Saturday, November 17, 2007
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Things I've learned...
So, next week will be my fourth week of class, which is basically a month. I've noticed quite a few things over these first few weeks. I will sound like I'm whining because, indeed, I am...
Things I've learned in my first month of (community) college-
I am much more conservative than I thought, since I have to deal with annoying hobos everyday and never think twice about not giving them any change and stuff like that...
Mass transit sucks. The buses stink like the hobos who ride it. I'm not saying that only hobos ride it, but yeah, some do. You can't even listen to your iPod without having to basically blast your ear drums out due to the excessive engine noise...
Don't ever sleep on the bus, because when you wake up, there's always some creepy dude sitting next to you...
Every week or so, a creepy dude will sit next to you on the bus even though there are a whole bunch of other completely empty seats. He will then proceed to talk randomly, yet you will only catch some of his disjointed speech through your earphones (since you'll be listening to your iPod). What you do hear will scare to holy hell out of you, since you don't know whether he is talking to you or just into space. You then get off at the closest stop, no matter how far away you are from your destination (unless it happens in West Sac on your way to Davis, then you're just screwed)...
For some reason, everyone seems to smoke on campus. I don't know if it this way everywhere else, but good god. I'm still waiting to see that inevitable event where a professor asks for a light from a student during a break or something...
There are a lot of returning students (i.e. old people) in my classes. However, I find this more cool than anything else, since it makes me feel a little better about myself...
Sacramento has its own distinct smell. Something of a mix of river water and hobo. You have to be here everyday to notice it, however...
West Sac smells even worse, more like just hobo...
There's this hobo who seems to hang around my downtown bus stop. He always asks if I could spare some change for bus fare, yet I have yet to see him ever get on a bus...
Seeing so many hobos make me thankful for everything I have...
Sac City isn't a lot like high school. It is high school, all over again...
Some people from Sacramento don't know where Davis is. Why this surprises me is beyond my comprehension...
There are times when I miss Davis High. They are offset, however, by the times when I wish I could get out of this area...
I am actually seriously considering transferring to Sac State. Why? I don't know...
Seeing people from Davis High, you have to say "hi." It's a rule, whether you knew them or not...
Blasting music when I get home is basically all that keeps me sane...
Cafeteria food is really good...
My film teacher says "um" so much it's driving insane...
Flirting with Sac State girls then saying you're from SCC is a real deal killer...
The SCC mascot is the Panthers. The unofficial mascot is the Black Panthers (not my thoughts, just something really funny if a little racist I heard)...
Study groups would be a good idea, if you actually had to anything to study (which I don't, yet)...
The Davis center feels like a doctors office. A doctors office where you happen to see a whole lot of people you know...
SCC isn't that bad after all. It's quite a cool place, actually. The diversity is almost like snapshot of the "real" world. There's not too much to rag on SCC. The education is ok. And, after all, the textbooks actually cost more than the tuition...
So yeah, that's basically it for now. I can't wait for class on Monday...
Things I've learned in my first month of (community) college-
I am much more conservative than I thought, since I have to deal with annoying hobos everyday and never think twice about not giving them any change and stuff like that...
Mass transit sucks. The buses stink like the hobos who ride it. I'm not saying that only hobos ride it, but yeah, some do. You can't even listen to your iPod without having to basically blast your ear drums out due to the excessive engine noise...
Don't ever sleep on the bus, because when you wake up, there's always some creepy dude sitting next to you...
Every week or so, a creepy dude will sit next to you on the bus even though there are a whole bunch of other completely empty seats. He will then proceed to talk randomly, yet you will only catch some of his disjointed speech through your earphones (since you'll be listening to your iPod). What you do hear will scare to holy hell out of you, since you don't know whether he is talking to you or just into space. You then get off at the closest stop, no matter how far away you are from your destination (unless it happens in West Sac on your way to Davis, then you're just screwed)...
For some reason, everyone seems to smoke on campus. I don't know if it this way everywhere else, but good god. I'm still waiting to see that inevitable event where a professor asks for a light from a student during a break or something...
There are a lot of returning students (i.e. old people) in my classes. However, I find this more cool than anything else, since it makes me feel a little better about myself...
Sacramento has its own distinct smell. Something of a mix of river water and hobo. You have to be here everyday to notice it, however...
West Sac smells even worse, more like just hobo...
There's this hobo who seems to hang around my downtown bus stop. He always asks if I could spare some change for bus fare, yet I have yet to see him ever get on a bus...
Seeing so many hobos make me thankful for everything I have...
Sac City isn't a lot like high school. It is high school, all over again...
Some people from Sacramento don't know where Davis is. Why this surprises me is beyond my comprehension...
There are times when I miss Davis High. They are offset, however, by the times when I wish I could get out of this area...
I am actually seriously considering transferring to Sac State. Why? I don't know...
Seeing people from Davis High, you have to say "hi." It's a rule, whether you knew them or not...
Blasting music when I get home is basically all that keeps me sane...
Cafeteria food is really good...
My film teacher says "um" so much it's driving insane...
Flirting with Sac State girls then saying you're from SCC is a real deal killer...
The SCC mascot is the Panthers. The unofficial mascot is the Black Panthers (not my thoughts, just something really funny if a little racist I heard)...
Study groups would be a good idea, if you actually had to anything to study (which I don't, yet)...
The Davis center feels like a doctors office. A doctors office where you happen to see a whole lot of people you know...
SCC isn't that bad after all. It's quite a cool place, actually. The diversity is almost like snapshot of the "real" world. There's not too much to rag on SCC. The education is ok. And, after all, the textbooks actually cost more than the tuition...
So yeah, that's basically it for now. I can't wait for class on Monday...
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Better Luck Tomorrow
So ends my first week of being a college student. I don't know if it is because of the school I am attending or my state of mind, but I still feel as if though I am still in high school. There are the clique's of friends who stand around in the quad, smoking and blabbing on about pointlessness and whatever. The fact that they are smoking being the main difference between this place and high school.
I guess it will take me awhile, hopefully not as long awhile as it did in high school, to form a close clique of friends.Because that's what it is really about. The relationships you make here. Sure, your high school friends will always have that sort of luster that comes with the memories of a simpler time. But, I hope, the friends you make here have that one thing in common that binds you together in ways you cannot comprehend. Unlike in high school, where you could pretty much plan on seeing the same people somewhere throughout the day, here, you have to physically make time to see your friend. Everyone's class schedule is different, which makes friends you have in the exact same class all the more special.
Sure, this is only community college. But I guess I am viewing this as sort of a dress rehersal for the real thing, if this is not the real thing already. At the moment, I am questioning my earlier declaration to get out of there as soon as possible. Thursday, for the first time this week, the campus almost felt like home. I forgot the fact that I have to bus for about an hour and a half just to get there. I forgot that this was a place I once considered a last resort. I was just in the moment.
-Cecilio
I guess it will take me awhile, hopefully not as long awhile as it did in high school, to form a close clique of friends.Because that's what it is really about. The relationships you make here. Sure, your high school friends will always have that sort of luster that comes with the memories of a simpler time. But, I hope, the friends you make here have that one thing in common that binds you together in ways you cannot comprehend. Unlike in high school, where you could pretty much plan on seeing the same people somewhere throughout the day, here, you have to physically make time to see your friend. Everyone's class schedule is different, which makes friends you have in the exact same class all the more special.
Sure, this is only community college. But I guess I am viewing this as sort of a dress rehersal for the real thing, if this is not the real thing already. At the moment, I am questioning my earlier declaration to get out of there as soon as possible. Thursday, for the first time this week, the campus almost felt like home. I forgot the fact that I have to bus for about an hour and a half just to get there. I forgot that this was a place I once considered a last resort. I was just in the moment.
-Cecilio
Friday, August 24, 2007
Three more days...
...until classes start. Oh boy. I am already going insane with anticipation, fear, and a whole bunch of emotions I have no words for. Looking back on my pathetically short summer, I am saddened by the amount of time wasted. Sure, I managed to get two jobs towards the end, but there were those two wasted months before. No direction, no purpose: the problem I have with summer vacation. Well, there are still two more days left and (in pathetic teen movie declaration mode) I will make the best of it, even though I have to work from 8-2 in the morning on Saturday night and 8-12 in the morning on Sunday night...
Monday, August 20, 2007
...
Tomorrow will be better,
but tonight, I will cry.
Among the sea of memories,
I will drift, on my back,
eyes to the stars, still
firmly entrenched in the past.
but tonight, I will cry.
Among the sea of memories,
I will drift, on my back,
eyes to the stars, still
firmly entrenched in the past.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Good night, and good luck
I knew this was coming. Something I have been avoiding thinking about since graduation. When my friends begin their departure from this town onto bigger and better things. When I could no longer call my best friend to see if he can come over and play for a little while... Oh, how I never grow up.
So, my school starts up in about a week, which means I can no longer dwell on these things I am thinking about right now. But, for the moment, I am in a daze, remembering the times I had we some of these great people who are leaving. I just hope that they come back sometime, just to say hi...
-Cecilio
So, my school starts up in about a week, which means I can no longer dwell on these things I am thinking about right now. But, for the moment, I am in a daze, remembering the times I had we some of these great people who are leaving. I just hope that they come back sometime, just to say hi...
-Cecilio
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
The Ping Pong Song
Okay, so basically I've been singing this song out loud every time it plays on the radio. It's a guilty pleasure of my, and quite catchy. It's known as the "Do You Know (The Ping Pong Song)" in english.
Enrique Iglesias
"Dímelo"
Dímelo
Tú dímelo
Dímelo
¿Dímelo por que estas fuera de mi?
Y al mismo tiempo estas muy dentro
Dímelo sin hablar y hazme sentir todo lo que yo ya siento
Después yo te veo y tú me miras
Y Vamos a comernos nuestra vida
Yo no voy a conformarme inventándote
Siempre ha sido así
Por que yo no puedo despegarme de ti
Cuanto más quiero escaparme más me quedo
Mirándote a los ojos sin respirar
Esperando un solo gesto para empezar
¿Dímelo por que estas fuera de mí?
Y al mismo tiempo estas muy dentro
Dímelo sin hablar y hazme sentir todo lo que yo ya siento
Dímelo suave
Dímelo fuerte
Dímelo fuerte
Dímelo suave
Dímelo por fin de una vez
Me gusta de ti lo mucho que me gustas
Y que poco me perdono dentro de mí
No tenemos nada que perder
Y tenemos demasiado que vivir
Dímelo
Si yo no quiero o lo quiero dímelo y después olvídate de todo
Quiero
Las buenas nuevas siempre son así
Y las malas que se alejen de mi
¿Dímelo por que estas fuera de mí?
Y al mismo tiempo estas muy dentro
Dímelo sin hablar y hazme sentir todo lo que yo ya siento
Se repite coro
Dimelo, Dimelo, Dimelo
Se repite coro 2 veces
Dime que siii, Dime que siii, Dime que siii
Dimelo, Dimelo, Dimelo
Dimelo, Dimelo, Dimelo
Enrique Iglesias
"Dímelo"
Dímelo
Tú dímelo
Dímelo
¿Dímelo por que estas fuera de mi?
Y al mismo tiempo estas muy dentro
Dímelo sin hablar y hazme sentir todo lo que yo ya siento
Después yo te veo y tú me miras
Y Vamos a comernos nuestra vida
Yo no voy a conformarme inventándote
Siempre ha sido así
Por que yo no puedo despegarme de ti
Cuanto más quiero escaparme más me quedo
Mirándote a los ojos sin respirar
Esperando un solo gesto para empezar
¿Dímelo por que estas fuera de mí?
Y al mismo tiempo estas muy dentro
Dímelo sin hablar y hazme sentir todo lo que yo ya siento
Dímelo suave
Dímelo fuerte
Dímelo fuerte
Dímelo suave
Dímelo por fin de una vez
Me gusta de ti lo mucho que me gustas
Y que poco me perdono dentro de mí
No tenemos nada que perder
Y tenemos demasiado que vivir
Dímelo
Si yo no quiero o lo quiero dímelo y después olvídate de todo
Quiero
Las buenas nuevas siempre son así
Y las malas que se alejen de mi
¿Dímelo por que estas fuera de mí?
Y al mismo tiempo estas muy dentro
Dímelo sin hablar y hazme sentir todo lo que yo ya siento
Se repite coro
Dimelo, Dimelo, Dimelo
Se repite coro 2 veces
Dime que siii, Dime que siii, Dime que siii
Dimelo, Dimelo, Dimelo
Dimelo, Dimelo, Dimelo
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
why I will never drink...
So, these past few weeks have been quite interesting and formative. I've started working at two different jobs, friends are beginning to leave (possibly forever), and school is approaching faster with each passing day. Most people would use these reasons as an excuse to party harder and think less about the consequences of their actions because their freedom until next summer is coming to a close. Well, not me.
Sure, I would love to hang out at least once with every person who is leaving this town. Even people I never really knew. But yeah, not really.
Anyway, what does this have to do with drinking? Well, I know that people think alcohol is necessary to heighten the experience of hanging out and all that bullshit. I also know that some people think that they need alcohol to calm down after a hectic or stressful day. I also know that even though they wont admit it, they are forced to drink because of the people around them. Well, I would like to think that I am the opposite of that.
You see, the people around me that do drink have forced me into the conclusion that I will never try to drink in my life, ever. Period. I don't think that I need alcohol to get along with people. I know I don't need it, in fact. I've heard the nonsensical ramblings of the drunkard, and would never want to be that pathetically wasted.
It's not that I'm some right wing crazy who thinks drinking should be banned. It's just my personal opinion that my life will be better if I never drink, ever. I know I've told some people that I have taken a few sips of different brews, but in reality, I was lying. I have never drank anything. It just shows you how the pressures of trying to fit in forced me to lie just so people would think that I was cool with it. That I knew what is going on. That I can fit in. What a load of crap.
Anyway, I know that over the course of my life, it will be difficult to live up to this declaration. I just hope that because I actually wrote it down, I can look back on the resolve I had at this very moment and maybe, in my moments of weakness, gain some sort of perspective. Good night, and good luck.
-Cecilio
Sure, I would love to hang out at least once with every person who is leaving this town. Even people I never really knew. But yeah, not really.
Anyway, what does this have to do with drinking? Well, I know that people think alcohol is necessary to heighten the experience of hanging out and all that bullshit. I also know that some people think that they need alcohol to calm down after a hectic or stressful day. I also know that even though they wont admit it, they are forced to drink because of the people around them. Well, I would like to think that I am the opposite of that.
You see, the people around me that do drink have forced me into the conclusion that I will never try to drink in my life, ever. Period. I don't think that I need alcohol to get along with people. I know I don't need it, in fact. I've heard the nonsensical ramblings of the drunkard, and would never want to be that pathetically wasted.
It's not that I'm some right wing crazy who thinks drinking should be banned. It's just my personal opinion that my life will be better if I never drink, ever. I know I've told some people that I have taken a few sips of different brews, but in reality, I was lying. I have never drank anything. It just shows you how the pressures of trying to fit in forced me to lie just so people would think that I was cool with it. That I knew what is going on. That I can fit in. What a load of crap.
Anyway, I know that over the course of my life, it will be difficult to live up to this declaration. I just hope that because I actually wrote it down, I can look back on the resolve I had at this very moment and maybe, in my moments of weakness, gain some sort of perspective. Good night, and good luck.
-Cecilio
Monday, August 13, 2007
almost...there...
The rough draft is almost done. I'll be starting the second draft tomorrow. Everything is coming together. The time for glory is now. Hah...
Saturday, August 11, 2007
why are you reading this?
Wow, I never thought I could be this tired... Anyway, today was my first day of a whole day of work. Yeah. Wonderful. Two jobs. Am I crazy. Probably. Holy crap. 8am-5:30pm. Good grief. I just hope I get a fat ass paycheck at the end of the month...
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
update
35 pages and counting on my script/screenplay/novella/story on Davis. I'm finally starting on the final scenes. It's all in my head, I just need to write it down... I can see the light...
-Cecilio
-Cecilio
to clear things up...
I'm not actually a Giants fan. I'm not really a Barry Bonds fan. In fact, I've pretty much hated Bonds all my life. My dad is the Giants fan, I'm the Oakland A's fan. However, I do believe that in this country, men are innocent until proven guilty. And until it is proven, not just conjectured, that Bonds used steroids, he will remain the home run king. His accomplishment last night was indeed a monumental moment in baseball history, and will remain so forever, or until someone breaks Bonds' record. Just my thoughts...
-Cecilio
-Cecilio
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Barry Bonds...
...is now the all time home run king. The sole holder of the most hallowed record in sports today. 756. He stands all alone at the top. Whether or not you are a fan of him, his accomplishment is undeniably a momentous day.
O Green World...
This post will deal with the strange phenomena known as "love." More specifically, the kiss kiss bang bang type. Yeah...
In my limited experience in love, I've managed to learn quite a few things, I think. One, you will never know you are truly in love until you fall out of it. Two, everyone in love is stupid. Why? Because to be that open with someone can only lead to the worst heartache one has ever felt before. The more you let them in, the deeper they entrench in the makeup of your soul, and the more they will rip out when they leave.
Of course, I would have to ask, why would someone set themselves up for something as foolish as love? Why waste your precious time searching for something that you know will more than likely hurt you later on? I haven't really found any reasonable answers, but something I do know is that I want to be that foolish. I guess it's human nature or some crap like that, but I want to experience that.
It's the mistakes we make that define us. Sure, we can learn from others experiences and stories, but our own experiences are unique, especially in our own eyes. That is why, I think, we always think our love is special. "Our love is special!" Because it is, and is not. It is because of how personal our feelings are. It is not because there will always be someone who shares those same feelings. Who is willing to set themselves up for that potential heartache.
We will search for that person, far and wide, when really, that person may be right here, across the room, the other side of the phone, stuff like that. Of course, only the lucky sometimes find that person right under their nose. Unfortunately, most of the lucky are also stupid, and the whole fucking cycle repeats itself...
-Cecilio
In my limited experience in love, I've managed to learn quite a few things, I think. One, you will never know you are truly in love until you fall out of it. Two, everyone in love is stupid. Why? Because to be that open with someone can only lead to the worst heartache one has ever felt before. The more you let them in, the deeper they entrench in the makeup of your soul, and the more they will rip out when they leave.
Of course, I would have to ask, why would someone set themselves up for something as foolish as love? Why waste your precious time searching for something that you know will more than likely hurt you later on? I haven't really found any reasonable answers, but something I do know is that I want to be that foolish. I guess it's human nature or some crap like that, but I want to experience that.
It's the mistakes we make that define us. Sure, we can learn from others experiences and stories, but our own experiences are unique, especially in our own eyes. That is why, I think, we always think our love is special. "Our love is special!" Because it is, and is not. It is because of how personal our feelings are. It is not because there will always be someone who shares those same feelings. Who is willing to set themselves up for that potential heartache.
We will search for that person, far and wide, when really, that person may be right here, across the room, the other side of the phone, stuff like that. Of course, only the lucky sometimes find that person right under their nose. Unfortunately, most of the lucky are also stupid, and the whole fucking cycle repeats itself...
-Cecilio
Sunday, August 05, 2007
summer weekends
Nothing ever gets done... Well, nothing too important.
I wish I could remember my dreams longer than the 2 minutes after I wake up...
-Cecilio
I wish I could remember my dreams longer than the 2 minutes after I wake up...
-Cecilio
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Politics...
So, I am a registered Democrat now. Not that I like them any better than Republicans... Anyway, the only reason I registered as a Democrat was to be able to vote for BARACK OBAMA in the primaries. Not that he's any different than any of the other candidates right now, other than his skin color. It's just that, I think he has the potential to be a good president. Nothing really special, not yet. You know, he's been saying the same shit, it's just from a different asshole. He needs to do something, take a stand, make a statement, something that separates him from the pack. Just my thinking...
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Holy crap
It's already August, which of course means (junior) college starts on the 27th. Only three weeks of summer left. I am torn, since I want to start school and begin a new experience, but I also don't want things to change. How pathetic...
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Fire Coming Out Of The Monkey's Head
Little images that inspire as well as disturb you. Inspire because of the imagery. Disturb because you are actually thinking about it...
I am in need of some inspiration right now. Not any spiritual awakening, just something to prove that there is hope for humanity...
-Cecilio
I am in need of some inspiration right now. Not any spiritual awakening, just something to prove that there is hope for humanity...
-Cecilio
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Update
I am now almost halfway done with the rough draft for my Requiem for Davis. I am almost finished with the second act, with only 2 more acts to go. Of course, the hardest parts are still ahead of me, with the editing and rewriting of the entire thing later, and not to mention the parts I haven't written yet... Oh god. But still, it feels good to be able to write down my ideas in a semi-sensical fashion. I love watching how the characters are growing a little bit each time. There is actual direction in this, I think. I even have come up with something of a real title for this piece, "Awkward Silence." Hmm, cliché? Maybe, but it fits well to me...
18 pages and counting.
I just got to keep on writing and not give up.
Stay inspired.
-Cecilio
18 pages and counting.
I just got to keep on writing and not give up.
Stay inspired.
-Cecilio
Monday, July 30, 2007
Round up...
R.I.P. Bill "The Genius" Walsh. You will be missed by the 49er faithful, as well as the rest of the league. You are the father of the modern game. Nothing can compare to your vast legacy, in the minds of the fans and NFL history...
1931-2007
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Walking...
Oh, how I love walking about two miles in 100 degree summer heat in tight heavy clothes and big clunky shoes. It just makes my day...
Why was I doing that? Well, it all has to do with my resolve never to attend another church service again. I am willing lose about 10 pounds walking home rather than listen another pathetic empty sermon. This is my faith now, a faith in myself and humanity, not in my mother's god.
My feet do hurt like fucking crazy right now, though. But, I do not regret my decision, not yet.
Oh, and if there is a god, why would he create such a disease that destroys the very thing that makes us human, that defines who we are? I am talking about Alzheimer’s disease, which is afflicting my beloved grandmother. The doesn't recognize too many people anymore, including me. This deeply saddens me, because I hold very fond memories of her. I can't really say much more, since I am at a loss for words...
-Cecilio
Why was I doing that? Well, it all has to do with my resolve never to attend another church service again. I am willing lose about 10 pounds walking home rather than listen another pathetic empty sermon. This is my faith now, a faith in myself and humanity, not in my mother's god.
My feet do hurt like fucking crazy right now, though. But, I do not regret my decision, not yet.
Oh, and if there is a god, why would he create such a disease that destroys the very thing that makes us human, that defines who we are? I am talking about Alzheimer’s disease, which is afflicting my beloved grandmother. The doesn't recognize too many people anymore, including me. This deeply saddens me, because I hold very fond memories of her. I can't really say much more, since I am at a loss for words...
-Cecilio
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Take me out...
I love watching baseball in the summer. Whether it is curling up in front of the TV to watch an evening game or venturing out to McAfee Colosseum on the weekends. Nothing beats baseball, in my opinion. It is still the great American pastime, no matter how big football and basketball get. Of course, during those two months when the baseball and football seasons overlap, if I have to choose between an A's game and 49ers one, there will be no contest. The Niners one for sure. Unless it is a playoff game.
However, to back up my statement that baseball is still the great American pastime, I can only say that baseball is the most accessible and universal sport. Everyone has played a in baseball game. Those who haven't are really missing out. Anyone who says baseball is boring to watch just doesn't know what to watch for. Baseball is the ultimate numbers game. Statistics exist for almost every conceivable thing they do on the base paths. Baseball at the major levels is also one of the most technical sports out there. The fine tuning involved in every pitch and every swing looks so smooth as to look easy, but there is so much going on behind all that. And yeah, whatever.
I guess I am writing this because my team is slowly surging right now. They are coming out of a horrible streak of losses that would make fans of other teams say that the season is a loss. But these are the A's. The constant overachievers.
Oh, and I start training for my first job in 2 years on Monday. Yippie. Although that means when I do start my job, I will have less time to watch baseball. Damn.
God I am tired...
-Cecilio
However, to back up my statement that baseball is still the great American pastime, I can only say that baseball is the most accessible and universal sport. Everyone has played a in baseball game. Those who haven't are really missing out. Anyone who says baseball is boring to watch just doesn't know what to watch for. Baseball is the ultimate numbers game. Statistics exist for almost every conceivable thing they do on the base paths. Baseball at the major levels is also one of the most technical sports out there. The fine tuning involved in every pitch and every swing looks so smooth as to look easy, but there is so much going on behind all that. And yeah, whatever.
I guess I am writing this because my team is slowly surging right now. They are coming out of a horrible streak of losses that would make fans of other teams say that the season is a loss. But these are the A's. The constant overachievers.
Oh, and I start training for my first job in 2 years on Monday. Yippie. Although that means when I do start my job, I will have less time to watch baseball. Damn.
God I am tired...
-Cecilio
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Somewhere over the rainbow
"Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high,
There's a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby.
Way up high,
There's a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.
Someday I'll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far
Behind me.
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That's where you'll find me.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly.
Birds fly over the rainbow.
Why then, oh why can't I?
If happy little bluebirds fly
Beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can't I?"
I've been singing this song all week, annoying the hell out of people. Unlike Dorothy, however, I am searching for a home, rather than wishing I could go back. The home I have come to know all too well holds way too many memories for me to stay much longer. I fear for my sanity, as well as my future. My friends will soon be leaving, for college, work, and whatever. Me and a handful of people will be left behind, nursing those memories that staying here will bring. One by one, the ones who remain will dwindle, fleeing this place. This town. This hell. Is this place I live in home?
-Cecilio
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
The first burned bridge...
So, in my pathetic type of rebellion, I decided that I will no longer attend church. I've been going to church (the good old Catholic kind) since I was a born. I was baptized as soon as my parents could book an appointment. I went through all of the sacraments, all of the religious education, and yet their brainwashing couldn't penetrate my mind (disturbing choice of words, noting recent events of the church...). Indeed, they do try to brainwash you as a child...
Here is the type of brainwashing they instill on you- One of the first things you learn in religious ed is a few very catchy songs, songs that I could still sing word for word today. As a child, they distill the more disturbing parts of the Bible to little cartoons and omit some other parts all together. During the reading of the Gospel, the religious ed leaders gather all the kids from the church, taking them from their families, into this room in the school where the leaders recite the Gospel and then discuss it. Of course, they call this active participation in the word of God.
However, through all of this and among other things, I managed to form a much more critical opinion of the church. I cannot pinpoint the exact time when I began to question what I was learning every Sunday, but I know it must have happened when I began reading a larger breadth of books, which was around 5th grade or something like that. Why would reading different books distance me so much from the Bible? Lord if I knew... But one thing I do know is that the universal truths the Bible parades around in its allegorical fashion can be learned from other sources, especially in this day and age.
And this brings me to the reason why I decided to never attend church voluntarily again. Attending a Catholic mass in my area now, one would love to scream out loud "preaching to the choir" throughout the mass. Why? Well, it seemed that every single mass I've attended seemed like ever other mass. The only difference being the normal rotation of the priests who spit this bullshit. Well, not all of it is bullshit, but most of it is.
Indeed, I did not really have a problem from the priests. Well, I did not have a problem with the main priests, some others I just hated for their holier than thou attitude. Ironic? Yes. Anyway, I hated church because of all the jackasses that attended it. Barely any of the these people practiced what they preached. For example, my own parents. They listened to all this preaching of love and peace, but when they came home, they always talked about how they hated their neighbors and their animosity towards the people they feel have wronged them over the years. Excuse me? But isn't one of the main teachings of the Bible is forgiveness?
Yet, it wasn't just the jackasses (and yes, I just implied that my parents are jackasses). It was the climate of the times. From the issues with gay marriage, the ongoing and pointless evolution debate, and the wars in the Middle East and elsewhere that seem only to be fueled by religion, I just couldn't bring myself to identify with religion. People use religion for things it shouldn't be used for and was never intended for use in the first place. I've formed a more objective view of religion in the past few years, from which I concluded that people created religion, created their own gods, in order to bring peace and a sense of security in this scary world. I believe there have been times where religion had it's place; the early days of man up to the Civil Rights movement of the 1960's. But, increasingly, people have been using religion as more of a crutch to uphold their believes that may or may not be a part of the beliefs of the religion in the first place.
But what the hell do I know. The only thing I'm sure of is that I've decided that I can no longer attend mass with my family. Indeed, I do think I got some good things out of my experience with my church, but most of the things have nothing to do with the belief in God. The things being; presents on Christmas for celebrating the birth of Christ, talking it up with really hot Catholic girls (it's not a stereotype, seriously), and the courage to ask questions. Of course, the courage I gained eventually led me away from the church.
-Cecilio
Here is the type of brainwashing they instill on you- One of the first things you learn in religious ed is a few very catchy songs, songs that I could still sing word for word today. As a child, they distill the more disturbing parts of the Bible to little cartoons and omit some other parts all together. During the reading of the Gospel, the religious ed leaders gather all the kids from the church, taking them from their families, into this room in the school where the leaders recite the Gospel and then discuss it. Of course, they call this active participation in the word of God.
However, through all of this and among other things, I managed to form a much more critical opinion of the church. I cannot pinpoint the exact time when I began to question what I was learning every Sunday, but I know it must have happened when I began reading a larger breadth of books, which was around 5th grade or something like that. Why would reading different books distance me so much from the Bible? Lord if I knew... But one thing I do know is that the universal truths the Bible parades around in its allegorical fashion can be learned from other sources, especially in this day and age.
And this brings me to the reason why I decided to never attend church voluntarily again. Attending a Catholic mass in my area now, one would love to scream out loud "preaching to the choir" throughout the mass. Why? Well, it seemed that every single mass I've attended seemed like ever other mass. The only difference being the normal rotation of the priests who spit this bullshit. Well, not all of it is bullshit, but most of it is.
Indeed, I did not really have a problem from the priests. Well, I did not have a problem with the main priests, some others I just hated for their holier than thou attitude. Ironic? Yes. Anyway, I hated church because of all the jackasses that attended it. Barely any of the these people practiced what they preached. For example, my own parents. They listened to all this preaching of love and peace, but when they came home, they always talked about how they hated their neighbors and their animosity towards the people they feel have wronged them over the years. Excuse me? But isn't one of the main teachings of the Bible is forgiveness?
Yet, it wasn't just the jackasses (and yes, I just implied that my parents are jackasses). It was the climate of the times. From the issues with gay marriage, the ongoing and pointless evolution debate, and the wars in the Middle East and elsewhere that seem only to be fueled by religion, I just couldn't bring myself to identify with religion. People use religion for things it shouldn't be used for and was never intended for use in the first place. I've formed a more objective view of religion in the past few years, from which I concluded that people created religion, created their own gods, in order to bring peace and a sense of security in this scary world. I believe there have been times where religion had it's place; the early days of man up to the Civil Rights movement of the 1960's. But, increasingly, people have been using religion as more of a crutch to uphold their believes that may or may not be a part of the beliefs of the religion in the first place.
But what the hell do I know. The only thing I'm sure of is that I've decided that I can no longer attend mass with my family. Indeed, I do think I got some good things out of my experience with my church, but most of the things have nothing to do with the belief in God. The things being; presents on Christmas for celebrating the birth of Christ, talking it up with really hot Catholic girls (it's not a stereotype, seriously), and the courage to ask questions. Of course, the courage I gained eventually led me away from the church.
-Cecilio
Monday, July 16, 2007
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Requiem (for Davis)
More specifically, it's a requiem for people leaving Davis.
It's a new project I am working on at the moment, originally conceived from my experience in making another movie kinda like it during school and from other ideas floating around in my head. It basically encompasses all of my experiences, thoughts, and other stuff I've gained from living in Davis, in an attempt to make people appreciate this place I am glad to call home. I am hoping to organize it enough to make it into a movie (amateur, of course), but so far it is only a 7 page short story that is still incomplete. When I actually finish writing it, then I'll see if it is strong enough to be made into some sort of coherent movie. If I do try to make it, I will need a lot of help...
-Cecilio
It's a new project I am working on at the moment, originally conceived from my experience in making another movie kinda like it during school and from other ideas floating around in my head. It basically encompasses all of my experiences, thoughts, and other stuff I've gained from living in Davis, in an attempt to make people appreciate this place I am glad to call home. I am hoping to organize it enough to make it into a movie (amateur, of course), but so far it is only a 7 page short story that is still incomplete. When I actually finish writing it, then I'll see if it is strong enough to be made into some sort of coherent movie. If I do try to make it, I will need a lot of help...
-Cecilio
Friday, June 29, 2007
Someone
Nothing seems to change. I have always been this person who doesn't know his own personality. Basically, I just created a personality from the perception, or what I thought their perception was, of the people around me. I have strived to break that mold I had created, but by the time I got where I was almost happy with myself, high school ended. I have to start all over again...
I will always be this person who chases the absolutely unreachable. There is always a something in my life that tortures me day and night. Something I dream about, something that I know I will only be able to dream about. Someone, rather...
Yeah, maybe when I start college next fall, something might be different. But of course, not everything thing will change. Yeah, I'm tired... time to go to bed.
-Cecilio
I will always be this person who chases the absolutely unreachable. There is always a something in my life that tortures me day and night. Something I dream about, something that I know I will only be able to dream about. Someone, rather...
Yeah, maybe when I start college next fall, something might be different. But of course, not everything thing will change. Yeah, I'm tired... time to go to bed.
-Cecilio
Monday, June 18, 2007
Pompous Circumstance (artifacts) [the aftermath of graduation]
if you actually read this, I love you.
It's funny how we collect things. Inanimate objects that clutters our rooms. Things that obviously represent something more important or hold some sort of special meaning. Do we collect these things because we fear about forgetting if we don't have a physical thing that connects us to our past? Or do we just want something to prove that we were there, that our memories do not betray us? I ask myself this every time I look at the little artifacts that litter my room.
I can name each of the meanings of all the little artifacts in my room, off the top of my head, after looking at them a little, maybe. There are the little porcelain chickens that I used to play with at my grandfather's house. The plush blue bunny that was, and still is, my favorite toy my grandmother gave to me probably when I was two or something. The scratched vinyl records my aunt gave me one time, since she had no use for them anymore. The Legos I used to play with, some of my creations still intact. The trophy I won for coming in 6th place at a chess tournament in Sacramento, my only trophy. My yearbooks, each one with a little more signatures in them, with my 6th and 7th grade ones completely devoid of notes.
The newest of these artifacts being my graduation tassel.
It just hangs there, a new ornament on my shelf.
Funny thing about it, it is not the actual tassel I was wearing. I lost the real one, one with a Blue Devil instead of a big '07. Something I thought was kinda cute, and kinda unique. Lost in the fray as I hugged and congratulated my former classmates on Toomey Field that hot Friday night.
This thing that hangs from my shelf is actually the one I had stuffed in my pocket during the ceremony. The extra, the replacement. If I were any sort of Catholic, I would say that it wasn't the blessed one. It wasn't the one that I switched from left to right (which I did, like an idiot, a little to early in the ceremony…). It wasn't the one I cherished for being unique.
Sure, there is my forthcoming diploma to validate all my hard work over the past four years. But this pathetic, inanimate tassel will always represent those things I so cherish, and despise about my high school experience. Because those few days, the last day of school, the day of graduation, and that grad night party, completely encapsulated my experience.
There was the last day of school, where I only had one class. Extremely anti-climactic, being that it was my easiest final and most boring class. I bull shitted most of the final, not really thinking about the questions. Much like the way I bull shitted most of my tests throughout the years. I can hardly remember studying for any test. If it was an easy test, I reasoned it was too easy to study for. If it was a hard test, I reasoned that I would fail anyway even if I studied. The slackers way out.
The day of graduation reminded me of how much I actually liked high school. Mainly for the relationships I formed. The people I got to know. It felt good to know who about half the people who walked up to receive their diploma. Of course, it was also saddening that I didn't get to know those people any better. I know them to the point I will remember them, but I wonder if we'll recognize each other ten or twenty years from now…
Then there was grad night. Bouncing back and forth between three groups of friends. Groups of friends that wouldn't mix too well. I went in there with a plan. This was the last time I would probably see most of these people. I had to tell some people things. I had to let them know. But, like usual, I froze, and fell back on my oldest crutch, my shyness. Ever since I was in kindergarten, I can remember the fear of speaking up. I still feel this fear at times, and grad night was one of those times. It is like this pain in the back of my mouth. I would equate it to choking up when you cry, but I can't remember the last time I cried… Sure, I can control it, but it takes the conviction that the conditions are just right, that the scenarios in my mind will play out like I had thought. I guess that this night things weren't playing out right. I guess I can be happy that I didn't make a fool out of myself for saying something that I'll regret later. But there will always be that thought of what if, what if I told that person that one thing I've been waiting to tell them since I can remember. I had told someone this before, with disastrous results, which probably explains why I was hesitant. I could still tell them, but I of course missed a golden opportunity that night, like I always do. Always do things at the last minute, always let things pass me by…
That is what I'll always think about when I look at that inanimate tassel. It is unfortunate that I have so many bad memories of high school that they completely obscure the good memories. There are good memories. Always. I try to remember them. Memories that let me sleep at night knowing that things that couldn't have gone better. They are the same artifacts.
I know that I can't change things that happened in the past, and that I must change things now for the future. But it is just so hard to let go of the past. That is why I cherish these inanimate, lifeless, and overall useless objects.
Pompous Circumstance (artifacts)
It's funny how we collect things. Inanimate objects that clutters our rooms. Things that obviously represent something more important or hold some sort of special meaning. Do we collect these things because we fear about forgetting if we don't have a physical thing that connects us to our past? Or do we just want something to prove that we were there, that our memories do not betray us? I ask myself this every time I look at the little artifacts that litter my room.
I can name each of the meanings of all the little artifacts in my room, off the top of my head, after looking at them a little, maybe. There are the little porcelain chickens that I used to play with at my grandfather's house. The plush blue bunny that was, and still is, my favorite toy my grandmother gave to me probably when I was two or something. The scratched vinyl records my aunt gave me one time, since she had no use for them anymore. The Legos I used to play with, some of my creations still intact. The trophy I won for coming in 6th place at a chess tournament in Sacramento, my only trophy. My yearbooks, each one with a little more signatures in them, with my 6th and 7th grade ones completely devoid of notes.
The newest of these artifacts being my graduation tassel.
It just hangs there, a new ornament on my shelf.
Funny thing about it, it is not the actual tassel I was wearing. I lost the real one, one with a Blue Devil instead of a big '07. Something I thought was kinda cute, and kinda unique. Lost in the fray as I hugged and congratulated my former classmates on Toomey Field that hot Friday night.
This thing that hangs from my shelf is actually the one I had stuffed in my pocket during the ceremony. The extra, the replacement. If I were any sort of Catholic, I would say that it wasn't the blessed one. It wasn't the one that I switched from left to right (which I did, like an idiot, a little to early in the ceremony…). It wasn't the one I cherished for being unique.
Sure, there is my forthcoming diploma to validate all my hard work over the past four years. But this pathetic, inanimate tassel will always represent those things I so cherish, and despise about my high school experience. Because those few days, the last day of school, the day of graduation, and that grad night party, completely encapsulated my experience.
There was the last day of school, where I only had one class. Extremely anti-climactic, being that it was my easiest final and most boring class. I bull shitted most of the final, not really thinking about the questions. Much like the way I bull shitted most of my tests throughout the years. I can hardly remember studying for any test. If it was an easy test, I reasoned it was too easy to study for. If it was a hard test, I reasoned that I would fail anyway even if I studied. The slackers way out.
The day of graduation reminded me of how much I actually liked high school. Mainly for the relationships I formed. The people I got to know. It felt good to know who about half the people who walked up to receive their diploma. Of course, it was also saddening that I didn't get to know those people any better. I know them to the point I will remember them, but I wonder if we'll recognize each other ten or twenty years from now…
Then there was grad night. Bouncing back and forth between three groups of friends. Groups of friends that wouldn't mix too well. I went in there with a plan. This was the last time I would probably see most of these people. I had to tell some people things. I had to let them know. But, like usual, I froze, and fell back on my oldest crutch, my shyness. Ever since I was in kindergarten, I can remember the fear of speaking up. I still feel this fear at times, and grad night was one of those times. It is like this pain in the back of my mouth. I would equate it to choking up when you cry, but I can't remember the last time I cried… Sure, I can control it, but it takes the conviction that the conditions are just right, that the scenarios in my mind will play out like I had thought. I guess that this night things weren't playing out right. I guess I can be happy that I didn't make a fool out of myself for saying something that I'll regret later. But there will always be that thought of what if, what if I told that person that one thing I've been waiting to tell them since I can remember. I had told someone this before, with disastrous results, which probably explains why I was hesitant. I could still tell them, but I of course missed a golden opportunity that night, like I always do. Always do things at the last minute, always let things pass me by…
That is what I'll always think about when I look at that inanimate tassel. It is unfortunate that I have so many bad memories of high school that they completely obscure the good memories. There are good memories. Always. I try to remember them. Memories that let me sleep at night knowing that things that couldn't have gone better. They are the same artifacts.
I know that I can't change things that happened in the past, and that I must change things now for the future. But it is just so hard to let go of the past. That is why I cherish these inanimate, lifeless, and overall useless objects.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Just vague enough to be universal...
This College Thing... Part 3 of 3
Just vague enough to be universal...
Things are getting a little too real. Graduation is only a few weeks away. I hold in my hands the cap and gown I will wear on that day. I can see the smiling faces of crowd as I turn to look them over, sitting in the old, fading bleachers at Toomey Field. I can see myself, the morning after grad night, walking into a world exactly the same as I left it, only missing most of the people I've grown so accustomed to seeing on a daily basis, and not just friends…Just because…
I can consider myself a failure, just because I didn't get into the college of my choice. Not like I could have paid for it reasonably anyway, but still… As the rejection letters piled up, so did my anxiety. Sure, I got accepted at UCSC, but upon visiting that hallowed establishment which was the only UC to accept me, I decided this was not the place for me. So between UCSC, SFSU, and SCC, I chose SCC. Why? I don't really know. It could be because many people I know are going there. Or maybe because it is oh so much cheaper. It could be because it is much closer to home. It could be because I just wanted to answer without a doubt those prodding questions of "so, where are you going to college next year?" Anyway, it's all the same.
Back home…
I've already planned the last day of school. One class, my most boring. Physics. I get the car on that day, just to go to school for one class. Two hours, say some good-byes, then I'm done. I'll probably take a little stroll around campus just one more time, for old time sakes. Visit the table I've eaten at for the past three years. Walk by one of my favorite classes, even if the teacher doesn't even teach there anymore. Sit beneath a tree in the quad and watch the entire school go by. Maybe, hopefully, someone comes along with me, but that's a long shot. I'll get in the car, drive off, blasting my traditional song signaling the end of another school year, "Beautiful Day" by U2.
Philosophizing…
I always hear, where there's an end there's a new beginning. What the hell is that supposed to mean anyway? The past year, I've been getting to thinking that things never end. You will always feel those feelings whenever you see that one girl you've been crushing on ever since you can remember. You'll always long for the days when right after lunch you got play basketball on the blacktop. We'll hold these memories forever, and that is why this never ends. We live for recapturing that moment, maybe somewhere else, maybe right here. We will begin again, but there aren't new feelings, just vestigial emotions from the shit we had to go through last time.
…and the band played on…
I don't get emotional. It's not my thing. But if a tear manages to crease my cheek, don't take it as a sign of the apocalypse. I'll be ok, I hope.
To quote a song from that same U2 album, "It's all that you can't leave behind…"
Friday, March 09, 2007
How To Save A Life...
So in about two hours, I will be off to Bogus Ball, the most pointless and pathetic excuse for a spring dance my school has to offer. I was seriously not contemplating going, and certain circumstances made my decision even harder. Yet, I reasoned that since this is the last Bogus Ball I'll ever attend, mainly because I am a senior now, I might as well go. To hell with getting a date and all that other crap, I'm just going to go and find the other dateless wonders and have fun...
Now that is the type of attitude that scares me. It's that vain, careless, see-what-happens type of attitude that scares me. This is probably why I am extremely anti social at times, but whatever. I just can't stand going somewhere without some sort of plan, some sort of reason. I always seem to think something over and over again in my mind, until every single possibility has played itself out.
But, for some odd reason, that plan always backfires. I just need to look back on all the failures in the past month, past years, to see how much that pathetic crutch has failed. Why, just last month, just to give meaning to the last innocent Valentines Day, I gave someone I thought wouldn't hurt me in the end a bouquet of flowers, you know, just to show her I care. For few hours after school when I returned home, the world felt right once again. For the first time since elementary, I felt completely hopeful and sure of myself. Yet, after I awoke from my afternoon nap, my cell phone rang, and it was her on the other line. You know what happens when you receive a call from someone you weren't expecting. To say the least, that innocent little infatuation with that girl ended right there. Of course, like I always do, I don't take "no" for an answer, and succeeded in completely alienating her from my life.
I managed to gather my thoughts for a little bit after that, and write something that was eventually published in the Sacramento Bee. Here it is-
"The Aftermath of Valentines Day
By Cecilio Padilla
How do you tell someone they're the reason you wake, that you haul your butt to school at 7:45 in morning every day, just for the momentary pleasantry you share as you cross paths in the hall? You can't, but I tried.
I tried and failed.
If it weren't for Valentines Day, I would have never had the courage to even try. It has that morphine-like effect on you, numbing you to reason.
The somber realization hits in the subsequent days. When you pay in sleepless nights and forgetful days for that one gesture, that one day.
It can be roses, candy, or overstuffed bears, but it always taken the same way. What was once an innocent little friendship morphs into a dangerous delusion. You find yourself waiting for that one call that, deep down, you know will never come.
Apologies always fail because they are never whole hearted. Rather, they are vain attempts to restore the status quo, the way things used to be.
Finally, days, weeks, months later, that one devastating and awkward talk comes.
I only wanted to do more than just say 'hello.' Never wanted anything more than a friend. But I guess that is the aftermath of Valentines Day."
Pathetic? Oh yeah... As if I needed to alienate and make her even more uncomfortable...
That is the word of the year, "uncomfortable." No matter what I try to do, I always seem to be uncomfortable. When I try to make myself comfortable, I only manage to make others uncomfortable. Goddammit.
There is also this one thing that has been gnawing at me since high school began. I hate my friends. Each and every one of them. I have almost nothing in common with them. Yet, I have almost nothing in common with anyone. Sure, they are some nice people but, as I've learned time and time again, nice guys finish last. It is those jerks at the top of the food chain that I wish I could be a part of. Yet, I know deep down that I would have found a way to hate them too. Once again, it goes back to that word "uncomfortable." Goddammit.
___________________________________________________________________
There is surely an image I have to keep up about myself. I've been doing some serious soul searching over the past months, considering what have I done, what haven't I done, what were my mistakes, what did I do right, all that crap. I've realized that I've done little right. I've fucked up my grades, I've fucked up my relationships with everyone who matters, and I've fucked up my body. I could have studied instead of sit on my ass, watch reruns of South Park, and wolf down potato chips. But no, I would rather take the lower grade and reason that "it won't hurt my grade too much, I'll still pass..."
Now I have to face the consequences of my actions. To be honest, I don't think I'm going to get into any sort of good college. I've been accepted to SFSU, but the only thing needed to get in there is to pay the price of submitting your application. There is no way in hell I'm getting into USC, UCLA, or even UCSD. I might have a chance at UCSC and my hometown college, UCD, but they are still long shots after what my first semester senior grades look like. Goddammit.
Then there is the ultimate consequence. I fear that I will be alone. Alone for when the world slowly engulfs me and the perfect little universe I live in now collapses in on itself. I fear that no one will ever truly like me for me. I am such an asshole. I put up so many barriers around myself that I fear the real me has been forever lost somewhere inside, or it just suffocated on self importance.
Well, the only solace is that there is still basically half a year left to make some things right. I know I cannot make everything right, but I can at least begin where I left off somewhere in 7th grade. I can begin to start my life once again.
Now that is the type of attitude that scares me. It's that vain, careless, see-what-happens type of attitude that scares me. This is probably why I am extremely anti social at times, but whatever. I just can't stand going somewhere without some sort of plan, some sort of reason. I always seem to think something over and over again in my mind, until every single possibility has played itself out.
But, for some odd reason, that plan always backfires. I just need to look back on all the failures in the past month, past years, to see how much that pathetic crutch has failed. Why, just last month, just to give meaning to the last innocent Valentines Day, I gave someone I thought wouldn't hurt me in the end a bouquet of flowers, you know, just to show her I care. For few hours after school when I returned home, the world felt right once again. For the first time since elementary, I felt completely hopeful and sure of myself. Yet, after I awoke from my afternoon nap, my cell phone rang, and it was her on the other line. You know what happens when you receive a call from someone you weren't expecting. To say the least, that innocent little infatuation with that girl ended right there. Of course, like I always do, I don't take "no" for an answer, and succeeded in completely alienating her from my life.
I managed to gather my thoughts for a little bit after that, and write something that was eventually published in the Sacramento Bee. Here it is-
"The Aftermath of Valentines Day
By Cecilio Padilla
How do you tell someone they're the reason you wake, that you haul your butt to school at 7:45 in morning every day, just for the momentary pleasantry you share as you cross paths in the hall? You can't, but I tried.
I tried and failed.
If it weren't for Valentines Day, I would have never had the courage to even try. It has that morphine-like effect on you, numbing you to reason.
The somber realization hits in the subsequent days. When you pay in sleepless nights and forgetful days for that one gesture, that one day.
It can be roses, candy, or overstuffed bears, but it always taken the same way. What was once an innocent little friendship morphs into a dangerous delusion. You find yourself waiting for that one call that, deep down, you know will never come.
Apologies always fail because they are never whole hearted. Rather, they are vain attempts to restore the status quo, the way things used to be.
Finally, days, weeks, months later, that one devastating and awkward talk comes.
I only wanted to do more than just say 'hello.' Never wanted anything more than a friend. But I guess that is the aftermath of Valentines Day."
Pathetic? Oh yeah... As if I needed to alienate and make her even more uncomfortable...
That is the word of the year, "uncomfortable." No matter what I try to do, I always seem to be uncomfortable. When I try to make myself comfortable, I only manage to make others uncomfortable. Goddammit.
There is also this one thing that has been gnawing at me since high school began. I hate my friends. Each and every one of them. I have almost nothing in common with them. Yet, I have almost nothing in common with anyone. Sure, they are some nice people but, as I've learned time and time again, nice guys finish last. It is those jerks at the top of the food chain that I wish I could be a part of. Yet, I know deep down that I would have found a way to hate them too. Once again, it goes back to that word "uncomfortable." Goddammit.
___________________________________________________________________
There is surely an image I have to keep up about myself. I've been doing some serious soul searching over the past months, considering what have I done, what haven't I done, what were my mistakes, what did I do right, all that crap. I've realized that I've done little right. I've fucked up my grades, I've fucked up my relationships with everyone who matters, and I've fucked up my body. I could have studied instead of sit on my ass, watch reruns of South Park, and wolf down potato chips. But no, I would rather take the lower grade and reason that "it won't hurt my grade too much, I'll still pass..."
Now I have to face the consequences of my actions. To be honest, I don't think I'm going to get into any sort of good college. I've been accepted to SFSU, but the only thing needed to get in there is to pay the price of submitting your application. There is no way in hell I'm getting into USC, UCLA, or even UCSD. I might have a chance at UCSC and my hometown college, UCD, but they are still long shots after what my first semester senior grades look like. Goddammit.
Then there is the ultimate consequence. I fear that I will be alone. Alone for when the world slowly engulfs me and the perfect little universe I live in now collapses in on itself. I fear that no one will ever truly like me for me. I am such an asshole. I put up so many barriers around myself that I fear the real me has been forever lost somewhere inside, or it just suffocated on self importance.
Well, the only solace is that there is still basically half a year left to make some things right. I know I cannot make everything right, but I can at least begin where I left off somewhere in 7th grade. I can begin to start my life once again.
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