I talked to my brother... and then to my mom...

You know, I really think I'm destined to be a peculiar voice in my family.

Today, my brother asked me "What do you think of me?" I took the time to think through all of the conversations I had with mom over the last few months and breathed deeply. I thought and waited for the words to come. I waited for grace.

Then I told him the truth. I told him about my mom's last few months. I told him that he was still finding his way as an adult. I told him that he needed to think about my mom's feelings when he spoke to her - and that I told mom the same things about him. I told him about the struggles she goes through to give him what he asks for casually and without a thought to her sacrifice. I explained why the other siblings seem to be irritated with him occasionally without him ever having spoken to him because of "something that mom said". I told him, in short, that he should be more mindful of things around him and that, although he's a little more stubborn than he should be, he'll be okay.

My mom walked into the early part of this conversation and, afterward, sought me out to ask what I said. Again, grace. I explained it to her. I barely got halfway through before she stood up, suddenly in tears, to ask me to forgive her for anything she may have done to hurt me.

It's funny: moments ago I said "She's not a perfect mom - she has never been one - but she has been a very good mom to all of us."

As she said that, I tried to tell her it was okay, but she wanted me to let her ask for forgiveness anyway, so I did. Then I held her in my arms and let her cry for a bit (I did manage to avoid the ruin of any applied mascara) and told her I loved her and that she is a good mom.

Because she is a good mom.

Six kids, no instruction manual, six wildly varying personalities... yeah, she did a good job, IMO.

There's a lot more to it, but man.... I'm doomed to be the counselor in this family. I see why mom asked me to talk to my younger brother; I'm the only one that's level-headed enough to explain things like this without losing my temper.

She wonders if he heard me. Maybe he has. For now, looking around, I'd say that we're all ears and hearts here.

Turnaround Magic

I love these kinds of moments. I was so irritated and just went to talk to Jill. I didn't even state what was wrong, but just taking out a little frustration to someone that I knew would care helped me so much.

After that, a song came on. Jill commented that the crowd was dead, so I suggested we go liven things up. She was down and soon we were clapping and moving. It spread a little by a little and got people near us moving.

We came back and shared pictures and laughed and my irritation melted away. I wasn't on the phone much still but it was my choice this time. I swayed and enjoyed the music.

I had one song I wanted to hear very much, so i asked for it after being encouraged by Jill (dude, you're you, of course he'd play it).

His eyebrows jumped a bit, but he smiled and said sure. It was a really old song he hadn't had requested in forever. What he doesn't know it that that song is deep in my soul. I remember where and when I was, crying because I missed the very person playing the song which was on a cassette tape. Beautiful, but painful memory.

I stood for most of that song, silently thanking them for playing it and enjoying the expressions of everyone around. Especially Tomo who has the most soul-soothing, peaceful expression while playing.

I thanked them all and Jerry gave me a CD to take home. I'm rather excited about this since it has newer things on it. I don't think he understood that I wanted all of the music he's ever made.

He does now.

We hugged, I hugged Jill, I shook hands with the band, and so ends my final night here. It was so good to be here and I'm
Thankful for the little things that can change a night from frustrating into magical.

This night was definitely that and tomorrow I head home. There is a lot I will miss here. Especially the musical tastes. I actually like listening to the radio. Everyone here knows good music.

That said, my love waits for me in Georgia and I really want to be there right now. I come back to them, happy but longing.

I'm glad I came here. I really am.

The Story in a Story

People that don't understand are one matter. People that do not try are another.

I'm mostly over it, but I was a bit irritated at the venue my uncle Jerry is playing in because my uncle and dad demanded I stop "texting" and put away the phone.

As you may have noted from reading any entry previous, this is the first time I have been here in over 10 years. I have taken pictures and posted on every channel I have about all of it. Surely this had to be noticed as I commented on this out loud several times.

You could imagine my irritation when it was queried, "You gonna do that all night" followed by the statement "Put that away."

I can understand to a degree. There's an age gap and in that gap, there is a large disparity about how this generation handles communication. I straddle the fence between the old and the new. I understand the need for balance and just putting the damn thing away to enjoy things.

At the same time, I'm not home. This is not an easily repeatable experience. I want to record everything and share everything and, yes: I can do that while enjoying the sights and sounds and smells where I am.

What bothers me is that there was no attempt to understand where I'm coming from. No attempt to think, "He's never seen this before, maybe he's recording." Not even a cursory, "Whatcha doin?" or "Hey, we want you put that away and enjoy with us."

Of course that last part came with, "I wonder what's wrong...?" Which I ignored and they've written off as "Meh, I dunno..."

Things like piss me off and if I could I would just walk home.

They don't know the ache in my soul to share my life that's plagued me since the age of 10 and journal one. They don't understand the role online relationships and social media have and why it matters and how I feel about them (which is both positive and negative and always approached in balance with caution).

The thing that bothers me most is that the person that doesn't understand this -- two of them -- asked me to put away the phone. I'd rather hear that from someone like Jill that understands where I am.

Sadly she understands more than the other two and only just met me.

Thanks to Fatima's joyful spirit I was swaying along in no time, but I'll be bogeyed by this for a while.

If you've ever been bothered by my constant need to hear and understand you, stories like this point to why; misunderstanding hurts and it had been the greatest source of pain in my life and I refuse to give that pain to another.

My Father's Son

This visit has been so many things leading to today. Eye-opening and funny.

I've lived with my mom most of my life and I take many a trait from there, but today I observed that so many things within me that are emerging are from my father's line.

Alton is a ninja. Grandma is elegant, graceful and warm with a sharp edge. Grandpa is straight gangsta. Jerry is curious and funny. Brandon is observant and painfully honest. Tarina is quiet joy. All of the men share my bodily features; height, hairline, skin textures... all of it.

It caused so much unexpected, unbridled joy for everyone to see me there. 14 years stored up with love were spilled out so much. I took a lot of pictures.

People were married. People existed that did not exist when I was there last. Everyone that met me for the first time liked me. I also liked them. Laughter flowed through. Old wounds were opened here and there and we're just as quickly closed.

Jill was glad to finally meet me in person. Every embrace was met with laughter by me and each person that hugged me. Contact info was exchanged. It was so much but yet not enough. There were the questions of course; where had I been? Why so silent for so long? Not a touch of hurt, though. Pure curiosity on where life's roads had led me in love and adulthood. All met with nods and understanding.

With that, the night ended and we were all pretty tired.

Now home, thoughts and feelings from many corners are filling my mind, but of them all, as much as I love my mom, I am clearly my father's son.

With the Fam

I love you and I'm missing you terribly but even in that, my hours have laughter in their wake. Being with my family inspires so much joy in just their being.




My uncle laughing and saying, "Yes and thank you" when the TV announces that shopping at Sacs 5th Avenue is not black Friday shopping.

The guys watching varying sports and joking while the girls busy themselves making this and that. It's just how they are.

We're listening and talking about iPhones and Droids and putting more sugar in the fruit punch.

It's these people that I inherit so much of who I am from. Even in our deepest seriousness, there's a bit of mirth and faith that things will be as they should be.

We love hard here and everyone is welcome. I'll miss this when I return home but for now, I enjoy every moment of it even as I sit here and write.




Oh, and I kinda look cute. ♥

Sleeping with Dad

It was getting late and Dad said he avoids being out in the rain as it gives him head cold, so GE spent the night.

"Do you roll up in the blanket at night because if so, we need to talk about that..."

I had to laugh. We ended up talking about my uncle who is notorious for this. He asked me to wake him up at 7:20 or so in the morning so he could be off to prepare for work. I told him I would.

He slept in bed next to me.

I played with the phone for a bit bd talked to Hime-chan for a bit before finally sleeping. I woke up around 5:30 and turned over a bit. I, of course, couldn't sleep, so I watched him sleep. He was still and made little sound. Much like me.

I watched the time and waited for the next two hours to pass. I finally saw the time and remembered my promise. I started to wake him. Grandma also came down the hall to wake him.

I couldn't even suppress the thoughts of, "Daddy, do you have to go...?" even as I was telling him he did. Very odd feeling.

Finally he got out of bed, put on clothes, and got ready to leave. I stayed awake and watched him move about. He came back to the bed and I sat up to meet him.

We both hugged each other and wished things were otherwise. I told him I loved him in sotto-voce and he said the same.

"I'll see you soon, ok?"

"Ok. Stay out of the rain. Don't take candy from people in unmarked white vans."

I'm lying in bed. I don't want to start my day yet.

Commune time is going to be essential today.i wish I knew what to sub for pullups.

This Guy

My dad came here after work. My dad who I talk about and miss all the time. This guy.




I have never been more thankful that I can just drop my pride and really love people. I simply clung to him and grinned from ear to ear. He just laughed. His house-filling, bass tone laugh and held onto me. I can't even express how that felt.

He tried to talk to me, but I just nodded and kept holding on. He understood and kept laughing.

We walked into the kitchen and watched a little bit of "Dancing with the Stars" where he made a ton of hilarious if irreverent comments.

He touched me all over the place -- my arms, back, chest and shoulders -- and commented that I seemed to be a lot more muscular. He asked if I was going to the gym or if I had been. I told him I work out at home. He compared me to my younger brother Percell.

Percell plays football and is built like a tank. Needless to say, I felt complimented.

Afterward, we came to the back of the house. We took pictures like this:




After that we just laid there next to each other, talking about life. I work, exercise and dance. Not much else to say there. Then again, I take 26-hour bus trips.

He laughed at that last part as I explained the story. He talked to me about things like where he met my mom. We looked at some old pictures of him (I know where my latent fashion sense comes from; dude was shaaaarp), talked about my sister Jhonei's new baby boy, David, and just laughed at life.

He saw me texting and said I should put a speedometer on my thumb.

He also played football on his phone. He's making a sandwich and I'm contemplating sleep and some other, secret things.

Again, moments like this make me forget what I'm missing for a moment.

I love this man.

A Touch of Home

Walking for a couple of miles today, I notice that everything is just as I left it.

The block is still the block. There's always construction happening. People dress in interesting and cool ways.

My grandparents are still my grandparents. They're so happy to see me. Grandpa was here when I arrived. After talking to him a bit, I went to lie down and passed out for four blissful hours.

By the time I woke up, grandma was home. She and I hugged for a while; she felt sweet. It's hard to explain that, but she really did. So much love in that one act. A simple hug with tears of "I missed you. I love you. I can't believe you're finally here..." wrapped in it.

They use landline phones. They live in the same apartment. They have tons of stuff they'll never use. I caught her up on everyone back in Georgia. We ate fish and fries for dinner. Grandpa wanted grits, so had some of that, too.

We watched some of Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune and guessed the puzzles together. It was like being 10 again. I just sat here taking in all of the moment I was in and I forgot all that I missed for a while.

Miss AJ called and wanted to see me. We're going to New Jersey for thanksgiving. Varying family asked how I was and to hear the excitement in their voices that I'm so near to them where I'm usually so far away... I don't think one week was enough to be here.

Grandma is kinda sad I'm leaving and I haven't even left yet; she asked three times if I absolutely have to go to work Monday (I do).

Some things have changed. Grandma is closer to the front of the house now so I'm in a bedroom near the back.

Other things remain intact. She still falls asleep if she stays still too long. She still spends a lot of time in the kitchen and bustles about in there a lot. She still offers me a ton of dessert after dinner (which I declined today, by the way. Maybe tomorrow).

I managed to make my way to the back, update the world on my doings, get a dance in and have commune time.

Commune time had me thinking back a few weeks and I realize that I still feel exactly as I did then. Maybe a bit more strongly. A bit more fiercely. I remember hearing, "I'm not perfect. I want you to know that..." and then, as you surrender to my commitment to love you, "Remember this moment. Remember your feelings right now."

I did and I still do. It only gets better with the time that passes. More solid.

I thought more, but that's something more to be said in person than in journal.

My eyes ache hardcore. I may opt for sleeping early. I wish I knew what to do instead of pullups since I can't do that or lift weights tomorrow. Creativity: activate!!

I also took some pictures when I got here.










That said, I want to thank, Minnellis, Ivan and Hime-chan very specifically for checking on me and chatting with me throughout my trip.

I'll get back to thinking and enjoying my reverie now. Other things happened, but I'll throw that in later.

brothers

I am just not doing well with younger brothers.

:: PRINCE

He came by this friday, no call or anything, to see me. Normally, I wouldn't care, but I've been ill with him for the last month since the last time he and my mom got into a spat and he moved out. That spat had the whole fam mad at him for a while because he was dead wrong. Even worse, he came to ask me for money (which I didn't give him until my mom called the next day and asked me to).

It's been months of me not yelling at him or trying to remove his head from his shoulders as he walks around with this grand sense of entitlement like my mom should just understand if he decides not to call when she asks him to. I call to check in now and then at 29 and I wouldn't think of walking into my mom's house late with prior notice regardless.

Whatever.

:: PERCELL

Remember this conversation? I do. He called and asked if I could talk. I couldn't as I was in Wal-Mart, but even if I could, I don't want to. What would I have to say other than things that, from the last time I read, are unwanted anyway? I ask too many prying questions and all that so whatever. I wish people knew how serious I am when I say I'm done with someone and I'm really done with him for a while. I mean, he's fam -- I can't hate him always, but we're not talking right now and that's that.

a short word on family

In my more hurt moments (I'm trying to avoid anger here), I try to extract some kind of lesson. The context is this. My younger brother made a comment and responded in the following stream of text. You can follow from bottom to top:

Now as for my need to "have something to say", it's things like "I'm feeling [insert negative emotion here]" to which I say "[insert encouraging thing here]". "Why do you have to say something? I don't say anything when you post things like this."

Mind you, I have no problem with people trying to be encouraging and help me feel better if it comes from the heart. He seems to hate this with all of his heart. I don't know why... but maybe this second part helps, again, bottom to top:

The fact is that all of my friends know that if I see them in trouble, I try to help. Sometimes, that is saying nothing, sometimes I give them money or time or an ear or a shoulder or my raw unadulterated thoughts. In any case, it's not a matter of me being opinionated (how many people see me that way) as much as having (1) the will to help and (2) the experience or insight to make my will possible.

This is met with what equates to an elaborate version of, "Fuck off."

Oh, okay then.

Maybe he feels like I'm trying to be his dad by offering the simplest of encouragements or advice. I don't tell him not to drink. I don't talk to him about drug use or his sex life or any of his personal affairs aside from the ones he posts and that infrequently and usually a relatively "safe" topic.

It seems that there isn't a subject safe enough. He just wants me to be around or nearby and call now and then. I guess he's content to know that I'm alive, but wants me at further than arm's length away and that's as much of a relationship as he wants with me. He can call and ask for money if he needs it (have done before), or just to shoot the breeze (have done that), but I can't ever let it be more than that. I suppose the lesson here is to be spoken to and not speak.

At moments like this, I can only pray that he never requires any true strength from this familial relationship, because the way he behaves, if he ever did need that strength, it would fail him and it would be no one's fault but his own.

I can't go back in a time machine and live with my dad. The parent I lived with was not my choice and life took its course accordingly. If I'm just someone with an "older brother complex" and not an older brother to him, then I'll just be some person on the periphery of his life and be content with that.

It sucks, though. Essentially, I'll end up treating him like TJ, David, Willie, and so many other people that have passed out of my life up to this point and, from what I gather, I should feel nothing about that.

I suppose that's what I should do. Be my own person and ignore the fuck out of him...

Okay, as he wishes.

Our Father, Who Art In Heaven...

I'm going to give you a bit of myself and, in doing so, I hope to help you see what I see today.

In my younger years, I didn't know who my father was. My stepdad was a Jamaican man from Kingston. He and my mom fought a lot. I had two grandparents. People don't normally have two (at least, I didn't think so). I was told about this man. His name was Johnny.

I met him face-to-face for the first time when I was 8 or so. He met me at my grandmother's house and we would go for walks or to the park. When I met him, a whole world opened up to me that I didn't know about. I had more brothers. More sisters. A stepmom. So much information to process in such a short time.

However, I didn't live with him. I didn't grow up with him. I grew up with my mom. My mom moved to Georgia. I went back to NY now and then to see him and talk to him and be with my grandparents. I asked questions that filled my mind and noticed how... alike we were. Generally jovial, deep thinkers, emotional, everything down to our hairline and unruly skin.

This man in front of me is my history. Part of my identity. It's been this way for a long time across many cultures: a boy watches his dad, goes with him to work, learns what his dad does, becomes an apprentice and so the story goes. Children are usually very much like their parents. This man was a glimpse into my future; that is to say, one day, I will be like this man. At the time, I barely knew who he was.

...but why?

Why wasn't he there when I was younger? Why didn't he come by the house? Why didn't he send me presents on Christmas? Why couldn't he be there for varying school functions? Why couldn't he be there to ask all the questions I knew I would eventually need to ask about life later?...

Those questions would come later. The first hurdle to cross was: what do I call you?

Johnny. I call you 'Johnny'. They told me that was your name. I didn't know who you were then, though....

That's what ran through my head for years until I was 15 and I took this step: I called him 'Dad' for the first time. This was a loaded word to me. For some, that word conjures the image of a man that you have been with all your life that has provided for you and your family and read you bedtime stories and was there for you in every way any human being can be with all the love they could join to it and that is AWESOME...

... but then there are other people and a majority of you reading this will be those people.

• Your dad donated a sperm cell and a name. You haven't seen him since and if you did now, he's so irrelevant to your life it would be more like an annoying TV commercial than a reunion. Even worse, you've tried to be reunited with this man and he makes zero (or less) effort to return that effort.

• Your dad was active in your life... but only in the negative. Abuse - physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, drunkenness, other things you don't even dare to allow yourself to think about until you are behind three locked doors so people don't see you cry since you never do unless you think about that man.

• Your dad and mom were together for a while and you knew him, but he suddenly left without a word of explanation and no further contact. Maybe, in a rare case, he's recently come in contact and you're angry about it because you can't figure out why he would bother.

Then there's this story with me. My dad doesn't fall into any of these categories. That's good and bad, but the story is the same. Not having him there hurt for a long time and in minor ways, it continues to. I wish he were here to talk to about things that I struggle to figure out. I wish I could get his wisdom in person for some things. I wish I could show him something cool I did or something neat I made or show him the place I work or....

Back to that living room, though. In that living room, I looked at him, breathed deeply, and said "Good morning, Dad."

Good morning, Dad... it still brings tears to my eyes to even remember. We had said good morning every morning for several mornings for several years and every one of them ended with Johnny until that morning. The sun was coming up, we were in his apartment in the living room on the 19th floor...

"Good morning, Dad." It was more powerful than I knew at the time. At the age of 15, this was the greatest act of forgiveness I've done before or since that moment. Every time I speak to him now, I call him Dad. Dad means, I forgive you. We cannot change the past, but we can use the present to make our future better. I choose to love you. To have a relationship with you. To be a part of your life and to let you be as much a part of mine as you want. I don't hold your mistakes and imperfections and shortcomings against you. I don't care that you weren't around when I was younger. I choose to deal with whatever negative consequences not having you around brings into my life without throwing them in your face whenever I see you. I won't use guilt to control you. I would rather have my future with you than to live without you.

That's a lot for one word. The dictionary would say otherwise, but there are a lot of words we use like that:

• mom
• friend
• sister
• brother

They're all imperfect and they do things that hurt us and in the end, if we want a future with them, we have to choose to forgive them. That's what it means to love someone.

I wasn't to find out for several years that, for someone who is 'fatherless' like we feel we are (or actually are), there is one great Father from whom all earthly fathers are derived and we are never without Him. Learning how to receive love from Him is important (and very difficult without a lot of help) for those of us with broken relationships with our fathers.

So this day, for me, is a day of love and forgiveness and great emotion. I wake up, I pick up the phone, and I say "Good morning, Dad" and there's so much love there and it's one of the few moments that I hate hate HATE to hang up my phone.

Maybe you could have that today. Maybe you could choose to be open to allowing this man -- whatever title you've given him -- a space in your heart. Not a big one, but just big enough to let him build a small, comfortable corner. Naturally, you'll be wary at first. That's fine. It's new and it's weird, but the benefit of that forgiveness is that, no matter what he does, there sting is less; forgiveness is for you, not for him and if you can look at him and love him -- not hate him, not feel nothing -- but love him, then maybe you can laugh a little longer, a bit more deeply and be you as you are with more confidence for having done that. A little bit more love for having done that. Maybe it will allow you to shed fewer tears or maybe a few more happy ones.

I know it certainly did for me.

Did I struggle? Do I struggle now? Yes and yes, but a lot less. It's part of figuring things out and I'll share anything about that if you want to know, but in the end there is no pain for me on this day. Just a longing to hug him for a long time and have coffee.

It would be nice if you had that, too.

For those of you whose dads have passed on or just don't keep up with you, give that love to someone that has been like a father and/or older brother to you. Give it to your mom or your grandparents or whomever raised and loved you (broken as it may have been) and let them know how much you've appreciated having them around.

Oh, and you might want to make a point of doing that more often than today, but today is a good start.

I posted this on my other blogs, but goodness it hurt to say all of this. I think the people I care about are worth it, though.

about that minimalism thing: part 5

It's an epidemic!!!!!!!!!!1111111!!oneoneone!

Seriously, it's friggin' contagious. It seems that a lot of my friends, hearing and reading about my efforts to downsize are all catching the vibe now. Even better, they are feeling more productive, more free, and more empowered to remove unnecessary things from their lives so they can focus on the things most important to them.

It's a good place to be in, I think. People are asking important questions like: "What is this and how did I get it?" I think we have a lot of things in our lives like that. I have a few in mine. Clutter and all manner of mess here and there and I wonder sometimes where it came from.

Back to my personal efforts, here's some sum up. First off, I finally got all of the things donated to Goodwill! Big burden off my shoulders. I gave James all of his dishes back and they are downstairs in a side cabinet that is hard to reach. We never use them now. Having moved everything out that I didn't want, I took the time to look again at the things I have left. I had some posters scattered about the room and a bookshelf in a corner, so I decided to move them all to the same wall and rotate my desk 90 degrees or so. This is the outcome:

I loved the feel of being creative while making this all work together. Some of this has changed a bit; I hung my hat on the wall. I hung keys on the wall. All in all, it's a beautiful wall and a very unique creative space. I like it a lot. It also clears out a lot of space for photography things since the other three walls are now bare of any material. I feel like I should be drawing comic books!

I went shopping this weekend and bought a few things:

All of them are cool. I'm a big fan of accessories, so that's most of what I bought. Also grabbed some underwear, cologne and scented candles instead of incense. Should be nice. I cleaned out a lot of things from my accessory box, too, so now all of the things in there are accessories that I wear which is nice.

Today, I hung out with Hollie and Brandon for lunch today. Brandon was nice enough to take a completely silly picture of us:

Side notes you'll find funny: my underwear matches this shirt. Other than that, so did the accents on the necklace I wore with this. It's rosary-styled, which I like a lot. Fun to wear and I looked nice.

I might need to think about new dress pants, though.

Downloaded some new music, but got rid of more as I'm downsizing nonsense that I don't like listening to so that every song I hear on my iPod makes me excited when it comes on.

My mood about so many things is changing. I hate seeing people at night at my house now except for like ten people... LOL. Who am I kidding? Most times lately, I think I need to be alone. It's like solitude is calling my name and no one can hear this but me. Ah well, I guess it will take a bit longer before I can get this settled. I've also been drawing more. Working from home is going ok. Getting things done here and there. I helped direct my first podcast. That was fun. Talking to people a bit about a lot of cool things. There's a lot of good things going on around here and I think it's just the beginning of many such things.

More minimalism.

More good things.

Oh yeah, there was some family drama. It made me stabby. No lie. One of my younger brothers was supposed to pick up the other and didn't because he fell asleep. My mom thought he was out on the road. I had to commandeer someone's car and be on the APB for the next 45 minutes and take my brother home from work. Again, this is in a car that is NOT my car. I decided I would be incognegro (thanks, Bracha) for the rest of the weekend. (~_~#)

Talking to Cedric and Davonte has been interesting as well as they are newer acquaintances and moving toward friendship. Speaking of friends, I miss Whit, John, Anna, and Reza. I'm still dealing with and facing realities and trying to be realistic and real and all this. Hard work, honestly. There's so much going on...

Oh, and I'm watching anime, too. ;)

That's about it for me on that side.

girls and family

There are so many thoughts here for things that I need to see when my last update was....

... okay. So I already blogged about the wedding (pictures posted, btw). Since then, there have been conversations and such that we will cover here.

To start, there is this girl I'm talking to. I've known her for a long time and decided to ask her out. It's been about three weeks now. We discussed quite a few things that I've already talked about concerning that. Recently, we had a late night talk because she sent me an IM stating, "Not even a hello? smh." At 12:30am, I was annoyed at this and stated that she needed to chill. At this point, the computer very conveniently [/sarcasm] decided to lock up on me. When I restarted, I was greeted with, "I would like a moment of your time if you would..." This evolved into a five hour conversation during which I gathered from all commentary: "I want you to be my boyfriend, but I don't want to call you my boyfriend".

I don't understand this. Not at all. Why would someone expect you to chase after them with everything in you, but not want to be in a full-on relationship until May of the following year, THEN ask "but why aren't you chasing me"?

Sometimes, it's enough to just make me wanna be gay and avoid this nonsense. I'm just trying to be logical. SMH.

This spills into my younger brother's life and even my mom's. It's all the same: "why are these people about some nonsense....?"

Whatever.

Chillin with the fam was fun and dramatic as always. We really enjoyed ourselves, though. Ate a bit, played video games, reminisced and traded information... some of which I was mildly shocked by. It was intense stuff.

Life with my new roommates is going very well. Aside from the fact that things disappear faster than I would like, these guys are just fantastic altogether. We all hang out together, they keep the place clean most of the time, they help when they are asked to help and usually do more than asked. They're super friendly, easy to get along with, and drama free. Nice stuff.

Secret Santas are coming up. I know whoever got my list will hate it :P First item: iPod Touch (I pull no punches).

The other day, I was talking to Brandon. He mentioned that he feels (and is concerned that) the path God has him on - were he to pursue it hardcore - would cut me out of his life. I encouraged him to do it anyway. In spite of appearances to whatever end, I am a person that, at the core, believes in Jesus and being obedient to Him as best one can. I encourage him still to do the thing that God tells him to and if that means life without me, then so be it. His life is more important to me than our friendship. He has to have that peace and I won't be selfish enough to get in the way of it.

I was thinking about who I am and what I've become in the mirror the other day... and I smiled. It felt good to know that I am content -- never satisfied -- but content with where and who I am in life. Learning, growing, changing a whole lot. I could use a bit more sleep and maybe a bit more introspection. I won't say I'm perfect, but I will say I'm fine. That is happiness all its own.

There's a lot more I've been thinking a bit more closely about, but we'll get to that another time.

One more thing, got annoyed because, yet again, someone asked a friend of mine AND NOT ME if I was gay. WTF. This person has me as a FB friend on top of that. Seriously: I'm not afraid to be asked a freakin question, so effin ask me. Not difficult!!!! I know my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and that can be intimidating, but if you're not going to ask ME about ME, then don't ask other people because they tell me every time it happens. Grow a pair FFS.

T_T

persian parties

So I went to go visit Reza this weekend ♥.

First, we surprised him with coming up on Friday. We came in to a massive group of people dancing and partying until the late hours of the night until I was told that the late night festivities were over a wedding.

This caught everyone else by total surprise -- I just simply forgot in my excitement to get there. Oh well. No worries for me. We met the soon-to-be wifey and headed upstairs to laugh, chill, talk, etc. Of course, I got comfortable after a while of this and passed out. It was well late by then.

The next morning, we got up. I took a shower. More talking about a whole bunch of things. Charlene came up, but that passed without much being said.

Something came up, so Reza and Brett left to take of the matter. Should only take a few minutes...

...they returned four hours later. At the same time, I had already said we needed to be home at 5:30pm or so... That was when we left. As we are making our way, it is suggested that we take a 45 minute detour.

I was livid. I had things to do and I had made that a known fact.

Finally got home, the thing I had to do was rescheduled. I suited up for a wedding and made my way there. Fun times. Pictures were taken and there were three hours of dancing. Persian girls are cute, too, by the way.

Going on, we make our way home. We stop because I needed to drive as the driver was tired at which point I am told, "You said you would help me with gas..." I know what I said. What I don't know is why I am stopping here at 1:45am. I can give you a $10 bill and let you get gas at a later time. I want to go home... which again I had mentioned earlier. Oh well. Got $12 of gas and then I drove home, irritated, because I hate taking detours. I just want to get where I'm going. Mid-afternoon without plans? I'm fine. 2am when people start sleeping and I have to be awake to direct two tons of metal and other bits on wheels? Not so much.

Ugh!

Now I'm writing this because I'm too irritated to sleep and the irritant is sleeping here because they are too tired to drive home. >_<

At least Reza, his new mom, his brother and his dad were happy to see us and were glad we could make it to the wedding. We were also told we were amazing dancers. Maybe I should take proper dancing lessons for Persian dances :D

through the deadline

I finally got the work done that I couldn't focus on yesterday. Got to the office and I'm working on things.

In the midst of things, my dad called. My world stopped.

I. LOVE. HIM.

After a lovely chat with him that never seems long enough, I was back to working on this computer. Hopefully all will go well and I will have good things to report at the end of day today.

Aside from this, I have a few other things to report.

:: Workout ::

It's about time for me to retrace a few steps now that I have weather to support these habits I enjoy, so I'm picking up on all the training I can for martial arts and freerunning. So far, it's going okay. Some things I'm thinking about accelerating for aesthetics.

I have an online rival that goes by Req and I love him to pieces. We're very committed to this training regimen, but we joke about pwning each other a lot. This usually ends up with rather funny conversations that are borderline trash talk, but in the end we respect each other and hope to spar one day. Maybe I'll get into a decent bar fight one day and test my mettle.

Anyways, he posted a new avatar with his aspired body type. Here it is.

Interesting. His metabolism would support it. He and I have a similar build, so we won't get really huge, but muscular we can do. I asked him to find one that he thought I could aspire to and that brought me to mind when he saw it. Here was the first character.

Finding black characters in anime is hard to find, but I told him it didn't matter. After a bit of thought, he decided to find another one. It took him a while to find before he settled on this character:

Bruce from Tekken, huh?

Heartless Angel says:

http://img10.imageshack.us/i/bruceu.jpg/

There get like him!

emocionado para regresar says:

damn son

you think i'm on tht level?

Heartless Angel says:

you can get there

^^

GET THERE!

or if you want to photoshop

emocionado para regresar says:

if you really see that in me

then I'll make it happen

Heartless Angel says:

Then go ahead

Im pretty sure you can do it

emocionado para regresar says:

muay thai style fighter. hm

Heartless Angel says:

That's my favorite

It's nice when you have friends that believe in you and I'm finding out I have more lately than I have in my whole life up until now. To say I am thankful for them would be an understatement.

Lately, the friendship between Rickey, Sanquan and myself is becoming sweeter. I love them more than ever now and that love is returned almost constantly. I'm very glad for them. I'm thankful for anyone that loves me back, but these relationships are a bit above the norm for me in some ways.

That and my friendship with John. We're both strangers in a strange land, but because of that, our friendship is also deepening. We rely on each other more and I find an odd strength in knowing and admitting that and I think he feels the same way.

Things between myself and Pollux are also starting to reform a bit. I'm loving the process. Our friendship is hard-fought for, but it's valuable, too. I lit a candle for him last night and got him to blow it out while making a wish -- today is his birthday.

So much to say about so much, but all summed up, life is hard, life is good, life is beautiful.

on a day like today

Most people I run into have issues with their dad, but I really love mine. He's absolutely wonderful and I love everything about him except for one thing:

He's not here.

I don't mean to say that he died. He's alive. It's just that he's many hundreds of miles away from me. I remember that his name was Johnny for a long time. I met him when I was 8 because my mom thought it was time.

I found out all sorts of things. I had other brothers and sisters and even a stepmom. New things. All of it. Took me years to say the word "dad" and see him when I said it. I worked very hard for that. I visited every summer I could for a long time. My grandma Overton probably thought I just like grandma Dugger more, but it was just that it gave me time to see him again.

We were so much alike. We could talk for hours, he loved walking and looking around and he was fine with letting me play video games and walk on the beach. He always wanted to be with me as much as he could and I could tell.

Then college came up, and working with that. When I graduated, he made every effort to be here and I had my second cup of White Chocolate Mocha with him. It was a really hot day, too. I held him like I would never see him again that day.

It has been a little over four years since that day. I was okay with just keeping the thoughts abstract until my brother, Zion, whom I have not seen since he was three years old, added me on twitter today. I smiled thinking of him, but thinking of him reminded me of my dad. He's with him right now and I am here, being an adult, trying to make sense of all of this madness and be the best man I know how and working a lot and I can't just drop everything and go to New York and hug him. I wish with all that I am that I could, but instead all I feel like doing is crying.

This has to be the worst timing in the world -- I'm working on a critical work-related project, but can't focus because I'm so out of it.

I miss you, Dad. I miss you and trains, and coffee, and the fact that you like me. You don't think there is anything wrong or odd about me in spite of everything else I've heard in my life. I miss your laugh, I miss looking at you and seeing myself. I miss your dreadlocks and your booming, house-filling laughter. I wish I had more time to talk to you about everything -- I can't even remember all the things I've wanted to ask you over the years. I hate the fact that you're not here. I just sent you a picture and a text message, but it's not the same and you being here...

This doesn't feel good at all.

where friends should be

I went to spend the night with Turk and fell asleep almost an hour later. We got there pretty late, though. It was lovely, though. I had a whole night's sleep and everything.

The next day, we had breakfast and was told that I needed to get dressed. Today was a special day -- they were going to see their grandmother's grave today and pay respects. We packed lawn chairs and iranian food and headed there. The music was cool on the way.

I listened to them talk about their favorite memories as we laid roses on the site. We offered dates and walnuts to every person that walked by. Everyone searched for appropriate words to say about varying things they loved about this woman. She loved everyone. She disciplined the kids. She tried to learn english. She loved to say "Thank you very very much..." When it came to my turn to ask about a memory, I asked what her favorite place to go was and what her favorite song was.

The song was a peaceful song and we let the song fill us up. Soon, we left and at that point, Ramin cried. Hard. I left the family to themselves for a moment and felt like a guardian angel watching them.

I thanked everyone for inviting me along and thought about this whole affair as we left. This is what it means to be a friend: to be laughter in joy and a tear in sorrow. They were kind to allow me to be there and I thank them for letting me share a little of their sorrow and a little of their joy.