.don't criticize what you can't understand.

Another upload with Brian Puspos
I've watched him for years grow as a dancer
and he never disappoints me
This is another moving piece by him

Saturday mornings

I don't know if there's any relationship with a sneeze and  your lungs but hearing that thunderous roar let me know you were still here.

Still alive

Still breathing

Still fight left in you

Because with years of inhaling that nicotine and years of swallowing that whiskey the odds are rarely in your favor

But with the realness of your sneeze

So comfortable with so much force you would jump in your seat letting it all out

It let me know you weren't going anywhere

A little after 6 on Saturday morning

And I'd find myself staring out the kitchen window of grandmas house just watching you from across

Probably no more than a minute on most occasions

I'd look out at you, sitting outside with a cup of coffee and a cigarette

Wearing a white sando and a fisherman's hat, ready to start your day

I couldn't of been younger than 11 yet no older than 14

And I never understood it

Especially at that age, why 'old' people got up so early

And all they'd do was sit outside and drink coffee

After a minute or so I'd tuck myself back into my bed, because my body was telling me it was still night time and fell back asleep

But here I am 25 years old, coincidently on a Saturday morning of what could have been your 92nd birthday, sitting in the exact spot you'd sit down at in the early mornings from across where I'd watch you out that window

6 something in the morning with a cup of tea in my hand and I get it

It took me awhile but I understand the beauty of the early mornings you enjoyed

The silence the world gives you before he starts his day, or the smell of wet grass, or the smell of the world before the corbon dioxide takes over, the beauty of stillness

The best time for reflecting, appreciating everything I have

Thank you

Happy Birthday grandpa

Enjoy a couple for me

Late upload.
But had to share.
Cause Puspos did it again, damn.

Writers 'C' Block

So, I'm taking this 'writing the news' class

And I thought I would really enjoy the class

But, I realize I'm not really fond of it

I'm a communication major

Most people think I plan on eventually working with the news by way of writing it

And I have no means to

I don't wanna be a reporter for the news

I don't wanna be told what to write or how to write

I don't wanna feel the pressure of needing to produce 'articles' daily and with a very short time limit

I don't wanna get straight to the point

I don't wanna tell you exactly what happens

I wanna describe that feeling

Like when you're at work and you fuck up and your body tenses up

Then you start fidgeting with your fingers from nervousness

And you ask God to help you out this one time and you PROMISE him you'll never ask for anything ever again

When your heart wants to jump outta your chest

That feeling

I wanna start on a piece  and then forget about it then come back and edit it

I like to write the same way I like to enjoy my tea; hot and slow

Well minus the hot part, but you catch my drift… right?

So I guess every bone, muscle, vein, cartilage, etc.  in my body has been preventing me from writing the way I need to write for this class

I tell myself that it's just a class and it doesn’t mean this is what I want to be doing

But I'm stubborn as fuck when it comes to putting my name on a piece of writing that has to be shared with the whole class and I don't put my heart in it. 

they say my gender is my destiny, but fuck that

We want what we can’t have, commodity makes us want it 
So expensive, damn, I just got to flaunt it 
Got to show ‘em, so exclusive, this that new shoe
A hundred dollars for a pair of shoes I would never hoop in 
Look at me, look at me, I’m a cool kid 
I’m an individual, yea, but I’m part of a movement 
My movement told me be a consumer and I consumed it 
They told me to just do it, I listened to what that swoosh said 
Look at what that swoosh did 
See it consumed my thoughts 
Are you stupid, don’t crease ‘em, just leave ‘em in that box 
Strangled by these laces, laces I can barely talk 
That’s my air bubble and I’m lost, if it pops 
We are what we wear, we wear what we are 
But see I look inside the mirror and think Phil Knight tricked us all 
Will I stand for change, or stay in my box 
These Nikes help me define me, but I’m trying to take mine, off 

American Comedy at its finest.

Charlie Chaplin said "A Life Without Laughter Is A Life Wasted."




Happy Saturday!
This is me procrastinating on doing some homework. 

Constant cycle.

...and then some

.twenty-five.

I turned 25 a couple days ago. And here are some things I've come to realize:

• My life is a beautiful struggle.
• I have great friends.
• I am still a really guarded person.
• I love to day dream.
• I know it's wrong sometimes to do things yet I still continue to do them.
• I'm a simple person who enjoys simple things.
• I've learned to stop wanting things and just make the best with what comes my way.
• People will always let me down, it's how I  choose to deal with it that matter most.
• I still can't forgive and forget.
• I get scared. 
• I make mistakes.
• I like watching sun rises and sunsets.
• Forever is a lie.
• All you need to do is keep me laughing.

Twenty-five years has been an adventure. Everything I've experience has made me into the person I am today. So here's to reaching 25 years of life and to 25 more years to come.

Real Talk.

 

Don’t stress, you was granted everything inside this planet

Anything you imagine, you possess, my nigga

You reject these niggas that neglect your respect

For the progress of a baby step, my nigga

F*ING BEAUTIFUL

“To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself.” 

― Thich Nhat Hanh

WhereeverWhenever.

 

           WORD.

MCA

Hip Hop was nigga music growing up.
It was noise. It was unaccepted.
Beastie Boys weren't. Because they were white.
White like AC/DC, Black Sabbath, Nirvana

Beastie Boys were such a BIG part of my HIP HOP life as a kid
and so my heart broke when I heard the news of MCA passing away from cancer.
MCA was soo dope on the mic.
You just new when he was on the track.
and he was much more than a rapper
I'm glad I was blessed to experience their music.

fuck cancer.

RIP ADAM YAUCH

Day 13- A picture of your favorite artist

You know her as Rocky Rivera.

Shoot, you might even know her as Eyeasage.

I, met her as Krishtine De Leon.

Queen bee from the Bay, she's a force to be reckoned with, at least in my book.

Before I heard her spitting rhymes

She was a Bay area native in New York conducting interviews.

 Winner of MTV's 2007 single season I'm From Rolling Stone.

If you've ever watched I'm From Rolling Stone, Krishtine was a raspy voice, short filipina who was in love with Hip Hop.

There was an episode that somewhat changed my life.

She went to interview Snoop Dogg because a new album was going to drop.

During that interview she asked him if he was going for a new sound because she gave the album a listen and noticed the difference .

She was correct but the thing that stayed with me was that not long after that episode I went to give that album a listen and I, couldn't hear the difference.

Snoop Dogg was Snoop Dogg.

On that show she was such a hustler. She just did her thing. Believing that what she was doing was good enough.

She never tried to change to what they wanted her to be. And stood up for herself.

Fast forward to 2011, I'm youtubing Native Gun music videos and I come across a Rocky Rivera video. Heart was the video.  And I swear to you I've seen her before. I listen to another video and another video. Still not sure how I know her I google her.  A bunch of I'm from Rolling Stone blogs pop up and it brought me back.

She's a writer turnt rapper.

And she's such a dope femcee 

Female emcees have such a horrible image, eg. Nicki Minaj

Now I'm not saying I haven't listened to Nicki Minaj it's just if you look at Minaj's image she has to sell herself, has dumb lyrics and that whole devil outfit with the pope at the Grammy's 2012 (I think) was just FUCKIN ridiculous! 

If you check out Rocky's lyrics she talks about real shit.

Shit YOU can relate to and she doesn't have to sell herself by dressing like a prostitute. 

Many people may criticize the show and even roll their eyes at Krishtine, call the show a joke. Call her ghetto, but the fact that after watching her on the show(5 years ago) and to see what she maybe like and then seeing her now and she's still the same, makes me see her as REAL.

Give her a listen.

The two video's below are two songs I listen by her daily.

Daydream is such a fucking dope song.

So much meaning behind it along with a dope beat that you can listen anytime/anywhere.. 

I can't even explain my appreciation for this track. If you don't get it after hearing this track move on to the next blog.

My title is my 'favorite' artist, and Rocky isn't my FAVORITE she's not even on my top 10 list, but she is someone worth mentioning. 

Something about your aura

May 12, 2012

I am who I am partly because of you.

I am forever grateful by it.

I am a strong, independent individual

Thank you.

From  everything  you've taught me and all the mistakes you've allowed me to make so that I could figure things out on my own.

Thank you.

I took you off that pedestal I had you on because of things I was hearing about you over the years.

I eventually put you back on because the person I  knew was worth that pedestal.

When I think of you and me back in the day, this picture always comes to mind.

Because I remember days like these.

Days when you were around.

I remember just sitting up there.

In a corner, just sitting

Staying out of your way

and if I was lucky enough you'd TELL me to go get you a glass of water

I'd smile and run to the house to grab you a glass.

Then grandma would tell me to tell you it was lunch time.

There was something about your aura.

It just drew people towards you.

I would find myself wanting to spend my day in your presence than running around with the kids in the neighborhood.

and although words were rarely shared I felt like I've had the greatest conversations with you.

I can't even explain it well. I don't think my explanation up there ^ even did justice.

You were just…….Grandpa

 and I could go on and describe how you taught me to gamble or how strict you were and how rebellious I was even at that young age, your broken English, your favorite phrase "Da Kine", your jokes… I could go on about you forever grandpa, but then I couldn't write about you anymore. So I'll save the detailed stories for next time.

 

9 years deep, grandpa.

And I still try to live my life the way you instilled in me(give and take ; } )    

Continue to watch over me, guide me and keep me safe.

iLOVEyou.

And miss you.

I am a MARQUEZ, live like one, die one 

You already know though...

One of my cousin posted this on FB. I think it's his graduating class motto.
Dope motto.

Ambition unlocks doors. Effort opens them

Thought I'd share.
anyways...
 I have about 4 entries dying to be released on here.
It's just the last couple weeks of this semester, in other words crunch time.


sneak peak on one of my next entry.
Rocky Rivera
Enjoy.

. laugh

It's been awhile.

Since I've laughed.

Really laughed.

That laugh that starts from the bottom of the belly and vibrates it's way out your mouth.

That laugh.

That throw your head back laugh.

Slap your knee kinda laugh.

That laugh so hard, I'm crying laugh.

That laugh.

That genuine, real, true, fuckin' good laugh.

The laugh that doesn't look good in pictures but fucken worth the million and one words you'll get about it.

The laugh that makes the wrinkles you get twenty years down the road by them worth it.

That laugh

With those people

That time

Those memories…

invest in yourself

Worth 40 mins. of our time. ;)

Been a Tech fan for many years.

So, I HAD to share this with you all.

fails.

So my 30 Day Challenge was a total FAIL.

I got caught up with so much other shit.

uhh...

That's not even a good enough excuse.

I mean I started on most of them, I just left most of them unfinished.

I want to finish them and post them.

Some of them are really interesting for me and I'd like to share.

#sharingpostssoontocome!

Day 03

Feb. 16, 2012

Day 03- A photo of food you've made

Bisquick's just add water pancake mix is the best thing to come out since… I don't know… the internet.

Haha

Just kidding.

but I love it!

It literally takes me a minute to put together and another minute to cook.

Rachel Ray's 30 Minute Meals got nothing on Bisquick.

Pancakes remind me of Sundays after church at Denny's or Kings with the fam bam.

I enjoy my pancakes plain. With just butter.

Day 02

Feb. 15, 2012

Day 02- A picture of you with 15 facts

1. I have curly hair.
2. I like my coffee with brown sugar.
3. I listen to Hip Hop.
4. I don't like cats.
   
5. I'm stingy with my music.
6. I rather enjoy a movie on a couch than in the theaters.
7. I still use the same e-mail address from the 7th grade.
8. I don't like stupid people.
9. I laugh when I'm in trouble.
10. If you can't prove it, I won't admit it.
11. I can run my mouth.
12. I don't make friends easily.
13. I can't draw.
14. I roll my eyes when I hear bullshit.
15. Passion inspires me.

I was going to wait until my 30 days were over to start posting but I thought to myself- 30 days of picture taking and writing then another 30 days to blog them seemed too long for me. So I decided to start uploading them, at least two a day until I catch up.

enjoy.

Day 01.

30 Day Challenge.

Feb. 14, 2012

30 day was a challenge I took upon myself.

To appreciate all the lovely things I already have in my life.

If you read my 30 Day Challenge entry, I portrayed it as if my life sucked. -__-

I LOVE my life.

The challenge which I will share in a bit had me realize all the great things I already have going in my life.and I didn't realize (how much I appreciated life) until I started this challenge.

The challenge (among other things) I chose to do was a picture of something (e.g. someone you miss, a pic. of something old... etc.). I also had to describe the photo.

Day 01- A photo of someone you miss

Day one was actually suppose to start out with a photo of myself with 15 facts but since I started this on 2/14 I thought this was more appropriate.

This photo isn't a photo of my grandma but it's a picture of where she's at.

Six feet (+/-) down there she's there, in a beautiful baron style dress holding letters my brothers, sister and I gave her before they closed her casket.

Next to her is a purse with a photo album of photos with all of us in them for when she wants to reminisce.

I'm tired of missing her.

Ok, I'm not tired of missing her

I'm tired of reopening this casket.

This casket of wounds, emotions, questions, feelings, wants, regrets

I want to finally put her on that mantle with everyone else I've lost.

To finally let her rest and enjoy her after life.

V Day

One year ago I wrote this, I think on melo
But for some reason melo isn't loading for me...

Feb. 14, 2011
Happy Valentines day to you. For me, maybe V day but not happy. We rushed grandma to the hospital this morning. And I’m scared. Real scared. I lost her at one point. Right after we brought her in, they told me. She stopped breathing on me that they had to sedate her to intubate her. It took me about eight hours later since I last saw her to find the courage to see her again. I was terrified. My grandma was always strength to me. Always made it though everything and anything. But to see her in that state; tube down her throat, the sound of the machine, her tongue sticking out like a pig, sedated. I felt like I’ve lost her. Or I lost that image of her being superwoman. The doctors gave me 30 days.

Feb. 14, 2012
One year ago ... I lost you for awhile.
If it wasn’t for technology, I would of lost you then.
V day will never be the same.
While he gets the chocolates and flowers, I lay in bed too scared to get up.
Thinking I'd hear you call my name the moment I opened my bedroom door.
Like one year ago.

So I went to give you a visit.
To tell you I miss you

Hoping you'd hear me better if I were closer to you.

Some things in life you want to do just so you can say you've done them.

Clubhouses

We've probably made hundreds.
Ok, maybe not hundreds, but back then we sure made a lot of em.
In an area of family history, the yards our grandparents worked hard for, the same yards our parents ran around in, now the yards we dominated with our innocent souls.

I used to tell my classmates they didn't have it like we did.
We were the bangkad kids. We were the shit.

We made clubhouses out of anything we could get our hands on.
Trees, wood, scraps of tin, blankets, old tarp.
We'd make make-shift tools, stealing nails from our grandpa's tool box.

We had them in so many different places.
Once we had it under these stairs that we had to crawl to get into it and it was only high enough for us to lay in.
Another in an old taxi car.
Really.

Jun always made it a point to do a rain check, I hated those damn rain checks.
Here's why;
Jun's idea of a rain check was taking the hose and literally spraying water on the roof of those club houses.
Sometimes water would pour like crazy into the clubhouses soaking up everything.
That would usually end the building of a club house that day and we were off to the next thing.

During those year's my grandpa was around, building the apartments. Some times I would sit in a corner while he worked just watching him. So I hated Jun's rain checks because I would get really into trying to make a decent clubhouse and his f*ing rain checks would just throw me off.

We had many clubhouses, cause on most occasions after we left our clubhouse that evening, by the next day our grandparents would of taken them down.

I remember we made a clubhouse or more of a meeting spot under the stairs of the apartments by my place.
We had lemon grass growing by the side of the apartment and we grabbed some and smashed them up, mixed with water and wiped it around this hollow area under the stairs so it would smell nice, seriously.

or one time we made one in the jungle and we would bring food to give to the duendee's so they wouldn't bother us or get us sick.

Sometimes I wish I could go back to those times. When are main concern was to have as much fun as we can before our grandparents called us home for the night.

Back then there wasn't a care in the world. Everything was so simple back then. There was no thinking about our options, no worrying about the consequences, just going with the flow. Just our young imaginations trying to make the most out of what we had around us.

Let's recap

I was such a horrible writer.
Just horrible.
Haha.
I took time to take a look back at the things I've written online.
From YEARS ago.
I'm laughing at this moment just thinking about it.
It's entertaining NOW, looking back at it
But I feel if I were to read my entries from years ago at the same time I wrote it, I wouldn't think it was that entertaining.
Especially if I were looking at it from another person
I realized a couple things;
I was a HORRIBLE speller
I was over dramatic
I was an attention seeker
I had a somewhat relationship with my father
I was angry
I was lame
I sounded irritating, like on most occasion I take time to put out an entry, blog whatever you wanna call it.
I write, proof read, edit, rewrite
Until it sounds good to me.
There's a theme behind my entries, most time.
My entries mean something.
Back then it was; "OMG, I went bowling last night and the guy at the counter was super hot. I can't wait to go bowling again"

And now...I am;
STILL a horrible speller
I'm still somewhat 'over dramatic ' (in my defense, being over dramatic in story telling makes the story 10x more interesting.)
I don't think I seek attention (again, in my defense growing up I was the leader. Or I acted like it. It was you listen to me. I was that bad influence, I was the devil who whispered in your ear. I was the kid the uncles, aunties, cousin's friends, whoever remembered, cause I liked to cause trouble. I was the Dennis the Menace. I liked to tell all the jokes, be the funny one, all eyes on me ), I'm going through this phase where I'm good with that handful of great people I have in my life that no one else really matters.
I don't needa prove something to them or be someone else.
I can be myself, somewhat.
I no longer have a relationship with my father. And I'm okay with that.
I WAS angry. And on some day's, still am
But life is to short to STAY angry. Shit happens, just go with it.

I'm glad though, that I'm able to look back at it all,
Photographs through my words
I was able to stop time for a moment.
I was able to picture those days and the emotions that came with some of them.
I was able to remember things I've forgotten
Feelings I went through
There all here, in this time capsule we call the web
It's nostalgic, it's a breath of fresh air.
It's a recap to see how far I've come.
And I've come a long way.

Cuz The Boyz In De Hood Are Alwayz Hard

I don't think I've ever seen a crowd get as excited to hear a song as the group of people I was with last week.



It was freakin crazy!
When this track played you see the boyz jump up and down with excitement.
Screaming out the lyrics.
It was refreshing in some sense to me.
To see how time's changed right in front of me.

Makes me wonder what track my peoples and I would jump up and down to when we hear a track 20 years down the road.

30 days.

30 day challenge.
Inspired by matt cutt.

So for the next 30 days, try something different, new, what not.
Sounds simple. Yet can be somewhat difficult.
But can also be really enjoyable.
At least I think it would.
Do it by yourself, with a partner or a group.
For each day, capture with a photo.

I told myself 2012 HAD to be different for me.
Different by going out and doing something out of the ordinary.
Adding something new in my life.
I get stuck in repetition sometimes, in no particular order; school, work, fam. time,friends time, stress reliever time, homework time, t.v. time, sleep time, etc.
falling into a rut.
Nothing exciting
But 2012's gotta be different.
And by all means it will be.

I'm not forcing anyone to try this. Just thought you'd like to share this experience with me.
And you should be glad I'm asking to take on this challenge, cause you all know I'm an asshole.
;)

Share with a group of your friends.

ID-1fucking80

Dreams and how this class can help me realize it.
ID-1fucking80, is a retard/impede class.
And I know it's required and I KNOW I should of taken this class a LONNGG time ago
But, if I did this post wouldn't of been written.

ID-1fucking80 is this class that tries to help transition incoming freshmen to the do's and don'ts of college.
Basically helps make the most out of your college experience.
And the last couple classes I've found it really helpful.
But gahh DAMN does the professor talk to us like we are fuckin 12 years old.
They would tell us when to wipe our ass', if they felt it would help us graduate.

ANYWAYS, we had to write a paper on our 'dreams and aspirations' and how ID-180 could help us realize them.
So I wrote my paper about how I'm not too sure what I want. I just want to get to a point in my life where what I do will make me happy, forever. And that I hope ID-180 will help me take the proper steps to getting there.


Gosh , I first started this entry with the intentions of hating everything ID-1fucking80
And I'm ending this all sentimental about being happy forever.
And that's Only cause life and being happy will hopefully be apart of my next entry.


Until then,
One.

2011

'But you could never be replaced, I'd give my life up, Just to see you one more day'

[Every year I try to recollect my year in my journals with stuff that happened through out the year so I can look back eventually and see how far I've come.]

2011, you took my heart away this year.

[I started this journal entry on Dec. 4, 2011 and today is Dec. 30, 2011. Jan. 4, 2012, Jan. 6, 2012, Jan. 16,2012, Jan. 24, 2012 so for a long period of time that was all I could say about 2011. ]

You have been very difficult for me, 2011.
No joke.

And they don't get it.
No one does.

I fell to pieces early this year, and it's only now that I'm trying to piece myself back together.
And I don't know if I can do that or if I'm ready.

So much happened during 2011, it's hard to collect.
Most of this year is surrounded by the death of you, everything else are just fillers, crap that took up time.

Imissyou. Like everyday.
From Feb. 14, when I first lost you to March 16, when I lost you forever.
I remember it all, like it was yesterday.

I hate coming home.
Every time I come home I'm reminded that you're no longer with me.
Your bedroom door, used to always be open, always
so you can see when I leave and come back.
It's locked now.

Home is suppose to be where the heart is
If that's the case then my house is not a home.
It’s a constant reminder that shit happens in life, even if I'm not ready for it.

So since March of 2011, I stopped living.
My world stopped.
It was school and work for the most part.
I cut plenty people out of my life. Just so I didn't have to deal.
Less people meant less talking bout how life was.
Cause my story wasn't all that pretty.
and
I didn't know how to move past this. I don't know how to move past this.
How to get over this, how to deal.
I just front.
Putting on that smile.
Pretending like I'm okay.
but behind closed doors, I was a mess.

And I know you'd never want this for me.
And I know you're not proud of the things I've done, since you've been gone.
It's cause I miss you.
And I know that's a lame excuse
But I promise 2012 will be different.

Cause I can't do this anymore.
2011 was such a lonely year.
I wanna start living again.
To make you proud.
You're my hustle. To get me to where I needa, wanna be.
Cause every decision I made before always had you in mind.
And now, every decision I make , I will still have you in mind. To make you proud.
Imissyou.
iLOVEyou.

2012, be good to me.

…It's to late to talk to you, and its to soon to say goodbye.
Listen where ever you may be, you still live inside my mind.
Something tells me that you are free again, in a place that feels like home.
Its never easy to understand, why memories hold our hands, but people let go...