Thank you TSA

(via mr2based)

First post in a while. Anyway, lately I’ve been dreaming lucidly. And for those who don’t know what lucid dreaming is, look it up.

Anyhow, Most of my dreams have revolved around people I know. Which is strange in that usually my dreams involve nobody that I know. 

*Fun fact: the brain cannot create faces. Strangers in your dreams are no more than faces the brain subconsciously/consciously stores. 

Going back to my dreams:

Lately, I’ve been interacting with people to whom I barely speak in my dreams. They seem to be marked with a lack of verbal communication, suggesting that I don’t really talk to them in real life. In one case, I follow a group of people and simply observe them. Now I really have no idea what the hell goes on in my thought process as I dream. Everything sort of seems like half-thought actions. From writing down my dreams, the conclusions I come to are as follows:

People I don’t talk to remain that way. I probably watch them because that is probably as close as I will ever get to in real life.

People I do talk to in my dreams aren’t very significant because I don’t remember much of what they say.

People I do care about don’t speak, but stay within my vision.

Either way, I’m creeped out that my dreams are resembling reality. 

Are super great when someone compares something to life. It shows that the individual narrowly associates an aspect of an object with small parts of life, but it also shows that that person has the intellect to derive meaning from something insignificant compared to life and therefore establishes a bit of enlightenment from that insight.



ANYWAY, other than that, analogies are crappy ways to screw yourself over in an argument when the other side finds a way to use it against you :D

Ch. JUAN: Hispanistache

“Salsa Verde es muy picante mama”.

Those were my first words as my mother wiped the tortilla crumbs off of my searing hot lips.

Life went great for the first few years of my existence. I drank horchata as a baby with a splash of tequila. My first poncho, a bright yellow fabric of sun rays, graced my body and shielded me from the elements, and yet despite the irony of my brightness, my heart was dark. In the urban setting of Mexico City, my dress code changed: no longer could I walk free with my sun rays (that is the name of my unique poncho that nobody has). The khakis and plaid complemented the vans on my feet as I strode the metropolis known as ciudad de México.

(me being ironic)

Unlike the previous photo you see here, I do in fact have the hispanistache. That day, the sun was blistering and I had to shave.

Going back to my memoir:

“RAMSEEES! Conseguir su culo aquí ahora!!!” I heard from afar.

Who other than my Puerto Rican friend whom we called PR (yet again the irony…). His raggedy-ass American truck roared through the slums of Mexico City as people made ironic glances at us. We sang songs before they were cool,

“Gucci Gucci Louis Louis Fendi Fendi Prada perras básicos usar esa mierda y no me molesta.”

Then some dumb bitch took our lyrics and made it “cool”. I vowed to never again shave my hispanistache.

It’s Ironic that you’d think this chapter was about my JUANderful thick hispanistache.

This isn’t one of those corny shout-outs that don’t mean anything. Nor is it in any way some form of glorification pertaining to a close set of people I’ve known for a while. If anything, it’s a quick analysis of why I have my closest friends and why they’ll stay that way for as long as they want to be.

People will be people, that’s a given. My public speaking textbook talks about a hierarchy of needs in which social needs follow self-esteem and self-actualization. After reading that, I thought that the social aspect of life contributes to the upper two needs and that the order of importance for those three should be more or less equal. Anyway, I’ve been sitting alone in my house for a while and I randomly thought of my friends instead of studying for my final and really started thinking as to why I’m really friends with them and this is all I could say about it:

1. I didn’t have a huge choice growing up: As fucked up as this sounds, I really didn’t have much of a choice in who my friends would be in terms of rational decisions. Everything was playground mentality. No one considered feelings (aside from happy and not happy). As a result I sort of stuck around those that were within the norms of the group that made me happy (in kid terms). It was only through the public education system and knowing how to use a telephone did this process slowly start to change, but being able to knock on a friend’s door is much more satisfying than a phone call.

(this was more or less what most kids’ friendships were like in elementary school)

2. I just spend a lot more time with them: People like to do things they like in most cases. Why (aside from underhanded motives) they do that seems pretty obvious doesn’t it? We like certain things about people and we try to get more out of that. This is probably why really good friends can whip out the long conversations or do nothing but sit and shut up and get similar results. For some people, this doesn’t happen until middle school, or even at all.

3. They teach you things: Friends, well people in general, teach you things. I learned that it’s not friends that come and go, it’s people that do; and unless you want to work over some mistake when the other person isn’t willing to understand, then it’s a hard road up. At least in the cases of fair and unfair, my friends taught me everything I knew.

To state any particular reason as to why my friends popped up in my mind, I just thought of what a world without my closest friends would be like, and I realized that that would suck. Thanks for being there for me guys.

Right before I went to sleep last night, I thought about how cold it was, if the doors were locked etc. Then I brushed my teeth and thought about how brushing one’s teeth is pretty cool because I think of things like that. Then it occurred to me that somehow, our values change.

Consider this: up until thirty to fifty years ago (depending on what state), being colored had little perks in America. To marry a person of non-caucasian descent was in short, bad. Today, to promote the idea of a homogenous race through marriage makes us think of hillbilly incest racists (if not, then carry on).

Just a thought.

Perhaps someday I can play the banjo.

Recently, I’ve been looking closely at how people talk. It sounds stalker-ish and whatnot, but I find it interesting. There’s a couple of words that strike me as odd and tell me a little bit about who the speaker is:

Sure: A less confident version of “yes” A reflection of the speaker as well seeing that they can’t answer with a complete affirmative response.

Really?!: Either you’re actually interested in what I have to say, you were ignoring me until you heard something that interested you so that I could repeat what I said, or you’re trying to get your way out of this conversation.

Cool: Not cool. I’m only saying it to respond to what you said so I won’t have to talk more.

COOOOOL!!!: I’m more enthusiastic about my friends that I am about myself and/or my life is boring and I want to seem like a fun person.

Anyway, I also found that people’s word choice varies from mood to mood. interesting stuff.

Honestly, I’ve been stressing about college a couple of months longer than I really needed to. Anyhow, I came upon a couple of questions about life and the meaning of life itself. It’s not that I want to learn any deeper truths, I just want some more insight into why I live the way I do. Recently, I’ve only found joy in distancing myself from people. Observing others and playing tricks on them seems great, but it’s meaningless. Perhaps for me, the “meaning of life” doesn’t really exist. I see life as just a fact. Don’t infer that there’s no afterlife, I believe in one, but seeing that no one alive has been there, I can’t really prove or disprove it.

Then it hit me.

I lost sight of myself by worrying about my happiness, or even trying to delve deeper into mysteries that I don’t really care about. Life isn’t about being happy, life isn’t about achieving your goals, life’s life. We are born, we live, we die. Can’t we just get along and try to survive?

Accept fact or create your own reality. I chose to go with the latter.

Maybe it started as a playground fling, an introduction from a parent/friend, or just someone you bumped into on the street; love is random. Go ask people, there’s really no concise definition as to what love is. Lust on the other hand, is clearly definable. When asking someone about love and lust, there’s clearly a point at which people begin to distinguish one from the other. For now, all I’ve got to say is, I like my candy on valentine’s day, but you can keep your kisses.