First and foremost, today has been the first day in just over two weeks that I've sincerely smiled. Today is the first day that I've actually felt good. I'm still a bit raw about some things, but, I'm getting better. Aeryn, I appreciate the time it took you to type what you did, especially when you didn't have to. As far as church, I'm a firm believer in God and God can do if you have him(?) in your life...but, I'm not really the most trusting of churches. I've seen a lot of shady activities in damn near every church I've been in...I'd rather just have a personal relationship with God for now. Could it improve? Yes. But, I'll work towards that and be fine with that for now. I don't knock anybody else for going to church, but I personally don't feel I need another man to tell me what relationship I should have with God. God is within us all...we just need to listen better.
But, to the point of this entry:
Back when I started teaching in '99, my students would always talk about wrestling all the time, but I didn't know who the Rock or Stone Cold was. So, because I wanted to be able to better relate to my students, I started watching wrestling. Clearly, this wasn't the wrestling I watched when I was younger. No, Vince McMahon (WWE's owner) had taken it to the next level by developing a very simple concept: a soap opera for men involving fighting, backstabbing, blood, violence and sexual innuendo provided by silicon enhanced women. Ingenious.
Round about '00, a atino wrestler by the name of Eddie Guerrero made his way to the WWE (then the WWF) prior to the total collapse of the once great WCW franchise. When he arrived, he arrived with best friend Chris Benoit, Dean Malenko & Perry Saturn. On the night of his debut, he dislocated his left elbow in the middle of a match. Eddie...kept wrestling. This guy was born into a family of wrestler's, his father wrestled...his brothers, his nephew Chavo is still with the WWE. He loved the business of entertaining, and he was one of the best in terms of control, athleticism and technique. I could see he had a lot going on sometimes, but, you could tell he loved performing for the fans. He fucking lived and died in the business of wrestling. To be honest, he was one of my favorites or just that reason: he loved what he did, and he was one of the best at it. He loved to perform, and he had charisma that you can't teach. He was my favorite behind The Undertaker and Kurt Angle.
It's humbling, heartbreaking even, to see the giants that make a living of jumping off of steel cages and fighting through injuries...men who build their entire persona on beig the toughest of the tough...cry like babies because this guy died. It's sad to think, this guy died at 38 years old. That he just celebrated his fourth anniversary of sobriety, that he just got his family back not long ago, that he became a born again Christian roughly 5 years ago. Then agin, it's beautiful, too. That he was able to get right before he left. I hope that I can have the passion and conviction with whatever I choose to do in life that Eddie had. That people who never met me can see in my eyes that I sincerely love and appreciate what I do.
To see Vince McMahon, (the 7 foot, 500+ pound) Big Show, Batista, Triple H...crying...human...is humbling. You guys may think it's trivial, but how many people who aren't yor flesh and blood will remember you the way you want them to whenever it is that you leave. That man was a hero to children all over the world. Imagine if Hulk Hogan died when you were a kid...especially when you take into consideration that there aren't a great deal of super star minority wrestlers...even now. You have to think what that means to that little hispanic kid in the hood way down in Texas...L.A.
Funny thing is, I used to kinda worry about his health because he kept getting bigger, but he did have a history of drugs and alcohol abuse. Mix that with 250 days out of the year on the road, wrestling through being sick, injured, without your loved ones...can wear on you. I'm sad that he's gone, because he brought so much to what did, and I admired his commitment and passion. But, I do believe that he was blessed to leave a great legacy, be remembered for being passionate and giving, loving his family, and being a good man of God. When it's all said and done, any man with common sense would want the same when he dies.
R.I.P. to a legend. Viva Eddie Guerrero.

*sigh*
I am so tired right now. Not physically, but emotionally. I’m fuckin’ angry at everybody in the world, and nobody all at the same time. It feels like whatever I have put my energy into the last few years is falling apart…and most of it I can’t control and isn't by my doing. That’s a terrible feeling; a feeling that you can’t rub to make it better like a stubbed toe. This is a pain that they haven’t created an ointment for…and I don’t like it. I’m not in the mood to deal with people, or even put up the façade that everything is okay with me. Frankly, it ain’t, and frankly I don’t have the energy.
This is the only way I know how to vent…to write. And right now that isn’t enough. I’m full right now. Filled with all the times I let shit slide, that I humbled myself…with all the times I didn’t say fuck you even if I didn’t mean it. Because right now I do. I’m drowning in this bullshit that others have created and I’ll be damned if I allow you to lend me a hand when you helped put me here. Not when I would never do this to you. I’m angry because I don’t feel like myself…and haven’t for quite some time. I don’t really even know what that is anymore. I really want to start over, anything to get rid of this weight that has been slowing me down the past few years. I’m tired of petty people, fake smiles, disingenuous inquiries, backstabbing, feuding familily members and loved ones, friends that disappear right as shit gets messy…I’m just tired.
And please believe this don’t mean any deep shit like I’m on the edge to the point where I’d hurt myself. This is to the point where I simply won’t fuck with anybody like that. To the point I probably won’t return the calls of folks who only call me when they need something. To the point where I’m going to carry things how ya’ll do. If you want to act funny…fuck you. If you don’t feel me or fool with me like that…cool. Don’t speak to me. And keep my name out of your fucking mouth. I don't say anything that I can't say in front of your face. I’m tired of being the nice guy that lets everybody slide… It takes more energy than I have or you deserve. I guess the biggest thing is, I’m tired of putting myself in folks corner, and being left out there. Being betrayed…being shitted on. I'm also dead tired of people feeling like they can call me on my flaws, but never once checking their own.
Here’s an honest point of admission: I wrote a piece a while back called “baggage check”, and although that was inspired by someone else, it has great importance to me personally. See, I’m a very good judge of character. I can normally discern if you’re shady or not just by looking you in your eyes. Which, oddly enough, is part of the reason I have a problem with eye contact sometimes. I don’t like to see all of peoples demons when I just meet them….I don’t want to believe that’s all there is to them…because many times it’s not. But, on the other hand, sometimes it is. Things is, I don’t want to deny people the opportunity to evolve and become better people. One of the things that frustrates me the most about people is, they often create a box for you. And once they think they have you figured out, they put you in that box forever.
The other (occasional…I’ve gotten a lot better with this) problem with eye contact is because I don’t like people to see that I have shit I’m struggling with, too. I’m always the reliable one in my family, the dude that doesn’t make mistakes…which naturally people tend to take advantage of. I don't always have the answers or have it together, but I don't use that as an excuse to act an ass either. My nature is to look out for people, but my defense is I can’t do that because people tend to take advantage. I’m getting off task here…I just wanted to get some of this out. Last thing I need is for some poor sap to say the wrong thing to me right now, especially @ work. It might not be good for them, or me.
Peace & healing ya’ll…for real.
One.

…I’ve been in a heavy transition period. I’ve essentially stopped talking to people…right on down to my mother, which is crazy. Something I felt I had to do, whether or not I liked it; I felt it was the best thing for me. It’s not like someone will call, and I don’t answer the phone, it’s really just so much was going on around me that was affecting me, but there was so little of it that I could affect. There were some things that were even beginning to affect my health; it’s hard to be healthy without peace of mind. It was because of all that that I had to shut down. Actually there’s more to it than that, but there are things even I won’t put on my journal. Not much, though. My apologies for this, normally I’m just slacking when but so much time passes between entries. This…this is something else. I don’t really want to write this one out in my journal and expose it as part of my therapy towards healing. Rather, I want to just work this our between me, myself and I. I simply need to figure out what is worth getting past and compromising with, and what isn’t. In time, the answer(s) will come. Until then, I will try to keep my journal nice and fluffy for you guys that actually still come back.
Oh, don’t know how much I feel like doing this…but, I may feel like changing up the site again. This look was designed to be an intermediate thing, until I got something better up… *sigh* I don’t know, I’ll see. It ain’t gonna happen before Christmas if it is gonna happen, at least I don’t think. Anywho, I think I will be releasing a new book and CD in the earlier parts of next year. I gotta lotta demons I need to shake loose, and a lot of haters posin’ as friendlies.
PS- Is it me, or can Akon not sing at all? I don’t know, I think he’s more of an acquired taste, like Jimi or Louis… But at least they brought a mean guitar and trumpet game, respectively.
Eye Will Holla

Here I sit
On a park bench
In the middle of an urban jungle next to Forrest
Collecting feathers and affixing them to sentiments that I guess only bear significance to me
Sampling randomized chocolates and theorizing which tastes most like your soul
Recounting how we have always been like peas and carrots
This
Is the scene
That landed on the cutting room floor
The scene where I flashback to me and her
Or
She and me
Have a chance to loosely juxtapose my life next to he and Jenny’s story
Because like Forrest and Jenny
We were seemingly like peas and carrots
Folks always thought we were so cute together
So did I for that matter
But we will leave that for the directorial commentary
This scene features me
Heartbroken sitting next to Forrest as he waits for the bus to take him roughly four blocks down the street
The screen transitions as we get the fuzzy borders indicative of a flashback scene
Fast forward the DVD to the part where she said I was merely half of what she has been to me
Take knife
Insert it in heart
Find melancholy music and press start
Perhaps being there when she decided to keep her stones and stand up to her father by simply forgiving him, wasn’t enough
My attendance at multiple plays on successive days wasn’t enough
Toast and tea when the cramps were too much
Wasn’t enough
Rubbing her feet before she even had to tell me they were hurting
Observing the minor body language to know when she was in pain
Erykah Badu’s live version of Next Lifetime
Wasn’t enough
How fitting that would be our song
Never quite seeing the irony until you were gone
At least until you decided to move on
Hoping other men will bring you the rush you’ve been looking for like on open window ledges that I allegedly couldn’t provide
Knowing that I’m not from any place the average joe has heard of
I’m simply Joe
I am a simple man, but I do know what love is
Love is looking forward to the weekend simply because you will be around to grace me with your presence in the morning
Mourning when you have to leave on Sunday’s like Red Riding Hood running off to Grandma’s
Looking for any reason to get you to stay
Yet on this day
There’s just you and me
Two well-acquainted strangers who thought they knew each other like their own reflection
Trying to convey what we thought was already understood by the other
But I never said anything hurtful
Never pointed the finger
Never used past situations to place blame and tilt the game in my favor
Just tried to get you to see how deeply you hurt me
And how nonchalant you were in doing so
I said I don’t think we can still be friends
You resigned to emotions and agreed I needed space to heal
Not realizing all I wanted was the space for us to start over
For you to act like an actress and fight for me
Or, more to the point
Us
To give an Oscar worthy performance with what little screen time we had and make me forget how much you scarred me before the scene ended
After the bald man leaves Forrest in utter disbelief and before the old black lady replaces me
Said I’m cutting back from everybody
And you accepted it
You said I was only there for you at best seventy five percent of the time
And never corrected it
Gave you free reign of my heart, yet never respected it
And all I want to do is go back
Back before my heart was assaulted with napalm-like notations of all the times I messed up
Before you repeatedly told me how my indiscretions were accepted, yet each one was clearly recollected to illustrate the non-existent similarities between now and then
It’s like trying to literally compare
Now…and then
So now,
Here I am like lieutenant Dan in the crow’s nest bearing into rain and wind
Almost defying God to change my life
Because the fact is
No matter how hurt I am right now
When all the wrong that was going on in my life
You were one of the few constants that was actually right
I simply want to go back to the dirt roads where our story began
I always thought we were like peas and carrots
Or maybe kool-aid and sugar
Water was optional because we were supposed to sustain each other
But I forgot,
You love soda
And to be honest
I like Cran-Apple Juice
But for the sake of this film
We’ll stick to peas and carrots
Only because that’s what Forrest says
And this is his story
Not ours
We didn’t make it past the cutting room floor
Maybe we’ll make it as a bonus scene
All I know is that I came back to tell him how our story ended
And he was fading in the distance
Running towards the same love we were running towards
Never realizing our feet weren’t moving
And because he was much too fast for me
What, with his touring the country and being hopped up on Dr. Pepper’s
All I could do was sit down and tell the next stranger about how we started
Back in school
When I sat down before I was given the invitation
Choose to remember the good things
And one by one, let all the feathers I’ve collected sail into the wind
And hope
That some day
You’ll let go of your feathers too

This post either proved to be cosmic irony, or clairvoyance