Full of Matrix

            I always thought that dreams were just illusions and never really meant anything other than just a weird trip that we experienced in our brain. I never realized that instances of déjà-vu and feeling as if you had already done something before came from dreams. I tend to day dream a lot, I’m always constantly thinking in my head and rarely pay attention. I know that even though we don’t remember having a dream we actually do dream at every night. Our brains keep constantly working even while we are still asleep. Just because you can’t recall a dream doesn’t mean that you didn’t have one.

            Which is why I was talking about having déjà-vu, I tend to get déjà-vu a lot and hate it because I know I’ve been in a certain situation before and I try to defuse it by doing something different. I remember one dream in particular, I was going through a maze and was trying to find my way out, its actually funny because I fell asleep watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. In the movie the main characters also have to go through a maze to get to the goblet of fire and are being attacked by the maze itself. In my dream I made it out to the end of the maze and got out, but I was greeted by huge stone face. He started telling me that I had to solve this impossible puzzle box and that the last person who tried it died before he could finish it because there are 100 different puzzles in the box, and it gets harder and harder the further you get to number 100.

            I remember only a couple of levels as I kept trying to solve all the 100 puzzles, it was getting to the point where math was involved. There were instances where I couldn’t concentrate and I began to sit try to figure it out. I thought I was never going to solve this gigantic puzzle, until a note came out of the sky. It told me all the answers and let me pass easily. The only puzzle it didn’t have for some reason was number 86 which had to deal with me talking to someone on the other side of the puzzle. At first I thought that all I had to do was just talk to the old man and he would eventually get tired of me chatting it up with him. After some time had passed by, I noticed that he wasn’t going to give up the final puzzle.

            I then figured out that he wasn’t there to give me the answer, but that he was the answer to the puzzle. I grabbed the old man and pulled him outside of the puzzle, he was frail and old and looked as if he had been there forever. When I dragged him out of the puzzle he just disintegrated in my hand. I was at a loss for words and so from his ashes another note that said I was free to leave. I began walking but then I had woken up and didn’t see what was going on afterwards. Two days later I was with my girlfriend and we were sitting down watching television when she told me she had a surprise for me. I waited to see what the surprise was and she pulled this rubix cube. I saw a connection to it but didn’t know where I had seen the object before.

            While I was holding and lookin at it I remembered that this was one of the puzzle’s in my dream, instead of colors though the cube had numbers to it. The next thing I noticed was her sweater, for some reason it had the number 86 on it, it was her track sweater. To this day I still don’t understand what it all meant but I’m still at a loss for words by the whole situation. I told my girlfriend about it and she just laughed at me. I still haven’t found a note or some ashes so I’m just assuming its coincidence. But I believe that dreams usually tell us something, that they can tell us if something is wrong or if something is going to happen in the future. We can’t ever be sure what dreams mean, but after that weird dream. I feel like I’m in the movie The Matrix, as if my body is asleep somewhere and you don’t know if you are still asleep or awake. We live in dreams and so we are weak to its beautiful persuasion and mystery. 

"I have had dreams and I have had nightmares, but I have conquered my nightmares because of my dreams." - Jonas Salk

Its All In Your Head

One of the most objective times I have ever endured with another person was when I helped this random person on my way home from BART. I was walking and a blind stranger was trying to find his way to a certain bus stop and was a ways away from the BART station. I was on my way home, and was almost about to reach my house in about 5-6 minutes. While I was crossing the street I noticed a blind man crossing the same street and asked if he needed some help. I was well aware that I was almost home and was already dragging my feet as I was nearing my destination.

But something had compelled me to help this poor man who had probably been lost for awhile as he was trying to desperately find the BART station. I felt so bad that I actually walked along side him guiding him by voice all the way back to BART. It took me 25-30 minutes to get back there. By now means was I complaining as I was actually having a very thoughtful and funny conversation with the blind man. But I just couldn’t help but feel my spirits lifted as I kept talking to the blind man. The day had dragged on for me as I went from BART to SF State and then back to Hayward.

I understood that I was being selfish and thoughtful towards this man who didn’t have any clue where he was. Looking back at this experience I realize that it actually wasn’t him who was blinded but it was actually I who was blinded by all the beauty surrounding me. I mean, there is this blind man who doesn’t even know which way is north or south and he was joking with me and telling me stories of who he was and what he use to do. He was a real old timer, he knew what he wanted out of life, and there I was, youthful as could be but I didn’t know which direction my life was going.

I still don’t know what direction my life is heading towards, I have a million different ideas in my head and I want to do so much but I know there isn’t enough time to do everything. I wouldn’t mind relaxing either, this blind man made me realize that we never stop to look at the sights and the sounds of the world. All we do is just pass by and never look around to enjoy every little moment that life has to offer us. I was very humbled to be in his presence, because I never met a person who had almost everything taken away from them and still be able to enjoy his life and make every second count. I mean he was telling me about when radios were the big thing back in his time and how it was the greatest invention.

Now our life is more Television and Internet, we don’t interact much with real people anymore. It’s a digital age; we are getting lazier and more advanced as the years go by. We have gotten so far away from human contact that we don’t go visit our grandmas or family members we just either Facebook them or text them. If they don’t have either, then we just don’t bother contacting them because driving to them or even speaking on the phone feels like a savage act. We need to appreciate and practice being humble towards one another, recognize that we advancing but never forgetting to stop and look around. Because you never know what might be the last thing you ever see with your own eyes. 

The Final March

Before everyone starts to comment on my blog about how disturbing my choice of music is I would first like to say that we are all entitled to listen to whatever we want. I understand that the artist known as Marilyn Manson may not be a popular choice but I do love his work and I am a fan of his music. Sure I don’t look like the typical follower with the all black wearing Gothic theme that most of his followers resemble or the punk rock scene. I am a simple white t-shirt wearing, clean cut haired, and matching shoes with shirt walking ensemble. Not many people realize that I am a huge movie and music lover. Most people are shocked that I listen to such music, but it is the rhythm and lyrics that I love about Marilyn Manson’s music.

His choice of words maybe a little sadistic and odd at times and he can be very anti-religion and what not but this isn’t about the views. It’s about how the music speaks to me and how it makes my heart race and my blood go from normal to insane in the three minutes of music he delivers to my ears. It was a hard choice to pick a worth song from his list of great albums but I decided on “This is the New S**t” from the Golden Age of Grotesque album. The song reminds me of a revolutionary war song, as if the song could be an anthem for a teenage outcry. It represents the oppression that I feel at home, that I am to be like a soldier and follow orders all day and never question my commanding officers (my parents).

The song starts off in this very hush type of beat and slowly starts to build up strength, as the song keeps on going it reaches this angry battle-cry. It has you marching to the beat; makes you want to stand up for yourself and defend yourself. I still live with my parents and they are old school tough Latino parents. Its their rules that govern what goes on in the house, we as the children of the house are not allowed to question their authority. The children of the house do break the rules once in a while because we are a rebellious bunch. We want to live and get away from the rules that are being enforced. The song can represent the struggle to be yourself, to get away from the stranglehold of demanding rules that seem ludicrous.

This song always pumps me up, especially when I am on my way to training for Mixed Martial Arts. This is one of the ways I rebel in my house; I was always the wimpy chubby kid in the class room. I use to also be the “Emo” chubby kid for a while, always getting picked on and harassed for being chubby. This may read like a teen movie but it’s all true, we all get picked on no matter what. I’ve lost some weight through Wrestling and MMA, and have seen that I am a great athlete. My parents never liked these “violent” sports and they always forbid me to partake in these activities. This song reminds me of my final stand against them, telling them that I love the brutal Muay-Thai Kickboxing, the explosive Greco-Roman Wrestling, and the gentle submissions of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.

When I hear this song I can feel the beat of my heart race and go even faster, running out of breath like I’m gasping for air. My body may hurt during training but the song keeps me motivated to keep going, keep reaching that goal of being the best. Even if my family doesn’t support what I love to do I march on just like the song. Going fast and stronger, it symbolizes the freedom of expression even threw the harshest of challenges. “Don’t Forget the Violence”, it reads as if it’s coming straight out of my mouth because if I get bloodied in training. I just pick myself up and continue like the insane beat the song produces. 

 

No One Else Inspires Me More When I'm Training Like Wanderlei Silva

Salt all up on you!

I feel as if the song goes from being slow and low to higher and more up beat, it takes off like a rocket and makes your head bob along to the beat. The little dialogue that comes from the song is inspirational and makes me feel inspired, but one of the dialogues that interested me was “and I would like to be able to continue to let what is inside of me, which is from all the music that I hear, I would like all of it to come out.” This quote describes me, I am a plethora of endless music, I love music and I am constantly always listening to it, even if it’s for a brief period of time. I cannot stand not having music for a single day. And when music comes out of my phone, u know its describing the mood I’m in or its helping me heal from something that happened that same day.

Music comes out and touches people; it reaches out to me in every way possible and it can take over my day. When I’m feeling sad it comes out sad and rough around the edges, something like My Chemical Romance and Circa Survive lift up my spirits the best. While if I’m feeling wild and a little crazy I want to listen to something with a little bit of flow. Some hip-hop is what the doctor ordered and some gangster rap comes along with it. The quote sums up how we all engage music, that music can change the layout of our day, whether it be sad or hyperactive. Music makes us whole and without it we can’t really express ourselves with just mere words.

Back To The Caves We Go

Groundhogs day pretty much summed up my whole life in a nutshell, were I thought I was trapped in a maze of endless back and forth battles with myself. In my Cave blog I talked about how I had finally looked at myself in the mirror and saw that my character was being judged and I didn’t want to be this childish person that I was once was. Phil had to take a step back himself and look at himself and see what was wrong with his life and how he could make it better. How he could stop distancing himself from the rest of the outside world and become part of it. Just like we had discussed in class he had become an outcast to normal society and has thus made himself a brick wall so that no one could penetrate his defenses.

Groundhog Day turned out to be his look in the mirror just like I had to look in the mirror when I finally began to put childish things away. He had to become comfortable with the people around him, he pulled down his defenses and finally took a step forward in the end when he finally reached that enlightened state of being at peace with everyone. It may have taken him forever to realize it, but just like myself. I didn’t want to change until a certain scenario presented itself and it was that “life defining” moment that everyone talks about. This pretty much ends up back to the Cave and how the turning of the page was when the prisoner was let go and saw the light and saw all the wondrous things that were out there. It was the enlightenment that both Phil and I had, my looking in the mirror and Phil reliving Groundhog Day to have him change everything and become open to society.

Hold The (S) Because I am an Aint

            This just so happens to be my truth, I can remember when the warm loving embrace touched my lips, when the smell of cotton candy was always present in my room. When I heard laughter in my bed, when I heard sorrow in it as well. I thought this relationship with my ex-girlfriend could no longer be about us being ex-lovers but about us beginning a new life as friends. Because I had a girlfriend and my ex was no longer mine either. She had her own boyfriend, at first the truth was that we still loved each other and I would always hold on to her such as she would hold on to me. for a while we wouldn’t cross the lines and remained as friends.

            But just like anybody will tell you, one can never be friends with old lovers, it is very difficult to do. After a while we began to be comfortable with each other again, she would come over my house in the mornings to have breakfast and to sleep in my bed so that we may wake up next to each other like old times. But the truth was that we never grew apart from each other, we kept old habits and didn’t realize we were hurting the others in our lives. We were in our own little Cave again, we pretended like nothing was going on when in fact we were still acting as if we were still together this whole time. Not wanting to spend any time with the other people we had acquired along the way, not caring about their feelings and how they would feel if they found out about us hanging around this way.

           

            One day I looked at my own shadow, I stared in the mirror for a long period of time, longer than I’ve ever looked at myself in years. I had realized that my worst fear was not only to lose that person but to throw away the countless memories we had acquired over the years. We were both stringing ourselves along, pretending that what we were doing was right, we were both using each other as puppets and we were each other’s puppeteers. until finally we had kissed in my bed, it felt natural, as if we had never left each other’s side. I had never done anything of this nature in all my years of living; I could not sleep the next 3 hours with her next to me with her head pressed up against my chest. My heart just raced and begged for me to either stay or leave her forever. Just remembering in my head how hard it was to leave her there alone in my bed because I felt so guilty for what I had done hurts me. I had to adjust my eyes to the truth because I was mislead by my own truth that what I was doing was ok. That me and her were just friends and didn’t have feelings for each other at the least.


            It took remembering what she had done to me to realize that this isn’t the person I wanted to be with, that she had done me harm first and I was still being sucked into her strings. That it wasn’t both of us being the puppet masters. She was the true master, because she had put those images of old back into my head and I being the romantic I am went right into her trap. Her new boyfriend was my old best friend, who she had previously done the same thing with while she was with me. It took that one kiss to remind me why I had left her and why we had broken up. I thought that my truth was her because we had been together all this time that it just felt natural. But when I finally opened my eyes to see the sun come up and shine in my face the truth. I had to let her go, she was hurting me and I was hurting someone else, it wasn’t fair. If I had kept to this path I would never been able to look at myself in the mirror, because I was fighting for a person that no longer belonged to me and I knew wasn’t good for me. It just had to end all over again or I my truth would forever be questioned. 

My Pants Use To Be On Fire

My life has always been about getting to the truth, every since I can remember when I was a little boy I was a compulsive liar. I never really understood how important it was to tell the truth and how it would affect my character. There have been countless times were I decided to be a liar and started fumbling around in my story I kept saying something different. I would say one story and then start to rewrite it multiple times until I was caught. This happened at my previous job when I use to work for GameCrazy on my first day. I forgot to count the money in the counter and we ended up being $100 under in the till. I had originally said that I did count it then I had said that I thought I counted it. Then I just finally told the truth that I didn’t count the money, I got written up and promised from that point forward to never lie again. I believe that was the day I really did grow up.

            This was probably the defining moment were I finally stopped creating all these lies and all these different illusions. I just stuck to the truth ever since and have been doing so, I had finally grown up and decided never to live my life as a liar. Especially if it is for work, I never want to be unprofessional and waste all the hard work I put into my job to be let go because I can’t be trusted. It’s not professional and I’m glad that my life turned around when my former boss at the time pulled me aside and told me that I shouldn’t be scared to tell the truth specially when it comes to any job. My mind no longer wonders around thinking of different excuses to say when I get caught in a lie. I do not anticipate a quick comeback for someone accusing me of something I did do but am fighting it with lies to cover up my faults. Now I just roll with the punches, I force myself to tell the truth. So that I may always feel at peace, so that I do not soil my honor and the honor of my family.