.

I'd better go to sleep while I'm still buzzing...I'm more likely to finish chapter six this way. I finally am starting to get an amazing character model for Scarlet, and I can't wait for it to go up in flames (though none of you understand that pun). Tonight's dream is brought to you by the following:

Explosions in the Sky - "A Poor Man's Memory"

OK, so it's a lyric-less song; I don't do it often, but when I do, I make it count. Give it a listen...I swear you won't be disappointed. For now, I bid you adieu. I have lunch plans (kinda) tomorrow, and want to get my nightmares in before noon. And for those of you who read my last post (I know of about 3-4 people) thanks. It meant a lot to me!

Over and out,

p.s. if you know who you are (trust me, you don't), and you still care (it's not likely), then happy valentine's day; and I really mean it too. You, above all else, should hear (read) this from someone saying from the heart. Don't hate me. This too shall pass...and stop thinking it's you. You know in your heart it's not.

Friday, February 13, 2009

My drumroll...

Alas, another Dia de Santo Valentino is upon remains a thorn in my side after all these years. I suspect I will be getting a "care package" from my family with candies, cards and the like.

Don't get me wrong, I love those little packages.
But, they are a constant reminder of failure in a particular department...
I hate this Halmark holiday, but it gets me every time.

The worst part is, those care packages remind me of the first season of How I Met Your Mother. In particular, Episode 13: "Drumroll, Please" where Ted (the main character) meets the most amazing girl. He finally clears his head about all the drama over another girl, Robin...

He goes to a wedding, and originally invited Robin. She bailed on him at the last minute because she had an opportunity to be the anchor for the news station she reports for. Of course, Ted being a great guy and all, he lets her follow her ambitions.

If you watch the show all the way up until then - starting with the pilot - you'll know that Ted bombed big time when trying to pursue Robin at first. This being said, she only agreed to go to the wedding (seemingly) as a friend to make it so Ted didn't waste his "and Guest" on the invitation (which is a whole different episode). So, Ted finally realizes he needs to move on.

Enter - Victoria:

Oh, this episode melts my stupid, overdramatic bleeding heart in ways that only true poetry can.

Victoria and Ted meet at the Wedding, and decide that the ruse of "wedding goggles" tends to ruin the experience of ever dating someone you met AT A WEDDING. It's the concept that the night, the romance in the room, the champagne and cake combined with a million other tiny factors...cause you to think the night was something more than it really is; because of that, wedding hook-ups turn out terrible the next day, and it ruins love for a lot of people. So they make a pact:

No commitments, no hooking up, no kissing, no names...but that they will treat the entire night like their first date ever, and make it perfect. Use the wedding goggles to their advantage, and just spend the "perfect" night together. They use the names Buttercup and Lando Calrissian at first, but someone ruins the name situation and they exchange 'real' names.

My favorite part is when they do a "lead up" kiss, because Victoria says, "The best part of any first kiss is the moment leading up to it. It's the drumroll...Because if the kiss is terrible, the magic is ruined." Butterflies. Chills. Utter agony...but in the best way.

While they are sharing a dance alone in the middle of the reception hall after everyone has already left, Ted tells Victoria that he found a flaw in her plan. That, even though the evening was perfect, and his memories of it will be phenominal...he will always have it ruined by the one worst memory of all: "At the end of the night, I have to remember the sight of you walking out that door and never being able to see you again..." She makes him close his eyes for one last surprise...and then, disappears.

It was a great ending, because the plan seemed so perfect...

But Ted realized what he had agreed to give up, and how amazing it was. It only made him more miserable that he couldn't keep perfection forever.

Ted called the bride, who told him there was nobody named Victoria on the guest list.

They figured it was a secondary fake name, because she really did want the night to be preserved forever.

It wasn't until Marshall insists on Ted asking the bride about the delicious cake, that the group finally realizes who she really was. The bride tells Ted that the cake was from a little place called the Buttercup Bakery.

The second 'fake' name was real all along; she wasn't on the guest list because she was the baker that made the cake. Ted and the gang take a cab out there so that he can finally get perfection...on the way there he contemplates what it would mean: if he does this, he shatters the facade of the perfect night and the best memory he'll ever have, but if he doesn't he risks losing the most perfect woman he's ever met.

Is it worth the risk?

Well, being a TV show, or course it is!

The character of Victoria fast became a producer and fan favorite. She was lovable, fun, pretty and perfect for Ted. The other characters saw it too...which is exactly why the writers eventually had to write her out...but they did it in a way I felt was most dignified - they made Ted the bad guy, and he the victim.

It was the only thing that salvaged the situation for me, and I think that's what they intended to do. She was TOO perfect. They needed more room for the series to build, and couldn't let it die in one year alone! So what did they do? Well, Ted and Robin eventually get together.

I think Robin is great and all, but she's no Victoria.

I have had my Karens, Natalies, Trudys, Robins and Stellas...but I've yet to meet a Victoria. And if I had, I wouldn't know. For all I know, I may have already missed out...but I guess I just won't know. The best part about this show is that it inspires me (or makes me delusional, whatever). It lets me know that crazy shit happens all the time, and I should embrace it...

...because someday when I'm telling my kids the story of how I met their mother, I want it to be LEGEN - wait for it - I hope you're not lactose intolerant, because the next part is DARY! LEGENDARY!

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a bass guitar that needs some pre-V-day rockin'. Happy Valentine's Day ladies. And guys, don't disgrace me today; if you're going to treat your woman right, do yourselves a favor and SUIT UP! Because it's one day out of the year where you get to make everything...


Over and out,


Thursday, February 12, 2009

"I found a letter that said, "I'm sorry that...

...You were asleep when I wrote these words down."
You'd think I'd ought to be used to that by now.
Save for a few of those late night episodes,
Missed opportunities, and "I Don't Cares,"
There's not a lot that I feel obliged to share or talk about...

You're the echoes of my everything,
You're the emptiness the whole world sings at night.
You're the laziness of afternoon,
You're the reasons why I burst and why I bloom.
You're the leaky sink of sentiment,
You're the failed attempts I never could forget.
You're the metaphors I can't create
To comprehend this curse that I call 'love'.
How will I break the news to you?..."

- Motion City Soundtrack
"Hold Me Down"

Great song to fall asleep to. A lot of their stuff is. The opening and closing lines of this song were set as my Facebook and Twitter statuses (respectively), which apparently worried a few people. One person in particular told me they worry about vague statements like that because they care.

It made me smile.

I love this song particularly because the line regarding not being able to create metaphors is prefaced so beautifully by a handful of metaphors that could be taken both lovingly and in spite. A good deal of the song is spent sounding like a bitter breakup...but I think it's much different.

Perhaps holding someone down doesn't mean "you're keeping me from reaching my full potential," but rather that "you are the one thing keeping me grounded and sane in the world." Sometimes we drift so far from our lives, and aspire too much to touch stars that we often overlook those things we hold dearest on plain ground.

Some people go mad trying to attain that which they cannot hope to reach. Others, however, have in them the capacity to play anchor to us, and keep us from getting in over our head. They protect us from ourselves and the dreams we conjure up.

Only after the anchor themselves starts to break down, do we realize how much we relied on that person. In the case of the song, it works in both're holding me back, but you're keeping me sane...

...I love you, however, you hold me down. How will I break the news to you?

Makes me melt every time. If you're not familiar with them, I suggest you start. I've been listening since about 2002, and Motion City Soundtrack and Gym Class Heroes are the only two bands I have ever convinced my good friend Sarah to listen to since we started high school...and she's damn picky about music!

At any rate, while most of the songs have some deeper more personal meaning to me, you shouldn't generally concern yourselves with that. If I wanted to express it, I would have already. You can safely presume that (since I haven't) I don't want anyone to know what they mean other than the very basic.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some important bass guitar-ing to attend to...

Over and out,


ps. Follow me on twitter, damnit!

Sunday, February 8, 2009

"Where are you and I'm so sorry...

...I cannot sleep, I cannot dream tonight.
I need somebody and always
This sick strange darkness
Comes creeping on so haunting every time.
And as I stared I counted
Webs from all the spiders
Catching things and eating their insides;
Like indecision to call you,
And hear your voice of treason.
Will you come home and stop this pain tonight?
Stop this pain tonight.

Don't waste your time on me, you're already
The voice inside my head..."

- Blink 182
"I Miss You"

I start with my happiest note in a long time: my favorite band of all time...a band I've been listening to since the sixth back together. I would love more than anything to see them when they start their new tour this summer, and I would give anything to meet them. They announced their new collaborative album at the Grammy Awards tonight, and for a second it washed away all my sadness from this week.

...between heartaches, sorrow and anger felt this past week, I feel as though this is life telling me I'm about to have a turning point. Karma might finally swing my way. And, in light of this, I will be taking a few risks to test my luck...and it might hurt.

I feel I should also add something: I remember February 22, 2005 very distinctly. I had been running track since I was five or six years was the only thing I could do well, that I actually enjoyed and could see myself doing someday for a living. At some point - I don't remember quite when - it became my dream to someday compete in the Olympics.

I kept running, and I was damn good. I made a lot of sacrifices to get where I was when it all came crashing down...Feb 22, 05 was the day I got kicked off of Texas A&M's track team. They gave me some bullshit reasons, but what it boiled down to was they just didn't like me. It shattered me... was 6 a.m. I rode my bike the mile and a half back to my dorm in tears so thick, I fell off my bike three times. By the time I got back, my roommate at the time was gone to his first class (which I felt relieved about) so I locked myself inside and called my father bawling.

I told him I was sorry for being a failure...I was impacted so deeply by this. He told me I didn't do anything wrong, and that everything would be fine...normal father advice. But then he told me two things only he could know would calm me down: "Go call your older brother, and then listen to some music. It always makes you feel better."

I called Daniel. I cried a lot more. He's always been a great older brother...knowing just what to say. He anarchical rants made me smile, and made me realize it wasn't my fault for being the victim of some kind of discrimination. I was different, and they didn't want that, so fuck them (only, the bad side was it ruined my chances of achieving my dreams). He told me to skip class for a day, mellow out, and listen to some music...

I asked him, "What should I listen to?"
He said, "Some Brand New...or maybe some Blink-182 for you. You're always happy when you listen to them. I love you David...don't ever let people think you're not fucking worth it..."

I skipped classes, emailed all my assignments in, and sat around listening to music. I put in every Blink 182 CD I had (back when I still had mostly CDs) from Buddha and Cheshire Cat, to their self titled. I smiled, and thought "as long as I have great music, I think I might be able to make it through fact, they're about to go on tour, and I can see them this summer! I'll find a way to get there..."

Mike, my roommate, finally gets back from class and hears the music. He didn't know yet about what had happened, but he was a little confused why I was still in my running clothes. He laughed for a second, and said his friend 'so-and-so' loves them, and was really sad to hear about their breakup that morning on the news...

BREAK UP!? Fuck me...I didn't even bother to turn on the television, much less a radio or search news on the internet. I was about to try and buy tickets online...and their record label says they are on a "permanent hiatus." I started crying felt like the one thing I wanted to fall back on through all of it, had been kicked out from under me. Needless to say, this confused Mike.

He panicked, and then thought it was all because of the band. I eventually gathered myself enough to explain how it was just another pain on top of many larger anguishes...and that it just felt like god was laughing at me (he has a great sense of humor, you know).

Anyway...major turning point. I changed schools, majors, met new people, changed dreams, started fresh. I had a lot of pain this past month, all culmenating in the past weekend like one big clusterfuck of agony. But then, this...a glimmer of AWESOME in all things dismal.

So yeah.
There it is.
I am happy...
...let's see where this new turning point takes me. I hope it hurts. ^_^

Over and out,


Saturday, February 7, 2009

The issue was never...

...where I stood as a man.

I've been most kind of guy at one point or another. I discussed this with a friend a short while back, my theory on "phases" that men and women go through. They all generally gravitate toward five basic points:
  • The Nice Guy
  • The Desperate Guy
  • The "Lost All Hope" Guy
  • The User (a.k.a. women are objects)
  • The Asshole
When it comes to women, most start at one spot, and cycle through them over time. With each failure, they come ever closer to changing phase - possibly someday finding the one they end up with (whomever that may be, and for however short a period of time).

Take for instance Vada (not a real person or based off one) who starts the cycle from the top of the key: She dates a nice guy, Richard, in middle school, they meet every lunch and smile while eating their packed sandwiches and sometimes even hold hands in walks between classes. This eventually bores them both, so he becomes distant, and she becomes uneasy...she breaks it off.

She instead opts for someone she's known for a while, Greg. Granted, he is the rebound, and he's a band kid, but he's desperate for attention (and this will be the most he gets for some time) since his last girlfriend seemed like she always wanted better. He's determined to be better, and he waits on her hand and foot. She freaks out a few short weeks into it, and calls him clingy to all her friends. She's don'e with his she meets Bryce.

They're in high school now, and Bryce is a junior and starting quarterback. He's best friends with Vada's older brother, and he has the same name as her dad. She finds these couple of bits of information fascinating. She flirts with him drastically, and even starts dressing and talking differently. He shows mild interest, but his junior girlfriend Rebecca keeps him mildly happy...for about three weeks. Vada follows Dade, her brother, to a party and "runs into" Bryce there. He's smashed, and Rebecca is nowhere in sight...

...she thinks it love, he thinks it an easy fix. Rebecca finds out, and she leaves him, so Vada thinks (naturally) we're an item. He plays along for a few days - week at most - but when she won't put out again, he starts dating Megan, Rebecca's former best friend. She becomes a notch on his bedpost.

She cries at first, and then becomes bitter. She tears through any man that dare step foot in her path, and makes a name for herself as a bitch. To spite Bryce, she becomes more attractive, she finds new outlets for herself, and she meets Damien.

Damien is also popular, like Bryce, but he quit football and moved to basketball to pursue his dreams of being in the NBA someday. Bryce and Damien hate eachother, and she feeds off of it at first...she wants to make Bryce hate himself for using her, so she stays with Damien - though he treats her like shit. Eventually, it becomes a calling for her...she lives to make him happy; it's no longer in spite, but in habit that she stays with him despite his obvious flaws.

They date until summer before freshman year in college. "He's an asshole, and only wanted to go into college single for the women" her best friends say to her. She is comforted by this, but manages to make stupid decisions nonetheless. Her freshman year she starts and ends five "relationships"...all with assholes, and each right after the other. Toward semester's end, where one began and another ended blur in line. A chain link of assholes.

She breaks the habit when she finds Jacob, a nice guy studying philosophy and government. he wants to go to law school someday, and his last girlfriend broke up with him over a year ago because he "wasn't listening enough." He'd realized he really wasn't, and decided to take a break from dating until he met Vada. Butterflies, heart skips, the works...he does better. He's not clingy or needy, he's sweet when he needs to be, and stern when time calls. He is perfect...too perfect...she starts getting paranoid, because past experience has taught her that nothing is what it seems (even though it really is)...

...she leaves him, with a note that says "You deserve better." How fucking cliche. She starts dating Roger, who she meets at a blood drive...and believe me, he will be a desperate one.


Like I said, this is all fictional. I have been almost every one of those guys...and the same applies for us: failure makes us change phases. We don't always start from the top, but we make our way through the ranks until we find one that wins for us.

Sometimes, the asshole gets the girl...luck of the lottery. Her loss.

Sometimes the desperate guy gets the girl...Her loss also, and his as well.

The user rarely gets the girl, as he just makes his way through the ranks...and sometimes he stays a user for the majority of his life. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it" he says.

The lost all hope guy rarely stays that way. If he does, he starts focusing elsewhere, and women just become an anomally in his equation for life...but usually, they break out of that rut, and become users (only after a casual trophy).

But sometimes, the nice guy gets the girl...and it can be his gain, or his loss, but it's almost always the woman's gain. And when it's shared, and all that glitters is suddenly platinum, we - the men - might even be phase six:

Mr. Right

Some girls delude themselves into believing that they have Mr. Right, when in fact they have a facade...Mr. Right doesn't always know he is, and oftentimes wonders what he might be doing that's "just not right." It's not written in the stars, and it's hardly what I'd call "destiny."



Why this, and why now David?

Women, my good friend. Women and chick flicks and alcohol. That, and possibly this new string of nightmares (not the car crash for now) mixed with a lot of anxiety.

You seem mad, but is it at men or at women?

Both, actually. Women for obvious reasons, but more strongly men for making us look bad. It took the better part of a decade for me to come full circle twice...I'm finally back to being a nice guy, and other assholes are giving it a bad name. It alluded to my failure (which already inadvertantly occured).

Failure? What failure?

You wouldn't understand, know or care at this point. And like I said, it was inadvertant, so it doesn't even matter anyway. I have a month to get through, and I'll be fine.

Does this have to do with your exes at all?

I thought it did at first, but now I realize it just has to do with me...and a few select other people. More, a fight with existentialism since losing someone very important to me. I always said my biggest fear was dying alone...and now I wonder just how long until I die. If it's tomorrow, would I be happy?

Would you?

Haha, no. But thanks for asking.

Will we ever know what exactly sparked this whole conflict?

No, but I will always lie to you and call it "inner demons" if it makes you feel better. Now, no more questions. I grow tired of you. My rant is done, and I don't feel like drawing a conclusion based on a strong bias against both genders of the human race.

Songs of the moment - Both entitled "Wish You Were Here"

"I lay my head onto the sand.
The sky resembles a backlit canopy,
With holes punched in it.
I'm counting UFOs.
I signal them with my lighter.
And in this moment, I am happy..."

- Incubus

"So you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,
Blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?..."

- Pink Floyd

Funny how they both have the same meaning, but with different tones and ways about it. Gotts love some good irony at 3:30 a.m. Goodnight, God bless, much love and get the fuck out.

Over and out,


Thursday, February 5, 2009

"Did he have passion?"

You get a few times when something frightens you so much about living, that you must take time from your life to evaluate it yourself.

One of my closest friends recently lost his battle with Leukemia. His name was Eric Hensley, and he was a sort of mentor to me for the past four years. But, how I knew him does not matter, nor is how he died. Instead, what matters to me is how he lived.

You see, the warriors of ancient Greece had a longstanding tradition that made me happy; they did not have funerals for their dead, no eulogy was read, no boat floated out to sea, no sprinkling of ashes over a cliff...Instead, they did the following:

two coins for the boatman placed over the eyes
their bodies placed on top of a large stack of wood
their corpse burned in effigy, flames rise into the sky
and someone close to the dead would ask but one question : "Did he have passion?"

I tried not to cry about Eric. You see, I know people who have lost much more than that and have handled it with such a poise that I am filled with admiration...I always wondered if I were calloused over about death, but now I know better.

I read Chekhov's "Gusev", Shakespeare's "Hamlet" and Carroll's poem "Life is but a Dream"; I was assigned to read one, wanted to read another and always read the last to make myself smile (in respective order). Surprisingly, the depth in which each text summed death came back to one beautiful hypothesis...

...what is life, but a dream we dream in death?

And if this is the case, and death is just the deepest state of sleep one can feel, then I could feel like Eric was having a great dream. He was dreaming a more perfect life than the pain filled one he had here on earth. I imagine, in spirit, he would have me there with him...we could roam carefree, be doing Edward 40-hands at parties, slaying dragons and never go to a hospital again (I know he was sick of it).

Smile David, smile. Yes.

As for other updates, I had a nice dinner with a good friend who informed me my "cryptic" writing wasn't good enough. Sure enough, they found out who I was talking about in another first I played my "it's not who you think it was" card, but they called me out on it.

Well played...well played.

At any rate, they only recognized one person, which is a relief. The rest of the night was really enlightening. I to say a lot, and there were specific topics that I needed some insight on...I can't imagine not having this person in my life.

There are still some issues regarding womenfolk in my life.
As I was pointed out: "I still want what I can't have..."
Oh, how I know all too well.

I tried to justify it, but I can't any more than most could: I'm picky, and know what I want. I can't move forward until I completely fail...but I'm much too afraid to try. I feel like most men have trouble just admitting that they like women sometimes. Saying it out load is expressing fully your vulnerability to that person... gives them an intrinsic power over you, you either make you unrelentingly happy or unsettlingly sad. I am not sure I'm ready to be hurt again, so for the time being playing it safe might be the best course of action. I also realize that expressing that vulnerability leaves the reciever of said message with a level of power they might not want to use; sometimes saying yes is hard, but saying no might be harder.

Even I fear losing a friend everytime I take that leap,
but I would hate myself if I didn't eventually know the answers I seek.
And as for the other (less stable) paths I have set before me,
I have opted not to take them because I can live without knowing.


I've been listening to Explosions in the Sky all day (aside from my friend's iPod earlier), but I felt like singing when I got home earlier. So here's the song of the hour:

"It takes more time
Than I've ever had,
Drains the life from me,
Makes me want to forget.
As young as I was,
I felt older back then,
More disciplined,
Stronger and certain.
But I was scared to death of eternity,
I was saved by grace,
But destroyed by naivety.
And I lied to myself,
And said it was for the best,

And now faith is replaced
With a logic so cold.
I've disregarded what I was,
Now that I'm older.
And I know much more
Than I did back then,
But the more I learn,
The more I can't understand.
And I've become content with This life that I lead,
Where I drink to much
And don't believe in much of anything.
And I lie to myself,
And say it's for the best,

We're moving forward,
But holding ourselves back,
And we're waiting on something that will never come..."

- Straylight Run
"It's for the Best"

Over and Out,


Tuesday, February 3, 2009

"I don't want to set the world on fire...

...I just want to start
A flame in your heart.
In my heart I have but one desire,
And that one is you
No other will do.

I've lost all ambition for worldly acclaim.
I just want to be the one you love.
And with your admission that you feel the same,
I'll have reached the goal I'm dreaming of..."

- Horace Heidt
(made famous by The Ink Spots)

That songs seems to be making a big pop-cultural splash, and now it's stuck in my head. It's not as though that's a bad thing; it's a lovely soft jazz number, and the undertones in the song's meaning are quite lovely in my opinion.

Anyway, down to the real meat of this post: I'm writing again. Not like I was at the Daily...I actually quit that job, and hopefully it turns out for the better. But what I really mean is stories.

I used to write them quite often, mostly because my biggest muses were women and depression, neither of which were in too short supply (and both, subsequently, a cause of the other). I can't figure out which one of them I am using now...I want to say the latter, because I don't really feel like I have any "women" in my life.

There are some obvious options, but the idea that I would instruct someone not to settle, and then I would go and settle myself...well, I guess it just seems kind of anti-productive in that field.

I went through a long period where the physical traits seemed to fall short to the mental. It was a good time, but not really fulfilling...nothing ever came of it, because I was never attracted to the girls enough to want more than a friendship.

When I finally got what I wanted (however short of a time I may have "had" it) the girl at the time had both...but she wasn't where I wanted her to be in maturity level. It didn't turn out pretty for me. In the long run, she's doing extremely well, in a very serious relationship, making her own way and about to go into med school. Oh, and she a result of the shit we put each other through (go figure).

I guess what I'm trying to say is, even though I have a few very distinct options, I don't feel like I'm getting the full package. One might say, "It comes with time," however certain...aspects, let's call them...can't really change with time. Other...traits, let's say...take a world of pain to actually develop the way I'd like them.

The worst feeling in the world is quietly pining over someone you know you'll never have, only to realize you were right all along: you never will. So, maybe that's the sinking feeling in my chest? The reason those nightmares about the car crashes have returned? The spark for my muse?

I'll let the story unravel itself a little more each day, but even before I wrote Scarlet into the story I knew who she would be based off of. Which is ironic, because she was technically supposed to be based on someone else...

In the next month, someone is going to get hurt.
It will probably be me, pseudo-masochist that I am.
But, it might be someone else if I'm not careful.
Which might also result in me being hurt more.

I foresee no way that this will go down without at least one person getting hurt. I almost want to make it so that everyone is hurt, because then my pain would be folded onto itself in layers...sometimes pain is the easiest medicine to acquire for guilt. Ugh. Alright, this is getting a bit dreary.

The only reason I brought any of this up, is because I was so involved in a nightmare this morning, I overslept my early class...and now I don't have a class for another hour and a half. With that much boredom comes a wave of personal writing.

As with any post, if you think any of this is about you, but you're not 100% sure: then it's not about you. And if you think you're 100% sure it was you, then be less sure because it's probably not...with the exception of my first ex. But if she finds out where I post, then I'm in trouble anyway.

Over and out,