marbles4lifw2-blog

[marbles4lifw2-blog]

7

All I can think of is hugging her. Holding her. Our bodies together. My hands pressed on her lower back, pressing her warm loving body closer to mine. 

Everything dissolves. The past, the future. It becomes now. 

I bury my head, nose and lips pressed to her warm neck. Her heart beat the only rhythm that matters. 

And then nothing. 

Perhaps I’ll die later, maybe not.

At this point, does it really fucking matter?

[marbles4lifw2-blog]

6. beauty

I strive to be a decent guy which is why I despise superficiality. More specifically I despise judgment based on the superficial. I find it thoughtless, somewhat ignorant. And, striving to be a decent guy, ignorant is the last thing I want to be.

Now this opposition against ignorance and thoughtlessness brings me to a personal moral dilemma: I like looking at beautiful things. More specifically, I feel guilt in that I like admiring beautiful women. This strikes me as superficial because beauty is an outward aspect of a person, just the surface. This conflicting internal thoughts put me in a pretty uncomfortable spot when around beautiful girls. I look at them, and instantly ponder and admire their beauty, even having that primal desire for them to be mine. Then upon realizing what I’ve been thinking, I become ashamed and blush and quickly think about the people around me who I want to portray myself as a decent person. I start panicking as they begin to see right through me as just another pervert.

Now I challenge this. Is the admiration of outward appearance of women inherently perverted? I don’t think so. 

My general knowledge is that we, as a human species, evolve to always optimize. Find the best weapon, best food, and best mate. Beauty, quite simply, is the best indication of a biologically competent mate. So, the more beautiful and healthy-looking a person, the better candidate they are biologically to be a mate. However, as a human species, we are no longer bound by the controlling forces of nature. In fact, we now have the intellectual capability to set the standards and overcome nature’s forces in many ways. This new power gives us the ability to transcend over primal instincts, no longer needing them to survive.

But, this primal admiration for the beautiful still remains. Now I could either work to re-wire my brain to change this function, or I can accept it. 

I choose to accept it. Yeah, I like staring at beautiful women. It gives me that primal sense of satisfaction that I simply cannot run away from. But it doesn’t have to stop there. I think it only becomes an indecency when I act on those impulses without thought and respect. Deep inside, I know I want a partner who is intelligent and kind and understanding and those things don’t necessarily manifest in beautiful people. So yeah, I’ll start to accept the satisfaction at looking at outward beauty because it is a harmless impulse. Perhaps in acknowledging it, I’ll find that I’ll transcend from it too, but I dunno. 

I mean another explanation for this outward appreciation could be that I was just conditioned that way growing up. Social media and advertisements and the entertainment industries highlight outward beauty. But I feel like we’re slowly coming out of that. 

To conclude, it’s not your first thought that defines you for it is what you were conditioned to think. It’s the second thought, the one where you have control, that does define your true character.  

[marbles4lifw2-blog]

5

I really wanna get over this social anxiety, especially the damn symptoms it comes with. Blushing being the biggest one (because of how damn silly and embarrassing it is). 

Lately I’ve been thinking that learning not to give a fuck would be the best way to do so (or it’s the way that most interests me). 

When out in public, I concern myself with how people may perceive me. Preferably, like most people, I want to be perceived as a confident, mysterious, unafraid, and secure guy, not the unconfident, many-times-predictable, terrified and insecure guy I tend to be. Blushing being, at least in my brain, the biggest indicator to the “audience” of which guy I am, so naturally I worry a lot about it. Plus it’s just so damn silly. 

Feeling confident and un-blushy around people I deem “not-that-important” or “not-that-great” or “not-that-attractive” -- you get the picture -- tends to be easier. I deeply resent this mode of thinking; it’s so shallow and superficial, everything I claim I try not to be. But here it is anyways, it manifests, poking out and running about. This mode of thinking is easy, less risk. And I definitely reap it’s rewards easily. But I don’t want to be this way. I want to treat everyone and anyone with the same unwaivering, consistent respect. It’s what my deepest intuition, my moral self, calls me to do.

In conjunction with my douchebag mentality to feel confident around people I oughta treat with more respect is the irrational fear and shrinking and cowering under people I do deem “yes-that-important” and “yes-that-great” and so on based on a superficial scale: their loooks. This mode of thinking I more publicly resent because its result, unlike the former mode of thinking, more explicitly fucks me up. I don’t want to think this way either, I want to treat every human being with the same respect and not, in this case, glorify them. This kind of thinking is probably ruined my last relationship and is most likely to ruin relationships with people I find great going forward. 

I just need to get it through and around and fucking atomically infused my brain --more specifically, my unconscious -- that people are people. No one is perfect. I am not perfect. I don’t have to prove anything to anyone just as no one has anything to prove to me. It really doesn’t matter. 

I really shouldn’t care about what strangers think because I don’t have to, and never can, impress everybody. Not everyone has to like me, and if they don’t then... fucking nothing happens. If anyone sees me as a puny weakling or as an unworthy being or as being inferior to them, again, nothing really happens. They just have their view which, frankly, I shouldn’t give a shit about. Why should I? Why should I subscribe to vision of me that undermines me and limits me? Because some asshole or misguided individual thinks so? Not very solid grounds to stand on. Not everyone has to like me. I don’t always have to leave an immaculate impression on every person I meet. If they go home with some misguided view of me, that doesn’t really stop anything I want to do. I mean I’m not the most outgoing and friendly individual out there, but I’m sure I’ve garnered people with pretty good views of me. People I truly care for. Especially the people who love me unconditionally. Meaning that there is almost nothing I can do for them to turn around and give up on me. That’s amazing. 

Besides, I think I’m putting too much gravity in people’s view of me generally. The reality is that most of the people in this Earth either don’t even know I exist or don’t care enough of me to keep an opinion. To a stranger who does give a thought, I’ll probably be forgotten later that day. I find solace in that. That it doesn’t fucking matter. 

Until I eventually fully subscribe to this more truthful mode of thinking, I’ll have to keep challenging my anxieties, taking them head on. Especially my damn blushing, oh that fucking demon. It’s so damn silly. 

[marbles4lifw2-blog]

4

I really don’t want to be anxious anymore. I’m tired of the fear, the irrational fears, I know they’re irrational but I fear them anyway. My body reacts and panics anyway. I’m sick of that shit. Fuck what ever made me this way, seriously.

Blushing, are you fucking kidding me? Why oh why does this shit have to happen to me? Why do I have to care so fucking much, who cares? God dammit, I’m tired. 

I’m trying to be a better person, really trying. But some fucking force always seems to block me. I’m done with anxiety,

Marbien, why do you fucking care? Do you think anyone actually cares enough about you to linger on your mistakes? If so, that’s gotta be a sad fucking life they have. Is there someone you gotta be? why? you don’t have to be shit. You don’t have to prove anything to fucking anyone. This life, meaningless as it sometimes feel, and you wanna waste it caring about what other fuckers think?

What the fuck is wrong with you? Stop caring. Please. You don’t owe anyone anything. Be fucking happy. Climb your own fucking mountains, not the ones other people create for you. Your own fucking mountains. Fuck what they think. seriously man. 

We have to change man, we have to fucking do it. We can’t live like this for the rest of our lives. We’ve got big ambitions, big plans, big possibilities. Deep inside, you know what you want. Now go fucking get it. Fuck the world, fuck them. Fuck this world man, just climb your mountain.. We gotta fucking do this

[marbles4lifw2-blog]

3

I’m pretty sure I have social anxiety. So now, I guess I’ll write what that means to me. How it molds me, for better or for worse.

I’ll start with mornings. It differs; after all, one rarely wakes up with anxiety. But on some days I do. My mind races through different scenarios -- scenes from the day/night before or possible things that’ll happen later in the day or sometimes both. Mornings like that usually happen because of a big event or person or situation that I consciously, sometimes unconsciously, think about that may pose a “danger” to me. Now of course, almost all the time, it’s not any physical danger, usually social. I have learned that anxiety due to social stuff is a characteristic of the lizard brain, the part of the brain our cave-dwelling ancestors of the past used to gauge dangerous situations and hopefully keep safe from it. Unfortunately, that function has now extended to the social “dangers” we face as, now a more advanced society that we are, they are the dangers we almost certainly face more. The truth of the matter is that social “danger” should not be a major concern as it most likely does not result in any physical harm.

[marbles4lifw2-blog]

2

I’m pretty lonely at the moment. When I contemplate about it, I find this nagging want for someone. Some sort of companion. Someone to confide in. So far everyone I’ve tried to confide in, at some point, human imperfection always shows it face. It reminds me of how inherently selfish we are. How truly enveloped we are in our own stories, our own universes. Now, I don’t think that’s a bad thing but it leaves me thinking how could I ask another human being to bear some of the weight of my world? God knows they’re carrying more than their fair share. So I’m thinking I should look to God for that.

It’s just that I’m growing tired of the conventional way of looking at God and His mercy and His love. It’s most of the times humans trying to appease God, trying to make him believe we are good, so that he’ll treat us well. It’s always focused on US and how God will treat US well if we worship him. It’s disappointing  because it invites the same conflict I have with trying to confide in other people: our inherent selfishness. Again, I don’t think that it’s necessarily a bad thing, in fact I think it’s necessary for each of us to live a healthy life. We were created with our own vessels as our sole window to view and perceive everything. But in regards to Jesus, I’d think that something as holy and extraordinary would transcend human selfishness. I think that’s why I love Catholicism, it has a stoic kind of worship. At it’s core, as I’ve come to understand, it accepts brokenness, it accepts unworthiness, failures, and doesn’t try to change that. It accepts the idea of life being an uphill battle; pain and sadness and betrayal, it’s all a part of it and can’t ever be taken away. It takes no shelter in the belief that it’s all about US and God will give US the perfect life we deserve. I think it’s more noble to worship Him and believe in Him despite the pain, and not asking any compensation. 

I find myself unworthy. I really am. I’m no hero. I grew up watching heroes on TV, noble, kind, and humble ones. I never once pictured myself as the bad guy, in fact I don’t think I could’ve even fathomed what they felt. I always thought I was destined to be a hero. But here I am, 19 years old, not even close. I don’t even quite know what makes a hero. Helping people who need it, that’s not heroic, that’s just common sense. If it’s not helping people, then what does make a hero? Is it sacrifice? Do heroes even exist?

As long as I’ll live, however, I’ll probably subconsciously keep trying be one anyways.

[marbles4lifw2-blog]

look up

I looked up on the cold, icy night, sadness gripping me by the bicep. “Alone. You’re alone. You’ve always been alone.” she whispered, looking down. The moon peeked behind its blanket of silhouetted clouds as she said this.

“You’ll always be alone.” Her grip briefly loosened and then tightened once more.

A planet formed in my chest with a gently increasing gravity.

“Yeah, I know.” I said.

[marbles4lifw2-blog]

first college semester

Now that I’ve finished my first college semester, I have about a one month winter break. I can look back at my college experience as a pretty successful one. I didn’t take too many classes and wasn’t thrown into another intimidating social jungle. College so far has been, for lack of better words, chill. I started working out and exercising, paying more attention and respect to physical health. I exposed myself to philosophies that tackle the horrifying question of the meaning of life, and if it even exists. I grew in confidence, socially, being able to talk to a girl. I’ve grown just a little bit more independent, although not much. This semester has, if anything, helped me mold a more concrete vision of who I am and who I want to be for the future.

This break, I want to continue with the progress of growing interpersonal understanding. I also want to get back to my meditation habits and be able to calibrate my mind to be more present, focused, and clear. I want to continue to challenge myself to be a better human being: be more loving, more understanding, informed, courageous, and wise.  

[marbles4lifw2-blog]

1

I’m just writing to write.

I pride myself in my ability to write. I see it as a “talent” although I don’t know anymore. Anyone can write truth. It’s all around us. There’s no way that I’m “one of the rare ones” who see them. 

Just like everyone, the truth is confusing for me. Sometimes it’s scary as hell, and I subconsciously -- or consciously, it’s hard to tell in retrospect -- run from it. Other times, it feels like salvation. 

One truth I’d like to share: my loneliness. A lot of people struggle with loneliness, but somehow that doesn’t make it any easier. It feels like, deep inside, I know whenever I let someone close and get to know them, it gets boring. It gets disappointing. I don’t know if I’m being a Romantic douchebag, but it really doesn’t feel like anyone “gets it.” Hell I don’t even get it. 

Yeah, I think too much. I want to be more honest with myself. Accept my superficial, sad wants. I can just go on ignoring them, but what good does that do? I figure the first step to killing your demons is accepting they’re there. 

I want a companion. Someone to confide in, in a real human way. I don’t need to fed hope, I want reality. I want to be with someone who doesn’t annoy me by just sitting there, and who doesn’t get annoyed by me. Someone whose presence is enough. Whose thoughts I don’t hear out loud. Someone kind of mysterious, but more real than anyone I’ve ever known. 

I don’t think I’ve noticed as mush as I should have, but my heart’s different. A little colder, it puts up with less bullshit. A hard heart, although I do still have my weaknesses. But what happens when those weaknesses fade off? What would I be left with?

[marbles4lifw2-blog]

the dark

Pain is, and will always be, all around us. Brokenness is fundamental. It’s what, as humans, we strive to always move away from, to be better than. 

Darkness is the constant current we all swim against. At times it’s weak, almost non-existent, and we effortlessly wade through the waters, the masters of our destinies. Other times, it’s overwhelming, we struggle to even breath as  powerful waves push us back, every ounce of strength we still have used just to keep our head above the water. But most times, it’s an average, steady current where, as easy as it would be to just stop and let the current gently carry us back, we move forward just as steadily because we can

No matter which current we battle against, one thing remains absolute: Darkness is ever present. 

The veil of darkness seems to envelop our whole humanity; most, if not all, people strive for happiness, finding pain as the default.

[marbles4lifw2-blog]

1. intro

I can be a bit sentimental; it’s a part of me I like to humor once in a while. Without sounding like a middle-aged woman going through some typical mid-life crisis, I like to think that I’m growing. Well... maybe not growing, more like: changing. Changing for the better? I don’t know. But I’ll tell you what:

I don’t care. As long as I’m not stagnant.

About three years ago, I started to pursue a wonderful person. She was, and very much is still, beautiful, captivating, gentle. At the time, I was convinced she was exactly the girl my younger self (now technically my way younger self) would fantasize about being with. She was the first person I fell in love with. (I would say “foolishly in love with”, but I feel like foolishness is somewhat inherent in falling in love.) I thought about her, or anything closely relating to her, every day. I even based my own self-growth on “being the man she deserved” (I was an idiot. A fool, ha). I admit, I did gro-.. I mean change a lot ever since I met her.

I’m gonna skip to the problem, rather problems: I was a fool for her, but she wasn’t in love with me.

I thought I could handle it. Be patient. Grow, haha. But no, I couldn’t accept the reality that this girl, who I’d envision several times as my young wife, was probably not going to reciprocate the immense feelings I felt. I chalked it up to hope and patience and all that stuff.

About three months ago was my first heart break. Corny, but very real. It hurt. Damn, it hurt. But it sent me towards the trajectory pointing to who I am right now. Y’know the guy typing this.

No, I don’t think “I’ve grown” or that “I know now.” Looking back will always prove how much I don’t know. How much I’ll never know. 

But that’s okay.

If life had a definite answer, then it wouldn’t be as valuable as it is now: without a definite answer. It’s reasonable to believe life may not even have an answer at all. Life is this organic, dynamic, breathing, living thing; I don’t think we can, nor is it even right, to try to cage it. Also, just because I don’t understand life, it doesn’t mean my thoughts, beliefs, and words don’t mean a thing. Actually, I think they’re worth everything.