Melancholy Solitude

I've been finding myself at wits end as of late. Frustrated at this point really. It's just one of those things in which you want it to happen, but then you're suppose to not want it so then it does happen. At the end of the day, all I can really do is just let out a big ol' sigh and carry on. Dating has become a sort maze I put myself through for various reasons and while I may complicate things further, I wouldn't feel comfortable without having clear communication and intention. But more than anything, as I continue to date and put myself out there, I realize that maybe this is what I need. Not that I enjoy being let down mind you, rather it presents an opportunity for me to continue working on the aspect of myself that deals with those setbacks when things don't work out.

While I can't help be melancholy, I do look at the positive and the growth I have made for myself. What would have taken months to realize now only takes weeks. I'm a better communicator, I do what I can to be mindful of the other person and make sure there is a balance in how things are split and shared going into something. Above everything else, I've had to work through a lot of issues that dug into me and were tied with being undocumented.

I don't think that'll ever stop being an issue, for different reasons, but I'm in a better place with than I've ever been. It's not so much about being able to access services, the system, and all that jazz, but more with my past experiences and how those turned out for the worst because I didn't have both the mental and emotional maturity to process those experiences in a healthy fashion. Just thinking back on how I use to deal with dating and set backs and I can't help but laugh.

However my experiences dating come to an end, I'm in a place where it doesn't throw me in a loop or sidetrack me like it would have once. I like that, yet I'm still left with a sort of longing for companionship above anything else. I do so much that I eventually get to a point in which I wanna share it with someone else. Whether it's going to the movies, museum, art show or even a gala event, I want to share that with someone else who can appreciate it as much as I do or is willing to learn about it with me. I enjoy doing all this stuff by myself, but the experience of sharing with someone else makes it even more special.

But I think that has been an underlying issue with me all this time. Past relationships I've been in, I've been doing the same thing. I'm the one getting invited to cool art shows, parties, movies etc. I'm the one that's like: let's check this out, you know. Whether it's something subconscious or just how things turns out, I have yet to date someone who gives me a run for my money. And it's not like I'm looking for someone that knows about more events or things to do, but someone that'll compliment that. And vice versa. I dunno, it's complicated and the fact I can't define it for myself only adds to the frustration.

At the end of the day, I want what anyone else wants out of a romantic relationship: to be with someone they can connect to one a deeper emotional, metal, spiritual level. To be with someone that will compliment you and vice versa. Someone you can growth with. Learn from each other and try new things. Someone I can cuddle with while watching netflix, you know. Seems like the solution to my problems would be to adopt a cat/dog, but I'm gonna avoid that route altogether and just stick it out. When it comes to matters of the heart, I have endless patience.  

     

Echoic Childhood Memories

Of all the sounds I remember growing up around as a kid, the music my father played in his drunken stuper's late into the night. Most Latinos/as and working class folks know what I'm talking about. Unless you didn't have a father figure in your life, which just makes this post awkward. Anyway, drunken father figures playing music really loud, yeah.

Growing up I wondered what the hell was going and why he needed 4 ft tall speakers to blast music I had no comprehension of, till now. Acting like a delayed recording that is only now kick in for various reasons, I find myself latching on to anything that plucks the strings of nostalgia. However, a lot of those romanticized memories come with the kind of emotional baggage and trauma that can slap you out of no where.

As a kid, I knew that my father getting drunk meant a few different things. It meant that random people would be over to the house, there would be barbecue on deck, a beer run to a store that also mean getting to buy a bunch of junk food and soda. That they would go late into the night talking about all sorts of random things while simultaneously playing music so loud that you can't hear anyone talk. And no matter how hard we pleaded with him to turn the music down or to go to sleep, it would just make it worse.

While I'm able to comprehend the situations I was in growing up with an alcoholic father, I find myself mirroring his behavior, for better or for worst. While I don't have kids to emotionally scar nor four foot speakers to blast music from when I'm drunk. I only have four inch speakers attached to a back pack, but some of the music is the same though. Sort of.

Rediscovering those tunes I heard in the middle of night as I tried to go to sleep have a different meaning now that I'm older and sober. I have a choice in how I can remember this music and I chose to enjoy it for what it is, music about heart-break and romance. Needless to say that my current binge of musical taste was inspired by real life events, but that's for another time.

Music today doesn't hold a candle to oldies and classics like Los Angeles Negros. It was another time and era, but their music is timeless. I literally spend hours listening to albums and playlist to rediscover as many bands as possible. And while my current obsession I'll eventually give way to heavy metal or wu-tang, I'll continue basking in them.

   

Of What Could Have Been

Often times, I find myself in spaces in which I wonder how I got there. Not so much that I'm lost and I'm somewhere I don't know where I am, but that in the scope of everything in between friendships and acquaintances I find myself in unique spaces. Lot of it has to do with networks and the spaces I put myself in. Art shows, concerts, political rallies etc. And every once in a while I look at where I am and I ponder of what could have been. Finding yourself surrounded by professionals and more college degrees than I can shake a stick at.

That kind of stuff comes to my mind not only because I'm observant of my surroundings, but because I've recently been dwelling on the fact that I am a college drop out. When I started out in school, I wanted to get a journalism degree and graduate with that. For all those years I've spent at my community college and then getting politically active with the DREAMER/undocumented student movement, I reassessed those journalistic endeavors and decided to focus those skills somewhere else.

So what does it say when I find myself in spaces that celebrate institutional success in academia, politics, and other high end professions? I like to think that it's a combination of the work I do mixed with those I know and sprinkled with a little bit of actively putting myself in these spaces. Comparisons and wondering what if can't be helped in terms of self reflection. I goes along with the territory. But it's something I don't dwell on much.

For everything that could have been and is yet to be, I'm proud of who I am and how I got here. I respect friends who put in their time in academia for years and they work hard for their hustle. Game recognize game if you will. I like dwelling in these moments every once in a while because they provide an opportunity to continue to analyze my own personal growth and to keep it at 100.  

Getting an education is a funny thing. For as long as I can remember, that's all I ever heard from everyone around me. Go to school and better yourself. Do more in life than we did. We need more people of color going to college and being professionals. Even in kindergarden, teacher would ask the class who wants to go to college, and everyone would raise their hand. If you didn't, which I did from time to time, they would single you out and shame you because you didn't have the same ambitions as everyone else.

It pretty much keeps going on like that and reinforced in every which way possible up until you get into college. So the other day I was thinking how I'm a college drop out now. I dwelled on that idea for a bit, you know, chewing on the fat on how I got to this point. More than anything, it's because I hate school. Rather, I hate the unfairly balanced system that fails to prepare individuals for the world and then penalize them for not being able to succeed within those already askewed permitters. Like, I sometimes I try to do things and it just doesn't work out the way I want it too.

And it's not like I don't understand or appreciate the power it has to empower individuals an lead them on a path that goes beyond anything else possible when you live in the hood. That there is a great need for POP to be active in those spaces, but at the same time school makes people into ass holes. Course that's not the standard by way of amazing teachers I've had and friends who aren't ass holes, but school is a fucked up institution that is not for everyone. I like to think I'm one of those everyones.

There's alotta push and pull factors when it comes with me and higher education. When I stop to think about it, enrolling in college was a literal turning point for me in my life. High School was nothing more than going through motions and graduating. I didn't start junior college until three years after high school, and even then my experiences went unorthodox and working class, with the added on layer of being undocumented. I went to school part time and I worked part time. I made my way forward chipping away at the stone bit by bit.

I was introduced to journalism through college and I wouldn't the person I am if it wasn't for that. I mean, I loved going to English class and discussing anglo saxon poetry because it reminded me soo much of heavy metal. I loved taking art history and deepening my love and appreciation for art. I took math because I had to and struggled the entire time. I don't deny that I was a passion for learning and education, but having too many shitty teachers and negative experiences drained all the fun out of it.

Me explaining how I spent seven years at a community college really has to do with the lack of direction, planning and splash of cold water to the face I got once I was in there. That whole narrative of being undocumented, going to school and working really hits you in the feels, so much so that I believed it myself. A lot of people invested and supported me in those years more than I could ever repay them back. From hot meals and floors to sleep on, I wouldn't be here without them nor been able to stay in school for that long.

Yet the idea that I still have to spend at least two more years in an institution of higher learning and writing papers and shit kills me. I have no doubt that finishing school would help me in some shape or form and I would finally finish what I have invested so much in, but I don't want to go back to school right now. The skills I have cultivated over the years put me in on par with anyone who has a college degree in what I do. Yet, I know that I'm limited in how far I can get and what opportunities are available to me, specially working with non-profits.

               

I Never Tell My Story The Same Way Twice

Recently, upworthy, a click-bait wed site, decided to highlight an old-ish documentary I was a part of, Limbo. I for one thought it was hilarious how they dug it up and got some clicks out of it. There was a cool minute of folks seeing it for the first time and recognizing me. I'm proud to have done this documentary and I'm always happy to share it when appropriate with others, but something about Upworthy just bugs me the wrong way. It feels like my work is being taken for someone else's purposes, as if they're not sharing it correctly, that make sense? Nother thing I started to think about was how I never told the same story twice. I catered to different crowds, but more than anything I just got at "telling my story." I've practiced it so many times that I knew which points to hit and at what crowds to not only engage the audience, but to fuck with people too. They expect you to be all sob story and inspirational because you've over come adversity, but I'd be up there telling jokes and being all casual about it, because that's how I am. For example.....

In this video, which was made a year ago, I am completely being myself and purposely doing what you see me doing in those pics. Why? cause fuck it, that's why. I'm not trying to look "cool" or show off, nah. At that point I was just tired of the same old rhetoric that is that of the "DREAMERS" movement. I've since long stopped identifying that way and have moved beyond it because of the complexities of the human experience. But I ain't gonna lie, I ham that shit up hahaha

Life Lessons from Riding a Bicycle

I've had a bike for as long as I can remember. As a kid, I would ride around the neighborhood with friends until I was called home. I would go around knocking over garbage cans on pick up days. I would go to the store or just ride around the block. I've also had numerous bikes on the count that I would be careless with them. It wasn't until I got tired of skating that I became serious about riding. What started out as a need of being able to get around, blossomed into a love for everything cycling.

I was beginning to connect with friends and spaces that used bicycles as a point to connect to larger, systematic issues of in equality, harassment, lack of equal representation and advocacy. I never heard the phrase 'accidental environmentalist' until I started becoming part of those spaces and I realized how just riding my bike was another tool to organize with.