My neighbors upstairs

I know for a fact you're making noise on purpose. Perhaps your animalistic instincts tend you to protect your habitat from poachers and geeky white boys like myself. What we all know is that in your trapped world of spouse abuse and health issues, perhaps the ones you're consulting about your issues have little to no impact on changing them.

Perhaps it's time for me to find a new place to live.

Disclaimer:

That's the one time I've ever tried weed. As a matter of fact, life's plenty more interesting not having the easy way out. Imagine training your brain sober to achieve a blissful life that otherwise you're dishing out money for.

(coughSCIENTOLOGYcough)

Music sounded great on weed because the mild form of acid (THC) made me dashing my eyelashes to the disco-ball trails of light on the ceiling.

Yeah, it was lovely, and I didn't give a crap that everyone wanted Wendy's. You can say my mile-high days are over, simply because I'd be relying on a substance. There's no magic revelation of life through it all.

EXCEPT...people can learn one very important thing in life: chill. 

Yes, there are times in life that require so much attention and emotional response that other people hold you to being all true in nature, but most of the time, people phase unimportant things out. This includes people that have no direct communication to them- and as long as you're not breaking a law, you're part of that group.

So train your brain to slow down, but stay sharp beneath it all. Take a chill pill- people aren't looking at you every five seconds. More importantly, ask yourself what's most important at the moment, and if that's YOU, treat yourself the best out of everyone else.

So here's a thought:

I tried weed.

It's like having a speed lever dialed drastically down in your head. The mind-filter you once had in your head comes back for an encore. You have this time to concentrate on your own selfish existence and nothing else, but you put on a face so people aren't deterred. You're a kid in a nineteen year-old's body.

All throughout this time, I found it easy to like my ideas enough to not toss out every single one. I wrote a sketchbook full of lyrics and melodies with chime-lustuous synths. The sounds I imagined were of hipster-dance music, glistening to an eighties vibe. It didn't matter that it had every sample in EDM- it just mattered that it was original (or sounded somewhat like MGMT).

Then a concept struck me. All it is that we're getting from this high is a dopamine rush. And it seems, high or not, that we get dopamine rushes when we see artistic expressions that display conflict in the mind. This could be as simple as a pattern, to a complex thought that explains nothing, but chases it for a good half hour.

Here's where things get crazy: what if, a long time ago, someone took away our instant-access to this dopamine rush? They found it's easier to oppress a general civilization so they can get away from it all while other people do mundane tasks to keep the world revolving. Worst of all, who's there to tell them they're wrong? Who's there to take away their source of joy? Whoever it is finds it beneficial to keep remnants of this happiness as a motivation tool, and spreads it every now and then so people can pursue this pointless happiness.

Because, seriously now, what is the point of working hard all day? We make money, which is great. We're all fighting for one percent of total monetary value while one percent has the other ninety-nine, and all they do is raise a bunch of hoopla. Seems to me like even education won't get you out of that loophole. There are kids living off their parent's money for the rest of their lives, and as long as they have money in the bank, or a will not to reproduce, they can live their life without a work-filled meaning or characteristic development. But really, who blames them? They're just as happy as we are when we're rewarded with money.

So artists find it easier to have access to unlimited dopamine workspaces (a hit of weed) to better extract an idea and call it their own. It becomes strictly career-driven nature, and only people that have a need to claim another idea their own will fight for it (which is no one, unless whoever's selling their work has a problem with it).

Oh what?

After seven long, painful months, Google finally resurrected the blogging format I've come to love.

This means updates and pondering with no aim. Not like anything's different...

"My cousin just spent the last hour explaining to me why he didn't believe in evolution.

It's kinda rough out here…day two in the desert- they have a guns god and glory mentality…I'm fearing I may be becoming one of them. I must stay strong.

My worst fears were realized at dinner. I found myself saying "I think everybody should own a gun". I don't know what happened. It just slipped out.

The changes are now apparent and coming much faster. I think I blacked out. The last thing I remember is saying something about going back to where they came from and then the next thing I knew I was wearing full camp and having a real life modern warfare fight with my cousin. 

You know, it's really not so bad here. I'm with family, and the closest Walmart is only about a hour drive away, and it's not like we are completely in the middle of nowhere. The state penitentiary is only fifteen minutes down the road. 

What kind of name is Jairo anyway? Are you some sort of commie terrorist?"

-Jessica Meier, January 3, 2013

Haven't seen her in 3 months

I've never been so deprived on the inside, then revived to finally see someone ever in my life before. She has no clue, I'm sure. Kinda wish I could convey this across...she'll probably never know.

Why I'm never doing interviews

If I were to tell a person exactly what would be going through my mind in one minute, there'd be actions, doubts, lack of self-security, random articles of information, typically all resulting in a loss of where I even started. My doctor told me the pills could help, but I found out half the time they're filled with complete BS. So my mind accepted it- I just had to find a way to control my train of thought. And while it never really is under control, I have that  shell. And in that shell is a buffer zone, where I could freely think before something affects me personally. 

And I can't stop writing about her.

I'll never be able to stop writing about her.

But let me know in two years, I'm sure something'll work itself over.

I can't help but think.

Sometimes I think my life would be better in the third-person-not-affected-by-first-person-emotions life.  As much as I'll tell you I try my best not to have feelings extend beyond friendship, and WAY before relationships, they happen. I'll get a girlfriend. Up until a little less than two years ago, I could've sworn I was right.

Then I let my mind obsess. I told it "Think what you want to think. There's nothing society can tell you otherwise. It's your mind, and you should only care what it tells you."And I will- I couldn't stop thinking of this one girl. Probably the second-only obsession I've had in high school, and it's clear the first one should've ended well within the first three weeks. But it's amazing how long it dragged on. I didn't have a moral balance to tell myself what I was thinking couldn't be healthy for future decisions. But it's only right for me to say I've had relationships past that two-year-ago mark where all I could think about was her, and I can't help to think it's because I let my mind get carried away.

But in this current relationship, it's withered away. It started strong- nothing but feelings for the girl in the relationship. As time ran along, I started pulling out pros and cons, "why's" and "if's". I just can't believe that one moment where all seemed doomed made me realize I had such deep feelings for her. And it wasn't until I started talking about it to my obsession that she clearly put it in perspective, and made me want her back like how it all started.

Bottom line is I shouldn't be allowed to date. Not now, not ever. Not unless it's clear in my mind I can ever make it bulletproof.

There's a moment in every relationship/argument...

...where you can put the phone down and everything will be okay.

Just let the opposing party know you have to put the phone down for a little bit to avoid mixing your feelings into your logic.

Review- Neuro 'Bliss' water

Dammit all, this packaged water idea's making me a little sick. And quite frankly, so is the water.

Here's the deal; Every time I go in to deposit a check or earn some pocket money, I celebrate a little. I walk into the King Soopers off of 80th and Wadsworth (yes, that overkill of a market) and go directly to the beverage refrigerator on the far right portion of the store. No big deal. I always pick out my beverage of choice- Powerade Zero in Strawberry. Delicious stuff. Only today was different- no more Powerade Zero in Strawberry. In fact, no Powerade Zero variety at all. So here I am, looking at these hippie excuses for tea, Sobe vomit in a plastic container, JUICE (as if the world hasn't stopped packaging nature already) and finally, my eyes rest upon the bright, retina blinding primary colors of Neuro water.

I've heard rants about this damn water all over Facebook, claiming their 'effects' work. Now, me being all sassy and what not, I strongly dislike when people think carbonated water gives off superpowers. With the amount of Diet Coke I've drank in my life, I should be Superman. NO- Iron Man...with cancer.

Anyways, I decide to buy this overpriced 14.5flOz of white water. As I'm walking to the register, I'm reading the bottle. In the bottom left corner of the label, it reads strongly that no claims on the bottle were, or are, approved or researched by the FDA. So now I'm thinking I'm carrying a bottle full of horse sperm. No big deal- it's on sale.

These claims on the bottle- let's read them specifically:

- Helps reduce stress
- Enhances mood
- Provides focused concentration
- Promotes a positive outlook

AND BEHOLD, I TAKE A DRINK.

First thought- it's flat Fresca. It is! All of this is marketing BS. I'm sure somewhere the corporation that distributes Fresca is in a desperate situation to get more business, because who likes Fresca? No one. That's who likes Fresca.

On my way home, I'm yelling at old people to get off the road. So now I'm pretty set on the idea that Neuro doesn't want to sell to old people. Sounds legit. Anyways, there goes the claim that it reduces stress. There's my second thought.

Third thought- I'm not singing along to Katy Perry. As we all know, you're in a damn good mood if you're singing along to Katy Perry. I most certainly wasn't. So there goes the whole 'enhances mood' BS.

I do think it improved my concentration. I can only say that much so far. Here's my reasoning- Pomona was having a Car Wash and they brought out the cheerleading squad. So essentially there are high school girls in bikinis. I drive by them and all I could think of was Katy Perry. So yeah, concentration savvy water here.

I'll leave that fourth one up in the air. Buying the water makes you feel good, sure. It's a futuristic-looking water bottle that isn't plastered with sponsors or graphics- it gets right to the point. Frankly, most packaging should be that way anyways. We don't need to be sold by 90's marketing techniques. That's out the door seven years ago!

So while I hate this water, I can't give it any more thought. Mainly, because it's going to pass right through me. Secondly, Katy Perry.

Just finished my first week at UCD

...just thought you should know.

Tomorrow...

...I join a bowling league.

SUCK IT.

Really, it's only getting worse.

...but really now, it's only for the better. Not sadistic, I swear. There's just less left to ponder about human psychology. The guilt and 'pain' associated with learning the truth can only deficit a negative outcome, and substantially emphasize positivity.

I really don't need a pat on the back for everything. I'm a goddamn adult.

And let me tell you, I've tried thinking both sides out. There's no winning with jerks. Everyone's an attention whore- It's just another particularly irritating deficiency in our civil construction.

Aside from all of that, everyone relies on trust more than is granted. It's like subconsciously allowing for a safety net, while imagining everything will go great regardless of what the opposing party says.

Anyways, this is all a result of my stupid jump-to-conclusions-obsessed-with-a-girl-that-has-no-attachment-to-me.

I'll leave with a picture.

I feel really alone in the world right now.

It's a harsh sense of the world "independent," but I think I know what people are making a big fuss about.

It's tough. Knowing I'm working a job that has no safety net is scary. Signing up for college and applying for loans on my own is scary. Even knowing most of what I've produced up until today is pointless. Kinda scary. But I guess that's the sheer taste of independence. 

That blissful freethinking that only occurred with a reassurance my parents would be able to pick me up if I failed could only be thought of fondly, but now impractical. 

So here's to a big step out there in the wild. I can only help myself up from here on out.

1.5 months

I'm back again. And no, honestly, that glasses idea never took any progress.

But here's what happened!

- Was a DJ for 5 grad parties.
    - Made BANK
- Played the rooftop at Vinyl Nightclub
    - Socked a loser in the face, business-wise
- Got my diploma (in the mail)
- Registered for classes

- Gave up hope with my current crushes
..
...
- GOT IT BACK (after rocking out!)

- New longboard (in fact, 2)

- Went on July 4, ripped open my right side on a curb
- Healed as of today!

As I sit here in my reordered room, rocking in an Ikea chair, revisiting my curious, anxious nature of being a freshmen, there's still so much more to do before fall hits.

Let's do it!

On tomorrow's agenda:

1. Buy cheap, stylish sunglasses.

2. Buy small, thin mirror

3. Strategically break mirror

4. Glue parts of mirror onto sunglasses, leaving gaps.

5. Voila. Shatter shades.

Graduation

I'm officially done with high school!

I have not a worry in my mind concerning my future education!

The FAFSA's done!

- I'm free.

Believe in the Veldt

Deadmau5' "The Veldt" gave me the same feeling that Cher's "Believe" gave me when I was 5 and I heard that kind of house for the first time in my life. Enclosed in a beige castle known as my mom's job at AT&T - also known as my birth to a technological world.

After prom.

I woke up to the sounds of roaring helicopters from outside my window. With my eyes too lazy to open, I imagined it was some noisy lawn mower. I figured why not...I'll take a peek. Guess I was wrong - it was a helicopter. In addition to the low-flying black hawk, four News vans were outside, with their antennas hoisted tens of feet in the air. In front of them were news journalists, yellow-vested authorities with K9 units and onlookers from deep inside the park.

I immediately got dressed and rushed downstairs. Without skipping a beat, I asked a guardsman what happened. I looked around for a fire, some building collapsing, or maybe a lifeless corpse. Turns out the third one was almost dead on. The authorities' mission today was to find the body of a missing 19 year-old girl, known to have hidden in the park during times of hardship at her residency, only a block down. She grew dormant from her teenage progression. As her life became constricted, so did her intelligence. Eventually, she'd develop problems with her cognition. At the age of 19, she had the mind of a 12 year old. She ran away 2 nights ago, and there's been a rumor her body was across the street from my house.

They found the body. It wasn't hers.

With more questions floating around, I spent my day going to work, and coming back to my house. I have a view of the park from outside my bedroom window. I'm sure her parents are scared to death about whether they'll find her, or if she's dead or alive.

What's on my mind is that they found a body in the park right across from my house. What's more scary is that it wasn't hers.

I wonder where she might be.