Things Left Undone

Facing death is one of the elemental human fears. There are those that have gone silently, without a good bye. Others have seen their soul slowly exit their bodies. The bravest have died for a cause that they believe in. It seems that the word death is a dirty word. For me, the word brings back painful memories. I think of loved ones that have gone to the other side. I think of all the horrors that have been committed in history. I have always imagined what it feels like to part with someone you love, or to join them in the next life. It is a fragile thing, and sometimes, we leave things unsaid and regret it forever. 

My fascination with death is not a random thing. Like many in this life, things were left unsaid. In this case it was my grandfather, who I never knew. Our lives overlapped, just long enough for him to live during the first three years of my life. I had heard about him, but he was always an enigma to me. At nights when I couldn't sleep, I would ponder his life; where he lived, what he was like, those kinds of things. 

Out of all the days of my life none is more vivid than when he passed away. He had died alone, in an old apartment in Seattle, probably still clinging to the fragments of happiness he had felt. It was morning and my mother answered to a phone call. In just a few sentences, she was distraught. That was the mark of death; the anxiety, the mystery. It was all compressed into one moment. We traveled to Seattle to impart our last act of love. We held his funeral. Words that slip my mind were said, but I remember the atmosphere. It was bare of all but a coolness in the family and things were left undone. 

Nobody knows exactly what we encounter on the next side, but to go there with years of suppressed emotions is what would be my personal hell. I hope to someday know what he felt, and yet to experience loneliness in the last moments here on Earth would be torture. All these things taken into account, I don't fear death. It is only the beginning.

The Beat

I found the curiosity of group drumming. Let's back up to last Saturday, before Mother's day. I was shopping around for some type of gift. Maybe something that would be good enough. I discovered this festival, the Green Living festival. Upon walking into the festival I noticed a drumming circle. I gingerly stopped the conversation I was having and entered onto this bus. Around me, I saw every type of drum that you could think of. Ethnically, they were African but the origin does not matter when you are enjoying yourself. The leader was a socialite. He immediately greeted me and handed me a drum. I was the intruder in the circle, so I let myself adapt to the rhythm. Little by little, my hands began to sync with the beat. Soon, the thunder of the drum was all that was audible. It was my first time ever touching a drum, although I am an avid guitar player. After my moment on the bus, I exited reluctantly to enjoy the other oddities of the festival. I discovered other cultures and lifestyles, but nothing was as exhilarating as the drum circle.

Beneath the dust

I found my forte, my special place. I discovered chalk art and have fallen in love. It happened when I came across a set of pastels buried somewhere in the mess that is my room. I was searching for my favorite pen, while coincidently doing some homework. I think the attention disorder that I tell myself I have so I feel good kicked in. Whatever I might have been doing was lost. It was one of those points where there is that song that we all have comes into your mind. It drowns out all the doubt and anything else. Anyway, I took my pastels, all perfect from never being used and left to a quiet spot. I found the kitchen. With that song in my head I gingerly removed the shiny wrapper, which I might have played with for five minutes. With the chalk scraping the paper, my hand let itself go to work. In minutes I had something going; a good start. But it needed more. It needed that unique attribute. With discouragement at hand, I was ready to just quit. But the universe had something else on the table. As I was turning toward the window that faced me, this light surged through the thick tint. It blotted out every dark cloud and every plant on the outside world. My inspiration was a moment of luck, perhaps some fortunate karma. I added a twist to my painting, and it was light that complimented the dusty medium. Since my first my moment, I have oft dabbled in the chalk. It might be that it has won the special place as my favorite, or that I love to make a mess. Either of these reasons may have equipped me with the desire to engulf my world in art. Whatever purpose it serves I have found the wonder of self expression and individuality. I have found something else to add to who I am.

Lighten Up

Romance is a demon, equipped with everything but a remedy. It can be slathered with feelings that are gooey and yucky. I sound like a pre-adolescent boy, but that is the honest to gosh truth. Dating wasn't meant to be forever. Sometimes hormonal teens think that. For those that are of dating age, dating is intended to be fun. That's why you go to the movies or something that everyone actually enjoys. Dating many people is the key and friends are better than crushes. Actually going out on a date is as rare as a democrat in the state of Utah. Kids think that hanging out at a place while that "special someone" happens to be there is a date. It isn't and never will be.

A relationship is like killing all fun that you would have had. While confined to a relationship, you can't even look at another attractive person without hearing about it. It is worse when you want to hang out and you can't because another girl that your girlfriend hates is going to be there. But hey, if a relationship makes you happy go ahead. Just remember that you are kissing somebody else's future spouse. For me personally, it is the equivalent of selling your soul. 

I despise when someone asks another person out by a text. It's like they don't want to talk to them. It's ridiculous. That's what our society has come to, and that's another disadvantage of the cell phone. The worst is using any social network. Facebook dates do not count in my book and shouldn't be legit in anyone else's. I can't see why those people don't walk up to the person and calmly plead their case. Idiots these days.

Another pitiful dream is the pursuit of the life-long crush. If you have known them for that long and haven't done anything yet, then you are SOL (that doesn't refer to sun in spanish he he). In the case of having those crushes it is way easier to just make the move. Nobody ever progressed by standing by and watching.

One other thing that is the downfall and killshot of any romance is complication. If a girl likes me, but is in a relationship and also likes someone else, I'm going elsewhere. That would save lots of time and feelings. I've only encountered that a few times. I speak from experience that it was not a walk in the park. That is what romance is for I suppose; to learn what not to do.

Probably the most awful part of any high school experience is the part where you see PDA. I want to wretch when I see couples exchanging saliva. It reminds of those alien movies. I just feel bad for them. If they have to prove that they like each other, then it is not worth it. Even more shameful is that teachers will never stop them. Just today I tried not to watch as a two people were snogging right by the window. GROSS!

Anyway, my point is that adolescents take romance too seriously. It is meant to be a time when you actually live and be a teen. I don't mean that teenagers should have TOO much fun, but enough to say they had a life.

Life As We Knew It

I've decided that my blog before was too stodgy, too serious to reflect the fun natured person that I am. I do love to enjoy that funny joke that nobody else understands. During church services, I do make fun of speakers. So I've come to the decision, why not be me? We spend our lives living up to all these expectations that nobody else really expects of us. To be honest, the expectations we have are non-existent.  Back to my blog, If you got tired of reading my stuff, I do not apologize. I don't apologize for you having your own opinion because that's your job.
So while I was off thinking about how to make this me, I thought of so many funny things that happen I just had to mention them. The first is that people who take me seriously must hate me because I LOVE to tease. On the other end when somebody jokes to me, I cannot stand it. For a non-serious guy, I am pretty sensitive. But I acknowledge that. Why can't we just laugh at ourselves or tease every once in a while? This society is too sensitive to any joking or pranking. Being the one to pour the foam into the school pool should be a joke. But here, our strict rigidity to any rule doesn't allow good fun or any joking.
Another thing is awkwardness. What warrants an awkward moment? I've had so many myself that they can't even be counted. The worst situation is on a date (which I just started doing) when you are trying to make a joke but it turns out nobody understands. Seriously, out of all the looks in the world, the worst is the creeped out face. When I see that, I know not to expect any more dates. Being awkward is partially their fault. The other person doesn't have to make it so uncomfortable. They could at least laugh or pretend (which is always appreciated).
I think out of all the things that could make you laugh so hard you just you-knew-what your pants, the worst is the body. The body is such a weird thing. So many unexplainable things happen it is a joke itself. When people talk about their bodies and that this ear is oozing this type of puss, I don't think that because I'm disgusting, but rather that I don't care or want to know that. I've been in several situations where somebody tries to tell me about something that happened to them and I have been unlucky enough to hear. A knee slapper is when a doctor tries to talk about your body non-chalantly if something is wrong. For instance if you have some embarrassing malady and the doctor tries to ask matter of fact of questions, it ends up being funny. I know several people who talk about their bodies, even while I am eating. The thing I was eating now tastes like what ever the heck it is you just said.
No lie, the things we do in this life are sprinkled with humor and other things. Being ourselves only adds to the much needed comedy that alleviates us of stress.