Write Me Off (The Difference)


I feel the numbness carry in
An uninvited guest within
Beating slower and slower
I become the mannequin

Floating to the river bed
The sheets become my closest friends
I pick the warmest one
To join me to the end

I feel dumb
Going numb
Am I really improving
Or am I getting used to it

Did you make it to the scene
Where the dragons in between
All the mountains how they lean
Towards the sun and the unseen

My eyes drain inside
My tendency to hide
In the shaded areas
Where we met

My feet taken down
By the weight of the world
I wanna give up
Knowing it’ll still swirl

And I lay
This is where I wanna stay
As the day
Reminds me of a warmer way

Without the sheets

He’s gasping
He’s gasping

That can’t be my reflection
It’s just another victim
Of a battered abused system
Leading him to my direction

I can feel the beating
He still carries his soul
Pulls out the notes and the pen
Will he write me off

Or will he make the mistake

The beating slows within
Has he improved
Has he gotten used to it

Be the difference
The better statistic

He sits on the edge
I lay on the river bed
He stares down the bridge
Wonders how the end

He’s crying
He’s crying
He’s crying
I’m crying

We feed the river
The difference

The sky brightens up
I can’t hide anymore
I can’t die knowing
There is more

With you in the sky

An uninvited guest within
I become the mannequin

a year since “Nohemi”

It’s been a year since the terrorist attack in Paris. The one American life lost in that event was Nohemi Gonzalez, CSULB student from El Monte, my hometown. It shocked me, opened my eyes a little more to the numbness from the terror around us. That event also inspired me to immediately record this track. It was the first track I recorded for the album “Tempted to Live,” which was about loneliness and losing loved ones. I put it as the final track to remember, after each time I listened to the album, why the album even exists. It reminds me how insignificant my pain was in comparison to what Nohemi and her family had experienced.

The weight of the world gets heavier each day, and you survive the weight by becoming stronger than you were the day before.


The question asks: If 100 people your age were chosen at random, how many do you think you’d find leading a more satisfying life than yours?

I might believe fewer than half. Let’s say I’d find at most 44 people more satisfied than myself. I feel that coping with loneliness will be a pretty large factor in others’ answers, and I don’t believe the majority of these 100 random people would have mastered the skill of being alone. I think I have, though. I always see a hint of loneliness through the things my friends say on social media. Sometimes it’s the core of their problems.. I spend most of my time alone, at least three days a week traveling completely alone on busses, trains, through LA County. I go to parks and museums with my camera and search for other signs of loneliness in the world, but do not find it. We are all vastly connected, instantly reachable. I understand that the older we get, the less time we have to spend with people we met in the past who we’d like to be with for a bit longer. Communication is key; every few months or years I send short messages to people I don’t see on a regular basis because I still want that friendship to exist. A friend to me is anyone who, as of the last time we had met or contacted, I had a positive connection with; Everyone else is a potential friend. So if anyone ever has the (unlikely) existential crisis of “omg does Elmo even care about me anymore?!” just think of how the last time we met went. The answer might be so clear, it is unclear.

Money seems to be another issue. I don’t find money as a problem for myself, but I recognize I wouldn’t be able to survive/ sustain living alone or being in a relationship with the job I currently have. In fact, I can’t make friends in job because people leave very quickly, which further reinforces the loneliness in my life. It’s not that good a job; but why should I get myself one any better than this at my age? Also, The largest portions of money that I spend is on marathons or half-marathons. Clothing is my next largest investment, though I only buy plain t-shirts and running/ comfy stuffs. And even then I only spend on these things like at least every 5 months or more. So having even the slightest positive flow of moneys each month keeps me highly satisfied. I don’t think half of the random people would be okay with the basics of life as I have, in the context of moneys and loneliness. Because they want greater things in life, because maybe they’re falling behind in their dreams, because their time in the world is never certain, I dunnooo really, I’m not a fan of having to speak for 99 random people my age..  I don’t think students being given large sums of moneys from the govt will be dealing with the money issue though. I live with what I got, and it’s barely enough. Doing things in the name of money, other than for basic necessities, to me is unhealthy. I have a feeling most people would disagree.

So using these two examples, I know it’s not a perfect way to live, but hey, at least my life leads me to believe I’m having it better than 56 of 100 random people my age. xP

post election thoughts

{originally posted on Facebook}

Sorry for this long post; I had to sleep on these thoughts before venting again. I might get too emotional by the end but I always do that. If you find a mistake on the spelling/grammar/word use, fourgive me four eye am hueman…

I planned to be away from Facebook (and Instagram) for a couple months, given how intoxicated it made me feel to scroll down the bottomless feed, and although Twitter is too limiting for me with 140 characters, I tend to go on only during elections as I did last night. I noticed a lot of friends feeling appalled, anxious, mournful by the election results… some thinking about the communities that had worked so much for so long for their chances at liberty, only to have it all fall short given what we’ve heard from the president-elect during the campaign. I watched the whole campaign in detail, from the first candidates tossing themselves in the ring, to the final match that not even the previous night’s statistics had predicted correctly. I fell in love with the primaries, each debate, the late night shots on the candidates. It inspired me more to search a way to help as many people as I could in the few decades I have left.

I learned from what I saw and read about this crappy political atmosphere we’re in, that it’s cyclical. Given our top choices we are set to hit rock bottom in society all over again. Terrible presidents preceded the Great Depression, and it took a New Deal to fix as much of it up as we could, where the focus was now on the people. They were thigh-deep in the crap back then, and they shoveled most of it away up until the 80s. The 90s is where the progressive movements seemed for sure at a halt to me; it was the top, the new decline set to begin, the period of time where the government would forget about its people and focus on the money. The crap slowly piling up. If Clinton were to be elected, we’d have at least four more years before a worse president with the same message as Trump and not as terrible of a character would be bound to take the White House. And then four years of that.

I took a guess that it would be about three presidents from now when we’d again be thigh-deep in the crap, and it would all have to reset again. We’ll hit rock bottom. But now with Trump, I notice that his presidency could accelerate the piling of crap onto us. We’re gonna hit rock bottom faster, either with him or the next. I tend to find it difficult to not see the good in things, so I concluded that, sure we might hit rock bottom faster now, but the good thing about being at the bottom is that from there you can only go up. We can only progress. And it’ll require intense struggle. We can shovel it and focus on the people, then eventually find justice for the unjust. Otherwise the system would be “rigged.”

I noticed a lot of people completely dumbfounded that so many would vote for Trump. I thought about our broken education system, ruled by corporatists that look for the money, not the improvements for us. Too many years have gone and we still have to bubble in our way into sheeplings. It is designed in such a way that we could more easily blame the teachers or its students instead of the corporations and governments responsible. Very few might find a way to beat ‘this system,’ but without money there is little hope in this world. Realizing our education system needs reform is the first step; I have no answer as to how this can be fixed.

I noticed many people declaring this American life wasn’t worth living now, that it’s okay to give up on trying to be more than what you are, that we can’t fix this. Again, once we’re in rock bottom we’ll only be able to look up. Trump might pull out a Trump and fix something. Trump might also knock down our hopes and raise the hurdles (He’ll have Congress and the Supreme Court on his side). The struggle will be heavier to carry than before, but it might raise a good amount of progressive leaders out of us. We just have to get back up the mountain, climb. Fight. Challenge THEM. Give up? If it was okay to let this kind of crap take us down, this nation wouldn’t be here. Because those progressive leaders did rise up after the Depression.

Don’t feel useless. These struggles do not take individuals. It usually takes millions. A TEAM. Have you not learned this yet from watching sports, from The Walking Dead? xP Those one shot heroes only exist in film, in comics. And even there it might not always be one person. You’re not alone. I’m good at being lonely and as I am I still never feel alone. Because I look up and can’t help but notice that I have something in common with the clouds. We’re temporary. So is money.

We aren’t given much time on this planet, not enough to spend it hating, holding grudges and prejudices. Those moments are never the best of us. We can’t sit around hoping for the best in them to save us from the darkness inside. We each all our pain to bask in, our struggles. To give up is to not struggle. On the individual level, we can still love. We can still make sure our future choices are not as poisonous. That’s all I’d recommend.

I always come around to my senior quote. :F Given by the former slave Frederick Douglass: “If there is no struggle, there is no progress.”
Trump might have Washington but he won’t have the progressive movements.

I won’t wait for a better world, I want to keep making sure I’ve earned it. We deserve the love that will come to us in the future if we deserved the hate that has come upon us.


There is not enough time in this world to hold grudges. They hold us back, longing to rectify a moment long gone. They remove us from the present moment, leaving an impression on the world we would not want the younger ones to follow. They incite a future that does not focus on wellness, love. Because we want deservance. We want due process.

But who taught us life in this world would be fair?
Who taught us that a given individual would get what they deserve?
Was it the stories of heroes who would somehow find an end to the evildoer gone mad?
These stories were most of them one-sided, weren’t they?
Was is the saturated school system, designed as an ends and not a means? as archaic as the political machine that tends to reward only those seeking objective wealth?
But it never ceases, does it? It stays one-sided.
Instead of evolving it, we get cellphone version 7. We get model 2017. We get the new update. But do we walk into a classroom and tell ourselves “this is how it is because we are at the end of the progression wheel.” A wheel with a monkey wrench in it.
Is it that power is too consuming? The political machine finds a way to bleed the hopeful of their priorities in favor of, again, wealth, the lust for more power. Oiling the gears.
And it never ceases, does it?
Is it the ‘natural tendency’ of selfishness we all have. Driven not by gaining something, anything, instead by fear of losing something, everything. What ever was promised to us, whether we had it or not, is not something we are willing to wait for. Because what are we waiting for?

We lose our patience.
We want to point our fingers.

And we thrust our blame at the ‘evildoers’
We thrust it to the entertainers, to our educators, to the politicians, to the doctors, and the police. To like individuals.

Because we were not taught to change what we are led to believe is the ‘way of life.’ And this way of life keeps us unmatched to the machine. It stays beyond our reach. But we did reach the moon.

And maybe we don’t like change. Maybe the comfort zone we lead ourselves into is innate, in us and in society. Is it right to stay inside this comfort zone? In the noises and scenery we don’t need to second guess; we have no will.

Do we simply forget where we are in the grand picture? In this world, we seem alone; some die convinced. Some kill themselves. Some thrive by luck. Some are born hungry, sick, die hungry, sick. Some pay to live longer. Some play the system; some fight it. So far, death is still one of the few things we share. We share it with the greats of history, and we’ll share it with the greats of tomorrow. We also share the earth we stand in. The only place we can call home. A place some of us neglect. We search for more. We want more. Because what we have isn’t enough. Because we want deservance. We want due process.

From what, death?

The only worthy grudge worth holding is with those keeping us from changing, evolving, improving, what we have. Caring for what we have and want, that others might benefit from. Having a life worth living for in this world. Keeping our little project afloat doesn’t survive staying still; the wave will engulf it. We gotta do our part. Even if there already is a hole in the ship. Let it all sink. Let it not all sink without us making our time on it worth it. It’ll hurt. It’ll take some of us down before we can feel achieved. We all share this reality, and we might carry this reality alone. There is not enough time in this world to hold grudges.

If love is worth the loneliness, let’s be lonely together.

i found my life worth living

It might be appropriate to shed a little light on my beliefs, or just spew thoughts, a little more often than I have. The need to get myself heard has been growing for about a year, and even I want to know what I have to say. It has been at least 9 months since I’ve last committed myself to depression. I hit a low in January, and while in therapy I let a critical soft spot bleed my emotions out in April. When my therapy ended in June, I left it feeling revived. Capacitated. I have acquired a peace with myself in this world. I never realized, or previously acknowledged, my capacity to love the world. The love I have for this world, it hurts. I want to express it. Then, I remembered this old blog site of mine.

It led me to a specific thought that may or may not be in fact true: The amount of love one is capable of feeling and expressing is a complement, a reflection, of the amount of pain and suffering one has endured. They are equal forces, love and sadness. Maybe it can be seen more clearly when considering destruction and creation. Or life and death. Or pouring water into a plastic cup for so long that the cup capsizes. These processes can be inescapable, consequential, so natural. One can feel loved for so long, followed by the sudden fear of, or a realization, of abandonment. I think it feels cyclical. Again, inescapable the capacity to accept and bestow love on what virtue one has allowed into their life, reflected “perfectly” in their tendencies to feel sad, abandoned, empty, stressed, emotionally drained.

Given what ever I just typed, I’m not too sure it is alright to believe that love is a “good” thing, or sadness a “bad” thing. They are natural things, and nature does not seem “good” or “bad”.. Or “fair”. You deal with the hand you are dealt, whether you chose to draw or not (and you were not given the choice, you were drawn the cards; at this point, any such squeal “I didn’t chose/want this life!” is as practical as a wasp). Destruction is not “bad,” creation not “good.” or vice versa. They are natural, cyclical, only given such qualities in relation to the context. Life and death similarly.

Given what ever I just typed, I prefer life over death. The reason I do is the people. As an individual, you are a beautiful being. Each of them is unique; even if two people share the exact same experiences, they will interpret the information before them differently. It might be as basic as the fact that both those persons were not able to see it with their eyes literally positioned on the same spot. These different angles alone will inspire different perspectives. One might catch something the other didn’t. One can SEE the other; not their self. These few things, not considering the ever changing world they are watching. And behold, two different stories. What happened outside of their control might be the same, but they might not interpret the same information similarly. That is unique. It would also be unique to me if both persons had the exact same perspective. I don’t see it impossible, but nonetheless would be unique to me if possible. That fascinates me. I do not want to live knowing there is a story I haven’t heard that will inspire me to create, to think, to review what I know. To love. There are enough people in the world to never give up on this resolve. But of course, knowing I will never know it all, I must not hasten this search. As much as I prefer to know the lives of others, to understand their love and pain, I must live my own, and have my loves and pains. Otherwise I would not be able to inspire the same thing for a mirror image of me. My greatest weakness is neglect of myself.

Given what ever I just said, I do not see the world in terms of fairness [justice; equal; worthy of witness]. Nature does not point to there being a fair life, a fair existence, for anything that lives. It does though, appear in the big picture to be “fair;” “Life” evens itself out, but not for any particular life. A child will be born into hunger and poverty, die before it meets the sun. One will call that unfair. A child will be born into an overabundance of gluttony and greed. One will hold prejudice, privilege. I will hold that for not a second longer without letting it go. It feels vain. I know very little about the world. I do not accept that I know anything about myself too accurately without not eventually evolving. I do not advocate for confusion of oneself; this is simply evidence for what I said earlier: My greatest weakness is neglect of myself. I feel vain whenever I make a claim. I feel vain whenever I conclude. I do not acknowledge myself. This is the gaping hole; the cause of my eventual recession in love for the world outside of me, that the darkness will hook on to as it grows. I will not claim I can stop it, or let it convince me I’ve lost, because sadness it not bad. It is cyclical.

It’s simply the best time now, during my happiest, during my bravest, that I will type. I do not want to type when I feel empty, when I feel the internal gravity dragging me into the little square hole I carved. I do not want to leak my hate, my sadness, to the world. I will instead fight. I will not surrender, because during those times I am aware that I had forgotten something crucial, something too important, that my tongue has forgotten. And the weight will have grown only for not expressing myself in time. The reason will be forgetting the uniqueness of the individual. It might also be that I have risen enough people. I might help someone without knowing, and I won’t know it until the little plastic cup has overflowed with love and I leak out. I notice as I type that I am expressing myself in a time what I notice the other “lions” and “lionesses” are in slumber. I go to them for rescue, and then others come to me. They disappear from my scope, and I step into the light others wait for me to step in. I become a new role, the strongest chain one can hold on to as we all help each other rise, until I am again at the bottom. I may not have a choice. It may feel like a responsibility to lift the world. It seems a worthy goal.

Now that the weight is off me, maybe I can simplify this. I barely know a thing about the world: that exchanging love is preferable to the exchanging of most other experiences. There is nothing better to me than expressing and receiving this, to keeping this at the forefront of decision-making. It illuminate others. And that illuminates me. But I will not shun or bottle up the other feelings; they deserve as much attention.

Is it not a coincidence that I have little love for myself and am committed to express all my love to the world outside of me? The people and nature are worth living for. I found my life  worth living for, and maybe that negates the claim that I do not love myself.

New Album: Tempted To Live

First time in almost four years I both have an album with vocals and one made with a keyboard instead of the usual upright. It took me a while to settle with a set list. It’s my latest album in 13 months.. that’s quite a gap for me. :3

The concept/lyric in “Tempted To Live” is borrowed from a poetry project I wrote in the past year titled “My Escape.” It entails an individual who spends time at a bridge, looking at the reflection of a beautiful sky through the river. He falls in love with the sight, visiting often, eventually creating a world of castles and wilderbeasts using the clouds; he daydreams being up there, away from reality (known as The Monsters). Conflict begins [this is where the piano album begins] when it starts raining and there seems to be no end, resulting in a stream of grey each time the individual looks into the river, to which his character begins regressing. After a few weeks of manic depression (bipolar disorder), he comes to the inference that if he ‘jumps through the grey’ from the bridge, he can find that beautiful sky once more.16 Tempted to Live.jpg