.a cold night.

last night was the first cold night i've experienced since march.

the holidays are approaching... fast.

as i stared into the night sky, i thought about a lot things... mainly how i've put everything with vy aside for the sake of moving on. i thought about how my cousin put aside her relationship, for the sake of being free... remembering what it was like to live, not for someone else's happiness, but for her own. just before my birthday, vy and i got into an arguement. it turned into a total mess and i did not need to hear it. instead of understanding, she tried to force a situation... and that was my last straw. over five years, i took many actions that i would not have done alone. i've had enough of my submissive nature.

that was two weeks ago. i haven't talked to her since. i dobbled over another cigarettes, enjoying the freshness of a cool breeze clipping my lack of hair.

even to now, she couldn't accept me... only putting me down in hopes that i can change. she refused to see the bigger picture of why i cannot change things right now. the daily pressure to become something great. being the only bright spot in a broken home. i didn't need an opinion in my life, i needed a friend.

i walked back inside the house, wishing that i could sit on the patio that doesn't exist anymore and enjoy the night.

how could i truly open to someone that would criticize me? does she want me to be happy or mold me into something else? all i have left is to finish school and establish the life i want to live... for me.

i love fall and winter. i wish it would last.

.to be.

i've wanted to be a lot of things in my life: a firefighter, an astronaut, a musician, an engineer, a dinosaur, a ninja turtle, superman. but in the past few years i've turned my imagination to writing. while in grade school, i learned the somewhat useless science of english... nouns, subjects, predicates, verb tense, proper english. however my revelation came to me in the form of mr. white. the lessons i recieved from the aging harvard grad at valencia were monumentous to my outlook on writing.

"language is what you make it"
"if you can't find a word that fits, make it up"
"paint and portray"

the critisism that came after i passed his class, with an "A" no less(the only "A" i've ever recieved in any english class), was to be expected. i can write bland emotionless garbage any day of the week, but what makes an essay is opinion and style. every paper i've written since has had a "B" or less, regardless of the subject matter. though with poor markings, my proses were enjoyed, and that means more to me than any grade i could recieve.

recently, i recieved an "F" on the transmitter i constructed in lab, "F" for faulty, due to a wiring job equivalent to that of a man with no apendages could have achieved. after which, i began reconsidering my current position as an engineering student. i muled over my talents, or lack there of. and the only real praise i've received of late is on my writing(my music, also, but that seems to be more out of pity than appreciation... dammit).

so here i am, vexed and unsupported with whichever choice i make, but free to choose and that's all i could ever ask for. in the mean time, i'm enjoying this.

.i saw you.

i always flip to the back of the folio weekly to the personal ads. it always cracks me up how some people describe themselves, though i admire the fact that they throw themselves to the wolves:

"petite, blond, 250lbs"
"energetic, 60 years young"
"i'll make you forget that i'm balding"

admist the desperate cries for affection, there's a section called "i saw you..."(no, joe, i am not looking at "men looking for men"); this is where people post little descriptions of people they have met briefly and would like to get to know that person, but have no idea how to find them. i, on the other hand, do not have the motivation balls to talk to this girl, so last month i submitted my "i saw you..." to their website.

The Usual

I come visit you at work every other day, the brownish-blond from Washington State behind the counter who wakes me up more frequently than the coffee i buy from you. I'm the asian and/or mexican guy with the ridiculous facial hair... which is probably why i'm putting this in Folio Weekly instead of talking to you. Maybe you'll pick this up in your store one day and read this, then maybe you can serve me more than coffee... like a pastry on the side for free. That would be awesome.

-Eric

they haven't printed me yet. bastards.

another reason, that i failed to mention why i did this, is because there are always hot white guys talking to her. they're like, day-time soaps hot. that's pretty intimidating, man. now, i'm not trying to put myself down... i just don't think i'm THAT cute. i'm like... winning gameshow contestant hot; not exactly eye-bulging, but good enough to be on TV.