Two nights in a row to Hoboken and no complaints from me. I went with Bunny and Nova this time after hanging out with them again. Its so great being there with Bunny. She brings such a sunshine to every situation even at night. Even Nova seemed pretty into it and that felt great. I feel like he is finally starting to get there. I really didn’t want to lose him. Sometimes I wonder if I deserve him. And sometimes I wonder if it’s worth putting up with all his crap. But that’s what a real friendship is all about. Taking the good with the bad and realizing that all people are equal, everyone should be given a shot to express themselves. Most of the time you will be delightfully surprised. We played 21 Questions with all 3 of us alternating. But we had it set up like mock AMA (ask me anything) on Reddit. We even created our own cheesy introductions on the fly. Epic nights like that between friends are unforgettable for me. I get so into those moments. Even though I admit I could have been even more into it. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I like Bunny. I’m not ready for a deep relationship right now but it’s so close. I can feel it. I just need to break through one more barrier inside my head. I’ve done the no fap, cut back on drinking and smoking weed, started working out which feels great, focus more time on myself, writing in my journal and in this blog like a mad man, trying to enjoy work for what it is until I find better means, enjoying the crap out of my music like I used to when I was younger. It’s all about bursts of energy and using them to your best ability. Not being lackadaisical and really focusing your efforts into bettering your outcome of the day. Feeling like you accomplished something to keep pushing forward to strive for more. All these generic things people used to tell me that I never payed attention to because I thought I had it all figured out. Well I am extremely happy that it finally sunk in my thick head. But anyways, back to Bunny. She looked great yesterday. She had on this floral dressy shirt and these adorable white shorts. We played in the park for a few hours before it closed in Hoboken and it was so much fun. She has the cutest little chubby belly. That’s what I love the most about my attraction to her. She is nowhere near what most people would call perfect. And as far as my usual body types go she doesn’t qualify. But there is so much Pzazz to everything she does. She is really attractive don’t get me wrong. But she isn’t 90 pounds of which 6 is make-up. Just enough little extra nibbles to let you know she is another human being. Do I still feel hopeless? Somewhat, even though I am handling it a little better. Everything with Gal and NAD is completely hopeless I feel. I’m not really worried about them anymore. When I see them I know some stuff will come back to me. But I really have trouble not focusing on Bunny now. Oh man, I pray for the next girl that get into it with me. I have so many pent up emotions that I will probably consume them alive. I want the pain more than ever. I would prefer the pain than the darkness of solitude. That’s just who I am. Left to my own devices I destroy my being. I am building myself up in hopes of being able to explore the darkness without killing myself. I think of all the late night messages I’ve sent her showering her with my feelings and I cringe. It can’t be taken back or forgotten but it was necessary. Either that or lock myself inside my head. And that will never happen again. The mixed signals are still killing me because she is just so nice and does great things for everyone. But the looks just make me feel otherwise. My gut has never steered me wrong on how I feel about something. Whatever I’m not gonna create expectations. I will just declare it unknown and let myself be surprised or forget it if nothing happens. I know I will find other amazing people. It’s just a matter of confidence and putting yourself out there. Catch ya later WordPress =]
Great band for the summer! Tightrope is another favorite of mine from them. But everything is good from them =]
Hoboken is definitely a second home for me. It’s difficult to explain how much it means to me. The funny thing is I haven’t spent that much time there nor tried all the food or been to the cool bars. I’ve explored so little of it, regardless it holds such a special place in my heart. It’s so quaint and lively. Great people and the food/bars that I have tried have been excellent. Plus Maxwell’s is a really great venue for concerts. I am so upset that they will be closing in July hopefully I can go to one last concert and bid it farewell. But above all, that park by the river. I mean right next to the water. It is so mind blowing. The view of the skyline which belongs to another place I love. It’s so well kept and all the politeness just makes you coo like a baby. So many journal entries written and random nights spent there just star gazing listening to grizzly bear. Like last night I swear I was seeing things. The stars looked like they were moving. But really fast. In my head the logic was that they were planes flying over head. It consumed the whole night sky. I was literally getting high off my music and the fresh air. There is nothing a few deep breaths can’t fix, I promise. And the sea monsters that would jump out of the water and try to snatch the moon out of the sky. The giant purple octopus was nearly successful I swear it. There are perks to insomnia I guess. I went there last night after hanging out with Bunny and Nova. Everyone went home at 11 and I decided I wasn’t done. If I’m gonna stay up anyway I might as well spend it in a place I love. I got there in 7 minutes which means I definitely sped. I didn’t care and it was so worth it. I stayed there until my phone died near three in the morning. What a lovely expedition it was. This is going to become a habit this summer I swear. Maybe I can make some new insomniac friends cause there were plenty of people out and about with me but it was Sunday. I wanna see what it’s like on a weekday maybe even tonight. Even the smell of water reminds me of Spain. Man ok I have to go work out but I love you WordPress. You have made this whole transformation thing just a little bit easier. I’ll talk to you again soon 🙂 ❤
So… It’s been a little bit. Not much has changed in my life since then. I am extremely upset with how I spent my night last night. I would have much preferred to do something productive. A ride to the beach was all I really wanted. I have been pushing things with other people too hard and too fast. People who aren’t even interested. I barely have people that really talk to me. I truly have to find a more distracting hobby because I depend on other people way too much. How do I make someone fall in love again? You don’t… It’s that simple. You can only put your best foot forward and hope for the best. No need to change yourself because that will only complicate shit later on. I feel that everyone has the capacity to use people. They bribe you then use you. It happens so quickly you don’t realize. But am I looking at it wrong? Maybe. I doubt it. Today was supposed to be the lazy day not two in a row. What a waste of a great weekend. I wasn’t there at the BBQ and I was upset at that. I know nights like that can be amazing. So silly of me. Friday was something special for me. Just for me and that felt interesting. I need more days like that. I would like to go the park today and write in my journal, by myself. Or with Bunny. Everything is better with her there. I feel so comfortable around her. Even though I smother her with my feelings ad she doesn’t feel the same. It’s alright though. That’s how it usually is for me. I see things different. I study and analyze the shit out of everyone around me. Just because someone has fun every time they are around you, sends you pictures that no one else gets, has late night porch chats with you alone, tells you secrets and kisses your neck when they’re drunk does not mean that they like you. The physical attraction is there but I have given her no reason to be attracted to anything else. Who am I? The boy who falls in love with every girl he meets. I can see something so beautiful in every girl. The more time I spend with them the higher the beauty rises. Putting girls on pedestals is a dangerous business. Déjà vu creeps in again. It’s so difficult for me to put all my attention on one girl again. I did that for so long that my mind is like repulsed by the idea. Even with Bunny on my mind all the time I still think about Gal and NAD. It’s so crazy. I try to be so damn spontaneous and crazy. But I have no friends who are with it. I need to make crazier friends. Spend some more time in New York. Corona park was so gorgeous! Flushing meadows is the place to be. Skate parks feel like home for who I used to be. I can still feel that old me dormant inside. He is so reckless so I only let him out in spurts. I need to stop thinking about girls. I really do. I’m just afraid of missing opportunities while I’m young. I don’t wanna end up with just any old girl. So many pieces of her shared with everyone else. The pieces I have are amazing. Respect is difficult concept for me to grasp. Consideration is damn near impossible. I have a level of selfishness that most people never achieve in their wildest dreams. I create things in my mind and believe them to be real. I concoct mock relationships in my head with other girls. I really don’t think I’m too far off. The dreams are so vivid lately since I stopped masturbating. The wet dreams are so intense that I wake up gasping. I know they always involve Bunny. She is so beautiful. What a delightful soul. She brings ALL the good out of me without even trying. It’s sickening the pain I bring myself. Building up things in my mind creates a sense of urgency for me and I feel I have to act on them but I don’t. I get so caught up in moments which is why I remember the little things, just the strangest shit. I have a good heart, I get the most joy out of helping people I really do. I just don’t do it often enough. I have so much love to give. It’s like it multiplies inside of me and I just have to get it out. That’s why I get anxious with girls, why talking to them is easy for me. I can be that superman that girls want. I just need my full attention grabbed otherwise you are gonna lose me. I know I deserve someone great. Who can challenge me with all my ignorance and arrogance, my misconceptions and misrepresentations, my naive mind. Someone who makes me question my beliefs for the sake of having a real opinion. I’m good at understanding both sides of the spectrum. I feel it’s only way to delegate justice. My life is going to take me places that I can’t comprehend yet and that excited me. I wonder what surprises are in store for me. I just hope I have a keen enough eye to not let them roll past me. Love is great, love is grand, love is two lovers, hand in hand, love is true, love is life, love is embracing, the edge of the knife. Anything that’s worth it will take a considerable amount of pain to achieve, physical mental social or spiritual.
That which does not kill you can only make you stronger.
I definitely believe in that too. I just want some fun stories to pass on. Love is way too important to me. Feelings and emotions drive me. I will learn to control them soon enough. I refuse to stay trapped in my room. I’m going to do my bribed chores then Hoboken here I come! This felt good. An overall good exploration of where I’m at right now. Two more stories left to go. The land and sky story. Then the best of all the worlds.
Oh god, the words call out to me. I can hear them under the water as they flows towards me like rage. Riding the waves disguised as the cries of a heart broken mermaid. The ripples disrupt the animals slumbering on the thin layer of glass. How the anorexia consumes my lungs as they struggle to gasp for air. So much love to go around and the sleeve is dirty from lack of use or overabundance. The redundancies in the reports are beginning to upset the king in his throne. Don’t make me wait anymore! ARRRGGHHHHHHH! Fuck my life. How come I can’t just turn my head away. My gaze is fixated on the possibility of you and me. You have got me baited like a master fisherman. What do you call it when you lose friends over love? Soul searching is wicked. The words just roll around in my head and beg to come out. How much longer do I need to face this burden. My past is no longer an issue. I refuse to let you make or break me. I let myself be vulnerable but will not allow weakness. I will be strong on my own. The words aren’t flowing. This Gal slowly creeps up on me. Nad is placed on the back burner. I’m not in the mood for a weekend relationship. She is on her own path and I respect that. I am already on hold for someone else. That red hair and those freckles. What a tremendous body. How could someone fuck that up so bad? So strong and focused. Positively intriguing. To distract me from Bunny is no easy task. But will she be gone soon. Will Bunny be gone soon? What if she comes back a completely different person from her trip? I’m so fucking hopeless. I search for Love in all the wrong places. But they feel so right in the moment. Whatever. It’s so stupid of me to think of these things. I don’t feel right! I read all the signals wrong. But do I really? Why can’t people be as, as what..? OK OK who is in control here? I am. So then let me assume control. I wait for things to clear up. Let this horrific chain of events wash over like high tide. How can I ease the healing process? I cannot for I am what caused the gash. Dancing in the rain seems to be the only drug that encapsulates the rush. Dopamine hunting is a wicked business. I seek the thrill of excitement and adventure. Two souls clicking and speaking in a new language. Only spoken between lovers. All the stares give away too much. I look deep into her eyes. She lets her guard down occasionally. She has been hurt. Will the curtain owners be wary of who is trying to peek in. I like this game of peek-a-boo. The peep show is free but more costly then you could imagine. Do I even bother? It may be just peachy for you but I’m impatient. Bunny Gal Bunny Gal. Just keep your fucking mouth shut Chris. You talk too much. All your words ever do is get you in trouble. For once why can’t everyone just understand me. I don’t think I’m that hard to get or figure out. I just want love. This fucking blog is eating me up alive. My journal barks at me at night. It won’t let me sleep. My insomnia is getting out of control when NyQuil becomes my saving grace. The weed or alcohol don’t call out to me much. I yearn for talks on the porch. For long drives to nowhere. For those lips. For those lips. As the faucet drips and I swirl around the bowl with every flush. But you can’t drag me down that drain. Because I embrace the pain and all that it teaches you. The love hurts and the blood leaves a stain. But I just cannot refrain from leaning into your lane. I want our faces to crash into each other. Our bodies to be a 25 car pile up. I want lane closures for hours and days at a time. I want to ensnare you with every line that is dressed up with rhyme to disguise from the real truth behind. As I pick through my mind to find the right questions to pick yours. Intellectually my match has been met in myself. I want to expand and grow like a franchise. Explosive love which climaxes to the sound of landmines. The words flow awkwardly. Like a leaky faucet. But I can’t help but document the trickles. I could turn the knob in either direction but I choose not to. Maybe this is the balance that I need. Somewhere between completely sure of who I want but still allowing myself to be courted by myself. What a strange love affair. Do I really only want the passion? Is it lust or love? For Gal I am still skeptical. For Bunny not so much. Because from a very blunt point of view Bunny is not my type of girl. But my level of attraction goes so much deeper. It’s respect for something so rare. I hear “Just please let this thing with Nova roll over so we can try this…” I don’t know what to say anymore. I want to be there for Gal. She makes me feel alive. I can feel the restraint though. I need unadulterated not restraint. I’ve had three years of holding back already. No one seems to understand this. I will always go for what I want. I don’t know what I want until I have it. I will never do what I did before. Keep hopping Bunny just don’t hop away from me. Keep flying Gal just don’t fly away from me. Take me with you or fly with me. Golden Promises.
This picture has a deep connection to me in several ways. One, Max Payne was one of my favorite video games as a child. Video games compose a huge part of who I am, my childhood, my memories, how I interact with people, my humor, my reflexes, my humanity. I was and still am very much into console and computer games. Well not so much now because video games can put me in a hole if I play them too long. Max Payne was one of those rare games where the story was just as good, if not better, than the actual game play which is absolutely fantastic. It changed the shooter genre forever with its deep raw soulless narrating, excellent comic book style animations, and gory gruesome tonality. The game was truth in a concentrated version. The second reason this photo means so much to me is because it was the perfect depiction of how I felt for three years. This is my attempt at the describing the genius of the hole…
Despair, sadness, suicidal daydreams, murderous night dreams, eternal darkness, confusion, unanswered questions, hopelessness, emotional calamity, and endless thought. These are things that I encountered down there. Dark gray was the only color I could see, as far as my vision could go. Stumbling around in the dark is a frustrating feeling without all of your thoughts involved. What a clusterfuck. I just wanted to be happy but I didn’t know what that meant. I just kept searching and wandering, completely lost and unsure of where to go. I must have inadvertently traced my steps at least a thousand times down there. I can’t say I didn’t learn anything though. The most creative and imaginative enigmas are birthed in the darkness. Entities with no name or purpose that seem to shatter any soul they come in contact with. Embracing the darkness is a difficult and brave thing to do and just like Bunny, I want to be brave too. That’s why I write this for her. Chris would never do this but Fox has no problem obliging. Just as your steps seems to get firm and planted and a direction seems to be decided you trip over another thought that completely derails you from your destination. One good thing about being down there, if you can control it, is the over abundance of time. The clocks are warped moving at a snail’s pace and the ticking is incredibly loud. So distracting. Everything is a lost cause which only pushes you deeper into the void. Space is endless. Once you create a monster in there it will never stop growing. They always seem to feed on the blackness so why would it ever end. But that only creates more questions that you will never answer. Weighing you down and sinking you further, down into the deep waters. The only color besides gray and black you seem to find is red. I think this is your unconscious trying to save you. Throwing you a rope to grab onto so you can pull yourself out. But in this state red can be a very scary color. The color of love and passion and blood and lava. The soul burns sour and yearns for something. Your attention span is pushed to the limits. Everything that catches your attention just completely consumes you. I wish I would have written during this time it would have been interesting to read at least. Welp that’s enough for now. Writing about this makes my head spin.
I have dug my way out and now I scavenge for life’s greatest treasure. I know they are all hidden beneath the dirt, underneath the water, above the trees so I keep my nose to the wind like a hungry fox. My unlit beacon, I keep searching for you Bunny.
So… I kind of can’t stop writing. Just saw this ^ meme ^ and it inspired me to write something. Not exactly sure how true this is. Maybe I am just incapable of these things. I don’t really become attracted to people until I develop feelings for them. A physical attraction just doesn’t cut it for me. It’s very important don’t get me wrong and it’s where it all begins. But sleeping with random people has never been appetizing for me. That meme is really eating me up inside and making me feel so stupid. Being comfortable with sexuality is the most attractive trait I could ever find in a person. Someone who is in tune with their body and understands what makes them feel good and why. It’s a kind of confidence that you can’t fake. It oozes out of you and it can’t be denied or controlled.
The purpose of this post is just to shed a little light on a recent accomplishment of mine. It might not seem that grand or glorious but it was a big leap for me. I am not a huge Reddit user or Redditor but I do use it regularly for education purposes and for a good laugh. With the help of Nova (so so slow, so so slow) I came across a sub-Reddit called nofap. Fapping for those who are unaware is the name for the act of masturbation. This sub-Reddit is completely dedicated to people exploring and writing stories of what super powers one could receive if they were to stop masturbating for 90 days. Many of the stories written are of relapse and intense hope. Others are of great success and examples of said super powers. As I was reading these claims I couldn’t help but feel skeptical. I didn’t think that masturbation was much of a problem anyway. It wasn’t done excessively on my part but it was a regular thing. Nova kept pressing the subject and told me very personal things that I feel don’t need to be mentioned out of respect or to add honesty to this. He was very intent on completing this challenge but he kept relapsing. I attempted the challenge and relapsed once. Didn’t think much of it. But after listening to Nova and reading so many different accounts of regular people like me I came to a startling conclusion. That porn and masturbation are truly poisonous to sexuality and social interaction. The way women are portrayed in pornography is absolutely appalling and really not what guys in general should be exposed to. I can’t speak for the female outlook on this as far as their acceptance. Now this is where it gets good. Apparently refraining from exposing yourself to these things for an extended period of time had some really great health benefits. These super powers include a boost in energy, a much easier time falling asleep, increased sexual appetite, less negativity overall, strange new confidence, and sex is supposed to be a new level of orgasmic. I know I was one of those guys that masturbated incessantly while I was in high school because it was so new and instantly gratifying. But like anything else, we have to find a balance, because too much of a good thing is a bad thing. In high school I can really say it was a problem but the problem never really went away as I got older. It became less frequent but I was still being exposed to these unconscious undertones of what sexuality should be. The idea of women just being sexual puppets that should heed your every call and beckon in bed. It doesn’t work that way and it shouldn’t have to. It’s much more fun when it is something mutual that both parties really enjoy. Where you can laugh and smile and taste and feel everything in all its splendor. Sex should be an intense experience every time that gets people really involved and open up new avenues of pleasure and intimacy. Well the point is that today I am a full fledged fapstronaut. Yes I have been 90 days clean and I must say I can attest to everything that has been said. I haven’t had sex yet since becoming full fledged but everything else is very true. I was always comfortable with my sexuality but this took it another level completely. A new plateau where the fear of heights need not apply. This came in conjunction with my recent resurfacing from my mental prison and it feels great. The moral is that change can come at any time. Discover who you really are today.
I’m slowly starting to feel like things between Bunny and I are completely hopeless. I’m not sure what her intentions are because she sends me so many mixed signals. I don’t want her to do things because she cares about me as a friend because it’s just leading me on. There is always chemistry when we’re drunk but she becomes someone else when she is drunk. She really enjoys it I feel. But it’s kind of destructive to her. I know that she’s aware of what she does. Just please give me a sign. I promise I would take it slow. Just let the love flow…
So blogging, huh? I’m not even really sure what it means to blog. Do I have to inform people, entertain them, show them something new and exciting? Or can I just write in here like I would my dozens of filled journals? Does it really matter?
So… I guess some introductions are in order. My name is Christian Romero. I’m a 23 year old man/boy/whatever who currently lives in Newark, NJ. I have lived here my entire life and I must say that it has really molded me into an interesting guy to say the least. I appreciate everything this wonderful place has ever taught me even though now it’s just very boring and bland. It gets difficult to find excitement in the same city after 20 years but you don’t need me to tell you that. My parents and my whole family from as far back as I can remember all came from Spain. Spanish was my first language and my roots hold a very special place in my heart even though I don’t know as much as I should about them. Well now that all the boring stuff is out of the way lets get right into the good stuff. The whole purpose of me writing this blog is just because I love writing more than anything and to stick to my word. Honesty has always been a touchy subject for me for many reasons but I am working on a new me that is very transparent, authentic, and genuine. Stereotypes and beliefs are kind of like prison cells so slowly but surely removing them from life is a prerogative. But with that said I am a Scorpio born on November 3, 1989 so that means that I’m a fiery passionate person who keeps secrets and is great in bed. Not really sure about the last one but I haven’t gotten any complaints so far, heh. <– that was a nervous laugh by the way =/. Now I don’t want to completely put myself into that Scorpio box but I truly am all of those things. Passion is a great thing in my eyes that doesn’t get showcased enough. If I have one mission in my life it’s to make people feel. It doesn’t really matter what it is: anger, joy, jealousy, envy, sadness. I want my emotions to shine and come through with everything I do because if there is no conviction behind what you do it means nothing. It will have no soul or flavor and what’s a world with no soul? A useless one for me. Does this get me in deep shit sometimes? Absolutely! Do I have issues controlling my emotions when I really need to? Absolutely! But what’s important is that I’m in tune with myself and how I feel about something. It’s just who I am and I don’t see that every changing. Don’t get me wrong! I am attempting to tame my feelings to keep my sanity in check but I know I will always let my emotions fly when something really matters to me. This is the real purpose of anything I will ever write in this blog. I will be getting down dirty gritty grimy scummy disgusting nasty degrading tasteless and any other words you can think of with a negative connotation. Why? ‘Cause I fucking can that’s why. ‘Cause it’s what I feel needs to be done right now. The place I’ve been put in recently emotionally, physically, and spiritually is completely new and strange to me. The strain being put on my heart is intense. There is a burning in my chest, a current running through my body, a thirst inside my soul, a beast inside my head, and ache inside my heart that can only be satiated with words and letters and punctuation. Nothing compares to writing on paper but I will make due.
As far as this pickle that I’m in it’s incredibly complicated and painful but I will attempt to start from the beginning. Once upon a time there lived a carefree boy who had all the energy in the world, a walking firecracker if you will. This boy was unstoppable. He could literally walk into a room and electrify it instantly. He roamed his high school hallways without a care in the world, head held high because his entire life was before him and his future was bright. A promising young man that was poetically vulgar but respectful. There he met a beautiful young flower that stole his heart instantly. The sparks were a little uncomfortable for everyone else to be around. It was young love and it was unadulterated, pure, contagious. At first things didn’t come together but with a little push from friends and peers the boy pursued and won over the girl. Fox and Sun were so so great together. At first everything was dandelions and sunflowers. But both parties were very very new to love, the first time for each of them. Fox had no control over his possessiveness and that slowly ate away at Sun. Jealousy and a carefree bird riding the wind don’t mix very well. It took a massive hit to his heart for Fox to learn this very valuable virtue. Fox clung on for dear life on to what they had as Sun moved on and tried other things. She dated someone for a while which was pretty serious but he had the same problem as me. So eventually Sun left him too, not entirely unrelated to the fact that I was involved. I’m afraid this is getting a bit confusing. Fox somehow convinced her to take him back. They were sure that what they had learned from the first failure would carry them through anything else that life threw at them. I had completely gotten over my jealousy thing. Honest to goodness I really did, a flip just switched and it’s never gone back. Fox had no idea what he was getting himself into. Things were good at first but then bricks started to fall around him. But I seemed to be placing each one of them with my own hands. I didn’t realize that I wasn’t meant to be with her again. I wanted new things but I couldn’t come to terms with this realization. Now to introduce the other two main characters. Fox has had a “best friend” since 3rd grade. Nova was the greatest thing since sliced bread in my eyes. But it was a very awkward relationship indeed. Fox and Nova never really talked about things. I went my whole life calling him my best friend because I had known him for so long so he HAD to be my best friend, right? But the only things we shared were jokes and funny stories and our love to laugh. That was definitely our strongest bond. Throughout high school Nova and I weren’t very close. We went to different high schools and made many new different friends throughout our journey. Through him I met Bunny. So we have Fox – “me”, Sun – “first love”, Nova – “best friend”, and Bunny – “second love”. I hope you’ve got everything, I’m very sorry if this is all very confusing but I just need to get this down. The words are flowing easily and effortlessly so I can’t stop now. Bunny was an amazing girl who has the most adorable little round face framed by the silkiest black hair and big beautiful round eyes, like anime eyes, and nice lips, teeth, and voice to just complete the package. Definitely not what Fox was used to but at the same time all so familiar. Let me explain. Up until this point I had only been interested in girls like Sun who looked very much like this. The similarities between the two girls was intense and a bit scary at first. The tones of their voice, their mannerisms, their outlook on life, shit they are both even Sagittarius to boot just further solidifying how insane this was. Yet still with that said they were polar fucking opposites. Bunny was much more down to earth and curious. So bright and shiny, full of spunk and witty, crafty and cunning just like a fox. Fox had stumbled upon a complete fox. The intricacies of my relationship with Sun were becoming entirely too much but I was comfortable. Fox really thought he was happy and he had to keep fighting to make her happy. Even though for three years Fox fell into this sort of coma. I was completely conscious through the whole thing but it’s like I was imprisoned inside my brain. I couldn’t make any decision for myself. Everything was just Sun, Sun, Sun. Things became so dark and toxic, just corroding away at our very beings.
I think now would be the time to interject with the story of how I lost my capability of feeling real pain. This is real and raw and incredibly personal so I apologize if I offend anyone or whatever but it needs to be said. My sanity is at sake. I grew up with old school hard-ass parents. The kind that would always tell you way too many things that you have to be in order to be a successful adult even though you were too young to comprehend the concepts. The kind that no matter how good you do in school they expect you to do better when you are just a child trying to have fun. Being an extremely hyperactive child I had so so much trouble focusing on one thing for very long. The medication helped a little bit but I didn’t always take it. Because of this even though school was very easy to me and I understood everything very well sometimes my loud mouth would get me in trouble during class. Plus when I would get home and sit down to do homework I just couldn’t focus. This lead to some bad grades here and there with the more strict stubborn teachers (totally not their fault though) and as you can deduce my parents weren’t pleased whenever this would happen. I remember the first time it happened very vaguely. It was an electric day because it was the first report card day of the school year. I don’t have any recollection of my grades except for them being mostly A’s and B’s which was absolutely great for me. I ran home overly eager to show my mom how well I was doing already. I walked in through the door and jumped into her with my report card in hand. She quickly scanned it over completely engrossed by my unfiltered energy and spirit. She told me I did very well but questioned why I received any B’s. This was very puzzling to me so I wasn’t sure how to answer the question. Word for word I can’t remember what else was said but she ended it with something along the lines of “if you don’t changes all those B’s to A’s by next report card you’re going to be punished.” Apparently I didn’t think much of this as a child because next report card it was more of the same if I’m not mistaken. A scenario much like the first one played with me running home eagerly having forgotten the words my mom said that day. She scanned it over and then told me to go in my room. My room was very big for a child who lived in Newark. it was very spacious in the middle and I didn’t take this for granted. The whole floor was typically covered in toys and legos. I know I was very fortunate in that department. The floor was a deep blue carpet. It made so much sense to me as a kid but now that I think back that carpet was fucking weird. I had a bunk bed where Nova slept over on the regular. I had a nice sized television with a built in VCR. I had a bookshelf filled with awesome books about history and animals which I still have many of to remind me. There was a large dresser made out of really nice soft wood that I chewed quite often. I was and still am a big biter, don’t ask me why. I got kicked out of my first and only private school in 2nd grade for biting another child’s head and making him bleed. It apparently wasn’t my first offense of the sort =/. My most prized possession in my room was my gigantic gargantuan behemoth Goliath sized toy chest. It was a deep red wooden box with really intricate hand carvings all over it made to look like leaves. I used to run my fingers through the grooves practically everyday. It had two beautiful golden handles on either side to assist with lifting the beast even though I couldn’t imagine anyone daring to lift that monstrosity of a beast. Also the large very intricate golden latch on the front that had to be lifted in order to open it along with a golden atypical key that really locked and unlocked it. That blew my mind. My father was a tall, well built tower of awesomeness. He had powerful light blue eyes and natural blonde hair that always seemed to be perfectly parted. My mother was a small but feisty powerhouse. Very deep dark brown eyes and with fiery brown hair with natural frizzes and curls. Her hair alone was intimidating. It described her personality perfectly. Overpowering and fierce. My father was the epitome of what you would call a man. Tough, calm, cool, and collected at all times. They were both excellent dressers and even to this day they can still wear the shit out of clothes that most people wouldn’t dare try to pull off. My mom was very much into fashion and creating her own clothes. Needle and thread were her weapon of choice. My father’s was a paint brush. He made the most incredible abstract paintings that had no rhyme or reason but just made sense somehow. I still collect some of his doodles to this day because they are so creative and such a depiction of who he is. These are the reasons why I doodle so much now and why I enjoy to dress nice all the time. My parents were very cool even by today’s standards. No complaints. Except for one. Above my toy chest was a bold, faded, ancient map of the world. It even contained the supposed locations of all the mythological creatures and sea monsters of the world which I had a few books on. That was my second favorite possession. I stood in front of my chest just admiring my amazing map after my mother had told me to go to my room. She walked in shortly after with a scowl on her face and a belt in her hand. My mother eyes… I could go on about them forever. They were so engrossing and infinite. Like an endless pool of chocolate. She had very thick eyebrows which I got from her. And like nothing I had ever seen before these things would move in conjunction with her mood like a dancer to the thump of the beat. I called her laser eyes inside of my head. She could convey so many feelings and intentions with just one look. She would penetrate skin and bone connecting directly with your mind. Words were no use to her, there was no need for them. I had never seen a look quite like this on my mother before. Her angry face was very easy to spot but this was unlike all the other times. She walked up me, confusion pouring out of all my pores I’m sure, and said that she warned me I would be punished. The memory came rushing back and fear starting to pump through my frozen heart. Suddenly it started to beat very fast, sweat started to come through places I didn’t know I had. It was almost like my brain had figured out what was going to happen before me but I still couldn’t understand it. She commenced to hit me with said belt a few times. I believe the magic number was 10. This was the first time my mother beat me. I believe I was in the 3rd or 4th grade, having recently met Nova and started in a new school. As she was hitting me I remember not being able to gain control of my thoughts. My head was racing with the stinging pain, wondering why this was happening. I just kept asking myself “Why?” Once she was done, which she announced after counting aloud for every hit, I still couldn’t come up with a good enough reason. I thought I was doing so well in school. But eventually the stinging went away and everything faded back into normality somehow. The tears stopped flowing and the scowl disappeared off my mom’s face. She put the belt away. That was my first taste of what complete relief felt like I just hadn’t realized it yet. So many new feelings packed into one experience. I don’t think it fully registered into my brain until many, many report cards later. This progressively got worse as I got older. I became bigger and bigger and could handle a lot more pain. School became more difficult and complex and friends were so important. Nova didn’t know about any of this. I had somehow learned to make pretend this didn’t happen to me. I became used to it, the stinging pain and the unanswered questions floating around my head. I am realizing so many things as I’m writing this. As I grew so did my punishments. The count steadily rose over the years. The belt eventually turned into a piece of a broom stick. Around 4 feet long. It was a faded yellow color, at least to my color blind eyes. The solid wood left a much harsher, deeper sting. It also left many more bruises. The lashings became a little wilder and more mundane. She always aimed for my butt because she didn’t want anyone to know. She was terrified of this and made it known to me many times. But I promised her every time she finished that I would never tell. And I never did even when the gym teacher asked questions. I became a very good liar early on. It became a way of life for me. Comedy became my saving grace. I found the most bliss in just making people laugh, there was nothing that I loved more. The mask I had built for myself, the facade eventually became my face, for no one cared enough to peek behind it. I’m going to fast forward to around 7th grade. That definitely rings the most of a bell. This year I had done pretty horribly in school. The reason why I’m not exactly sure because I was no longer hyperactive. The report card was my most distinctive one so far, very abstract indeed like my father’s paintings. It went from A’s to F’s very sporadically. Quite colorful. The F’s in red were so rich. That walk home was the exact opposite of my first one. If I had walked any slower I would have bumped into Marty McFly. People gave me strange stares all the way home. I think I might have been crying the whole time but who knows. I walked into the house and slumped into a chair. My mom started to lose track of when exactly I would bring home the report cards and on this occasion we received them on a Friday which was very rare. And so I decided not to show her this report card until Monday morning. Don’t ask me why I postponed my punishment like that, it was the worst thing I could have done. It ate me up inside all weekend but I though my plan was full proof. I would wake up early Monday and show it to her then. I would have to walk to school so there would be no way she could find the time to hit me. I would be scott free. God it was so easy to be a child. Monday morning came, it was crunch time but I was incredibly nervous. I was having so much trouble mustering up the courage to show her because I slowly realized that no matter what, it would come eventually. Time started to slow down at this point, kind of like now when I listen to Interpol. I choked and didn’t wait long enough to show her. I just blurted the words out. “I got my report card on Friday, I need you to sign it.” Her eyebrows furrowed instantly and the scowl came on. She kept asking me why I didn’t show it to her sooner and all I could muster was “I don’t know…” after “I don’t know…” I really, really wanted to say “So you couldn’t hit me…” but I was too young. She immediately started stomping to her room. She adopted this habit over the years so as to let me know beyond any shadow of a doubt that she was going to get the stick. I immediately started to cry and shout. I screamed for her not to do it. I screamed “I need to go to school you can’t do this now!” My logic was completely frayed. She yelled for me to go into my room. I was hysterical at this point. She pushed me towards the toy chest. I knelt over it and ran my fingers through the grooves. I had gotten so close with it. It knew the taste of my tears so it had a part of me. And the map, it never ceased to make me cry. I couldn’t help but imagine the monsters coming to life and saving me. The sharp pains began accompanied by the slow wretched count. One, two three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve… That is my favorite number. Yellow is my favorite color. Masochist. Up until this day I believe the count was up to around 40. That had become the norm. On this day though, 40 came and went too quickly. Forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty… At this point I couldn’t open my eyes anymore. The tears stopped coming down. The stinging pain stopped. I stopped hearing the numbers in my head. Everything went black. Something changed, something snapped or fell off, something cracked. I don’t know when she stopped. I know I must have thrown her for a fucking loop. She announced that she was done and without a word or looking in her direction I walked over to my book bag, slung it over my shoulder and started to walk towards the door. She yelled at me to stop before I walked out. She asked me “Why aren’t you crying anymore?!” I looked at her for a second and then just walked away, right out the door, into the big blue hallway. Down the long blue staircase , out onto the long gray driveway towards the big black gate. In my head all I could think was “Because it doesn’t hurt anymore…” She still beat me until 8th grade but it wasn’t as much fun for her anymore. I didn’t tear up or yell and scream like I used to. I think after that point it started to hurt her more than it hurt me. I was bigger than her already. One day it stopped. I grabbed the stick out of her hand in the middle of a beating and threw it straight across the house. It never happened again. The damage was done.
I enjoy the simple things in life: hot dogs in the park, really loud music on speakers or headphones it doesn’t matter as long as it’s good, long drives to nowhere, a good hard long laugh, a good book, throwing punches at ocean waves. I am a boy at heart and I always will be. If I ever lose my inner child I will be as good as dead.
So back to my story ummm dark and toxic. For 3 years Fox and Sun stayed together. There is so so much to that story but that isn’t what I’m focusing on right now.Throughout this time I know now that I fell in love with Bunny. I grew feelings for quite a few people. Some of them stuck around longer than others. I ignored all of them somehow. Bunny was the only one that lasted the entire time. Eventually Sun and I called it quits. We set each other free. And somehow I broke free of my prison. Through all of this I barely wrote anything. This is where I currently stand. I have been single for months now. I started making decisions for myself. They all turned out terribly just hurting everyone around me. But for once I was being me, being myself! It feels so liberating, exhilarating. Now the whole purpose of introducing Nova and Bunny was not for just back story. Nova grew feelings for Bunny too. He had fallen in love. He came to me for advice, confided in me. I gave him advice, gave him false confidence. I feel that there was always chemistry between Bunny and I. I don’t think she can deny it either. Physical contact was never forced, intimacy seemed effortless. Not anything crazy just random grazes and nudges and stares and smiles and touches and dances… Oh my god the dancing is so electrifying. Just non-stop bursts of energy and light and sounds and racing heart beats. What a pickle. I have told him about my feelings for her. I have told her about my feelings for her. I fear I may have lost my best friend. I fear I may never get the girl. Everything has become so complicated. It goes so so much deeper than but I already feel cold and naked. Now I sit here listening to Interpol and Born Ruffians. They seem to understand me so well. This blog is wayyy too long. I’m not sure what happened. I’ve been typing for almost 3 hours straight. I wonder, man oh man, I wonder if anyone will ever read this. I really want Bunny to read this. I wrote this for her. Everything I do is for her. I wonder what she will think of this. Time moves by so so slow, so so slow lately. I have no idea what direction to go in. But my head feels on so straight. How is this possible?
The moral of my story? Don’t ever let your feelings go unaccounted for. There is a reason your body feels these things. You can’t just ignore them. Even though everyone always tells me that you can’t go with every crush you have on someone. I’m pretty sure this isn’t a crush anymore. I’m going to take this very slow. I don’t want to miss a single moment of this. Please hug me and may I have this dance?
- Poetic Lion, Kingly Rabbit (divkanwar.wordpress.com)
- Fox Cub Has Enough Instinct To Ask Humans For Help Removing Mason Jar From It’s Head. (americanlivewire.com)