angeloskies

[angeloskies]

Is it too late for me? Was it like 5, 10 years ago that was my last chance? Am I on borrowed time? What if I already know the answer but just haven't been strong enough to let go?

[angeloskies]

The thoughts I think are getting worse

I don’t know if it’s normal

To think of this so often

Why am I still alive

I don’t deserve this life this icy lonely existence

I’m angry inside

I hate myself

The world is more beautiful without me

I need to leave

Forever

[angeloskies]

Technically 9/01/23

I don't want to bother anyone tonight. I thought about so many people who love me who I could contact, and let them know where my mind is at.

I understand they are probably going through their own issues. Maybe they are struggling more than I am right now. I don't want to put that stress on them.

I've been reading a lot about suicide, and ways to do this. The stupid hotline pops up a lot, so I have to be a little more unclear about suicide. What looks promising is going to a shooting range.

It seems to be unusual for people to take their lives there. I would think that it would suck for them to have to experience a suicide, and I'm so sorry to have to do that to you, but I think I would prefer someone who doesn't know me to have to see that. I mean, they're around guns all the time. They know the risks. I mean, it's fucked up, and I'm sorry, but I have to die.

I have so much I want to tell people. But every time I pick up the phone, or I guess, start on my keyboard, I hesitate. I don't want to worry them.

I am thinking about all of the people I want to say goodbye to. My family, friends, people I love. And I kind of don't want to. I know that as soon as I start leaving those voicemails, people will get worried. I think it's best to not do that to them. I don't want anyone to feel guilty that maybe they could have done more to prevent it. I've been thinking about this for a very long time. I think now at my age, I feel a little more secure in this decision.

I'm in pain, constantly. Emotional pain, mental pain. Physical pain isn't as bad, but living with UC, it's like it's always waiting there. The flare up every 5 months or so. And there's the pains I am feeling in my body from overuse. I see people around me, younger, in better health, in better positions than I am in. And my body feels like this now.

I just feel like I am too late for so much. I wasted a lot of time on worrying about unimportant things. I am still at a point where I have no idea what I want from this life. So much confusion, but I do know, I want this suffering to end. I also feel like no one would really take me seriously. I did open up to someone recently. And recently, I feel foolish for doing so. I think this was a really big trigger for me. I opened up to someone I should not have opened up to, and when I work with her, I am reminded of my mistakes.

I compare myself to other people and see that I will never be that way. I am suffering on a daily basis. I don't have much going for me. I have pushed away everyone who has loved me. And the people who do love me are very far. There are people closeby, but I don't think they need to hear this kind of bullshit.

A part of me feels childish for talking about this. If I'm serious, why not do it now? Well, I'm house-sitting at the moment. Tomorrow I plan on seeing a friend Brandon, and it's been really great, us hanging out and doing a hike a week. It's what I look forward to. I want to have that at least one last time before I go.

I just don't look forward to my life anymore. I thought I had a lot going for me. I don't anymore. I am so lost. It doesn't matter how many books I read, classes I take, bills I pay. This chronic emptiness blinds me from my future, and I think I'm ready to go. I don't want to waste anymore resources. I think I'm accepting that this is as far as my life will go, and that is okay. I appreciate everything everyone has done for me.

In my notes on my phone, I have a lot of personal things. I wrote a lot of things that I never sent. I will leave a note with passwords to my laptop and to my phone, as well as to some other online things. I will do my best to cancel as many reoccurring charges so that banks will not have to go through issues trying to get money from me after I'm dead. I don't want to fuck anyone over.

I'm really sorry. I thought I was really going to have things figured out. I'm just as lost as I was when I first sent out my application to Cal State Long Beach for the Teaching Credential Program back in 2016. I was grasping at straws. Here I am, doing the same thing again with Nursing. It's all the same. I am and will always look for someone or something to complete me. I am incomplete and will always want to fill this void. I tried to not do anything else that would be considered "self-medicating." I haven't had anything to drink or smoke in months. I haven't done any other substances since my birthday last year, and June 11th 2022 is still the anniversary of when I didn't do that one thing I used to do.

I eat healthy. I love chocolate though. I mean, not milk chocolate. I have a milk protein sensitivity, meaning it isn't an allergy, but consume too much and I'll get cramps, gas, bloating, pain. Same with shrimp. With my Ulcerative Colitis (UC), I have to avoid certain foods like overly processed things. I limit meat consumption. I have even cut down on eating too much whole wheat and have been eating more sourdough bread.

I workout almost every day, but I have been trying to have more rest days. I feel better after working out.

I'm on medication now. Lamictal 100 mg a day. I think it does help to a certain extent. I definitely don't feel the lows as hard as I used to. I feel less anxiety. I do feel a lot of sadness, but it's normal for me.

I go to therapy, which has been helpful. I finally found a therapist I really like. She does a great job holding me accountable for my actions. She is firm and direct with how I have been and I really appreciate and needed that from her. She has always made herself available, and has been instrumental on my journey.

I was working on a new hobby which I really loved, drum lessons. I ended up learning from three different people at one point. They got really expensive so I stopped them all as I got closer to my move-out date. I need to come up with first month's rent, plus security deposit and maybe even last month's rent. Suffice it to say drum lessons aren't exactly the top priority.

I reached out to friends and Brandon has been really great at being there for me. Just to hang out and talk. I do feel like it probably is too much for him though. I think maybe it's time I stop relying on him so much.

Everything I thought I was doing to help me has been helping me.

It isn't enough.

I don't think I am fit for this world. The world isn't fair, and I don't expect it to be, nor am I upset at this fact. I am acknowledging this idea and respect it. It is not fair and it shouldn't be. The weak-willed people like me must die and make room for the strong. I am expendable, and replaceable. I will be forgotten within a few days, if not weeks, and my name and existence will have blown away before time even blinked.

My name will not be repeated, I have nothing to show for my time and suffering here. I have nothing to offer the world. There is nothing to hold me back anymore. I don't have a reason to live. As simple as that.

What is it that you hold on to? The thing that keeps you going? Is it a light? A hope? A future?

I love Avatar: The Last Airbender! One of my favorite quotes by Iroh recently popped up on my facebook feed.

"Hope is something you give yourself...That is the meaning of inner strength."

I don't think I have that anymore. I think I did at one point. Now, I don't know where I put it. Maybe I left it where my self-love used to be. I don't have many reasons to love myself. I actually have more reasons to die than to live.

I love my family. I love my Mama. She is one I am very sad to leave. She has been there for me through everything. She really wanted me to move back with her. I would have loved to. But I know that it wouldn't have changed anything. It would have just given me another opportunity to hurt her more. If we are separate, at least she won't have to find me or feel like she could have done more. If I do this and no one knows about it until it's already done, then everyone will know that it was all on me. I decided to do this one thing for myself.

I have a few letters I meant to write to people. I'm just kinda tired. Maybe in another life, another universe. Or maybe never. If Hell awaits me, that will be fucking terrible. I just know that if someone told me that my loved one who committed suicide is burning in hell, and people of that faith agreed with that, it would make me lose faith in that Faith. I would also beat the shit out of someone if they callously said that about my loved one.

We aren't evil. I might even argue I'm not sick, not because of my desire to die. I am sick because I have Borderline Personality Disorder. But this request to die. I think it's because of my life. My inability to make decisions. The way I treat the people I love. My tendency to ruin the best things in my life. I have wasted so much potential, and I didn't deserve any of the help I received.

I am sorry I let you all down. But I promise you. If I truly wanted to live, I would. I just don't, and no one can convince me to continue living. It isn't anyone's responsibility other than my own.

Everything will be ok =) I love you!

Angel

[angeloskies]

If you like

I Can be honest here

I’m living, but barely

can you tell?

Is it my smile that gives it away?

You can see right through my empty shell

[angeloskies]

Terrify 7/16/23

I’m terrified of closeness, yet I crave it.

I’m dangerous to the people who love me the most.

The most vulnerable, I hurt and betray.

The closer you are, the more I push you away.

I’m terrified of intimacy, but it’s all I want.

Fall in love with the idea of me long enough so I may create a few memories of you to obsess about.

Let my true darkness scare you into apathy.

Be turned off by my shameless vulnerability.

Fool me into thinking I was more than just a dream.

Another ghost, haunting my veins.

One night I’ll find the strength to rip my skin open and finally let you out.

[angeloskies]

Night Owl 10/30/18

inviting you

In my thoughts 

 vulnerable

exposed

don't be alarmed 

this is for me,

not for you

complication

glazes my eyes 

understanding and possibility arise

when the timing is right

you and I 

can stuggle together

see 

the love in our eyes 

Gaze in your stars, 

I feel your energy

align with mine, 

And I feel fine

Just waiting 

While You focus on yours 

And I focus on mine

Where we can be

Present

But I’m Afraid of your gaze

Curiosity grants peace,  

borrow magic and skies, 

My lungs collapse on a tepid chance

Distant

next to me all night

 I hope

you feel the fire,

Rushing sea

conducting our shared electricity

Your bioluminescent touch

Quixotic laughter and luminosity

let me taste your sight

a possibility you’d be mine. 

eagerly await

Or rush into foolishness

alone

A lively shadow

A real you 

Malicious smiles,

perilous warmth,

Uncertain comfort

gentle embraces 

sing and wave

Silently speak my name

Move your hips,

Purse your lips

while I trace your silhouette

night dreaming

you choose me, 

I caught you

[angeloskies]

Obsessive Patience

This major sweet obsession

I lose myself in her

her obscure teases,

clouding our shared secrets 

her laughs my inadvertent taunts 

 fissures stalagmite faults

I am lost in her gaze

Contact unsure, her voice and stares obscure

No strength to refrain 

I push you more away each day

Constant questioning, 

overthinking nonexistent obstacles 

her voices echoes unrelenting harmonies

tantalizing cherished memories 

Can this be more than just an evening 

Wishing you and I can sing again

but close enough to hear your heartbeat searching for an important inner strength 

to help me find my patience to wait 

obsessing healthily, 

thriving on thoughts of a possible you and me 

the more I think 

the more depressed, the more complete I feel 

A moment full of hope, 

yearning for dreary wisdom 

convincing me the days in between 

are minuscule, a day dream

Accepting the possibility 

that you and I only shared a little less than a long goodbye

I left responsibility 

hoping you shift to yes to you and me

I hope that in between 

your mistakes lead you back to me

Just because I understand the need for time and space, 

doesn't mean I can simply accept the current state

where I’d rather have time to pass and grow together

Wishing for sooner, hoping for now

the passive torture self inflicted in only a test of my resolve 

to obsess of patience for a beautiful ending, 

or a strange beginning 

nature whispers your name 

as the wind reachers me in bed

the empty space keeping my safe 

no need for open vulnerability 

challenging both of our instabilities

my flickering night light in the distance 

and my lingering hope to see you under my moonlight

one day you’ll make your way back to me 

or help me accept we should simply look forward to different days and a short goodnight  

[angeloskies]

Read More Here: 5 Things That are Keeping You From Moving Forward - Psych2Go

Follow @psych2go for more

[angeloskies]

I ran to a place I’ve never been, Because I pointed on a map, decided I’m running to this blue and green Sweat dripping in this humidity And I didn’t even bring shorts I ran in tight jeans, DC’s, and a muscle t My owl necklace bounced against my chest with ever step I’m surprised I even had this much energy, Not much of a runner but with some will and adrenaline, Hell I’ll run there and back again It’s hot and didn’t even plan to run this far I’m sick and still a congested, but I felt better after and I made it there and took my time I enjoyed the sight I almost didn’t have Because my father is driving an 18 wheeler across the East, And I can’t make him fall behind, especially not for a trail I’ve never seen

[angeloskies]

trees whisper to me and stuff

Slightly alarming bees buzzing I don’t think I’m allergic,

biological hope and beauty

are showing me the things I’ve forgotten in my sleep

Vaguely reminisce memories I wish to forget

did we travel here for real or my dreams

Help me remember the oatmeal cookies

I asked someone take away my parasitism but I was denied. These particles teasing my brain,

The way your hair smells waking up.

Leaves from the night before, entangled in your hair

Fell asleep on each other before we woke up to see the moon

Maybe it’s the things you say in your sleep

Making me wonder if you’re dreaming of someone other than me

It might be the way I elbow you as I sleep,

But it’s most likely the feeling of security

When the distance simply means time to wait

Until we’re ravishing in the dawn of hopeful uncertainty

It’s the perception of evidence, of an eternal essence

That we just so happened

To come across

A drunken night in January

A name means nothing

if you can’t enjoy a blacked out kiss in the arms of a psychopath like me

Why the most unrealistic things seem like small feats

As I reach half days in distance driven

And half days of you waiting

/p>

You make me want to believe in a world where love is shared

Unlike the innocuous conflicts

loud snores and blanket wars

you hog the covers, I hog the bed

Enjoying the stars glowing on my ceiling room

from the last night we slept together

equivalent to the nights I knew I’d never see you again,

The more beauty we destroy, the more beauty we can catch in a torn and faded photograph.

The stunning catastrophe

Echoing our flaws

Emphasizing nature’s colors

And omitting our inevitable departure

[angeloskies]

Kiss my dream

my bottom lip

phlebotomize it

Clean it up

Tie me down

Fuck me up

Love me insensate

What the fuck

[angeloskies]

The cracks start to form, and my air escapes through holes in my helmet. Floating in space, each second lengthens. I begin to imagine my body freezing. The oxygen is depleting soon, maybe I’ll explode with the change of air pressure, and I'll no longer inhabit this body. Sudden depressurization herds me in and out of fields of consciousness for my last seconds alive.

I wait to suffocate and wait to gasp to inhale nothing but space. So cold. But I surprisingly don't mind being here for a while, without being in a place where my body could feel the warmth of another. Either way,  I would rather live here, forever, for eternity looking at the stars as clearly as I do now.

Soon, my body will swell two times their size, and all the horrible things will happen to my body, but I won’t be awake to feel them. I exhale a last breath, wondering if it will not prolong my misery, avoiding the rupturing of my lungs. My ensuing torment will allow a brief moment of clarity throughout my waning useful consciousness that melts away, and my brain asphyxiates, hoping that my body is first eviscerated by a meteor, or I get sucked into a black hole, or zapped into another dimension, in any place with hopefully more understanding of the universe than I do right now. I’m fucking clueless.

Going home, or just visiting another destination. Wither away my lifeless body that won't surrender itself to decomposition. My loss of vision does not allow me to witness my body convulse, my impaired judgement provides me an excuse to scream silently without a medium for sound to travel through, and as I float alone, blue and bloated in the expanse of space, my heart beats for the last time. The maggots will not feast on my body and recycle it into my earth, and this fleshy object I once referred to as me will float into oblivion, and within centuries, if not caught in the gravitational pull of some foreign object, will drift far into the realms of what humanity can never know, and may see the end of the beginning. May I see the shape of this universe that was once thought to be infinite? No, I will just float away. Float away.

[angeloskies]

She sat perched on a partially existent bridge, the only solid concrete object holding her up in the middle of a rushing river. She could not see land three hundred sixty three degrees around her. It was only her. From time to time, pieces of old houses would drift, reminding her of her past life, where immortal humans once lived above the sea. Immortal humanity was met with a flood a few decades ago, which was the only thing that could kill the immortal beings and to her astonishment, she continued to live and did not age. Unbeknownst to her, she was a true immortal. She sat there, waiting for starvation to take her away to her never-ending slumber. She would rather starve than drown. Her fear of drowning was so perpetual after seeing her own family submerged by the flood. After 350 years sitting upon the bridge, she realizes her immortality. She would never die. She would only sit there for centuries, and watch as a river flows past her on every side. She sat perched upon the bridge, the only object she could sit upon while the water seemingly covered the earth. Never a boat, never a cry, never a soul. She thought that maybe fate would allow her the opportunity to die if she lost the will to live. This however was met with an impasse. She could never lose the will to live. It was not in her bones. Moons, suns, and stars would fall witness to the fair maiden living for a reason unknown to her. One night as the moon shone upon her body, she found the will to sleep only to be quickly shown that even in her dreams she is trapped between a never ending body of water. In her dreams she finally decided to drown herself after seeing the water carry something that resembled her beloved box of jewelry her mother had given her on her 17th birthday. To her astonishment, she was only to be awoken at the unpleasant view of water rushing past, nothing more. Angry at the heavens and her innate fear of losing her life to the water, she soon submerged herself in the flood. She did not fight to stay above the water. Instead, she allowed the water to fill her mouth and nostrils. As the water filled her lungs, she thought a silent prayer asking for forgiveness for any higher being watching upon her that she had not given up. To her surprise, she did not feel the dreaded feeling of drowning. She instead found that she could breathe underwater. This whole time, she did not realize, a community of people lived right beneath her. Floating to the bottom, she asked someone why they had never gone up to tell her that it was possible for her to breathe underwater. He replied that it was beautiful to watch her live above the waves the way their ancestors used to. The last of her kind, living above water, and now she was just like the rest of them. Hearing this, she quickly swam up and sat upon the bridge, perched atop the only solid object in the middle of rushing rivers. She would rather live alone for eternittha be with people that would see her only as an object of beauty rather than a life waiting to live. To her surprise, she finally felt hungry, and this feeling was met with sleepiness. Soon, she allowed her body to float atop the water, and he drifted along the river, and she met her sleep. At last she could dream and in this dream, she lived among the clouds. She fed upon the moisture and she loved to be alive, witnessing the rising and falling of water droplets upon another civilization soon to be met with idealizations of neo human potential. In her dreams, she became a goddess and she answered prayers of millions that prayed for rain. Goddess of the clouds. Prisoner by rushing rivers in one life. Goddess of rain in another. It wasn’t a dream. It was life.

[angeloskies]

In his never ending sorrows, he drank himself to sleep. His liver failing, his skin scarred from razor blades, and his veins pumping buckets of life onto the bathroom floor, with one last gasp he cut too deep this time. The world dims, the lights slowly flicker on and off, and he smiles, thinking of Socrates while whispering " there was a cure..." Then, Something from another world carries him away.

What used to be him, his mind, intangible body, and soul wakes up in another world. The transition room, as They like to call it, is the place he saw last before he closed his eyes indefinitely in his previous lively endeavor. He wakes in his old bathtub, while farther outside his bathroom door, a forest sings windy tremors and albescent leaves from the sun shining through. And the forest was full of his favorite purple Jacaranda trees. He breathes in the purple flowers like a boy in love inhales the scent of his love's freshly dyed, shampooed hair. He slowly becomes a tree in the forest. The roots are his veins now, his hair are the leaves, and his bark is his scarred skin. Finally he feels beautiful, and no razor blades can pierce the jacaranda tree's bark without being enveloped in delicious tree sap.

This is his own heaven, but there is an end, as all things in heaven die and are reborn again into the earth. Sometimes people, animals, the energy of life need rest... They need to remember that they are beautiful, that each of them have the potential to bloom flowers in their leaves. Sometimes, they need a bit of reminding to take with them back to the earth and hopefully share with the other former jacaranda trees.

As for me, I have never been a tree.I have been tigers that were hunted down by blood thirsty poachers, I have been fuzzy black caterpillars captured by children and put in a jar, only to suffocate and never become a chrysalis . I was a triceratops that saw the last of its kind die out as the frightful meteor hit my earth.

Once, I was an ant, and my antennas were incidentally caught in anothers, who just so happened to be the ant I would carry 50 leaves for to show my love. She was unfertile, for the queen was the one that reproduced, but I did

I was once a lobster, and I held claws with my lobster-mate for years, until we were separated by the lonely fisherman who cooked us together. I saw her, as her skin turned lighter as she was boiled alive along with me, and her eyes slowly popped. She was still as beautiful as when I first rescued her from the fisherman's trap. And now, unable to save her, I close my eyes and pinch her claws as my body boils, and I am recycled into the earth.

[angeloskies]

She was the one. I lost her. I was given a gift sent by God, drifted to me across the universe on clouds and I caused a storm that blew her to the end of existence. It’s not everyday where you have an epiphany so great that everything that ever made sense, everything that you were so sure of became nothing more than a salty dream.

 It was that night, I saw here from my soft white couch. The siren that sung a song so lovely I not only sank my ship but I brought everything and everyone I ever loved to hear her song and I killed them too. She was the written epic authors only dreamed of writing, she was the dream you could only remember after years of contemplating what the dream was about. She was that nagging idea, that if you could have only listened to, would’ve brought you your wildest dreams.

 She laughed, giggled, hiding the purple braces she had in her mouth, he eyes as tiny as the little dipper, she shined like a bright light in the tunnel you see before you pass. She was everything and at that moment, she was mine. On that bed, March 21st, 2010, I made her mine and I became hers. 2 years would pass and it would only be a shadow of a memory of what once was. Everything I could ever have needed. Everything I could have ever wanted. Anything anyone could ever dream of. DREAM. She was THE dream. The life that replayed in your mind, signifying your accomplishments, dreams, hopes desires, everything before you decided to pull the trigger, before you decided to jump from the balcony, before you decided to jump in front of the subway train, before you swallowed the pills. The Last Thought. She was the Last Thought.

  The Last Thought….

  Loving embers, killing the night with whimpers of an unsung sorrow, embracing the cool wind collecting at its heart. The life glowing as it breathes and breathes. A tangent universe drifting from a sound slumber and grotesque fate of insipid sentiments. Drifting, seeping tears from her papercut eyes, she wonders, “Did you ever love me? Did I even exist to you? I gave you everything. What did I do wrong, what did I not do write? Do you even know? How could you do this to me? What more do you want me to be? Like them? What do they have that I don’t?”

 The words haunt me at night. I only sleep during the day. As my eyes become heavy, the ghosts from the past remind me of mistakes, regrets, and transgressions. I did not follow the fates like it was written. I will soon pay for this with my life. I am paying for this now. Soon there will be nothing left but a hollow shell. Soon. I will be nothing. I will be everything that I always told myself I would not be. I will be him.

 What is worse? Becoming the person you always told yourself you would never become? Or denying that you aren’t that person already although deep down inside you’ve always known? Denial Only saves sheep, for the shepherd knows his flock is being ravaged by the beasts and knows to allow the suffering for as long as stronger survive.

 She was something out of a fantasy, like something incandescently drawn. The muse that only a blind woman could hear.

[angeloskies]

Bioluminescence

I used to live in a motel. 8 years. Stories used to keep me alive. That and music. And the prospect of having someone I can love, who can travel with me to Paris and eat a croissant with me under the stars.

My family. They’re all black sheep. People think I’m the “white sheep,” but I’m not. I really am not.

A summer when things I worry about now, was not present in my mind. I was anxious and worried because I wasn’t sure about where I was going to live the next month. What school I was going to. What food I was going to eat. What clothes I was going to wear. Who I was going to hang out with. These seems monumental to a kid not used to really having any sense of permanence. This is why I really felt a bond with my cousins back then. They were my escape and our adventures would stay with me in those dark nights at the motel on Rosemead Blvd., the motel on Telegraph Rd., and sometimes the motel on Rosecrans Blvd.

My aunt Gloria, my cousin Chubba (Tony) and I left to Oceanside that summer. A military base named “Camp Pendleton” was our destination, and in my mind I imagined a fort with guards carrying bazookas and machine guns. I was kind of right. We drove on a beautiful stretch of highway that unbeknownst to me would become familiar about 6 years later when my long distance relationship would require a weekend drive to San Diego on that same 5 freeway. It’s still like I remember it. The halfway point where the two giant “boobs” with the red flashing nipples. I never found out what they were because I prefer a mystery.

During the drive, the day was hot, and we listened to “The Cure” and other 80’s bands that we all agreed on listening. Too much of the Beatles played in that car. As we drove, I had a sudden urge to hawk this loogie out of the car as we speed close to 80mph. I lunged forward and the spit flew a few inches before splattering on the rear door window. My cousin and I laughed while the look of disapproval from my aunt lessened my life just enough to glance at my cousin and continue laughing again. “You know you’re going to clean that up right?” said my aunt. “Yes Tia, of course!” I said with a menacing voice that echoed my immaturity and insincerity that lacked justification. We drove.

Getting there is a blur. Immediately we separated, the younger cousins apart from the aunts. We met with our cousin Ricardo, and Mike and Anthony who were both visiting from Arizona. The plans were formulated and getting high became a formality. Sneaking over to a well-known deserted area, we smoked and our clear eyes became crimson, and our appetites screamed for nourishment although I had not eaten too long ago. My cousin wasn’t new at hiding the truth though. We were prepared with “clear-eyes,” body spray, and tic-tacs. We were set.

After that first day, came the day I would retell to many people, hoping to share a bit of lovely words to brighten up a dim corner of the world in Montebello.

 My cousins and I used to hot box the garage. Hotboxing is a technical term used to describe when you or you and others smoke in an area small enough to encase the smoke, where it becomes either hard to breathe or hard to see. Ususally this is characterized extreme laughing because you’re so high you cant believe how much smoke you were able to release in the air to make it that fucking thick. Before we went to the beach, we hot boxed the shit out of Ricardo’s garage.

This was on a military base also, so I was pretty surprised that they were able to get away with so much. My cousin’s stepfather, Patrick, was a Filipino dude that was in Afghanistan fighting the unjust war. What I really loved about that military base though, was that it was so close to the beach. Risk your life so your nephews can get high on a beach.  

I remember the blue-green waves crash against the beach that night. I thought it was because I was still stoned, that maybe I was hallucinating just a little bit. I wasn’t. The waves…

The anti-night. 5 cousins, two aunts, one fat joint. We boogie boarded the waves. I felt the sand-paper like surface of the board and of the beach. My skin, still young and elastic, welcomed the UVB rays from the sun and increased production of the melanin in my epidermis. I body boarded, let the waves crash into me as I let go of all volitions and thoughts while the day turned to night under my eyelids. It was time to leave.

Calling from the childlike voice that I used to recognize, my cousin Ricardo called everyone to eat the barbecued hot dogs. I ate mine plain, yet it was still succulent enough for me to grab a second and third. After finishing eating, a quick huddle from us resulted in a deicison to head out to some rocks that stretched out from the beach to the sea. People seemed to climb them without problem and we were young and capable so we were allowed to go. In our minds, we were thinking “fuck yeah, let’s go get high!” But we knew to keep our smiles down; we couldn’t let them catch onto us.

We traversed the rocks while thoughts in my mind about broken teeth and snagged limbs and drowned pervaded my mind as I stared into the clouds that sheltered me from the sun. It was a magical day. My lungs were clear, my mind was empty or adult worries, and my expectations were high with a chance that I might actually live up to them.

We stopped about three-quarters of the way there. We looked around us and waited for the couple returning from the end to be out of the smelling distance. After they left, we all looked at one another impatiently, and looked for the elder Ricardo to guide us. The joint.

It might have been big, it might have been small, but to me, it was the perfect size. I wasn’t used to smoking and the way weed looked still begged my curiousity about where it came from, who made, how you got it, and how it tasted. Could you eat a salad and get high? Well the active substance in marijuana is THC, or Tetrahydrocannabinol, and in order to be released must be heated in order to release the substances that give you that lovely head change.

It was on that rock that I saw my life through the eyes of a child playing his or her Gameboy, controlling a character that turned out to be me. With the joint being passed around, the smoke entering my lungs gave me the immediate satisfaction on knowing I can still think when I’m high. Hitting it and holding it in. Coughing vigorously, my mouth began to dry and that’s when it started. I began to laugh, as was customary those days when I first began smoking. I laughed and my cousins laughed at me because I was laughing and they laughed harder. That’s when it became clear to me.

           “I feel like I’m in a movie. I can seriously see us sitting down right here, like in 3rd person. The two little black slits are on the top and bottom of the screen like in a widescreen movie.”

“Wha? Hahahaha… This fool over here,” was all my cousin Ricardo could think of to say as I went on my little rant about the metaphysical world.

           “I feel like I’m in a Gameboy and some little kid up there is controlling me. He’s telling me where to move, where to go. I turn left because he’s pushing the button. See, (I point south) that’s where the start and select button are and there (I point west and east) is the A button, the B button, and the D pad. The screen is directly on top of me and the sun is the red light that tells the kid how much battery life he has.”

           Everyone was just laughing, probably at how idiotic I sounded, but I didn’t care. I really felt like I had figured everything out. God was a child, playing a video game, controlling little stoners on some rocks on a beach.

           We spent a few hours there, just being faded. We saw boats go by; we saw some dolphins, the first I ever witnessed in person. Loving the scenery, I was sad when the sun starting to set and we had to get back before it got dangerous being on the rock. As we were all getting our fadedness out so that we could keep our composure around my aunts, I looked up wondering if the kid was looking down on me.

           Ricardo was a little behind again while me and my three other cousins were up ahead. As we walked, we saw a huge wave come and crash on the rocks. The wave was so high that it reached my cousin Ricardo and soaked him. We watched in horror as the paranoia from the weed told us our cousin was about to be washed out to sea. Just faded thinking. He was fine and laughing at how that wave so cleanly hit him while we were all warm and dry.

           As we got to the beach, we all tried to keep our composure. It worked because our red eyes could be taken as being because of swimming. We being so quiet could be because we were tried from being in the sun all day. We didn’t smell because the water and sand was able to cover that up. So we all chilled, ate some s’mores and enjoyed the rest of our time there, laying down on our large blanket, covering ourselves with individual towels, neither cold nor hot. Just perfect.

Still feeling the high from earlier, I looked up at the night sky as it began to stretch across the once brightly lit day and began to show me the universe I once longed to visit as a child.

There was a light shining from under the waves. I knew it was because there was no other explanation I could think of for why the dark water would have light shining from the waves as they crashed along the beach. But wait… I hear my cousin Ricardo yell, “Hey Tia, something’s up with the water. Is it supposed to glow like that?” The waves were glowing? Was I too high? Did I really hear this? But as it got darker, you were able to see the glow from a distance.

We all followed Ricardo to the beach and saw for ourselves and our admonitions were put to sleep like a child that read a Dr. Seus book. It was…

I had never seen it before. Anything like this. Was this real? Was I dreaming this beautiful day? I didn’t pinch myself. I just took it in and walked closer. I could hear my aunt, “I think it’s the toxic waste they toss in the water near the military base…” Either way, I drew closer to the water and took steps until I felt the moisture under my feet. My steps were glowing.. I picked up the sand beneath me and threw it my cousins and tiny sparks emitted from the crash. My aunt was seeing it too. We were all seeing it.

The waves would crash and we could see this bright neon blue-green. I didn’t look it up until my long distance relationship with a girl revitalized my need to tell this story 6 years later.I was reluctant to because I thought I was playing in toxic waste and didn’t want to think of the implications it would have on my long term health. She didn’t believe me at first until she looked it up and told me what it actually was.

Tiny little microorganisms that have bioluminescent properties, light producing effects like fireflies, were in large bloom on that beach and when the waves crashed, the species Noctiluca scintillans, flickered on those blue-green lights in water. I was watching little microorganisms body surf as their bodies showed me something natural that I would remember years after witnessing it. I fell in love with the light that served those in the night. The Blue-Green waves spoke to me in crashes and erosions, and told me that I was going to be okay, that in darkness, there is always some light, no matter how small, there is always a tiny light to share some beauty with you.

[angeloskies]

“I just threw up right now in the restroom, I’ve been sick all day.” She stands in front of me on the other side of the table as she helps me buss the rest of the dishes.

 Are you preggers? I ask, somewhat jokingly, but it seems to be the case since she doesn’t necessarily look sick.

 I finish with “hey oh!” And walk towards the kitchen carrying some dishes. She follows me and for 30 seconds, we are coworkers doing our job, and at the end of those 30 seconds, we continue our conversation as if we never left the table. She looks at me and I ask her again, “so… are you preggers?”

 She doesn’t answer but she doesn’t stay quiet. She looks at me and then she says “shhh don’t tell anyone.”

 I didn’t really realize it at the time, but it was something quite profound to say something like that to someone you don’t normally talk to that often. Yet she confided in me with a secret that I still hold to this day.

 As the night wears on, tables come and go, mostly happy, some pretentious assholes that think they’re food critics or somehow more important than a college graduate waiter, we talk again.

 So is it from the same boyfriend you’ve had a kid with already?

 Yes, I’m not a slut, haha.

 Well I don’t think you would be considered a slut if you’re pregnant with someone else’s kid. It just is what it is. I just think you need to try more to prevent it from happening. Are you on birth control?

 No, I should be though.

 Well you use condoms right?

 No…. she says weakly and guiltily. He pulls out but he got me pregnant with precum.

 Well yeah of course you can get pregnant like that! Damn it woman how much is a condom?

 Well yeah but I don’t like using condoms, they fuck with my pleasure.

Well since you’re not on the pill or using condoms, you’re pregnant. Are you planning on keeping this one?

 No. Well it just isn’t a good time for me right now. I’m going to school and it would interfere with everything.

 Well will your boyfriend help you at all?

 No, he doesn’t even help me with our daughter. He’s going to school and just got a job at home depot but he’s relying mostly on his financial aid to pay for everything like his rent and food. I have to worry about feeding her, buying her clothes and he doesn’t give me anything.

 Well why are you still with someone like that, and getting pregnant with him when he won’t help you out?

 I don’t know, I got used to him.

  Well yeah you can be used to someone but you should be smarter than that. I mean he’s just taking advantage. Is he going to help pay for the (abortion) I say quietly.

 No, he didn’t even help me with the other one I had.

 How much does it cost?

 It’s 538 dollars! I mean I think it’s more expensive because I’ve had one before.

 There’s no doubt in your mind that says you should keep it?

 No, not this time. I had my baby because before her I went through a miscarriage and I got really depressed after. When I got pregnant again, I had to have the baby because I couldn’t do it again.

 I understand, I mean my mom went through similar things and I saw how depressed she would get after losing the baby. Well as long as you don’t have any doubts.

 Well I mean I’m thinking what if I regret it later?

 Well the only thing you can do is finish school and make sure that you do everything that you can in order to make it so that you didn’t do it in vain.