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[bikeridestonowhere]

Her silhouette haunts me, Tugging at my feet everywhere that I go, The shadow of beauty, It doesn’t seem to ever let go.

The comparisons that pull at my heart and yank my eyes from the present, This focus on my loving past will kill my future, Love is current and cannot exist in the past. Her words etch my brain like a beautiful diagram, From the inside of my skull you see the colors of black and white move on the wall, the cavity, Frantically covering the designs they were intended to confuse, They never were aligned, They were like my emotions and sincere efforts, They’re only being used.

So this pale street seems deprived of nothing, but glum to me, As I’m stripped of the joy in my heart, And it’s tossed in the concrete sea of dirt and trash, That’s swept by only the rubber incisions of those who are moving, Moving, Past me they go, Further and further! Faster and faster, More and more, But dear lord, Why did you make me alone?

Was I a message? An imprint of my father, A little taller, more striking in appearance, but a terrible man, That spits poison through words, And seduces with the same weapon. For if hate described the contempt I shall feel, Then I will not be the one to climb the hill, Of self attrition I claim, To kill off the hate and instead to proclaim, My lord, my god, am I forsaken?! If this body is thy temple, Then why is the flesh the sin?! If my gifted mind is the solution, Then what is this problem within?!

My love is a mockery that changes who.i am.

Her memory is killing the version that’s in front of me. My memory is depriving her of the love and rewarding her patience with sin, but worst of all my lord, If your path I am to follow, And my heart shall remain so hollow, To I take thy hand and follow on the road, OR do I leave the past and let go? I do not pray, I do not love. But if I am condemned, it’s because I never obeyed.

[bikeridestonowhere]

Solutions

  Her name is not a name that I will  forget, nor something I will ever want to have to stop saying. A name I don’t wish to utter for the last couple times in the next decade, but a name I would testify to the world as my tombstone etches the memory of “A Loving Husband” only to be lived on by you. No one in this world has impacted me in the way that the love of my life has. One might have asked me, how did you know she was the one meant for you?

  I did not. For a long time I actually was looking for someone else. I was curious as to who else might want me. Curious as to who would want to kiss me. It took me quite a while to get accustomed to the idea of her. The name was what started it, the looks, facial features, the idea that this human being was the one for me was an idea I had not embraced or encouraged openly to anyone.

  A year full of memories is the only thing I can attest to show how my love has grown, how the idea she is the one for me will not change, and how I am not a fool to make these broad statements about confusing ideals most people don’t get to understand. Idealistic is what a man trying to live life with the possibility of other women is what most men would call me. A fool or  a naive and misguided kid for believing in the idea of a soulmate. I love her and I want her, but there’s a problem that is amidst.

But first, the memories.

If you had asked me to hold a girl’s hand openly and suffer the consequences of commitment for it 2 years ago I would of scoffed and cowered in privacy. I don’t like commitment to women because most are not emotionally compatible to me. I’m confusing so a lot of tolerance is required in the girl meant for me, I’ve also sinned so forgiveness is a must.

It started with a simple affair of flirting. It was innocent curiosity on her part, but turned into sexual advances quickly. They were abrupt and common by me. I was forceful of being sexual onto most girls and that trait is not something I lost. I just didn’t feel the need to continue doing it with her. I saw most women as an opportunity for physicality, not happiness. I saw most women with the chance of sex, kissing, flirting. A coping mechanism, an escape from my sins and a boost to my ego. A coward’s seductive measures is the best way I could describe them. I did it to be happy until I knew what true joy was. At first it was hard to leave behind casual sexual affairs for one young lady. I didn’t want to and in the beginning I didn’t. I still treated her like other girls and I would pursue others. I didn’t second guess it, I just told her how shitty of a person I was and she understood but was hurt. It took a long time of me not liking the empty feeling of the physicality until I realized that nothing but kindness can fill the gap we have in our hearts. The emptiness that stretches into a canyon, down deep in your gut, the emptiness that weighs on your face, that makes a frown into a permanent look. That feeling of being alone can only be filled with the joy of love.

I discovered that with her. We started off going on dates and I started to commit 100% to her for god knows why. I’ve come to think of it as destiny. I didn’t know what she saw in me and I knew I had tried her patience, so that made me try very hard to win her over. I wasn’t the most coordinated romantic as I was inexperienced. That lack of experience saved me. If you understand, my experience was winning women over with witty comments and seducing them. It was not getting them to love your flaws and enjoy your company. My lack of experience made it genuine. Something I will never be able to recreate with another woman and something I never want to recreate. It would just be another vice of mine that would allow me to seduce more women and spit poison in their hearts.

When we started to get going on a deeper emotional level, I really really started to like her. I thought her smirk was beautiful, how shy and quiet she was interested me. She was tolerant and understanding and I never had to give an excuse for something(although I would anyway)she would just nod her head, smile and say" That’s alright.“ . She knew a lot more than I imagined she would. I thought she was ditsy and slow, but she was more intelligent than me and so humble she could put a preacher to shame. I started to fall for her.

Falling in love is hard. It’s harder when you’re still flirting with other girls. That was my problem. I was so used to talking to multiple girls, I continued to do so. None of it meant I had feelings or that I didn’t love her but a lot of habits are hard to break. The worst part of this was that I loved her and I also still felt alone. So I pursued some casual flirting in the early phases of the relationship. I just didn’t know how to stop. I was able to cut it out by cutting out communication with anyone else than her. It helped until the problem arose again.

When I fell in love with her I wanted to be hers forever and nothing could change that. I saw her hair move and was intoxicated with it. She would grab my hand and my heart would melt. I would cry looking at her because I was amazed at how lucky I was with her. I had never been happier in my life and nothing will ever take that away. I get teary eyed as though I am speaking with my savior thinking of it. I realized at one moment I would never be happier with anyone else than with her, but some things, some flaws will follow you, sitting in your shadow waiting to strike.

My flaws followed me and were hidden by the outstanding love I felt for so long I forgot them, but small things would arise when they could. For example, all her friends still in high school knew how much of a scumbag I was. If you graduated with me you know the stories I speak of. She tried so desperately from ever letting me get hurt. She’d nurture me and prevent me from ever hearing about the comments people made, until I started pushing the issue and asking her to tell me. Learning about how shitty of a person I was reminded me of how much I hated myself. I hated everything about myself. So for a while I went into a depression.

When I was depressed, she didn’t want to be near me as often. No one likes a negative Nancy, so that made sense, but it was hard you know? being alone and the one person who consoles you isn’t around. It was a hard time in my life. I had been depressed before, I had tried committing suicide, I had tried running away. I’ve done most of anything I could do to escape myself. I needed her but when she was around, I wasn’t the man she wanted. I don’t remember how I got through it, at one point things when back to normal but I still felt different. Not that I didn’t love her, I just felt hurt. One day, a couple months after we were normal together again I was driving. Driving down the road I floored it. To this day I don’t know what came over me, but I almost killed myself. I immediately drove to her and she held me as I cried on her shoulder. I don’t remember most of that night, I just remember wanting to never leave her.

At one point in the relationship, I started to look for catfish for Paypal. I know, funny right? Well long story short, I had to pose as a single guy on tinder and other social networks to help find people who scam men and commit identity theft and also use women’s photos to lure them in. I won’t go into the details, but the problem was that I had to talk to some girls who were REAL. one thing led to another and I remained faithful, but disturbed. All the time I was on those websites I didn’t know how to tell girl’s I had a girlfriend. this ended up leading to some casual flirting. When she would ignore me or just not text back, I would enjoy having conversations with these girls. nothing was blatantly terrible, but any moment I wasn’t thinking of how in love I was, I was weakening my resolve to my commitment.

This eventually led me to cut everything off. I felt uncomfortable but the damage was done. I was doubting if she was really the woman for me in my life. I started to look at if she was too passive, and I started to realize how like my father, an unfaithful liar, I could be. This story isn’t about the flaws of her. It wouldn’t be a long story.

I’m here now, on a break from the woman I’m convinced is the love of my life. I’ve said a great many things to her, but I know they won’t matter in years to come if it works out, but they’ll define us if we don’t. I’m a man with little redeeming qualities but I know what needs to be done to stop myself.

So I’ve said a lot of things, and I need a lot of things, but when I’m not thinking about myself I realize in order for a solution to be made it cannot be a relationship where one person agrees to other. I’m a very commanding man, but I do not believe a relationship can be only one person.

At the end of the day, I love her with all of my heart. I may be alone right now, but I’m a better person not having to worry about the next girl I see being the one I may love, because I already met her. I would not trade the world for her, whether she chose to ever see me again later in life, tomorrow, or never again. Not many people can grace this earth with the title of an angel in flesh, but she made me a better man, I loved when I thought I would not. I love her when I know she may no longer want to be with me, and I’m joyous in a way that with or without her, I know she’ll be fine without me.

[bikeridestonowhere]

The only thing I feel,

is the wind that leaves me as quickly as it came,

and left me colder than I was before,

The only words I hear,

are the ones that I cannot forget,

that dig deeper than their meaning

hitting harder than what you might believe. 

[bikeridestonowhere]

The sting was deep. Not deep like a sharp wound, nothing was piercing his body. 

It wasn’t a thrust deep into the heart, The deepness was that of a canyon. 

Huge, twisted, and empty.

From the canyon seemed to spew regret, flooding his mind with feelings.

His eyes bled painful rivers.

Rivers that broke through the walls of the pestilence that shielded him from himself for so long.

The insides that once felt secure were now in full gear,

as though they had turned on him and were devouring his soul.

He would never be worth it again, the death of his effort hurt.

It hurt more than any physical pain he could feel.

His failure was his own, conceived and produced by his decisions.

[bikeridestonowhere]

“And what better way for man to die, Facing fearful odds, For the Ashes of his Fathers, And the Temples of his Gods?”

— (via bikeridestonowhere)

[bikeridestonowhere]

Adversity.

And I have seen the sun burn through my eyes, 

Watched my pain simmer in disguise,

I’ve loved a girl I’ve never met,

But I’ve known happiness with her and not content. 

I’ve seen a person crumble as a man,

Recede inside himself, and let the insecurities consume his hand.

And if the drugs flow deep, 

and his blood turns black,

Let the son of that father,

Learn to become a different man.

Now I’ve seen my walls crumble,

My hand has trembled,

My eyes have yielded, 

My mind has retreated,

but if the sun could only blind me, 

then the world cannot bind me,

and this pain will not define me.

[bikeridestonowhere]

The Origin of Happiness

And to whom do I belong if no one shall claim me?

Where have I come from if there is no origin?

From what family do I hail if I am not a descendent?

And how can I ail a weakening mind;

If no one has taught me how to mend it?

The question of beginning,

Not as compelling as the end,

But if it goes unanswered,

How can one ever be content?

So am I an apple fallen from the tree?

That lays on the forest floor,

Or perhaps I’m a soldier,

Destined to go to war.

Am I an intelligent flower,

blooming in my life,

Or a decaying soul,

that is running out of time?

What is my comfort?

What is my skill?

The answers may be in one’s own heart,

Or they may be contemplations while seeking some thrills.

Without a love,

Without some guidance,

With plenty to judge,

And little to care,

Who am I to you?

And do I even dare,

Ask the question of my importance,

For it is not evident in my eyes,

But perhaps seeing all things black and white,

Helps dispel the lies.

For if I go around,

And sulk in my own sorrow,

Then I’ll never see the beauty,

Of living for tomorrow.

[bikeridestonowhere]

How purity helps others.

By Dylan Rodriguez

Date: 3-23-14

                “Everything…affects everything” –Jay Asher

Magnificence.

What is it? Is it a view we have never seen in our lives? A beautiful valley never gazed upon? A lover we had never experienced until recently? Magnificence is anything we want it to be, conditioned and created by our own perception, which in itself is created and formed by a set of circumstances that we cannot control. The world… our world… is magnificent. Everything from the particles we cannot see to the people we will never meet, from the physical superiority of one animal to the intellectual dominance of another’s. Whether it be problems of the physical world or time-consuming battles we have in our minds over feelings and decisions we must make, the world, is…..magnificent.

Keep reading

[bikeridestonowhere]

The Fight

                My dream is that I become a father; A man who loves his children and his wife and takes care of them with a full heart and the utmost intensity. I know that I will be able to live happily with them while also eliminating any trivial wants and needs; I will become more than anything I will ever be regardless of my career choice because raising a family fulfills any more purpose than the way you bring money in. I want to have a relationship with my family because no matter what, when I am older, family will always be first. I wish I felt the same about my immediate family. I wish I was raised in a family, by a father, who had the same goals.

                The majority of my childhood was always spent with my grandparents because my mother was always working. She worked her ass off to take care of the family. Understandably they assisted raising us by splitting time with us by my grandfather taking care of me and my sister (only two years older than me) during the week and my grandmother would take care of us on the weekends. My father figure in life was my grandfather. A man who would spoil the family with groceries every morning even if the fridge was past its limit, he knew that a surplus would always help. He would grace me and my sister with free travel to parks and let us roam the world we did not yet understand but he let us grace it with our imaginations while at times, we would go to McDonald’s after school to go eat and play in the play place. That man was the kind of man who would take the shirt off his back and give it to you if you needed it. He helped everyone he knew. I never really appreciated him until his passing, at age 10 of my life I loss that man. The sadness played by the loss of him was worsened when my biological father had stepped into the picture with two siblings and a stepbrother I did not know.

 Now my real dad had been around growing up. He would see us from time to time when he wasn’t in prison or with women we didn’t know. He spent most of his time with us months at a time. Coming and going as my mother would throw him out. I vaguely remember the fights between him and her, one time I remember him pulling her hair and dragging her to the car because she wouldn’t take him to his friends. I remember a lot, most of his rage being blind and without cause but he wasn’t so horrible I couldn’t get along with him. I always wanted a dad, but he was never around. And people are right when they say that the evil you know is better than the evil you don’t. When he was around he was always violent but sometimes relaxed. He made ignorant comments about the government often and held anti-government and anti-fed ideals in high esteem. Being an ex-convict, but sometimes one who would go visit his past life, he hated the system. IT never stopped him from boasting about how he wasn’t afraid of it. He never really raised me and I don’t think I ever really knew him but the stories he’d tell of his crimes were fascinating to a kid. You could always go to another kid and talk about all the cool, illegal violent felonies your father committed and the “hookups” he had because he was a badass. I later realized he was just a shitty person.

What motivated me to become a great father was a particular fight, one not too long ago that struck me hard. The months leading up to it consisted of my always-forgiving mother throwing him out and letting him back out of misplaced emotion because she never really had a deterrent against his erratic behavior, or enough will to resist the lies and promises of change he always had at the ready when it came to finding a place to live and a person to care for his children. I wasn’t a kid anymore. I was tired of him. I hated his existence and the drama that came with the extra bodies in the house, my callous attitude towards him never failed to ignite fights but one evening, It wasn’t my attitude that started a fight. It was his drunken persona and my mother’s fed up attitude. I walked into the living room to find them screaming at each other and her telling me to call the cops because he won’t leave.

I instantly knew this wasn’t like the screaming contests from before.

His body language showed he wanted to hurt someone. He got in her face and grabbed the phone, throwing it to the ground to keep her from calling the cops. I decided to ease tensions instead of fighting him because

1. I didn’t want my mother to get hurt and

2. I couldn’t call the cops sending him to jail because my younger siblings would not forgive me for sending him away. He wasn’t the bad man to them yet, they still wanted their dad like I used to.

I got between them and started calmly telling him to get back, separating him from my mother. He then kept pushing my hands off of him and trying to shove me away, I regained myself and as soon as I went to take him back again he said something that pissed me off. Something about helping my whore for a mother and how I was being stupid and how she had brainwashed me to hate him. I remember him looking as I responded by demanding “You’re not going to hurt my mother so either you get back or go back to prison. It doesn’t matter but I am sick of this. I won’t deal with your shit any longer so quit. You’re only causing problems for everyone. Even the kids.  I expected to get into a full out brawl. I had clenched my fists and years of tension, anger, depression had all built up and the once small child deprived of an eased mind was now ready to fight the one man he thought was a solution to his problem.

Only, he didn’t hit me.

He said “You’re probably the offspring of some other man that your mother fucked. “

“You aren’t my son.”

In a millisecond I was hit with a wave of emotion, mostly shock. I felt an emotional pain that I can’t accurately describe as a sharp pain because it was more of emptiness, wider than a canyon.

I regained myself to defend my mother only for the conclusion of his story to be found in him leaving within the next hour. I haven’t spoken with him sense. Not that he doesn’t want to, and he avidly tries to change that. But I never want a child to go through what I did. Especially my own. I never want to know that my child holds such great contempt for me as I hold for my dad.  I will never have a true father outside my grandpa. I will never ever have anything to do with the man known as my dad either. I was not abused physically growing up, but emotional harboring of a child can be just as painful. I wish that someday I make my child happy and they look forward to seeing me as does my wife will.

“You know… you need a license to buy a dog, to drive a car - hell, you even need a license to catch a fish. But they’ll let any butt-reaming asshole be a father.”

- Dylan Rodriguez

[bikeridestonowhere]

[bikeridestonowhere]

Time capsule

After reading so much of my former "blog"...wow. I was a little edgy to say the least. It's been a long time since I've been on here but I'm cringing at a lot of former posts/ notes I have. lol sorry for ANYTHING you see here guys I just thought I'd revisit this place for fun but seeing how I posted makes me feel super bad for anyone who followed me. It was a different time I guess.

[bikeridestonowhere]

Know that I was never as perfect as you thought I was; but that I was in fact an inherently flawed individual that loved you with every piece of my broken soul and still does. And no matter what you do in this life or however far away from me it may take you that love is still yours. No one can ever take it from you… for as little or as much as it’s worth to you.

Ranata Suzuki (via theprocast)

[bikeridestonowhere]

1. Sometimes, the only way to survive the day is to breathe and that’s okay. Breathing is enough. You’ll get through this. Just don’t give up. 2. Don’t feel bad about yourself when you haven’t accomplished what needs to be done. You still have tomorrow. Everything is going to be fine. And don’t let your emotions and panic attacks take control over your whole being. 3. Do not breakdown when you are under pressure. Calm yourself. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. Keep in mind the reason why you started what you’re doing in the first place and always be open to failures. Take failures as a lesson to make bigger progress on your next step. 4. If you feel like giving up, just remember the endgame on why you’re doing such thing. Always remember the prize that awaits after all the hardship that you’re going through. It’s going to be worth it. Believe in yourself and in what you can. 5. Rest when needed. Do not exhaust yourself. One step at a time. Rediscover your passion when needed. Concentrate. Focus on what you want to achieve. You will get to your destination, I promise

5 things i’ve learned after having anxiety attack for days | vegaaskies. (via theprocast)

[bikeridestonowhere]

When one day you look back and feel lonely, when all your struggles come crushing you down, when you want someone to listen to your silent pleas, and you want a hug and find no one to hug you, find me. I’ll be staying alive in the dreams you have before you sleep. And if there comes a day when you cannot reach me in your dreams, look for me. That’s when I’m drowning on my own struggles, that’s when I want someone to listen to me and hug me and tell me everything’s going to be okay. That’s when I need you most.

cynthia go // Look for me (via theprocast)

[bikeridestonowhere]

[bikeridestonowhere]

“Ruby Sparks”

[bikeridestonowhere]

(18+)