Tuesday, March 30, 2004
blahg
If you have the time, I'll bore you with details.
Resurrecting a giant, no? So, people say I have a dark sense of humor and, whenever I think of it, it reminds me of one of my (better) football coaches saying that helicopter pilots have those. Considering how much Black Hawk Down gave me the urge to fly,(even though it was more the guys on the ground I loved and even though stupid Jeremy Priven gets shot down[John Favreau, you're my hero.]) maybe I should look into it. BUT then I remembered that any idiot can fly a Black Hawk(It is everything-proof you know.) and it takes a real man to fly a jet. So someday, Mr. Guillen and I shall be bombing a town near you. I call Maverick.
If you have the time, I'll bore you with details.
Resurrecting a giant, no? So, people say I have a dark sense of humor and, whenever I think of it, it reminds me of one of my (better) football coaches saying that helicopter pilots have those. Considering how much Black Hawk Down gave me the urge to fly,(even though it was more the guys on the ground I loved and even though stupid Jeremy Priven gets shot down[John Favreau, you're my hero.]) maybe I should look into it. BUT then I remembered that any idiot can fly a Black Hawk(It is everything-proof you know.) and it takes a real man to fly a jet. So someday, Mr. Guillen and I shall be bombing a town near you. I call Maverick.
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
you ask whats my motivation
its one part desperation
and equal part patience
nevers adds to elation
its one part desperation
and equal part patience
nevers adds to elation
Guess I'll just close my eyes
From : fiction@newyorker.com
Sent : Wednesday, March 24, 2004 7:45 AM
To : bierayas61@hotmail.com (must stay safe)
Subject : Re: submission
We regret that we are unable to use the enclosed material. Thank you for giving us the opportunity to consider it.
The Editors
Whores! I'm now 0-4 and going crazier than ever. Fuck. I'm going to have to get a real job when I grow up. M,a,y,b,e, a,l,l, m,y, c,o,m,m,a,s, d,r,i,v,e, t,h,e,m, i,n,s,a,n,e, because I am a "Grammar Nazi" and 'tis the truth and nothing more. Guess I'll spend my three-day weekend at home trying to develop whatever writing skill I have, unless everyone lies to me about what a great story I write. This is what they rejected, non-fiction with just a twist of fake to hopefully make it interesting.
Trip to New York/The Death Ride
We went on a trip to upstate New York a few years ago and my mother had the brilliant idea of driving the whole way. She said, "We drive to Dallas (a twelve hour drive) with six people in a six-seater truck all the time, so what is the difference?" The difference was that this was a drive across half the country and would take three days non-stop to do. Another slight difference was that my dad was going to fly up and meet us there, sticking my mom with all the driving. Since there would be no driver for her to alternate with, we would only be able to drive when she felt like driving. My mother can barely stand driving through the half hour of traffic it takes to get to school, so I didn't think we would ever make it to New York.
Like most trips, we planned to start the long haul at three in the morning. Why it has always been this way I do not understand. Though also like most trips, we didn't end up leaving until eight or nine. I liked the planning of it because I could stay awake through the night playing video games or watching TV. And then through the ride I could sleep and not have to be bothered with my brothers' screams, smells, and the amazingly massive amount of space they take up in a car. I would pay for my late night "antics" with having bloodshot eyes the next day. The sleep, if long enough, would cure this. Of course, sleep could not always be achieved because I possess the strangest body clock God has ever created. Regardless of how tired I am, I only get sleepy around four in the afternoon.
Even the waking hours on this trip were pretty fun because I had just discovered Stephen King books. I had started reading the Dark Tower series, which I found to be a story about “The Journey” better than the Lord of the Ring. I am not saying that Stephen King is the greatest writer ever, but I’d have to say that he suits me just fine. Maybe it’s the way that he mixes in humor to all the situations his characters find themselves in. People always tell me that I must be a huge horror fanatic because I always read his work, but I don’t find most of his books aren’t really all that scary. Maybe it’s the thought of having something that scary lurking the streets or just the suspense of knowing that it could pop out any minute (or would it be the suspense of not knowing when it would pop out,) but Stephen King is one of the greatest in my book.
We were going to upstate New York, but, seeing as my mom controlled the wheel with her iron fist of incomprehensibility, we had to make stops in Illinois, Washington, D.C., and the Big Apple.
My mom has relatives living in Mount Carmel, Illinois, so she decided to stop by and give them a little visit. I didn’t really feel like sitting around visiting after driving for three days, so I decided to walk around the surrounding countryside. I found a lot of interesting stuff that sparked my imagination. There was a lot of vegetation so I got to pretend like I was Arnold Schwarzenegger and the alien Predator was after me. Remember, I was just a lowly thirteen-year-old at the time. When I was there, I just wanted to go home because I couldn’t stand the humidity and I was tired of my family with two more weeks of “quality time” with them ahead of me.
Washington, D.C. was some real fun, though. When we drove up to my uncle’s house, there was no one home. It was a narrow driveway and my mom, being the horrid driver that she is, mangled my uncle’s mailbox. We tried to cover it up as well as we could, but my uncle said when they first moved into the house that they ran it over all the time. When we got out, we all were happy to be out, but couldn’t get away from the Game Boy. It sucks you in and never lets go. We bought two games, Blade and this X-men game, at an outlet dealer in Kentucky just because we were getting tired of playing Pokemon the whole trip. My smallest brother got to play it while we were walking around his house looking for an entrance. He was completely absorbed in the game when he tripped on a brick and landed face first into the concrete. It showed him that his turn was over it was right away.
We couldn’t find an entrance so we drove around until my uncle got home. He let us in and immediately ordered pizza because he and his wife are too lazy to cook. My uncle has two cats, which my family hates. Not that we hate those cats, just cats in general. We have horrible allergic reactions to cats. My grandma had a cat a long time ago and I petted it for a while only to later break out in a disgusting case of hives. I had spent a week with the same uncle once and the cat was always in doorways. I wanted to kick the living rag across the room. My brother’s (the one who fell on his face) asthma starts to act up when he’s around cats, so we all have a unifying hatred of cats. While we were there, my brother could hardly breathe. We were driving to a local landmark when he threw up in the backseat. We had almost reached our destination and, as always, were going to be late for the tour, so we had no time to clean up the mess. We covered it up with all the random papers and Kleenex we could find in the truck and let it sit. When we got back, the summer sun had intensified the stench. It was no easy trip back to my uncle’s.
Our uncle showed us a new toy he had bought called Bop It Extreme, which, I can still say today, is one of the coolest toys ever. We soon became disinterested in the Game Boy, as any child should. The goal is to see how long you can keep up with the pace of the game by doing certain things to certain parts of the toy. It keeps track of how far you go and it tells you your score when you lose. In the two days we had the toy, we made it well over one hundred. My brother bought a miniature version of the toy and we played it the whole way home or at least until our mom yelled at us to “shut the crazy thing up.”
Next, we made our way to New York, New York. Along the way, we picked up my dad at the airport in Baltimore. My oldest cousin lives in “Spanish Harlem” and we spent a couple of nights with her. She has a two-room apartment that she has to share with a roommate because the rent is so high. The rent is something like one thousand dollars a month because they are relatively close to the river, even though they also live right across the street from the projects. There was a park a few blocks away from her house so we decided to go there. My cousin’s boyfriend-now-fiancé was complaining about how hot it was that day. Obviously, he had never spent a day in El Paso because the temperature was fine by me. My family acted like any black person there was out to get them. That is one thing I never understood about anyone. People are people. If they come at you like they’re going to attack you, then you should be worried, but, if they are minding their own, then let them be. There was a group of guys in the park having a party of some sort and I remember they started taking pictures and in one all of them held their bottles of whatever liquor they had towards the camera. I thought it was pretty funny.
Finally, we made it to the Adirondacks in upstate New York. I don’t remember a lot of what happened there, but I remember the trip back was another death ride. On the way back, my mom may have broken a record by getting four tickets in three states. The road was hers to destroy. At least, the police try their best to keep reckless driving under control.
From : fiction@newyorker.com
Sent : Wednesday, March 24, 2004 7:45 AM
To : bierayas61@hotmail.com (must stay safe)
Subject : Re: submission
We regret that we are unable to use the enclosed material. Thank you for giving us the opportunity to consider it.
The Editors
Whores! I'm now 0-4 and going crazier than ever. Fuck. I'm going to have to get a real job when I grow up. M,a,y,b,e, a,l,l, m,y, c,o,m,m,a,s, d,r,i,v,e, t,h,e,m, i,n,s,a,n,e, because I am a "Grammar Nazi" and 'tis the truth and nothing more. Guess I'll spend my three-day weekend at home trying to develop whatever writing skill I have, unless everyone lies to me about what a great story I write. This is what they rejected, non-fiction with just a twist of fake to hopefully make it interesting.
Trip to New York/The Death Ride
We went on a trip to upstate New York a few years ago and my mother had the brilliant idea of driving the whole way. She said, "We drive to Dallas (a twelve hour drive) with six people in a six-seater truck all the time, so what is the difference?" The difference was that this was a drive across half the country and would take three days non-stop to do. Another slight difference was that my dad was going to fly up and meet us there, sticking my mom with all the driving. Since there would be no driver for her to alternate with, we would only be able to drive when she felt like driving. My mother can barely stand driving through the half hour of traffic it takes to get to school, so I didn't think we would ever make it to New York.
Like most trips, we planned to start the long haul at three in the morning. Why it has always been this way I do not understand. Though also like most trips, we didn't end up leaving until eight or nine. I liked the planning of it because I could stay awake through the night playing video games or watching TV. And then through the ride I could sleep and not have to be bothered with my brothers' screams, smells, and the amazingly massive amount of space they take up in a car. I would pay for my late night "antics" with having bloodshot eyes the next day. The sleep, if long enough, would cure this. Of course, sleep could not always be achieved because I possess the strangest body clock God has ever created. Regardless of how tired I am, I only get sleepy around four in the afternoon.
Even the waking hours on this trip were pretty fun because I had just discovered Stephen King books. I had started reading the Dark Tower series, which I found to be a story about “The Journey” better than the Lord of the Ring. I am not saying that Stephen King is the greatest writer ever, but I’d have to say that he suits me just fine. Maybe it’s the way that he mixes in humor to all the situations his characters find themselves in. People always tell me that I must be a huge horror fanatic because I always read his work, but I don’t find most of his books aren’t really all that scary. Maybe it’s the thought of having something that scary lurking the streets or just the suspense of knowing that it could pop out any minute (or would it be the suspense of not knowing when it would pop out,) but Stephen King is one of the greatest in my book.
We were going to upstate New York, but, seeing as my mom controlled the wheel with her iron fist of incomprehensibility, we had to make stops in Illinois, Washington, D.C., and the Big Apple.
My mom has relatives living in Mount Carmel, Illinois, so she decided to stop by and give them a little visit. I didn’t really feel like sitting around visiting after driving for three days, so I decided to walk around the surrounding countryside. I found a lot of interesting stuff that sparked my imagination. There was a lot of vegetation so I got to pretend like I was Arnold Schwarzenegger and the alien Predator was after me. Remember, I was just a lowly thirteen-year-old at the time. When I was there, I just wanted to go home because I couldn’t stand the humidity and I was tired of my family with two more weeks of “quality time” with them ahead of me.
Washington, D.C. was some real fun, though. When we drove up to my uncle’s house, there was no one home. It was a narrow driveway and my mom, being the horrid driver that she is, mangled my uncle’s mailbox. We tried to cover it up as well as we could, but my uncle said when they first moved into the house that they ran it over all the time. When we got out, we all were happy to be out, but couldn’t get away from the Game Boy. It sucks you in and never lets go. We bought two games, Blade and this X-men game, at an outlet dealer in Kentucky just because we were getting tired of playing Pokemon the whole trip. My smallest brother got to play it while we were walking around his house looking for an entrance. He was completely absorbed in the game when he tripped on a brick and landed face first into the concrete. It showed him that his turn was over it was right away.
We couldn’t find an entrance so we drove around until my uncle got home. He let us in and immediately ordered pizza because he and his wife are too lazy to cook. My uncle has two cats, which my family hates. Not that we hate those cats, just cats in general. We have horrible allergic reactions to cats. My grandma had a cat a long time ago and I petted it for a while only to later break out in a disgusting case of hives. I had spent a week with the same uncle once and the cat was always in doorways. I wanted to kick the living rag across the room. My brother’s (the one who fell on his face) asthma starts to act up when he’s around cats, so we all have a unifying hatred of cats. While we were there, my brother could hardly breathe. We were driving to a local landmark when he threw up in the backseat. We had almost reached our destination and, as always, were going to be late for the tour, so we had no time to clean up the mess. We covered it up with all the random papers and Kleenex we could find in the truck and let it sit. When we got back, the summer sun had intensified the stench. It was no easy trip back to my uncle’s.
Our uncle showed us a new toy he had bought called Bop It Extreme, which, I can still say today, is one of the coolest toys ever. We soon became disinterested in the Game Boy, as any child should. The goal is to see how long you can keep up with the pace of the game by doing certain things to certain parts of the toy. It keeps track of how far you go and it tells you your score when you lose. In the two days we had the toy, we made it well over one hundred. My brother bought a miniature version of the toy and we played it the whole way home or at least until our mom yelled at us to “shut the crazy thing up.”
Next, we made our way to New York, New York. Along the way, we picked up my dad at the airport in Baltimore. My oldest cousin lives in “Spanish Harlem” and we spent a couple of nights with her. She has a two-room apartment that she has to share with a roommate because the rent is so high. The rent is something like one thousand dollars a month because they are relatively close to the river, even though they also live right across the street from the projects. There was a park a few blocks away from her house so we decided to go there. My cousin’s boyfriend-now-fiancé was complaining about how hot it was that day. Obviously, he had never spent a day in El Paso because the temperature was fine by me. My family acted like any black person there was out to get them. That is one thing I never understood about anyone. People are people. If they come at you like they’re going to attack you, then you should be worried, but, if they are minding their own, then let them be. There was a group of guys in the park having a party of some sort and I remember they started taking pictures and in one all of them held their bottles of whatever liquor they had towards the camera. I thought it was pretty funny.
Finally, we made it to the Adirondacks in upstate New York. I don’t remember a lot of what happened there, but I remember the trip back was another death ride. On the way back, my mom may have broken a record by getting four tickets in three states. The road was hers to destroy. At least, the police try their best to keep reckless driving under control.
"I'll miss you when I'm gone"
There was a prince who was chauffered from his castle to his school, day in, day out, in his personal horse-drawn carriage by his personal carriage driver. It was an open-air carriage because the prince simply did not like being confined in the slightest. One day after school, the prince walked down the red carpet to his carriage to find a patch over the carriage driver's eye. He asked what had happened and the driver said that he was doing doughnuts in the carriage lot and a bird flew and hit him right in the eye, therefore he could not judge distance, therefore he could not go up the cliff trail to the prince's castle on the mountain very close to the top, just under the king's castle.
The driver had no idea what to do, for he was just a simple carriage driver. The prince thought long and hard and decided that he himself would do what was right by coming of age and driving the carriage. Now the prince had driven an automatic carriage once, but that was only for a short distance and this carriage was a stick-shift carriage and the boy was more afraid of that than switching places with a pauper. Nonetheless, our young hero decided to face up to his fears and drive up the steep and long drive to the castle. During the drive, the prince progressively lost his fear and started to go above the posted horse-power limit and the driver in the back seat advised that he should watch the speed. The prince obviously had diplomatic immunity from any and all laws and could have had the driver beheaded just for saying such an atrocity to a prince. Instead, the prince said, "Be quiet, you blind old man." To this, the driver, a little drunken because of his painkillers, responded, "In the land of the blind, the man with one eye is king." The prince laughed and decided that the driver was more than crazy, he was senile. One should note that, due to lack of funding for asylums, all psychotics are executed. It's euthanasia, not cruelty.
There was a prince who was chauffered from his castle to his school, day in, day out, in his personal horse-drawn carriage by his personal carriage driver. It was an open-air carriage because the prince simply did not like being confined in the slightest. One day after school, the prince walked down the red carpet to his carriage to find a patch over the carriage driver's eye. He asked what had happened and the driver said that he was doing doughnuts in the carriage lot and a bird flew and hit him right in the eye, therefore he could not judge distance, therefore he could not go up the cliff trail to the prince's castle on the mountain very close to the top, just under the king's castle.
The driver had no idea what to do, for he was just a simple carriage driver. The prince thought long and hard and decided that he himself would do what was right by coming of age and driving the carriage. Now the prince had driven an automatic carriage once, but that was only for a short distance and this carriage was a stick-shift carriage and the boy was more afraid of that than switching places with a pauper. Nonetheless, our young hero decided to face up to his fears and drive up the steep and long drive to the castle. During the drive, the prince progressively lost his fear and started to go above the posted horse-power limit and the driver in the back seat advised that he should watch the speed. The prince obviously had diplomatic immunity from any and all laws and could have had the driver beheaded just for saying such an atrocity to a prince. Instead, the prince said, "Be quiet, you blind old man." To this, the driver, a little drunken because of his painkillers, responded, "In the land of the blind, the man with one eye is king." The prince laughed and decided that the driver was more than crazy, he was senile. One should note that, due to lack of funding for asylums, all psychotics are executed. It's euthanasia, not cruelty.
Tuesday, March 23, 2004
Move on. You don't want to read this.
This is to help me find myself.
HAVE YOU...
:x: ever cried over a girl = a little
:x: ever cried over a boy = when i got punched in the nose by a boy
:x: ever been in a fist fight= probably with my brother or maybe Davey Baby
WHAT...
:x: shampoo do you use = whatever but i prefer suave
:x: shoes do you wear = same thing as forever
:x: are you scared of = closed and open spaces
NUMBER...
:x: of times I have been in love? = countless
:x: of times I have had my heart broken? = countless
:x: of girls I have kissed? = 5
:x: of boys I have kissed? = 1, but only on the neck if only people hadnt started watching
:x: of girls I've slept with? = 0.5
:x: of boys I've slept with? = numerous cousins yummmmmm
*Firsts*
First best friend: Danny or Victor I'd say
First real memory of something: lying on my back looking in the mirror
First car: civic with hope
First real job: Telecommunication apprentice
First screen name: robster2k
First self purchased album: Wedding Singer soundtrack(I LOVE the 80s)
First pets: Queta and Goldie
First piercing/tattoo: the ones i have planned
First big trip: LA
First play/musical/performance: those Christmas things at Bethel Temple
First musician you remember hearing in your house: if Wizard of Oz counts that, but if not which one's Pink?
*Lasts*
Last big car ride: New York
Last kiss: Few weeks ago
last beverage drank: orange kool-aid
Last food consumed: quesadilla
Last phone call: to my mom to pick me up(of course she doesnt answer)
Last time showered: minutes ago
Last shoes worn: Dr. Scholl's
Last item bought: a Cruncher
Last disappointment: post-poned license yet again
Last soda drank: citra
Last ice cream eaten: Classic Candy something
Last shirt worn: my rock and roll mountain bike one
*ABC's*
A - Age: 16
B - Best Quality: i like to think sense of humor
C - Choice Of Meat: whatever steak my dad makes
D - Dream Date: Natalie Portman or Jessica Alba or ANYONE
E - Expert Advice Given To You: Life's all fiction and the world's a lie.
G - Greatest Accomplishment: [Entry left blank.]
H - Happiest Day of Your Life: [Entry left blank.]
I - Internal conflicts: Controlling the external.
J - Job title: Telecommunication apprentice.
K - Kool-Aid: Black Cherry, mother fucker.
L - Language: English and Spanish in my head
M - Most Valued Thing I Own: CDs
N - Name: Robbie aka Roberto aka Robbie Bobby aka Robbie Suave aka Robbie Henry
O - Onto Watching..: Dog Day Afternoon
P - Pizza Toppings: Sausage(It feels good in my mouth.)
Q - Question you want to ask: Why did I do this stupid "quiz"?
R - Red is what: Calvin Klein
S - Sport To Watch: Boxing and Rugby
T - Television Show: Kids in the Hall
U - Unique habit: reverse snapping
V - Very bad habit: holding my bladder forever
W - Winter: blows
X - X-rays you've had: none
Y - Year Born: 87
Z - Zodiac Sign: Saggitarius
This is to help me find myself.
HAVE YOU...
:x: ever cried over a girl = a little
:x: ever cried over a boy = when i got punched in the nose by a boy
:x: ever been in a fist fight= probably with my brother or maybe Davey Baby
WHAT...
:x: shampoo do you use = whatever but i prefer suave
:x: shoes do you wear = same thing as forever
:x: are you scared of = closed and open spaces
NUMBER...
:x: of times I have been in love? = countless
:x: of times I have had my heart broken? = countless
:x: of girls I have kissed? = 5
:x: of boys I have kissed? = 1, but only on the neck if only people hadnt started watching
:x: of girls I've slept with? = 0.5
:x: of boys I've slept with? = numerous cousins yummmmmm
*Firsts*
First best friend: Danny or Victor I'd say
First real memory of something: lying on my back looking in the mirror
First car: civic with hope
First real job: Telecommunication apprentice
First screen name: robster2k
First self purchased album: Wedding Singer soundtrack(I LOVE the 80s)
First pets: Queta and Goldie
First piercing/tattoo: the ones i have planned
First big trip: LA
First play/musical/performance: those Christmas things at Bethel Temple
First musician you remember hearing in your house: if Wizard of Oz counts that, but if not which one's Pink?
*Lasts*
Last big car ride: New York
Last kiss: Few weeks ago
last beverage drank: orange kool-aid
Last food consumed: quesadilla
Last phone call: to my mom to pick me up(of course she doesnt answer)
Last time showered: minutes ago
Last shoes worn: Dr. Scholl's
Last item bought: a Cruncher
Last disappointment: post-poned license yet again
Last soda drank: citra
Last ice cream eaten: Classic Candy something
Last shirt worn: my rock and roll mountain bike one
*ABC's*
A - Age: 16
B - Best Quality: i like to think sense of humor
C - Choice Of Meat: whatever steak my dad makes
D - Dream Date: Natalie Portman or Jessica Alba or ANYONE
E - Expert Advice Given To You: Life's all fiction and the world's a lie.
G - Greatest Accomplishment: [Entry left blank.]
H - Happiest Day of Your Life: [Entry left blank.]
I - Internal conflicts: Controlling the external.
J - Job title: Telecommunication apprentice.
K - Kool-Aid: Black Cherry, mother fucker.
L - Language: English and Spanish in my head
M - Most Valued Thing I Own: CDs
N - Name: Robbie aka Roberto aka Robbie Bobby aka Robbie Suave aka Robbie Henry
O - Onto Watching..: Dog Day Afternoon
P - Pizza Toppings: Sausage(It feels good in my mouth.)
Q - Question you want to ask: Why did I do this stupid "quiz"?
R - Red is what: Calvin Klein
S - Sport To Watch: Boxing and Rugby
T - Television Show: Kids in the Hall
U - Unique habit: reverse snapping
V - Very bad habit: holding my bladder forever
W - Winter: blows
X - X-rays you've had: none
Y - Year Born: 87
Z - Zodiac Sign: Saggitarius
Thursday, March 18, 2004
pray for resurrection
have you escaped the guilt
we haven't escaped the pain
no matter how long you escape us
you'll never escape me
do you know his name
did you care to look at his face
eyes bright as the sun
they're put out by another fire
insignificant in comparison
what was the point
it was all for nothing
two losses with one bullet
ours put out by yours
insignificant in comparison
do you remember what it was for
do you know her name
the lost cause you had to find
she put out for the other
(you're) insignificant in comparison
you are the demon from the pit
what grows in the darkest corners
what leaves its mark forever
hoping for the sun to shine through
you eliminate what you think is the source of your pain
the light came down on him though
do you stay under your cloud and feel the cold of the rain?
we do
who would be lost to fault in destiny
who should be the leader of the dynasty
the problem uncorrectable
for vengeance we'll settle
you're just like any other idiot savant
so much less than what we really want
you are nothing in comparison
have you escaped the guilt
we haven't escaped the pain
no matter how long you escape us
you'll never escape me
do you know his name
did you care to look at his face
eyes bright as the sun
they're put out by another fire
insignificant in comparison
what was the point
it was all for nothing
two losses with one bullet
ours put out by yours
insignificant in comparison
do you remember what it was for
do you know her name
the lost cause you had to find
she put out for the other
(you're) insignificant in comparison
you are the demon from the pit
what grows in the darkest corners
what leaves its mark forever
hoping for the sun to shine through
you eliminate what you think is the source of your pain
the light came down on him though
do you stay under your cloud and feel the cold of the rain?
we do
who would be lost to fault in destiny
who should be the leader of the dynasty
the problem uncorrectable
for vengeance we'll settle
you're just like any other idiot savant
so much less than what we really want
you are nothing in comparison
Sunday, March 14, 2004
The Day I Met the Devil
It was a long time ago. On a hot day if my memory serves me at all correctly. Actually, it wasn't a long time ago. Just back in eighth grade, or was it seventh? Either way, I was worn out from track practice and I was tired. On top of that, my mom wasn't going to pick me up so she expected me to walk to my dad's office. Now, I walk to my dad's office everyday from Cathedral and my dad's office is really close to St. Clement's, but back then it was way over by Piedras and that's double the distance it is now. Not to mention, I was just a weak little eighth, or seventh, grader back then, not like my robust bod of these days. How could I possibly make the journey in the blistering cold/heat? Instead, I opted for a quick ride from my great friend Andrew Hu and his even cooler mom. His mom barely speaks English so she got completely lost, so I just had her drop me off in front of this business-looking building. It was only eight or so blocks from my dad's so I figured I could walk it. I get out and see that there's a big "For Lease" sign on the front of the building and look back at them to see if they're mean enough to stare at me like the idiot I am for getting out at an abandoned building, but neither of them are even looking at me. So I get out and walk up to the building even though and they drive away before I'm past the sidewalk. So I start my long journey. This is a dangerous time to walk the city streets for Cordova kids are walking everywhere and I'm in my OFFICIAL St. Clement's P.E. uniform, therefore I'm susceptible to ass rapings or whatever the hell it is those crazy public schoolers do to the tame privates.(HA!) I've never met a public schooler outside of a caged environment so I couldn't say. As I walk, I decide to change into my school uniform because from what I learned in music videos that's kind of what thugs wear. I run into an alley and hide behind a dumpster so the public schoolers can't see me naked, unless of course they're girls. But those girls might be rabid(which I confirmed later on in life). Who cares? There's a cure for rabies. So I change(hiding to be safe) and start trying to walk like a pimp, which has always come naturally to me for some reason. I manage to only run into one girl while walking. I'm more than sure that, if I looked back at her, she would be checking out my ass. I would have said something, but it looked like she spoke Spanish and that's always been strange for me in some strange way. So I keep walking and am crossing a street when a man behind me whistles and I turn to see who it is. It is some guy who looks strangely like this guy I know named the devil. As I give him this weird look trying to figure out who he is, I hear a car's brakes squeal behind me. I try to forget the devil and look at this lady who looks like she cares more about me getting out of her way than whether I'm hurt or not. So I keep walking and have my faith reinforced stronger than ever, especially in that faith-breaking time(whenever that time was). You ask how? Well, God is the Midas man. Thank God!
It was a long time ago. On a hot day if my memory serves me at all correctly. Actually, it wasn't a long time ago. Just back in eighth grade, or was it seventh? Either way, I was worn out from track practice and I was tired. On top of that, my mom wasn't going to pick me up so she expected me to walk to my dad's office. Now, I walk to my dad's office everyday from Cathedral and my dad's office is really close to St. Clement's, but back then it was way over by Piedras and that's double the distance it is now. Not to mention, I was just a weak little eighth, or seventh, grader back then, not like my robust bod of these days. How could I possibly make the journey in the blistering cold/heat? Instead, I opted for a quick ride from my great friend Andrew Hu and his even cooler mom. His mom barely speaks English so she got completely lost, so I just had her drop me off in front of this business-looking building. It was only eight or so blocks from my dad's so I figured I could walk it. I get out and see that there's a big "For Lease" sign on the front of the building and look back at them to see if they're mean enough to stare at me like the idiot I am for getting out at an abandoned building, but neither of them are even looking at me. So I get out and walk up to the building even though and they drive away before I'm past the sidewalk. So I start my long journey. This is a dangerous time to walk the city streets for Cordova kids are walking everywhere and I'm in my OFFICIAL St. Clement's P.E. uniform, therefore I'm susceptible to ass rapings or whatever the hell it is those crazy public schoolers do to the tame privates.(HA!) I've never met a public schooler outside of a caged environment so I couldn't say. As I walk, I decide to change into my school uniform because from what I learned in music videos that's kind of what thugs wear. I run into an alley and hide behind a dumpster so the public schoolers can't see me naked, unless of course they're girls. But those girls might be rabid(which I confirmed later on in life). Who cares? There's a cure for rabies. So I change(hiding to be safe) and start trying to walk like a pimp, which has always come naturally to me for some reason. I manage to only run into one girl while walking. I'm more than sure that, if I looked back at her, she would be checking out my ass. I would have said something, but it looked like she spoke Spanish and that's always been strange for me in some strange way. So I keep walking and am crossing a street when a man behind me whistles and I turn to see who it is. It is some guy who looks strangely like this guy I know named the devil. As I give him this weird look trying to figure out who he is, I hear a car's brakes squeal behind me. I try to forget the devil and look at this lady who looks like she cares more about me getting out of her way than whether I'm hurt or not. So I keep walking and have my faith reinforced stronger than ever, especially in that faith-breaking time(whenever that time was). You ask how? Well, God is the Midas man. Thank God!
Saturday, March 13, 2004
From : Spork Magazine
Sent : Saturday, March 6, 2004 12:13 PM
To : "robbie rayas"
Subject : Thank You
Thank you for the opportunity to consider your work. Unfortunately, we are unable to use it at this time. Best of luck placing it elsewhere.
--the eds.
What a bunch of fucking bastards. I hate this shit. Of course that was the shit Cleaning House and what do you expect, but still fucking Threepenny Review rejected the story everyone loved supposedly. Just as impersonal as these fucks. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. I might as well go to college and do something with my life if I can't write. This kind of shit makes me want to shave my head. Maybe I'll just take a shower instead.
Sent : Saturday, March 6, 2004 12:13 PM
To : "robbie rayas"
Subject : Thank You
Thank you for the opportunity to consider your work. Unfortunately, we are unable to use it at this time. Best of luck placing it elsewhere.
--the eds.
What a bunch of fucking bastards. I hate this shit. Of course that was the shit Cleaning House and what do you expect, but still fucking Threepenny Review rejected the story everyone loved supposedly. Just as impersonal as these fucks. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. I might as well go to college and do something with my life if I can't write. This kind of shit makes me want to shave my head. Maybe I'll just take a shower instead.
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
Brain Cand-e
I was about to start working one day
Just enjoying a drink before it started
A scotch to be exact(of the butter variety)
When a thing bothered
Wanting a sip of my drink
When he was obviously stuffed
Beyond that if i might say
That is when he bluffed
He said he could identify my refreshment
Said he has a nose that could smell brimstone in hell
Massive olfactory? MY FOOT!
I drank a liquor was all he could tell
Said it was exactly a fuzzy navel
That is when a knife appeared in my hand
I couldn't stop its movements and soon
His gut fed the hungry and he was the land
I was about to start working one day
Just enjoying a drink before it started
A scotch to be exact(of the butter variety)
When a thing bothered
Wanting a sip of my drink
When he was obviously stuffed
Beyond that if i might say
That is when he bluffed
He said he could identify my refreshment
Said he has a nose that could smell brimstone in hell
Massive olfactory? MY FOOT!
I drank a liquor was all he could tell
Said it was exactly a fuzzy navel
That is when a knife appeared in my hand
I couldn't stop its movements and soon
His gut fed the hungry and he was the land
Friday, March 05, 2004
"My only solace is that one day judgment will come for the wicked"
A long time ago in a galaxy far far away, there was a boy. He had gone to Furrs(the restaurant, not the store) with a lovely princess. They were having quite a nice meal, but they didn't know what waited ahead of them. After a delicious repast, the waitress came to usher their plates off to certain death by steam. Unfortunately, the waitress didn't have the balance she usually had and a knife dropped off the plate and the knife hit the princess. It was a butterknife, but no less. She had to do it to this person of all people. On this day of all days. To this princess of all princesses. For this was the Princess of Genovia and she was never to be taken lightly. But eating with the stud she was eating with, she was willing to let it go. The waitress still apologized and apologized while she was trying to put things back in order. Unfortunately(again) while she was bending over to pick up the knife, she bumped the table and knocked over the princess' drink and it spilled all over the princess' lovely gown. This was the last straw. No matter how handsome the man that was with her was, she could not tolerate an insult like this. Her gown was just ruined. It was made of pure gold. Now there would be a big rust stain everytime she put it on. She ordered the waitress to the dungeon. Unfortunately(yet again), the dungeon wasn't completely dug yet, so instead she told the stud to kill her with a real(,) sharp knife. Unfortunately(last time), the blacksmith had been dead for years(a spark flying in the queen's hair incident a longer time ago), so there were no real(,) sharp knives for miles. Instead, the stud had to spoon her face off. And the pair had quite a wonderful dessert to compliment a delicious meal.
A long time ago in a galaxy far far away, there was a boy. He had gone to Furrs(the restaurant, not the store) with a lovely princess. They were having quite a nice meal, but they didn't know what waited ahead of them. After a delicious repast, the waitress came to usher their plates off to certain death by steam. Unfortunately, the waitress didn't have the balance she usually had and a knife dropped off the plate and the knife hit the princess. It was a butterknife, but no less. She had to do it to this person of all people. On this day of all days. To this princess of all princesses. For this was the Princess of Genovia and she was never to be taken lightly. But eating with the stud she was eating with, she was willing to let it go. The waitress still apologized and apologized while she was trying to put things back in order. Unfortunately(again) while she was bending over to pick up the knife, she bumped the table and knocked over the princess' drink and it spilled all over the princess' lovely gown. This was the last straw. No matter how handsome the man that was with her was, she could not tolerate an insult like this. Her gown was just ruined. It was made of pure gold. Now there would be a big rust stain everytime she put it on. She ordered the waitress to the dungeon. Unfortunately(yet again), the dungeon wasn't completely dug yet, so instead she told the stud to kill her with a real(,) sharp knife. Unfortunately(last time), the blacksmith had been dead for years(a spark flying in the queen's hair incident a longer time ago), so there were no real(,) sharp knives for miles. Instead, the stud had to spoon her face off. And the pair had quite a wonderful dessert to compliment a delicious meal.
Thursday, March 04, 2004
Drained
Watching all the life
Go down the drains
Forced into the pipes
Still ready to do good
Useo
Must be nice to never care
And take it in stride
An uprising you wouldn't dare
So all feelings must hide
Another challenge under the belt
Another notch on the wall
Another helmet drawn on the wing
Another skull on the stake
Another day will be my time
Some other time I'll watch you burn
Eventually I will win
Start your fire and smell your flesh
Watching all the life
Go down the drains
Forced into the pipes
Still ready to do good
Useo
Must be nice to never care
And take it in stride
An uprising you wouldn't dare
So all feelings must hide
Another challenge under the belt
Another notch on the wall
Another helmet drawn on the wing
Another skull on the stake
Another day will be my time
Some other time I'll watch you burn
Eventually I will win
Start your fire and smell your flesh
Sometimes: Excerpts from the Mind of a Madman
Sometimes life is stranger than life, if you catch my drift. First life meant bad things. Second meant people I know and Twilight Zone/Outer Limits things that happen. Everything seems to have gotten better and, when I can see heaven on the horizon, my feet are cut off. I can't get my license for two more weeks. Plus, fucking Joe doesn't want to, or supposedly can't, sell his car so I'm wheel-less. Then, I see this car for the same that Joe was going to sell it to me for a couple blocks from my dad's office and tell my mom about it. She says that you can't trust buying cars from people you don't know, "especially in this neighborhood." What the hell is that supposed to mean? My dad's family grew up in this neighborhood and a good share still lives here. Fucking racist pig.
With Lent rolling around, I decided to give up sodas again, but just to make it interesting I threw in ice cream. After doing this though, I realized I pretty much cut my diet in half. Now, without all that beautiful caffeine, my exhausting 17-hour day just got even more exhausting. And to think that before I had actually given up these things I actually thought about going hippie and using as little man-made foods as possible. Well, after this ordeal, bring on the hamburger helper!(Look. An exclamation point. Is it lost on my little "site"?)
Then, I discovered one of the most perfect bands the other day. Well, not really the other day because I had heard them when they first came out a few months ago(I still remember the commercial on the MTV), but I never really listened to them 'til maybe a week ago and aren't they orgasmic. Not only do they sing about all the violence that I am deemed as crazy for putting in all my "creative works," but they are also named after one of my favorite literary characters. That's right. It's Atreyu!(I always liked the way Artax sounded better, but whatever.)(Another exclamation point? I must be happy. Or something.) They are indeed "the shit." And they seem to have a pretty good following based on the hordes of people in their music video, so there must be an audience for me out there somewhere.
"Gutted like a pig, all you want is the world to bleed,
someone somewhere stole your desire
The pain akin to, being punched in the throat, and stabbed in the chest
You would rather bleed than be without her
Gone are the tender whispers dancing in your ears
Replaced with lackluster memories you cry, your screams play in your empty room
It's so hard to see when your eyes are rolling in the back of your head
It's even harder to speak when everything you say just comes out wrong
Your bed swallows you whole as the days bleed together, torment on the lips
Of a loved one, and if you try hard enough,
you can almost taste her, feel her pass and
Scream, OH GOD WHY ME"(The whole song's awesome. Let's drink some fucking blood, baby.
Sometimes life is stranger than life, if you catch my drift. First life meant bad things. Second meant people I know and Twilight Zone/Outer Limits things that happen. Everything seems to have gotten better and, when I can see heaven on the horizon, my feet are cut off. I can't get my license for two more weeks. Plus, fucking Joe doesn't want to, or supposedly can't, sell his car so I'm wheel-less. Then, I see this car for the same that Joe was going to sell it to me for a couple blocks from my dad's office and tell my mom about it. She says that you can't trust buying cars from people you don't know, "especially in this neighborhood." What the hell is that supposed to mean? My dad's family grew up in this neighborhood and a good share still lives here. Fucking racist pig.
With Lent rolling around, I decided to give up sodas again, but just to make it interesting I threw in ice cream. After doing this though, I realized I pretty much cut my diet in half. Now, without all that beautiful caffeine, my exhausting 17-hour day just got even more exhausting. And to think that before I had actually given up these things I actually thought about going hippie and using as little man-made foods as possible. Well, after this ordeal, bring on the hamburger helper!(Look. An exclamation point. Is it lost on my little "site"?)
Then, I discovered one of the most perfect bands the other day. Well, not really the other day because I had heard them when they first came out a few months ago(I still remember the commercial on the MTV), but I never really listened to them 'til maybe a week ago and aren't they orgasmic. Not only do they sing about all the violence that I am deemed as crazy for putting in all my "creative works," but they are also named after one of my favorite literary characters. That's right. It's Atreyu!(I always liked the way Artax sounded better, but whatever.)(Another exclamation point? I must be happy. Or something.) They are indeed "the shit." And they seem to have a pretty good following based on the hordes of people in their music video, so there must be an audience for me out there somewhere.
"Gutted like a pig, all you want is the world to bleed,
someone somewhere stole your desire
The pain akin to, being punched in the throat, and stabbed in the chest
You would rather bleed than be without her
Gone are the tender whispers dancing in your ears
Replaced with lackluster memories you cry, your screams play in your empty room
It's so hard to see when your eyes are rolling in the back of your head
It's even harder to speak when everything you say just comes out wrong
Your bed swallows you whole as the days bleed together, torment on the lips
Of a loved one, and if you try hard enough,
you can almost taste her, feel her pass and
Scream, OH GOD WHY ME"(The whole song's awesome. Let's drink some fucking blood, baby.
Monday, March 01, 2004
New Month
woohoo
I think, therefore I am. A very good statement indeed. Too bad it doesn't hold up all the time. Like how I don't know that other people are really thinking. What if this is the Truman Show and they are just actors without brains reciting line after line? Or are they robots even? I don't know that they think, therefore, due to lack of proof, everyone is a fake. And that is the truth.
Plus, even I only exist sometimes. Sometimes I don't think. Instead of waiting to make a decision or say the right thing, I jump at the first chance I see or wait for the first pause to say something. I do it all on instinct, use no sense, and it takes no brain cells at all. And that is the truth.
Then, whenever I do think, it's about how much I fucked up those things. How much I wish I could go back. What I would need to do to build the flux capacitor. And even those thoughts are more senseless than the ones before. It's a vicious cycle. And that is the truth.
I always think about how I could have thought to trust someone.(Oh. That's right. They said trust them.) Think about how the world's a lie. How everyone tries to screw everyone. It's about profit and gain. All the material and not a drop of the stuff that matters. This is why I like to think that I am a real human. These thoughts justify my existence.
woohoo
I think, therefore I am. A very good statement indeed. Too bad it doesn't hold up all the time. Like how I don't know that other people are really thinking. What if this is the Truman Show and they are just actors without brains reciting line after line? Or are they robots even? I don't know that they think, therefore, due to lack of proof, everyone is a fake. And that is the truth.
Plus, even I only exist sometimes. Sometimes I don't think. Instead of waiting to make a decision or say the right thing, I jump at the first chance I see or wait for the first pause to say something. I do it all on instinct, use no sense, and it takes no brain cells at all. And that is the truth.
Then, whenever I do think, it's about how much I fucked up those things. How much I wish I could go back. What I would need to do to build the flux capacitor. And even those thoughts are more senseless than the ones before. It's a vicious cycle. And that is the truth.
I always think about how I could have thought to trust someone.(Oh. That's right. They said trust them.) Think about how the world's a lie. How everyone tries to screw everyone. It's about profit and gain. All the material and not a drop of the stuff that matters. This is why I like to think that I am a real human. These thoughts justify my existence.
