A new chapter

Some time in 2017...

There's so much more to life than endless, meaningless addictions. Find the wholesomeness inside you and plant it, water it, and let it grow into something beautiful.

There's something that wakes us all up inside, that makes us unique, that allows us to be more than just a droplet of water in the sea of humanity. Some days I forget about that special quality and ride with the current. Other days I am reminded of my former self or the hologram of a new one. When I was scrolling through Twitter, my friend Kalithe wrote a thread, and the last line stuck with me: "No matter if it's been three, five, or seven years, people don't change. Change my mind."
Hmm. I beg to differ.


I just need to get out of my room and explore the area more, meet new friends, experience new things and the different kinds of people out there to inspire from, gain experience and wisdom, and add more to the resources for my imagination. This particular weekend I went to an escape room down in Savannah, GA with five of my friends, one of which I invited who lived down there. He was the only other furry. The room was rated 9/10 in difficulty, but eventually we found our way out with only 47 seconds to spare. After that, I went to crash at my friend Ash's place. We cuddled, played Donkey Kong Country, he shared his collection of antique Apple computers, classic video games, ambient lighting and bulletin boards of photos, badges, patches and memories collected over the years. Just opposite the closet was a board filled with previous convention badges. In the closet were his fursuits, to which he owned two heads, and above that was a limited edition FWA soda from 2018 cotton candy flavored and a string of custom badges of his character, Ashene Coyote. He had a mini, 3d printed figurine of him as well, in fursuit. I was a total dork when I put my fennec head on, easily excited over being called a "good boy" and wiggling like a fresh plate of gelatin. Eventually we slept, him grinding against my rump. When we awoke, I blew him until he finished, and he sat on my face until I blew my load. After that, we went to a chicken and waffle store, he paid for my stuff, and then he dropped me off at a Parker's to Uber the rest of the way back to base.

I am a family person, and I have a dual personality. When I'm being flirty, that's not the same person as the friendly, wholesome person I so desperately want to believe in. It saddened me how often I stray into the corners where my sins welcome my return with open arms.
    I had a dream about a forest. Some parts of it were glowing with trees shaped like mushrooms. The route was scenic. Open roads with green fields with a smidge of incline. Trees to shade the sparse houses that dot the lands. On the way, Sgt Moser (a friend of mine from 4th battalion at the time) was training a few Marines about the fundamentals of having good posture for the rifle. As we roamed the land, a sudden change of pace came. I was with my grandmother, my aunt Mary, my mother, and my younger brother. As we crossed the street, a truck was coming our way. It didn't slow down as we helped Abuelita walk. Instead, it steered towards our direction, coming fully on our way. We had to hurry Abuelita out of the way. Another truck hurried shortly after with the same objective. I was the lone survivor.


I hate them. I need to be baptized. They made me eat meat as a five year strict vegetarian after I had lost a bet from a Super Smash Bros. Tourney. There's a video of me doing it. I despise it. When I came back, everyone we knew collected in my room in surprise and watched me as I resorted to the corner with a mop bucket over my head. Phil, a beloved fur friend, was there to support me.

I just saw a flash in my left eye. The lights didn't flicker. It was bright, white and spontaneous. I can't stop trembling, even when I think about it. I see colors. No matter how hard I try, it happens. My hand quivers. I can't focus. My head hurts. I don't know what'll happen next. I twitch constantly.


When fiction and memory become a blurry thing, when they become one. When the truth comes out.

I need Taiko.
I never realized how much until I looked back on who I am.

I want to be different. I don't know how I'm doing this. I am an attention seeker. Even with the therapy I'm getting, it doesn't justify for all the things I've done. I don't like the things I've done. Why do I do this to myself, and why do I feel so sorry for myself? I'm tired of you losing faith in these things that you have hope for. Why do you have to find something or someone to blame your faults for? What good will it do to redirect your failures and sorrows onto others? Why are you so afraid of admitting to fault?

I had a dream about my grandmother again, this time my mother took away my In memory of card of her from my wallet.

Another dream had her dying. Her papers for the afterlife were corrupted and couldn't be retrieved, so she was never able to be discharged from... life until it was too late. She finally became at peace and faded from our memory.

After playing Life is Strange 2, I realize how much I used to bicker with my younger brother, Alex. He was sometimes a mess, a nuisance, but now that I am away from my family, I miss him.

20181005
A return to my state of origin. What was it like when I first joined the Marine Corps? Where had all that luster gone, that drive, determination to be someone better, the hunger for exploration and the will to seek more than what I know? Where had that all disappeared off to, and why am I still holding that potential inward? At this rate, Sketches, my current literary project, will never be written, and the story of my life will become the very essence of the metaphor the book entails, highlights to. It'll remain solely as a sketch.
I know I've changed, and I don't know it was for better or worse. Currently, I seek aid for my mental health I feel is a step in the right direction. The lack of stepping stones is seriously affecting my outlook on life. Another reason as to why I haven't posted another blog update is because I have yet to follow up with my aspiration. Maybe all I needed was some God in my life. Right now I resort to misery. 

Read more. It'll help your starving imagination.

Talk with your grandmother, too.

She knows the answer.

20191228

It's been two years since the passing of my grandmother, and I am just now realizing it's my older brother's birthday today. Why I don't update my blog more often beats me, but with the eventual End of Active service date coming up in October of 2020, I've been more reflective than a mirror maze.
I am a coward.
Sure, leaving home to join the Marine Corps took some amount of courage, but ever since then, life has been laid out for me on a silver platter. Only obstacles from obtaining the perfect life in the military were to follow orders and to grow a few layers of skin. I did both and am almost through the currents. But... when it comes to social interactions I am at lost. Still don't know how to hold a proper conversation without feeling awkward or at lost for things to say, unless if we really connect or if it's a one-on-one deal. Or if I had the alcoholic cheat code but that's another story altogether. What I do, though, is take notes by people watching and learning from past mistakes. I'll carry my tiny black Moleskine and jot down interesting quotes, fascinating (at least in my eyes) details about their life or from garnering a different lens of the world and scribbling down what ideas I might have for the next conversation, or for my novel at that.
When it comes to conflicting values or big boy decisions, I shiver in my boots with a dry throat. Standing up for myself hasn't come easy either. It's days like today, as I linger here in the afternoon chill, that I wish I knew what I was doing.
It's also been a year since my break-up with Taiko.
But I feel this is necessary to share with him, even now after being a year together with my current boyfriend. I also strangely feel like adding in the not-so-important detail that I bought my first car (don't ask, it's a Corolla). But life has been a lot more interesting now that things are beginning to come full circle with the revitalization of my former glasses of imagination and values. Rather than waste away each evening with video games like my old roommate who would throw temper tantrums at his PS4 and have to replace a controller darn near every month, I spend it in solitude reading a book with some ambient music playing softly under dim lights. With my makeshift king bed which is really two twins pushed together, it feels grand yet lonesome every night as the time ticks away of this beauty. Calls with my English boyfriend help some, but can't quite shake the obvious fact that he's not here with me in the moment. That we'll only see each other maybe once a year if we're lucky. No dakimakuras could replace the warmth of another to keep you company at night. As I make my nightly tea, all I can think about now is how much time I let slip by.

I am a coward, and this has to cease.

20200128

It's the new year. For once, in the three years since I've been enlisted, I am tightening the grasp I have on the magnitude of life. I have to get angry, furious by all the years I've spent in limbo, wondering where to go or when to act, all those lackluster attempts dissolved by the harsh reality that resides from the day-to-day activities.

20200131

What are you? A narcissist in some people's eyes. An obsessive egotistical maniac who'll compulsively attach to whatever glimmer of attention, relief, pain-killer he could sack without any repercussions. I don't know why I haven't written my book yet. I don't know where I need to go or what to do. I'm surprised I haven't offed myself yet, but I know that will only harm those I love.

Where are those values you once held? That standard of greatness that could only come from a dedicated student of life like yourself? I am a....

No one knows. Not even I, and this cycle will only continue making revolutions until I do something about it.

20200219

Something tells me I'm doing something wrong. What might that be? Living a life only half told. Hiding the true you yet beheld by the daylight of the community you enrich yourself and breathe in. You are not yourself, and you know full well of that and still refuse to act beyond murmuring in the crowd of society. You chose to blend in and look where that has gotten you. If you could see the man behind the curtain you would do a double take at this person and see if he really is the same individual you loved. I am not a genius, but I have something to offer, and I will leave a legacy with or without you in aid. The path remains unchanged either way.

20200225

The Transition Readiness Seminar really does leave you pondering. For those that may not know what that is, it's a week long course the military mandates those leaving the ranks to join the civilian workforce in order to smooth out the transition process. It retrains you to become one with society, in a sense.


20200307

I was almost out of the military. On my way to grab groceries, I got the call from my mother. I could've been there for my father. His last request to me was to attend the wedding for his niece not even two weeks ago. In hindsight, I never thought that would've been my last chance of seeing him, and I missed it, too. Specifically, I recall him saying "Come on. Just this one, and no mas." It had more of a literal meaning than I anticipated.


A few weeks later, I'm back home again. This time, my mother cleaned up the place. In the corner of the living room sat a bed. Grandmother used to sleep there and whenever she wasn't feeling well, she would make some tea or cook something for the morning. It was also common for her to turn on the television to watch some EWTN. I remember she would stand a foot from the glowing screen and gawk at whatever was playing, the majority of what she retained was auditory since she only had one functioning eye from complications with her diabetes.
Even now, I feel like I've never left. The majority of the time I've visited almost everything is the same. Friends still in the same place, same old buildings, same people, etc. Well, almost. A few new stores rose where the sad reminder of old ones sat during my high school years. A few new people I've acquainted myself with during this visit. The cold month of March wasn't as polluted with snow as I've known this place to be. With the pandemic ongoing, the funeral was held with limited people, and the normal arrangement of chairs were scattered to meet the six feet apart regulation. 

    Upon meeting at the cemetery, it just came to realization that my father was going to be buried adjacent to my grandmother. They never could quite get along, but now, they'll be next-door neighbors in heaven. I was in my dress blues, madly trying to keep my composure knowing full well that this is it. I never wanted to leave any regrets with my father. After years of childhood mistreatment, the older I grew, the more welcoming and forgiving he's been. When I enlisted in the military, that's when his character changed for the better. No longer an alcoholic, (with the exception of the occasional beer or two), he saw me as his son and loved me profoundly for the pride he held of having a Marine in his family.  Apart from the presents I provided, he bought a USMC flag, license plate, and a frame to hang up my boot camp photo. Each visit from then on I felt bashful seeing the display. 

    When it came time to bring the casket to the burial site, one of the staff members suggested we three brothers to help out. Bill, who originally offered aid, was casted aside. This is our father, so we'll be with him every last step. I grabbed the lower left-hand side of the railing as the others readied. It was at this moment that the dam of my eyes burst. He had many years of life ahead of him if he weren't so stubborn to risk it all simply because he didn't want to pay the bills if my family had called an ambulance. That stubbornness costed him more than just an envelope from the hospital. 
 

20200711

Only three more months until I'm done. No more field days, no more collateral responsibility, no more nonsense. Well, that last part is unavoidable, but I'll be able to carry forth my ambitions to the next chapter. College. Where the atmosphere is brimming with knowledge and creativity. I plan on pursuing a Bachelor's degree of Design and Media arts over at University of Nevada, Las Vegas. On a side but important note, I need to work more on my novel. Now that I have a room all to myself, there are no distractions other than the ones I create. A roommate helps channel my focus towards my objectives, but having solitude so serene is another plus. 

    I used to be an avid reader. The library was my sanctuary. Its quiet walls home to a world of knowledge bursting from the spines of the wealth of books to be found. Sometimes I would stay until sun down or closing hour, whichever came first. The librarians were kind enough to do their end of day routine without disturbing the few who remained until it was time to shut down. A few patrons I knew by name only from the many encounters I witnessed as they checked out movies or books. I hardly ever socialized there, unless if it was game night, which I also seldom attended. 

20201012

Eleven more days until I'm done, yet it doesn't feel like the end is near.  I have yet to carry out the painting that I promised my former supervisor SSgt Marshall on the walls of the office. Almost complete, but it requires plenty of work. Yesterday, I rummaged through every drawer to stuff all the undesirables in a worn out suitcase with the zipper broken and rolled that to the dumpster. So many books and knick-knacks remain. I'll have to Tetris everything I own into the small pockets of space in my sedan. Although I originally had plans to see Pilot Shep for my three day weekend, they crumbled the day before I set out. When he messaged me initially, I instantly jumped to the conclusion that this weekend wouldn't work out, but never voiced that suspicion. My hypothesis came true. Yet, it was for a legitimate reason of him potentially having caught COVID-19.  We rescheduled it to the weekend before my birthday to celebrate the ensuing event. Can't help but share a smidge of a frown with that news. 

Maryland, here I come.  

I didn't think that I'd ever be questioning my own sanity. The more I want to dismiss the voices in my head, the more I wonder if they're more than just inner dialect. 

My shop, consisting of only four people. I was the extra one on my way out. 

20201024

The day came and went. Towards the final hours, I was met with bittersweet goodbyes and heartfelt embraces as I collected my belongings to move on to the next chapter in life. I remember back in high school when I was talking to my friend Patrick at the lunch table. It was the last day of school. He asked the traditional question of what my plans were after graduation. I told him I wanted to stay as far away from the military, and to pursue a degree in filmmaking or creative writing. Little did I know I'd volunteer to enlist simply because a recruiter reached out to me. The scrawny, shy boy I once was was transformed, forever will my dedication to my cause, the grit I've learned through hardships 

and the tests of courage all created a me I never thought I'd dream of becoming. The final few signatures at the IPAC, and I was on my way. Well, not before one last hoorah at B-Dubs. Although the dam of my eyes hasn't bursted yet, I know when I wake up to routine at four in the morning, the camouflage I once wore will be riddled with dust and a heavy heart. I will never forget the stunt I pulled at the Marine Corps ball. That was a world of fun. Or the stupid field days every Thursday. The meatheads I won't miss at the gym, clanging their weights and grunting like it's good sex, but it was a nice sight at least. With sadness but a wealth of hope, I turn the page and embrace for what's to come for my next chapter.  I will miss the military, despite all my complaining. 

It'll be quite the task to keep the momentum going. I cannot lose sight.

Leaf: Winter, Snowflake

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. 

-Lao Tzu

I haven't called my family in eons. At five thirty in the morning, my father pinged me to video chat. I had slept early today, so, I figured, why not? It's been so long, in fact, I haven't realized that my older brother (only by two years) was living in something of a foster home but for those with special needs. He has his own room, and the caretakers show. teach him how to become independent. My father got a new job with a different company who looks to be stable and promising in the workforce. My mother got her job back at American Girl. She was fired from it previously, to which I blame myself for having dropped her off late. The little brother is still his goofy, odd self. It was sometime last week when he was caught by the police in North High School's soccer field with another friend. Court day is sometime next week. Other than that, we chatted for a good while. He caught me up to speed with the family, and shared some stories of his carpeting adventures. It brought about an overwhelming calm to me when I talked to him. I never realized how bitter, high-strung and yucky I felt until I saw the face of my father. Maybe that's what I needed. Family. Some place I can call home.

It was round two of counseling. My admin chief noted that I seemed sad, given I was trying to wave that off with an obviously halfhearted smile. He prodded, continued to poke until I gave in. I told him it was a breakup. and that's when the dam of a storyteller burst at the seams. He went into a few stories, mainly ones involving hookups and his many encounters with shallow, insincere women. Heck, he even suggested I tap into my bisexuality and try women for a bit, "grab their ass and feel their titties. See what it's like to get some pussy, know what I'm sayin'?" As crude as that sounded, I just laughed internally. I've never been with a woman before and don't know how I feel with this avenue of exploration. Last time I remember almost going into a relationship with someone of the female gender was back in the ninth grade. I was strolling down the sidewalk, breathing in the shining lake and aromatic, nutty autumn when I sat down to write a poem. I was then approached by two people, one of them introduced herself and stood by the bench I sat at. She wanted ideas, inspiration for a poem to submit for a contest. That was the special dressing on the lasagna. I'll gladly help out! Awwww. So, she got comfortable enough to sit by me and we chittered about why we love poems, what sort of poetry we write, our days in school, etcetera. The following weekend, we scheduled a day to really bring home the spinach (I love me some greens) and get to work on those poems. Nope. Instead, at the park, we did a bunch of other things but that. I brought my laptop and showed her my photos I took over the years. We exchanged comments on a few noteworthy pieces, having a particular fondness of the goslings piece. After a bit, we walked around and saw this delicious hill that begged to be rolled down. So we did, and nearly landed in a natural landmine. Still on the ground, her dog (about as big as I was) flopped on her face and wiggled from side to side. We got a hearty chuckle from that. As we strolled past the playground, grabbing a stick, she poked my cheek. I ran back to return the affection, and from there, we played tag, hiding behind the slide, rolling in the mulch, swinging on the swings and enjoying the evening sun. It was one of the most fun I had in a while. It brought about this sense of free-flowing wonder, where I saw in bold beauty the magnificence of the world in the small, frabjous joys of the day. It was enough to bring a tear to my eye, the glory of it all.
With a hug, we parted. We met again for a picnic but that was the last I'd see from her. She moved far from her home by the park and found a girlfriend to call her own.

I didn't expect that, but I was happy for her.

July 22, 2018

When I woke up, I had three things in mind, dodgeball, masturbation (the idea of, not to go practice)  and a wedding.

July 23, 2018

I dreamt of a grand architecturally sound masterpiece of a building, a chapel of rainbow chandeliers, ruined marble tables, sculptures, an entire organ offset by its deteriorating frame, candelabras galore, with windows whose arc grazes the ceiling in stained glass art pieces and tiles polished but spilled with gravel and debris from the building's boulder wound. The green glow of the evening beckoned for a "nightmarifying".  As though I were in a wicked schizophrenic loop, I witnessed and relived the degrading skin of my friends, turning to black char from those I stood by, whom I loved and cared for, they all perished under the spell of the green night. When I searched, a hope, almost seemingly obvious summoned me forward. It was a plushie with a soft halo, each one was significant to the person affected by the charring, a memory that outlives time. Mine was a baby toucan.

July 24, 2018

I was at a house party, or better described as a mansion party. Each room was personalized in a certain color, and I remember one down the hall being an effervescent pink. The walls were turquoise, the layout seemed that of the typical upper echelon of families doing well in the economy. Calm, simple, wooden furniture spotted the interior like polka dots on a red wall. The environment was serene. Looking down, I realized I was wearing my woodland cammies and had a tarp in my back pocket. Only one other wore their military uniform, and they wore blue. The soothing aroma of quiet gradually inclined to a steamy one. Although it seemed every room had some action going on, I was never approached, nor did I want any. I escaped to the garage and socialized with another.

(I briefly woke to rotate my laundry, then had another dream.)

I was late to church! As I hurried I gently opened the front doors and saw two men stomping soda cans. Easing my way to the back door, I saw an open bench and was squeezed tight with another incoming family. When I peered to my right at a woman in pink and white attire, I stared, unbelievingly. It was my grandmother. She huddled right beside me and took a seat, smiling gently like I remember, eyes squinting happily to the front, then to me.

I'm nothing special, yet  I know there aren't any other quite like me, scientifically and metaphorically. There are avenues to life that I have yet discovered through my lack of initiative and persistence, courage to overcome my anxiety of change, memories of routes untaken to haunt my drive, and the mistakes that are no longer mistakes, but selfish betrayals of my hopes to learn, strive, be the person I want to be. Almost daily I've been having dreams with the same themes over and over; being chased, dawn, flight, rudeness, friends, nightmares, love, darkness, opportunities, a new beginning, hope, challenge, courage and hardship. It's taking a good chunk of courage to leave the life I left behind and have it stay that way. Some days I get frantic and lose my mind, forgetting what, who I'm fighting for. Other days I get so lost I step outside to remember the horizon. Remember the horizon. Then there was one dream that continues to pop in my mind, church. When, in the dream I attended, my grandmother walked in and sat right next to me, pink and blind as ever, but smiling her soft heart at me. Some days I think about her, and end up missing her. She was there for every game my brothers and I played, through every tantrum I threw, through all my birthdays and visits home after I got stationed in South Carolina. She taught me to always remain faithful, even through the worst of times. Maybe if I attended church, I'll get to see her again. I remember on her last day, she recognized my sobbing voice through video chat and told me to always pray with God, stay educated, and... ugh, what was the last part?
With all this sin building up like cholesterol, I'm surprised my soul hasn't had a heart attack.
It's time to go back to church.

Leaf: Winter, Frozen

"

Any fool can be happy. It takes a man with real heart to make beauty out of the stuff that makes us weep. - Clive Barker

July 12, 2018

8:35 p.m.

Work was okay. I slumped through it nonchalantly and thought about the next step to improving my character. I was observing my behavior with a magnifying glass, noting how I'll breathe a bit faster if something discomforted me, look around if I'm confronted with a difficult situation, refer to the pacifier of my phone if I didn't want to face the awkwardness of vulnerability. After walking home, I pumped some iron, did laundry, and ate a bag of popcorn. I wonder about many things. Sometimes I'll snoop in the dustier areas of a story, looking into the tender spots of someone's past to learn more about them, as well as myself. 

July 13, 2018

6:44 a.m.

Staying on track is harder than I thought. There are moments I want to relapse into the corrosion that dragged me down all this time. If I am surrounded by water, it's only a matter of time until I get wet. It's time to remove the negative influences to my progressive change. 

July 15, 2018

10:14 p.m.

Oh, how I wonder, how my fleeting heart screams and the morning dwells in silence. 

I had another dream. This one involves a pastor at some point, spider webs, my mother asking me about my phone charger, how it was smaller but more reliable, walking in the snow, and online college. My little brother was somewhere in that mix. 

"On Friday we'll get Culver's" - my mother to me in this dream

The family was repainting the apartment white. It was already a light shade of gray, but a brighter hue would make the place look a little bit more welcoming. A few extra people roomed with us. My aunt Mary, a Corporal I knew from my first unit at 6th Marine Corps District HQ, my younger brother, me, and there might've been someone else.  I remember being followed and I had to take a detour at a nearby school. That mysterious someone set up a trap that attracted spiders. As I brushed off the webs and hopscotched my way through, backpacks littered the hallways. It was autumn, the beginning of the school year. As all my friends flittered towards the home of learning, I had no place to go. Online college seemed like the way to go.

     At home I would tiptoe around the place until it was 28:00 (it made sense to me in the dream). I went to one of the remote hallways to open the door for one of the painters. There were a few paintings whose memory was shadowed on the wall when they were removed. The hallway had a portable picnic table and a laptop. This was set in another futuristic city, but the main focus was better public transportation. A dog was there. Snow and the blinding sun. 

July 18, 2018

12:47 a.m.

I dreamt I was running around in the yard, as my younger brother and I took turns chasing each other, jumping fences, climbing houses, traveling the seas in one big game of tag.I dreamt of a game pad that had thumbprint identification to help secure purchases. Certain places had to be unlocked. The world was our playground. 

July 19, 2018

5:49 p.m.

"You have potential, but that means nothing without the drive behind it."

I got my semiannual pros and cons markings. For those unaware, it's pretty much like a parent-teacher conference where the teacher will sit down with you and chat about how well/not so well your child is doing and what they can do to either improve, change or continue doing. I didn't get an ace score, for I got a pros and cons marking of 4.3/4.3. They go up to 5.0. To me It's like a C+ in the American grading scale. Not too hot and barely above satisfactory. It's a measurement on not only how well you do in the military, but it also is an askew measurement of your life when looking through a toilet roll. I don't go out much, and when I do, it's not volunteering or running. I do that on my own right outside by the water (I live on an island). I have a green belt in the Marine Corps Martial Arts Program (or MCNinja as we Lance Coconuts like to call it). Could be better. My Physical Fitness Test score is also not as good as I know I can make it. My senior then goes into a story of The Parable of the Talents.  In short, God entrusted three of his servants with talents, to one five talents, the next two, and the final one. The one with ten talents went out and doubled his talents, as did the second one with two. The lonesome final servant with but one hid his and did nothing with it. When God summoned them all, he praised all but the last servant, banishing him, forcing him to surrender the one talent to the talented one saying "For to everyone who has will more be given, and he will have an abundance. But from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away."

From all of these observations. The dreams I had, the notes I took, the chats I had with friends, my own reflections, here's what I have come up with so far:

I am running away from my problems, avoiding them out of fear. I am being closeminded about the possibilities out there, to the help I really need. Deep down, I know I am scurrying away from myself.  There are some things I have hidden so far in the dark chambers of my heart that I don't know where all the cracks in the dam are anymore. I see one major one that I'm currently trying to fix, and that is media and lust addiction. I'll have insatiable drives overpower me like a full moon for lycanthropes. Now, when people try to flirt with me, I cringe, trying to cool the mood to a friendly conversation rather than a steamy locker room party. There are still plenty of things to work on, but I am taking steps to be conscious about them, organizing a game plan on tackling them, documenting my observations and most importantly, seeking help when needed. I tried climbing this mountain on my own. After years of struggling, my growing number of bruises from falling so often left me crippled, scared to even look up to the summit, for that's where the fear stems from. Change. Challenge. Effort. I need all the help I can get, and thankfully, my friends and family are but a message away. 

My shovel wears as does my heart, mind, body and soul with every mound set aside. The more I unearth, the more courage it takes to dig deeper, and I find buried rocks that take even greater means to reveal to continue the mission. It's a process, but a necessary one to get to the core of my troubles, but the grounds are frozen from the neglect of my light. Every strike to the ground takes twice as much effort, and the colder I get gnawing away the ice. 

I think about you every day, Taiko, and you are the warmth I need to melt the permafrost. 

Leaf: Winter, Coldfront

July 8, 2018


9:49 a.m.
The night prior I needed, for it was a relief of the barricade I built for love, spirit and happy go-lucky joy from being harmed by the world around me. It was a 4th of July party, a furry one at that. I was looking forward to it for weeks, anticipating to see my beloved furiends once more and to unleash the beast of child-like energy I reserved. As far as food went, me being the "speshal" one as I like to say, there wasn't much a vegetarian could nom besides sugary or salty snacks. We made it at a good time as people were just starting to filter in. Awkward at first, the security for my heart's fort softened as time went on, eventually the stone cage was destroyed altogether the more I socialized and befriended folks. By the end I was twirling in fluff, sandwiched into the safety of my soft and fluffy friends in suit, dancing, hopping, wriggling and giggling until I had to jump out of my fur. I was sweating through the fabric, so cuddles wasn't as enticing to others as much. In all, it's the positive, enriching experience I was starving for all this time. Being bored in my room funks my mind in corrupt and sad ways, sometimes to the point where I don't recognize myself anymore.
Now, I'm going to grab some breakfast with my friend. Should be a wonderful day.

8:48 p.m.
I tried to catch the sunset as I packed my laptop, filling my shaker bottle with tea. The area I normally went to sit by the water and appreciate the sun wasn't optimal. The beauty lied west, and I was far from it. I am trying to destress and listen to nature, absorbing it all I could appreciating the snapshot of green serenity on my balcony. The lavender glow of the sidewalk, the dying light of ember saddened me, for its a paragon of artistic perfection.

I went because I couldn't calm myself. I needed time to think, and with my roommate's blaring piano, I had to leave. The thoughts in mind were dangerous. In fact, they felt real, and the matter scared me. That matter was suicide, and after talking to my ex, only time could tell how much longer I was going to think about it. The small specs of gold in the mound of dirt I am, maybe that's what people see in me.

10:43 a.m.
Ex:
You can do it harl

That was his last message. Then this conversation sprung.

Ex: You will never change >_>
Me: What?
Ex: You and ski
Me: Mmm.
Ex: Your still doing what you say you hate, All about sex, Nothing else
Me: :(
Ex: Its just a little hurtful is all
After your big msg and blog
And how i mean to you
Now feels empty
Lost
Another lie
Its getting impossiable to believe
In you
The hurlful thing is you are still doing what broke us apart and like we never happened
Thats what it looks and feels like
That i was and am nothing to you
Me: But you are my everything!
Ex: Hahah not really
Ive seen nothing to prove this
Or prove of you changing
You still just sleeping around with people who only want to be around you for sex
Me: :/
Hmmm.
That hurts :(
Ex: Im sorry
Im just hurt
Me: I am too.
Ex: Why are you
Its just you acting like nothing has changed and youve always been single :(
Didnt mean to upset you
Me: It's okay. I deserve it.
Ex: No one deserves it
Me: Of anyone here, I need to learn a lesson.  I've probably lost my last chance at a relationship. There is no means to living if I don't have you. I've hurt enough people, lost a wealth of friends for my actions, lost as much time as I did due to my belligerence, procrastination, sporadic and unreasonable behavior, went against the word of God, disappointed my family, the list goes on. My ex's friend said this was how he saw me, even though we never met: "He's a tourist. He vacations in people's lives, takes pictures, puts 'em in a scrapbook, and moves on. All he's interested in are stories. Basically, Will, he's selfish." I don't know. I act in ways even I can't understand. At work, I sought trouble just to make life interesting. I hated it, but I did it, even though life could've been easier on me. When at a friendly gathering, I'll have an enriching time where I'm bouncing off the walls and being the goofball I am, only to step outside to cry for whatever reason. When I was with family, I'd lose their trust for I don't talk to them much, even though I love them. I am selfish, and incredibly so. Like the sun, I'm only to be enjoyed from a far. I don't know why I do the things I do sometimes, but people shouldn't be affected negatively by my curiosities.
I don't want to hurt anymore people than I already have. If you want to see change, I'll change, starting with something I prolonged for years now. I guess I seek things that promote stimulation, either positively or its counterpart, for it keeps me alive and thinking, otherwise I fall to a stupor of nothingness, because my mind is messed up beyond repair. I was raised by my mother to be loving, where I always had someone to come home to and tell my story, where I could retire to the serenity of the nearby park and appreciate that moment as it was, by the lake, sunset tinting the sky to a refreshing pink, the autumnal forest that surrounds the area a fiery palette of gold, and breathe. In high school, although I was quiet, I was surrounded by a stimulating atmosphere of learning and opportunity, and that inspired me greatly. Although I had no friends, I had that alpenglow of school. Now, there isn't much to provoke my mind. I know I can seek it, but I need people smarter than me to feed from. There's but a grain of nutrients in the dry soil here, and I don't see it of any worth, but it's what I have for now.
I don't know anymore.
I don't know who I am, what I've become, where I've gone. None of that. Not even nature can calm me as I'm sitting on the stairs like I normally did when I called you. The sunset is lavender, the streets are colored purple, the hint of sky I could see under the peaceful clouds was fiery. I have lost all hope of me ever becoming someone. It's been eons of dead nothingness. I'm just like everyone else, a philosophical zombie just living each day without thinking, feeling, appreciating the bigger beauty that lies just under the surface, never going beyond my comfort zone to indulge in the fruits of life's orchard, hesitant to allow myself to be vulnerable to defeat, struggle, emotion, and discomfort, childish in my ways for I am a fool in the making.
I can't take back what I've done, and of the broken glass, the pieces have been crushed beyond recognition.
My ex was right. You were right. What was the beauty you saw in me? It's all an act, as you say. I don't care about anyone but myself. I was better without friends for I didn't hurt anyone. There isn't much to salvage from the scrapyard I am.
I always wanted to take a psychological screening back eight years ago, for I thought something wasn't right about me. Now I know that for a fact. Practically all of my sentences begin with or have an "I" or some other variant of that pronoun. Thanks for helping me realize how much of a narcissist I am, and I don't mean that sarcastically. I have an AD to feel better about myself, for deep down the cold coal of my heart burns momentarily to provide heat, people enjoy it and go, leaving nothing but ash and blackness, only to be replace by more coal to continue the cycle of a belied warmth.
 I know you have been talking to Don for he messaged me. But that's fine. Nothing matters anymore.
My rambling is over. Hear from me again or not. I don't know anymore.
Thanks for seeing the hint of gold in the rough of me.
(Don is the person we agreed to not talk to, for he only brought bitterness in that I didn't choose him as a significant other.)

Ex: *sigh*
Me: What?
Ex: What did don say
Me: [Forwarded from Don]
I heard what happened with you and Taio, I'm sorry it didn't work out.
Look I honestly don't care what you did and I'm not here to chastise you at all. The only thing I'm saying is that I've lost a lot of whatever respect I had for you. But I'll talk to you and such.
This hasn't affected me seeing you as a friend though.
But what you did wasn't fair on Taio even though LDR almost never workout.
I would still like to be friends though.
Ex: He is not all bad i guess
Harl
The old you is still in there deep deep down ^_^ thats what i saw in you and thats what i still believe. You can become the person you want to be but you will never change if you still stay round those people you never wanted to be.....those people who use people for sex and nothing more....those people you call friends but is not true friends. They are just people who want to use people for selfish gain
Me: I'm crying....
I hate myself because I just wanted to be accepted, and that led me to the wrong people, changing me for the worse, not for the better.
Ex: Dont cry
People need to accept you for you
Not for your body or sex
These people should learn the real you
Not you being what they want
You need to be what you want
Then the bad people will leave
The good and true friends will stay
Me: I've hidden the real me for so long, I don't even know if it's there anymore.
Ex: It is there
You just need to not be scared of losing these people
And take the leap
Push past the wall you have made around yourself
Become the person you was proud of
Me: Hm. Take the leap. Break down my walls. Don't be scared....
Taiko, I'm terrified of the reality of it all. I'm afraid I've buried myself deeper than I can climb out.
Ex: Fear is stopping your happiness and others too
You only get one life
Why waste it with fear of what others think who cares what others think? Your true friends will stick by you. The others will leave but thats their loss
Its your life, your happiness, your future
Do things for you
Not to just fit in
And not given what everyone else wants from you
But doing what you want from you
Harl i hope my words have helped
I would give more
But
Its 3:30am
I need sleep ^_^;
I stayed up to help you
But im so tired ^_^;
Look feel free to msg me tomorrow ill always be around for you
Me: Your words have more than helped, Taiko. I knew I saw something in you, that you could help me return to my wholesomeness. Thank you for sticking with me as much as I've disappointed and hurted you. You mean a lot to me, and I love you.
Tweet dreams, Taiko. I'll message you when you get up.
I appreciate everything you are.
Ex: Ni ni harl i hope you sleep well and yeah ill wait for your msg ^_^ *hugs* thank you for the kind words
Me: *Hugs* Thank YOU for being wonderfluff ❤️
You're the real superstar here!

(Soundtrack: Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri)


July 9th, 2018

9:00 a.m.
When I woke, I had dreamed of a message, an objective. "Let's be honest to those that only see me as a toy, nothing more." With that in mind, I set forth to amend my wrongdoings and learn from my mistakes. I'll show them I can change. That was all I remembered from my dream. Nothing else seemed relevant.

10:05 p.m.
Though, I spent most of the day in slumber, recovering from a major headache, I dreamed. When I dream, something is going right, and I am making progress in some way, some how.

(Soundtrack: New Soul by Yael Naim)

July 10th, 2018 

Today didn't feel like an extraordinary day. I woke up groggily to the glowing red stars in my room. Dehydrated, I switched on the lights to force myself to wake. I could've gone to the gym, but, seeing there was only an hour left of time, I might as well make the most of it in my room. Push ups, pull ups, sit ups, uplifting stuff. If I'm going to change, I'll keep a log of my progress, here. I checked in with the ex:

Me: I had another dream, that someone was hunting me down in a talent show as I was using a miniature skateboard. They were trying to capture me in an asylum or institution. I drank this potion that granted invisibility for a moment. I escaped the futuristic building, and flew to a shelter, rested until he found me, distracted him by turning on a nearby computer and fled again, flying as far away as I could from it all, the greenery below was a rich neighborhood with mostly trees and generously large housing, flat and neat. It was nearly the winter holiday with string lights decorating the suburb as I soared into the endless dawn.
My last dream I told you about told great truth from it, and I was surprised I didn't take its meaning seriously. It signified There was going to be a great moral decision to come, and that there will be consequences with the decision it anticipated.
It foreshadowed what was to come, and I didn't listen.
I was oblivious to submission, and it became my downfall.
The dreams I have scare me by how much it pertains to, relates to, and provides insight to my life, as if it serves as a guide, nudging my feet to a certain direction if I feel lost, am making progress and need advice, going the wrong way or something different altogether. It is strange, but they're very meaningful. If I had listened to what they warned me about and followed their guidelines, things could've been different.
Anywho, good morning to your fluffy butt ❤️
Ex: Good morning harl
Me: What's on the agenda for today?
Ex: Gym, friends over, games
Me: Ah. Fun! I've work, gym, and reading/writing to do.
Ex: Thats good ^_^
Me: I'm feeling a lot better about this dream than my last one. It's telling me that I am giving a call for help, but it's also saying that I'm into a new era of me, a transition into a new leaf. A lot of my problems are scaring me, but help is there, and in turn, I'm making an effort into an entirely new life I'll be happy with.
Ex: Well you need to not give into lust so easily
^_^
Me: You put it so simply :p
Ex: Is that bad
?
Me: Naw, it's more than that, but I appreciate the insight <3
Ex: Well all i see is your naughty side
Post nudes
Sexing around
Flurting all the time
Its hard not to see that side
When thats the only side i see on everything
Telegram
Twitter
Etc
Me:  Hmmm.
You're right.
Ex: So if thats all i see thats all anyones sees
Me: True, true. Hmmm.
Ex: But you keep wanting sex and to be a slut
You was so upset and sad and all that stuff the other day saying all you said to me
Then 4 hours earlier to you back to slutting again with a pic on your AD
Your words are nothing but air and noise
You say all this stuff but you never do anything to change or show change
You just say that stuff to make yourself feel better at the time, then next day you go back to pimping yourself out and seeking sex.......its a pointless never ending cycle
Me: :(
But I want to change.
Ex: Words are nothing without actions
And i feel like im wasting my time and efforts on someone you doesnt give a shit
Me: Awrph :(
Ex: You know everything ive said is true
Deep down you dont want to change
You are just saying it so people dont look bad on you
You love being a slut and being seen as that
Its a huge turn on for you
You dont want to lose that
You dont want to change
You want to be one of those fur who are forever seen as a slut in the fandom like felix fox
Well congrats your doing great
I need to go ive got stuff to do
Have a good day
Me: Have a good day.
Ex: Hope you have a good think then get back to me

(Soundtrack: In My Mind by Amanda Palmer)

4:46 p.m.

Barracks Duty.

I've all night here. Perfect time to start some reflection.

Hmm. In order to change, I need to step out of my comfort zone, something to which I haven't done in years since I first started. 

I need to focus and stop being the selfish monster I am. No more sin. There's more to life than falling into the siren's call. What am I doing with myself? I've been in the same place since I first started this blog. Sure, I joined the Marine Corps, but other than that, I'm no better than before I joined. I'd say I've worsened, really. Read up on my self-help books, journal my thoughts, stay healthy and be active, step outside of my comfort zone, and more.

July 11th, 2018

7:14 p.m.
I was young once. My imagination beautiful, my soul untethered by the drama of my consequences, my heart limitless like the sky and my energy plentiful. I played The Awesome Adventures of Captain Spirit and couldn't help but feel a bit of remorse for how adventurous, creative, free-spirited and joyful the protagonist, Chris, was. It captured the active and inspiring eyes of a boy who is his own superhero. I remembered the days when I was like that with my plush birds. Robin, a plush bird, and I went everywhere and anywhere. He was my best friend when I was at home, with the exception of my brothers. School, the local zoo, car trips to Lake Superior, I even created a world for this bitty bean of feathers. That's the setting where my current novel takes place. A forest of birds who all resemble flying potatoes. The book hasn't been touched in years since my fire quieted, or, since I gave up trying if I really think about it.  Hmm.

Then I remembered what my ex said to me, "Make the leap."
There are so many leaps to make, I might as well be on a floating island. I started reading the self-help book "Braving the Wilderness" by Brene Brown. In it, I found a quote that says a lot in the few words it uses: "Strong Back. Soft Front. Wild Heart."
As I progress through the book, my anxious mind settles to a soft realization that I am more broken than I thought I was. I haven't lived in all that time I spent distracting myself with "pacifiers", things that allowed an escape from confronting emotions, situations or ongoing problems that I was too scared or refused to face. It was a dawn of discovery, and the more I am freeing myself from the webs that held me secure, the more beauty I see in the path I am walking, and the more I understand what I need to do in order to change my life to appreciate the person I am deep down amongst all that rubbish I dug myself into. Today I took a walk out by the water, one of the benefits of living on an island. As I tuned into this one podcast about optimal living, I took mental notes about key things to focus on:
Observe my behavior: What are some things I do that show my disconnection with my true self? I check my phone about as often as I look up. When uncomfortable, I'll pull out my flat screened pacifier and tap away.
Take time off and manage my time on electronics: Have breaks frequently and make room for things that really matter, not Twitter posts, emails, or forum updates. Talk to your close and true friends. Take photos. Draw. Read. Repeat with whatever it is that is wholesome and endearing to you.
Meditate: When I sit in a room alone, I'll fiddle with the nearest object. If I took a step back and allowed my mind to wander in a proactive path, I'll find stories I overlooked when I was "too busy" to breathe, memories that I suppressed, obstacles I never knew I had to face or avoided so often I forgot they existed altogether, and so on. Meditation will provide the gateway to a deeper and more meaningful life. An hour a day can go a long way.
Create your story: One particular point I listened in retraced my mind to the memoir I had in the works. It said to think of all the different ways you can interpret your life, and write them down. Do this often enough to where you are comfortable telling your story with others. When I joined the Marine Corps, I wanted more material for my story. Now, with a full mind and patient heart, it's time to write that story and get a grasp of myself. As played out and as cheesy as this is, I can put my mind to anything's possibility. All I have to do is follow my feet down those roads to get that desired new life just beyond the sunrise.
Surround yourself with people who you can inspire from: If you are constantly with those that put you down, try to change who you are, peer pressure you into situations and choices that you're not okay with, remove them from your life. They'll only bring you back and kick that drive out of you. Oh, I so need to get on top of this. I've spent my days with folks that bored my mind, provoked me to become this persona I never wanted to be, yet I fell for their hospitality. I just wanted to fit in, and my, did I do just that, neglecting my ultimate passions.

Taiko, I'm starting to see that canyon I so desperately needed to leap. This is my charge before the grand jump.

(Soundtrack: Welcome to the Black Parade by My Chemical Romance) 

Leaf: Autumn

Whoever is careless with the truth in small matters cannot be trusted with important matters.

-Albert Einstein

(Note: Much of the content is unfinished. As the moment passes, my inspiration in its creation also flies, and the less I'll remember from the occasion.)

A resolution I plan on making is to be more wholesome in my life. There is no direct list that I am referring to, as this year, I will make things simple. Although I did resolve most of my aspirations last year, there was something that I didn't do. And no, inner voice inside my head, its not that I hadn't sold any art pieces. It was that I wasn't being wholesome. I didn't express myself fully, and now, look where that has taken me. I am anxious when I hold that bundle of whatever form of energy I have inside. Like water, I must rise above the tensions the situations may hold, and be pure in my expression. And so this is my start to the new year. Not another day in the life of Daniel James Marquez, no. Every day feels like this! I am concerned about what I can mold the mornings into. There is a peace in this.

Six months later...

June 30th, 2016

I have quite the load to catch up with you.

Gotta live life well,
Shout beyond your horoscope and
Try your might in
sheer delight when
one sees the path
of everlasting glorification of yourself.


October 14th, 2016

I cannot explain what atrocities have happened to my writing enigma. That sentimental load unfolds whenever I pick up my trusty pen, and I allow my thoughts to bleed into the ink that stains white. Whenever I am here, in the fronts of my intense state of imagination. Those loose cotton strands twirl in the air before they land somewhere on the face of the internet if lucky, otherwise, the wind is unforgiving and pushes their existence elsewhere. That state of mind is where my lumping mind lies. It's been bad, and I mean bad.
Rewind to before Marine Combat Training and even before boot camp, I was an utter mess. Nothing out of the ordinary sort of horror, just the daily Joe without a sense of direction desiring the missing pages from point A to point C in life. Something was amiss, and I couldn't detect what sort of entity interrupted my flow of progress. I couldn't see further than my two front feet when it came to the future. All I cared about was getting to work on time, reading, creating and company. Along with veggies. The moment I realized I wanted to do something more in my life was the pinnacle of a revolution. A summer bleated by, unnoticed. Bored out of my mind and running out of time, I was desperate for a fix to my year. I didn't want an unproductive year of melancholy and work. No, and despite my hatred for such thing, it seized my novel and ran away with its written form. I hardly ever just sat down and did something. A mentor was what I so needed.
Then I received a message as I browsed Facebook intensely distracted.  . I hesitatingly answered "yes" to my recruiter. That was perhaps the biggest example of my being too nice I've agreed to.


The screaming, the wrath of tension, the restless nights like that of a horror movie, all of it, as I laid in my rack staring beyond the ceiling, I couldn't help but wonder how real was my reality. Yes, this is actually happening. No, I cannot wish away the pain. Already, my mind yearned for the lonesome mornings of solitude hoping for the world to blink and remember the past as the present. Here we go, I thought. This will be the defining moment of my true ambition, something to reignite the engine of my drives and the will of my determined spirit. I never realized how awake I was until that very moment.

Then my life changed from then on.
I woke up to a challenge I've been waiting for since as far as I can remember. Sixth grade, even.

The more I learn, the more I am changed, and the more I regain from and overcome my former self. This is what it means to be educated. To love to learn and to englid the glory of expanding one's horizons, and see the airglow of everlasting life.

One regret is how little I wrote, and the miniscule amounts I was able to pull off during those three weeks is an insignificant amount. There needs to be a regulation in my writing, one without the craft has to have another medium to express himself or herself. My mind spiraled out of control, and the wealth of my well-being has degraded into something of a tornado session at boot camp where we dumped all of our belongings on the floor and shuffled everything around like a card salad.

I stutter, I become frantic, I don't understand and twitch under quivers to just be normal. It's my own ignorance and undisciplined mindset that traversed a healthy body into one that isn't so much, but these twitches have been around for a quite some time, actually. Since I was in elementary school, even. I'd have these spurts of excitement, "wiggling with happiness" I often called it. Whatever happened to that daily innocence that I've so dearly held upon?

When I die, I'd like for there to be a novelty glow, positioned right at the crevice of dayglow, to glorify the effulgence of the sun as I do, and no matter where I shall live on, I'll always bring forth the prevalence of imagination as Disney once did. Humbleness cannot be forgotten with progress.  

Admin School

There is a thing of welcoming definitions that wonders beyond.
It's not often that I find a powerful source of discontent. Rarely do I ever find the curriculum of sin to be so enthralling to my contained dark enigma, but yesterday tells another story. I, rarely do I glance this sort of derogative language, disgust myself. It was a typical sunny afternoon, one that wished for warmth but is shuttered by the laughter of the wind. We stood out in formation and made the time our friend with stravaged conversations and dilly-dallying all the way. Our minds were catawampus, our thirst for adventure trailed the lustful path too often, and our reasoning lay adrift with our common sense. Almost. Hardly anyone was productive with their time, and not in the introverted way I prefer, lounging alone with but a papered companion and nightscape songs to enrich the mind. No, these people were buffs. Anyways, after being dismissed, the Marines rushed to the barrack, gathering around the gunnery sergeant. Private Downs, a Marine who was also from Lima Company, muffled the expected toot of groans. I wasn't myself, which to that I noted something utterly unmannerly. A female nearby rolled up her face in detestation, then it hit me. Who have I become during these past few years? Where has my mind gone to? I don't appear to have a box of respect to care for what future lies ahead, nor for even the immediate tasks ahead. I dress because I am required to be presentable. My laundry hasn't been done in weeks, and there aren't many clothes to wash, either.
To decay the wrath of the monotonous lifestyle and preserve my order, I must learn to be one with my inner calling. It's even in my name, Daniel, which means "Only God is my judge". Sleep in peace, wonder in awe, contemplate with the air, be wholesome in my heart, and never lose that spirit of the wonders of imagination. Be well, live well and make sure that everything is in order with life.
Take nutrition seriously. Now this blog has become an online sticky note wall.


During boot camp, there were several instances where I cracked the slightest of smiles but held my baring at all times. Here are some of those instances:

The senior drill instructor, as buff, powerful and all around insane person he was, gave me the nickname "Oswald" for my resemblance of the character in the show "Gotham".

When we had classroom formation a day before Family Day, the drill instructors had us do impersonations of other drill instructors around the company. One Marine wrote down quotes from every drill instructor in our platoon, and, in turn, had his notebook confiscated out of preserving the memory.

One time a recruit couldn't get his salute right when reporting his post for firewatch, which is a nightly routine of guarding the facility. He was front post, a drill instructor walked on deck, and the mayhem started from there. "Attention on deck! Good-" No, get back! He retries. "Attention on deck! Good evening, sir!" Still no luck. The drill instructor sighs and says "Get that cup out of your hand!" to which the recruit replies "but sir, I am not holding a cup in my hand."

During Marine Combat Training, as I prayed in my rack, my "rackmate" as we called them noticed and leaned over and asked if I was Catholic, to which I replied a short "yeah". His grandmother used to pray with him regularly just like mine had with me nightly. I told him something I hardly share, emotions, as happy as I am, that I missed my family. My grandmother always loved with her might, and was a devout Christian. Lopez then notes "Hey, if you don't see her again, just know that she's gone only for a little bit."
Just a little bit.
As the night dragged on, I slept scrolling through the memory book of my life.


When I imagine, I think of the world. There doesn't exist another planet we love as immensely as this one. No other home can compare the time and efforts we've invested into keeping our home as it is. As time progressed, as maturity settles into the timeline of humanity, slowly that trusting tender touch lost its softness, and more do we forget why Earth is our home. To protect, preserve, and keep the order of the blessings of its creation, we mustn't let go of the immense opportunities that Earth provides. If tomorrow is true, then today must reign in prosperity, for not another moment shall enlid the glories of life.
Beautiful planet blue, infinite minds of truth, we hone our curiosities beyond our own warmth, and preserve the ways of the endlessness we call life. Forever be loved, forever we think.


I never wanted to go as far as I am going in times of peril. There is a longing for me to live a gloriously wholehearted life with sheer joy shared constantly, trying everything I can, never resting within my comfort zone if a chance to push beyond was apparent, and living as imaginatively, seeing and sharing my philosophies and beauties in life as often as I can. Without the life of love, I am nothing. My heart cannot be selfish, for it is too big to fit within my soul. But, as the course of my times here roll on, a vision of dying for a cause lay drift in my manners. To remember loved ones and be remembered as the soul who lifts. Remind me I am not alone, lord, for you await. To leave a legacy of everything I've worked up and do more with the incredible mind I've been bestowed. Lost, I feel. Worried, I dream. Pleased by the intensity of my willpower but not from the lack of dreaming.

March 19th, 2016
19:36
Gosh, how often do I use the internet? To catch up on my grammar, to get out of this spiraling mess of life that is my own, to be more adept to my inner environment, all of that, is what I need. I need. I NEED TO STOP THIS RALPHODIDDLESQUAT.
I did, however, talked to my mother a few hours ago. Mother called as I marched my way to the library, just as I was signing out. My phone buzzed. Looking at the caller ID, it was a familiar heart of fulfillment.
"Yes?" I questioned.
"Mijo! Como estas, Dany?"
"Bien, bien. Y tu?"
The conversation carried on with my feet, eventually surfacing her immigration case, our immigration case, and how she wanted to know whether I sent in all of the materials in the package.
"I did, didn't I?"
She then passed the phone onto my older brother, Robert. Something about his tone was abnormal. He seemed tentative, moreso than before, and hesitant. Before long, he didn't know what to say, and hung up from there.

The phone buzzes. BAGH.


I feel so simple! It's an utter annoyance to be sublimed into such an atrocity of the mind, buried beneath one's own ignorance and never letting forth that shine! Like my fellow subordinates, incompetent of withstanding a wholesome, hearty bite of intellectualism, there isn't much of an aid I can resist. The ways my mind wander aren't as prevalent as they used to be. They're... somewhere in the distance.


Where have I gone?


Who am I? I don't think I know anymore.


March 23rd, 2017
10:40 a.m.
I can't believe I'm still doing the same things I did a month ago, a year ago, even five years ago. No longer am I doing-


March 24, 2017
1:43PM


If I want to know
The ways beyond the truth
If I want to know
How infinite love is.
The times they bind from love
With all things pursued, my dove.
Having at the moor, lift and sound off

March 31st, 2017

1:11 P.M.
I never realized that I hadn't written about my vegetarianism. Even during boot camp, with all the calories I burned, I tried to maintain my fruitful diet, squeezing a meat-free morning daily. Well, almost daily. I was surprised that there were vegetarian MREs when they plopped in our laps. The salty taste is passable. Some of them weren't all that bad, even some being better than the dried meals to go at grocery stores. Out of all of them, I'd say my preferable choice (although I do not favor any as all are equal in my book, one of the discrepancies is how much I prefer some with greater odds than others) would be the veggie crumble pasta. Others found this a treasure of a meal mostly for the sides of an energy bar, candy, applesauce and other nick-knacks. Overall, my reason for becoming vegetarian was more of tire of meat. Salads were my daily fuel during senior year of high school. After having had greens for months on end, I altogether stopped my "meating" and hadn't associated a reason until much later in the year, in thought.


 The moments I carried,
 The little I do,
 Sunshine and cherries,
 And it's all for you!


1:23 P.M.

April 24th, 2017

7:57 A.M.
I need to get cultured. There is a world out there, and I am doing nothing to be helpful of my situation. With life and world, the mighty universe to behold, we dance in the prairies and sing in the rain, without the world and life ahead and beauty to withstand. I love life infinitely.
A new class and

May 1st, 2017

2:49 P.M.
My frustration, the contempt I preserve, how, could I be so ignorant? I don't care even for the promotion. All I wanted was to make history, and I failed at that, too. The chiding surrounding me vexes my stimulated sense of angst and anger, and a reserved emotion I hide intentionally for it has no need for the outside world. I cannot be like this anymore. Complacent and disturbed, driven by the fire of being myself. They cannot be more than I am. I need right this solecism. Avenge my thrive.
All those naysayers absorbed into my emotional box have no room for more temptation.

May 24th, 2017

Oh, I've become complacent. Not sure what is truly preventing my progression. I'll pass soon, and if I know about all the things I'll miss, with so much potential I have, it's something of a distraught. I graduate in five days and it's the weekend. Hmm. My oh my, what a life I've yet to live. my sentences may be frilly and stringed with decorative words and figures of speech, but the overall meaning is flawed, lacking logic or true substance. They don't make sense, and I've been told so as well. Hmm.

May 31st, 2017
The vacation....
Day one. The ride to the airport.

The weekend was going to be a long one since I forgot my uniform back at the school house. It was two months of "rigorous" training. In all reality, it wasn't. The hardest thing about the whole of the thing was what to do with my free time since I had an abundance of that.
A resurgence of my innovation, of my wealth of opportunities, of my imagination. I need God! I need to get things done, otherwise I wouldn't be able to do the things I dream of doing. Hmm. Do something incredibly great. If you want to fulfill your purpose, you have to open up your mind to do things you would never have thought of. Stop bullying yourself. It isn't helping. None of it is. When you finally realize how much you are missing out on life, then go for it. Please, welcome the world, not destroy it with pessimism.
Young children. They are the essence of purity. Their eyes are unweighted by the precedence of judgement. Malala Yousafsai. Get out of your comfort zone.

July 29, 2017

You know, I never seem to do anything that I haven't planned for. Lately bugles sound their prominence and await

September 9, 2017

4:00 p.m.

I want to turn over a new leaf. The current me defaults to unreasonably robust forlorn, racking the weight of past devil cries and never truly appreciating the monumental good I portray or attempt to in spirit. There is hope, and I shouldn't have to lecture myself in this criteria.

October 16th, 2017

1:16 a.m.

I knew I wouldn't be gettting to see him again, especially not after having been off and aloft for months in advanced. I was surprised the logroll of a pillow was still bouncing around when I was able to come back home in May. This was right after personal administration school. I was fresh off the boat and ready to move into my first duty station. As I wanted to save up my leave days for something big, while normally people requested ten or more days in transition, I went with seven. The atmosphere was odd and welcoming. It's as though I were visiting my grandparents' home and wafting in the memories, but it was my own room, my own books and journals and plushies that had that familiar old scent. It felt surreal to be there, and even more so to be with family and at such a loving, cool week in Minnesota. When I did see Sylvester the guinea pig, I immediately smiled and went to go pet him. I spoke to him as though he were a long time companion of mine, for he is, and continues to be. Through tears, I said my goodbye and moved on with my day. Later, on October 16, did I find out that that was my last memory of him.

October 22nd, 2017

4:30 p.m.

Who am I when no one is looking?

Let's see. So far, I've been a YouTubing melodramatic English avian who browses the internet in the wrong places and wrong times. Now let's take that and turn it into something, someone I can appreciate. But who am I if I do not appreciate myself?

Lately, I have been in the trough trying to find meaning to my life and what lies beyond the walls of my mind. So far, I have not been diligent in my strife, thus the endless sulking was born. Reading this one book I've had my mind on, "The Untethered Soul", it is rekindling that spirit I had three years ago in the tenth grade. The gifts of imperfection. That's it!

November 3rd, 2017

I need this. Maybe it wasn't how I was referring to sin as a means of alleviation of my stress, maybe I need a reconsideration in how I am effectively conducting my life. Maybe I just need a new perspective. Help. I don't know what I need, but if it is something that can be construed and tried, then that's just what I'll do. A change of heart and a change of mind. I've been hiding for quite too long in my life and am just falling short of my true self. What is it that I need?

December 4th, 2017

The Convention.

Day One, Thursday.

When I packed up my belongings, I left without saying goodbye to my family. My mother saddened, but still texted me my farewell and prayers. It was six in the morning, I was showering, packing when I should've done that a week ago, and double, triple checking the things I needed and the things I wanted to bring along for my room in the barracks back in Parris Island, where I am stationed. Neevi, a panda pharmacist who works for the government, sent Dosen the Fox to help me with my belongings. When I stepped out, I was off to the second part of my vacation, to a convention of warm effervescent creativity where imagination ruled and the only limits were the sky. I excited on my way there, creeping out of the confinement of my inner chambers of my comfort zone to be the person I always was but hardly had the courage of sharing. For the first bit, we drove to drop off Dosen. I held up the hype and cheered my way down the road, hoping that I don't fall asleep anytime soon. When we arrived, I noted that there was a change of atmosphere within the Equinox, and one that benefited my wellness. I sang, chittered about whatever it was to chitter about, we picked up Comet the red panda who is really blue in color, I met his parents and we headed our way to the convention. On the way there, Comet reserved to himself and jammed on his phone. When I wanted to chat and socialize, he hardly ever piped in on the conversation. We stopped by a semi-vegan café that served good omelets and other breakfast items. When I saw the first, or should I say "furst" fursuiter in Chicago, I screamed, giggled, waddled and bobbled in my seat with intense joy and happiness. I was enamored. The furfest is here! Oh, and I already felt the everlasting love glowing.

I began the journey with a rambling of hugging and meeting up with furs, old and new. I dug through my luggage, popping on a red flannel shirt and some dark beige pants. Garnering a book bag about as worn out as my heels after the final day, I was ready for the weekend. Although a plethora of panels were available, I attended but a few, and the popular ones, at that. Floor wars, the variety show, and the opening ceremony. I was in line, waiting for something to happen, but, instead I socialized per use and made a subtle friend there. Subtle, in this case, refers to how easily I can be forgotten but when seen face to face, they'll remember me.

After the day was over, since neither dealer's den nor the art show/alley were open, the majority of the time was spent in selfies. I actually bumped into a few furs from an old pal of mine from Telegram. A chat that was disbanded due to complications with the group admins. We then chittered and lounged about. They were named Nightkat and Nik. After socializing for a bit, we hugged. As a hugging enthusiast, the warmth of shared intimacy was brought back to the private quarters of Kat's room. I learned something new that day. 

Day two, Friday.

When

December 25, 2017

I didn't even bother to write a post on her. She was gone. I was at my boyfriend's house to which I'll later leave him before the convention to come in April when I found out about the news. It was Christmas day, and I just heard word from my mother that she was fine, that she'll breathe another day. We unwrapped gifts. His family was rather inviting, so much so, that it brought about a wave of discomfort. It seems as though if people get near who I really am, I push them away, afraid that I'll hurt them. Those that witnessed the true mess I am got a big whiff of my crookedness. I made sure that I wasn't letting beloved ones too near to the abyss I am, allowing their sincere curiosity be transformed to utter disgust. I broke down. I couldn't take it any longer. I never was a good boyfriend, and I feel I won't be unless I changed who I was. My warmth was only to be appreciated, like the sun, from afar. I never intended to be the monster I am deep down in the chambers of my heart. Yet, even with her passing, my leaf of a spirit continues to fall, untouched by the autumn that beckons its harmonious beauty.

June 29, 2018

4:53 p.m.

It's been nearly a year since I last posted something. Nothing new seems to be vibrant enough to be worthy of distribution. I sigh, knowing full well I could live that life so high in the clouds, yet I remain grounded, wings still in tack, wandering the beautiful earth two-dimensionally. I don't remember everything that's happened since. I don't remember half the things I did yesterday.

8:40 p.m.
As a light source, the glory can be appreciated from a distance. Come near, that illumination becomes painful to be near or see. It seems I am just that. Those that I know and have allowed into my heart I show nothing. Nothing but a bitterness of having an awkward mind. I don't know how to express emotions, and people have caught glimpse of my true nature under the smile. This might be why I choose to appreciate friends from a distance. I'll only hurt them if they near my fortress.

I got a boyfriend. I never thought the day would come, where I would be thinking about, planning to settle a courtship with a ring. I always thought that I'd marry my pen pal from Indiana, Julie. We continue to talk to this day. She now has a significant other, so that completely derails my plans. Still, I'd like to meet her at some point.

July 1st, 2018

6:48 p.m.
Philly, Philly!
Traveling is a call to renewal  for the senses, mind and soul. It is a revitalization of the spirit, enchantment of the heart and it adds magic to the littlest of details. It is the essence of life!
With down time, I doodle in the open layers of my mind. There wasn't much going on that I could place a tack on, yet I still had an interesting day. I had a friend over back from another convention I attended. We promised to play, but that never happened. As I traced my steps for the past hour (this was just past noon) I finally got a message. "Should I come over or you?" Now, I was staying with another friend, and he was at work. I didn't want to upset him from my benevolent belligerence. I still wanted to hold that friendship. "Yah, you can come over. I brought my suit!"
(f you read anything about furries, don't take it into account. Have a trustworthy guide into the minefield, otherwise you'll be tainted with the sheddded blood of the media and the soured masses.)
By the time he arrived, I dozed off on the carpeted floor (comfier than my own bed). Without much conversation, we got right down to business.

Pictures really are inaccurate reads of reality. They distort the real deal for better or worse. If I had trained myself for him, it would've been for the better. But no. Butt no.
It felt as though I was tasting again a cheesy jalapeno dip. My anguish, the crying muscle stretched too fast. It wasn't before long until I tapped out, transitioning into comfier activities. After our finales, we went to get some ice cream.

That just about caps my day.
Until now.

8:40 p.m.
"What is this?" He said with a sternness that bit the small quarters of his apartment as he held a bottle of lube. I looked down and bit my lip, knowing full well what was about to happen. Makai was quick to apologize. "I'm sorry, I never meant for this to be drama. I assumed you were okay with it and knew."
He didn't need to be here, but I was one to delay his departure. So much for a friendship, and so much for a pleasant weekend. 
"I'm sorry."
"Are you?" He lashed back. "I don't even want you in my apartment while I'm away. In fact, I don't even know I'm comfortable with you in my place while I'm here. Either you leave now or leave in the morning." After that, we reserved ourselves to our laptops as we sit next to each other on the couch.

Why do I make these decisions I know full well of the consequences? Why do I do this to myself? 

Am I looking for controversy, stuff to add to my memoir? My mindset is already destructive as it is. 

Either change now or feel the wrath of your ignorance.
Where have I gone? I'm fading into darkness, becoming the person I never wanted to be when I joined the fandom.
I still have a day left of my vacation. I don't know what tomorrow will bring.

July 4th, 2018

8:11 a.m.
The time is now come. Vacation is nearly done. As I wait diligently beside my gate, eager for the nap I'll be jumping into once I'm back in my room, I can't help but think back to my weekend and how things could've been way different. First off, that drama held yesterday was easily avoidable, yet I persisted in my ignorance. Second, the host in the house I went to next after I was kicked out of the previous one boiled my temper nearly to the breaking point. She wouldn't leave me alone, nor would she stop talking to me, pestering me about what time to wake up, what time to sleep, whether I should watch this, or share my story about that when all I wanted to do was curl up on the sofa and rest for the early day to arrive. As irritable as I was, she didn't mean any harm, so I mumbled soft replies and went along. I just wanted to cry. The weekend was in my hand yet I allowed sin to guide the wheel. As much as I despised myself, I still had fun.
At some point during the night I had a chat with my now then boyfriend.
Me:  "Am I a bad person?"
Bf:  "Huh? In what way? And where did this come from?"
Me: "I've just been thinking as I'm reading back on my blog (when in reality I've had a wealth of struggles that brought my action/reactions into perspective).
Bf: Well, you have done very bad things and don't learn from them or want to try and learn.
Me: Mmm.
Bf: You keep making the same mistakes and it comes across as you only care about you.
Me: I understand.
Bf: That everyone is just for you to use to get what you want, not caring about those you hurt and leave behind along your way. Everyone is just a pawn for you to use and toss aside in the game of life.
Me: Hmm.
Bf: Your happiness is top and only priority, but you don't stop and think about others happiness sometimes as long as you got what you want. All in all, you're an amazing friend but a terrible boyfriend.
Me: I figured as much.
Bf: I'm sorry >_<
;(
I hope you don't hate me, I feel like you do.
Me: I'd rather take your honest opinion than you telling me what I want to hear. I hope you don't hate me. I understand if you do.
Bf: I don't.
Me: Hugs (He hugs in return). I hate myself.
Bf: Then change.

Then change.

Why is that so hard for me?