It Sure Has Been Awhile...

It Sure Has Been Awhile...
Current mood: amused
Category: Blogging

Well, it has been awhile, hasn't it?

I guess it has been in the back of my mind, or rather neglected to egregious levels, but I don't think you've missed me all that much, and it's not like I didn't have good reasons for it.

Where to begin?

Well, I'm in the middle of semester 2 @ SEU, and the days are loaded with every possible form of work and intellectual thought imaginable. The weekends are taken up, so are the nights, and everything else in between. Sometimes I think, "what the hell did I get myself into?" and other times, I just take it because I should. It is good for me, after-all; at least I tell myself that during the weeks where I only get a few good hours of sleep.

My photography, though rarely seen by anyone else is coming along well, so is my other degree in communications; I'm getting my associates at the end of the semester, actually.

Um... I guess it's been a fairly quiet time since I've been gone, I just swear I've had so much work that I haven't had any time, and that just doesn't go for these online social networks, but for friends and family as well, which is sad. I have to consult my schedule to see when I'll be free to meet up for drinks or conversations, which makes me feel like an asshole. I forgot two friends' birthdays in March, which made me feel even worse. I just don't know why I overload myself - I've got 17 hours on my plate, plus an internship, a part-time job on campus, and then photography.

Right now is the tail-end of spring break for me, which was spent briefly in San Antonio, and surrounding areas, playing poker with my poker buddies, working out, and spending needed time relaxing. I had given myself the assignment of blogging in order to get into the swing of things, but understand that I've been writing all semester, which is fine, but when I get home, it's the last thing I want to do.

I made the dean's list last semester, which lead to a huge, and I mean HUGE amount of grants and scholarships being thrown my way, and that takes care of next semester. The final push has begun.

In other news, I've been trying to help some family get though some really hard times, which has been going on since late January, and that has been stressful, taken up large amounts of free time, and has made me worry. I've had little else to think about, really. Friends have accused me of ostracizing them, when in actuality, I've been thinking about them, but have been helpless to act on the thoughts. I feel bad, but I'll have time someday - I just don't know when.

Also, I'll be an uncle again in mid-October. No determination of the sex yet, but hopefully my nephew will have a little sister to look after, that way I won't have to be the one to beat up the boys trying to date her when she's older, Christian can take care of that easy.

I'm going to look into internships along the east coast for the summer. My brother is moving to Connecticut at the end of March, but it's only an hour and a half to NYC, so it's not all that bad. I still might stay here, but I don't know all the details.

Okay... a lot of details, much of them boring, but that's what you get for now. I will attempt to start up the blogging machine again, but who knows who's going to read it? In any case - I've missed you all dearly.

Until tomorrow...

The Drive Home: Day One/Part One

Day One/Part One:


The drive was familiar. The whole route was overcast with a slight drizzle, and the traffic was sparse for a Christmas Eve. While time has gone by, the buildings were still the same with each town that passed. Rust and decay had overtaken all the broken down pieces, and the glass that once covered the windows had been shattered. Each stop sign brought along a seldom-heard 100-person town, and I really wondered how one can even live in a place like that – in the middle of nowhere, kind of like a deserted island, but instead of ocean, it’s only hundreds of acres of farmland and trees.

I kind of enjoyed the ride. It was quiet along the road, but the music in my truck blasted me through the hundreds of miles that were before me. I had time to think about a lot of things; about my past and my future, about the people I cared about, about my life and where it’s going. Five and a half hours can give anyone ample time to think. The roads and trails just give me some sort of an extra level of inspiration; like I have had a love affair with it, but it’s one that is full of resentment and disappointment – almost like it’s always been a method of escape and nothing more.

Once I got close, I readied myself for the gateway leading towards the town. The Valley starts in this town called Raymondville, and descends south for 30 miles before hitting major civilizations and roadways. There are just enough run-down buildings and houses to give one a preview of what’s to come. For me, being gone for 3 ½ years was a good thing. Not because I didn’t see my family, but because for once I was independent of this place – it did not define me because it was not apart of my way of life anymore.

The thing is that the Valley has it’s own personality and ways of living. It becomes an entity in and of itself, and I think everyone can relate to that, wherever they come from. Every small town or community has it’s own type of atmosphere and persona. It can either be assimilated by the inhabitants, or rejected, and then those who do so become exiled.

Once I pass Raymondville, I enjoyed the pungent smell of sewage – shit. I find it oddly fitting, since that verb describes perfectly what I think of the place. I drove some more, and I expected to at least see something different for a change, but nothing came to me. I closed my eyes for a second, turned the radio off, and drove further. In my time away, I still recognized the sight of discontent. It was still fresh in my mind. How could I have forgotten, after all, this was why I left.

It was slowing down – the traffic, and the cars moved at a snails pace at times. The highway was the same, the buildings were the same – the only thing that changed was that some of those businesses that were once open were now closed; a sign of the times, and of the economy, not to mention the decrepit state of the area – a poorly planned, managed and developed mass of homes, businesses and school and public buildings. Surely not what I was used to, at least not now, living in Austin, and being in New York City and Boston just 5 months earlier.
It’s like a wave of depression washed over me. Part of me still loves this place for some masochistic reason. Maybe it’s because I gained my life-long friends from this place, or because it made me who I am regardless of my surroundings. Maybe it’s the disdain I have for it. Maybe it’s because it’s home to the people I love the most. I just don’t know. I do know that I hate seeing this place fall apart. One of the reasons I hate it is because it’s allowed to happen with no real concern. I’m befuddled.

All I Want Is You

I've found that there's been a constant slideshow in my mind, always seeming to pop up, and then I'm stuck in the same spot that I was in before; looking at you and nothing else. It pretty much pisses me off, but I've become severely indifferent towards it. Indifference leads to helplessness. Helplessness leads to avoidance. Avoidance leads no-where.

I love you more than I should. I should be so far away from you now, but instead I'm still waiting. It really isn't just, and I question the validity of being a better person because I know you. By now, I've gone through a few people. I wonder if I'll be one of those men that marries in my mid-thirties, becomes a sports-car driving, golf-playing, polo-wearing man that finds a young woman and takes it for what it is. Unsatisfied and miserable, finding solace in material possessions and meandering conversations about trivial matters. I thought there was substance to it all - that it really meant something to love someone unconditionally, but it might be bullshit. I've yet to really know.

I have these dreams of you that still keep on meeting me at night, and it's torture. I'm willing to call in to check on you, but what for? The whole point in me avoiding you was to find out if I still loved you as much as I thought. I still do, but I don't know where that gets me in your book. I've taught myself to walk away, but I still catch myself looking back at you. I'm jealous at every simpleton you look at. I curse hands that have already touched you. Either you have no idea, or don't want to care. I might pretend that I don't know, but it still bothers me. I don't want to hear about the guy you're dating, or the one before him that hurt you, or the one before that. I don't want to know so I won't. Not knowing is better for me this time around. You must now that it hurts me, yet you make it a point to make it a point. I don't understand. I'm not meant to be a buddy. I was more than that, and you threw me out. I can't switch.

You go on about how you want someone to love you for who you are, when you don't even know yourself. You go on about how you thought how you couldn't love me the same way I loved you, when you did love me the same way - I just think you needed an excuse. You keep running towards these hollow people who'll hurt and drop you in a moments notice; who'll keep kicking you down, and you'll keep on taking it just so you can feel needed, or to escape the troubles in your head. It makes me sick to think how much I've spilled out to you, only to have it thrown back in my face. I can't be there on a whim anymore. I can't be an on-call boyfriend or soul-mate when you're in the midst of trouble and can't talk to anyone else. It's not fair to me when I can't run to you for the same.

I've given up making up stories and excuses for why we can't be together. If I would keep on going, then I'd waste more time, more possible loves, more kisses, more words, more heart and soul, and everything that's good inside me. Eventually, the love I have for you will spill over to someone else, and then I'll spend it on someone who'll appreciate it for what it is: pure and real. Not a fuck, not a kiss, or just because I'm lonely, but because I enjoy them for who they are.

Maybe we're bound to hurt each other over and over, with no real end. Maybe we're only good at hurting each other, or loving each other without all the strings. I'm past blame, or spite, because I know you will be who you are, and I will be the same. It's too late to think about the "could've-been's," about the things you or I did, about the lies and the excuses. I fell short of offering myself completely to you because I thought it was futile. I didn't think it was worth all the trouble when you wouldn't be able to see what I was giving to you in the first place. I don't think you know or recognize what true love is. I don't believe that you're able to discern what being a true friend means. I think you have a bad habit of escaping your problems. I don't have the power to change you, nor do I want to, but these things destroy people, and I see them in you because I once had them within me.

Regardless, I love you. I've loved you for years now, and will continue to love you even through all the things I know about you. We're all imperfect, and the things that you have inside you are special. That's why I love you, because I know everything; all the habits and the likes/dislikes, and I still want you by my side. I still wish to hold you, talk to you, laugh with you... It becomes a monster eventually. It was easy to forget you when I had someone else right beside me. It's probably the same with you too.

In the end, whenever I meet someone else, get married, have kids, then grand-kids, then old, in bed, on my last breath, I'll think back to the time when I knew this girl who was the love of my life, and it'll be you. All I've ever wanted was a real second chance with you. I'll always continue to hope for it, but will do so with reservation and skepticism. I wish I could be more idealistic, but past circumstances have decided that. All I want is you. That's all I've ever wanted, past everything else in my life. I would do anything you said. I would give everything up for you.

That's just crazy, isn't it?

... I Think I'll Head Home

Well, I suppose this is the first one.

Not actually, but it is. Technically, it should be considered number 1,026 but that's on my other blog, so I suppose that doesn't count. Not to mention the fact that I will be doing concurrent blogs, but whatever - I've got some time on my hands as the Winter break has come upon us all down in Texas.

Hi.

I'm Isaac, and it's funny that with all my blog-y-ness from the past five years, I've neglected this place - a haven for bloggers extraordinaire. Where I started and where I've ended up is all well and good, but the present is the best. I've got a book of past writings that I can reflect on and grow from, and now is another chapter - I can only hope that I find as many friends and well-wishers here as I've found on my other blogging site.

My past is a mystery, ultimately until I choose to disclose it, until then... blogging!




So, next week, on Tuesday or early Wednesday, I'll be going back home. The first time in a long time, actually. What's funny is that I'm almost hesitent to do so. I don't know what it is that makes me so reluctant, but alas it has to happen. It's not that I don't love my family, but I have always despised my home-town. It makes me depressed and a little sad whenever I was around there, and now it's surreal just coming back.

We'll see, I guess.

In other news: I'm resting after a hectic and draining semester. The countdown has begun - it won't be long until I finally graduate.