Uncertainty

Song of the moment: Drive by Incubus



Sometimes,
I feel the fear of
uncertainty stinging clear.
And I
can't help but ask myself
how much I'll let the fear
take the wheel and steer.
It's driven me before,
and it seems to have a vague,
haunting mass appeal.
But lately I am beginning to find that I
should be the one behind the wheel.


Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there
with open arms and open eyes. Yeah


Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there
I'll be there


So if I
decide to waiver my chance to be one of the hive
will I
choose water over wine
and hold my own and drive?
It's driven me before
and it seems to be the way
that everyone else gets around.
But lately I'm
beginning to find that
when I drive myself my light is found.


whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there
with open arms and open eyes. Yeh.


whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there
I'll be there


Would you choose water over wine.... hold the wheel and drive?


whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there
with open arms and open eyes. Yeh.


whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there
I'll be there

Care to listen to this song?

I can no longer tell the difference between my dreams and reality. Sometimes, my dreams seem more real to me than reality itself. Lorraine and I were talking about death in dreams last night on AIM. She told me that she once dreamnt about someone dying, and all she could do was laugh. I don't think I can ever laugh in anybody's death. Before, I used to think I was emotionally tough and that I can make myself laugh at a funeral if I wanted to. I was a sadistic freak. I think I've grown emotionally and have learned that life is too precious to throw away. I was stuck in such a stage of angsty depression and hate for the world, but the more I hated people, the deeper I would sink into my bottomless pit of open darkness.


I've been thinking for a long time now that I should change my Blogger layout. I've had so many dark and twisted layouts... I think its about time I move on. I'm not saying I'm going to change my layout into something pink, purple and white or anything. Just maybe something a little less scary and depressed.


But then, my laziness kicks in and I've been having this "artistic block" for some time now. I remember when I was all obsessed with Photoshop and being a computer graphic artist for a living, but then I would see the works of other computer graphic artists, and would be intimidated. That's when I stopped having those 'dreams' of becoming a professional web designer and Photoshop pro.


Back to dreams. I have had three dreams of my mother dying. The most vivid one was when someone stabbed her in the middle of our living room. I was in front of her, watching her struggle. I was just standing there as if I didn't care. Then the oddest thing happened; a white light started oozing out of our wall. As it grew and grew, I saw the image of Jesus in the bright, white light. He stepped into our living room, picked up my mother, and walked away in the white horizon of the mysterious fog. And there I stand, emotionless, lifeless, careless. I woke up crying. I don't even know if I was crying because I had just dreamnt of my mom dying, I think I was crying because I had lacked so much emotion.


My grandfather's death has impacted my life more than anything in the world. He impacted my life more than anyone in the world. I was four years old when he died. I remember walking into the room where they held his pre-funeral "viewing" of his body. Everyone was dressed in black, the decors were of black and red, and I just remember ever so vividly the image of my grandmother crying in front of his casket. My mom picked me up over his cold, dead body and showed me how handsome he looked in his tux. By that time, I still didn't completely understand the meaning of death. I must have been the only one in that room that didn't have the least bit of tear in my eye. In my childish, oblivious comprehension, I thought my grandfather was in slumber... just in a deep, trepidated slumber. And I thought they were crying in hopes of waking him up, that if he saw how sad everyone was, he'd realize that it wasn't his time to go. I tried so hard to cry. I forced myself to cry. I couldn't even get a single tear to roll down my face, and I felt so frustrated.


After that day, when I got older and understood the meaning of death, I started to feel as if I had a black heart. I didn't think I was capable of crying, even for someone I loved ever so dearly. And when I got older to completely realize the sadness of this situation, I started to just cry every single night. Everytime I would feel sad, I would remember that incident when I didn't cry for the person I loved the most, and the next thing I know, there would be tears streaming down my face. Back when I was the tender age of 7-13, I honestly believed I had a black heart. A black, ever so fiendishly cold heart that refuses to love and be loved in return.


But then I grew up.


Even now, I still feel sad about things I can't easily talk about with just anyone. The difference between now and then, is that now, I'm not some sadistic, life-hating fiend. The sadness that I have endured in the past sixteen years of my life has become nothing more than an illusion of a very special lesson. A lesson that teaches me to just.... love life. Without love, you cannot feel emotion. Without emotion, brings me sadness and depression. And I've already been through that. I hate hating myself, and hatred brings you nothing but even more hatred. With love, you learn something even deeper than hate. And love branches off into more (positive) posibilities. You can do so much more with the love and appreciation of life.


It's hard for me to be happy and go-lucky with my history of negativity. You might think that I'm being way to over dramatic just because my grandfather died, but you only know 1/20th of the whole story. The thing with my grandfather is just a puzzle piece of my life.


If I could just be more optimistic and happy, I'd be fine. The happiness within me comes and leaves, but if I just get used to it and find something that doesn't easily bore me or annoy me, then I can easily make that smooth transition between depression and happiness. You see, this is why I want to move into a new city and start off fresh. I have had so many bad memories and experiences here in Santa Cruz, and I want to make that transition without the obstacle of things that remind me of the past. Maybe, if I move somewhere else, forgetting my negative past would be a lot easier than forgetting the past, while I'm living in the past (Santa Cruz). I sometimes feel as if I wasted these last nine years that I have been living here.


Oh wait. I thought I was going to think more optimistically. Okay. Uhhh.... these last nine years have been great. And wonderful. Damnit. I'd be lying to myself if I actually believed that. Okay... lets see.... these last nine years have been a lesson well-learned that feeling pity for yourself brings nothing more but trouble. Shit. That analogy sucks.


I guess I'll come up with a better analogy later. For now, I am sitting here in the upstairs of my house, fucking sweating to death. I cannot believe how fucking hot it is, in the middle of FALL. lol. California is so wierd. I smell... I'm gonna go now and shower of this disgusting, sticky sweat that has formed all over my hands. It's hard to type this way.


Oh yeah... Tya never called me, that stupid whore. We were supposed to hang out today and buy our Sugarcult tickets for tommorow. Oh well, I guess I won't go. I need to do my Analysis homework anyways. =)



Your the 'Fallen angel, Drifting through the world
in your tormented and troubled mind, you see
the bad side in everything but only because you
lost your compassion and optimism when you fell
from heaven... you dont understand humans, or
yourself.. but you accept it and live just to
complain { or so it would seem sometimes } your
the dispar in the balence wharas the angel is
topped too much to the other side of the
scale... you live to wonder..


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What the hell. This just completely contradicted my entire post.