A Lesson Through My Eyes

Mama

As a check-in of sorts, it’s been about two weeks since graduation. I’m still in that limbo between post-college and pre-career. The duration of this limbo is self-imposed, for various reasons. It’s really rough out there for kids trying to break into the industry; it seems I’m going to be returning to school as days go by, with some menial job for pocket money to suffice if nothing comes up before mid-summer. But this isn’t what I wanted to discuss at length here. A mile stone is fast approaching. I’m going to be moving out in about a month’s time. And rather than being nothing more than ecstatic for the fact, I’ve also been brooding. Dreading. Terrified.

“Don’t leave me alone
Don’t leave me alone
I can’t stand the way the world feels
When i’m walking alone

Don’t leave me alone
Don’t leave me alone
I can’t stand the way the world feels
When i’m walking alone.”

I don’t think people around me really understand what it’s like to feel like the majority of your family’s love skirts around the person you are. I remember distinctly, for my sister’s baby shower, where I talked to her about how hard it was to bring my boyfriend to the event, and to be unable to hold his hand. Or to be any type of affectionate with him around my mom, without there being a fight, or her embarrassment compelling her to make me stop. My boyfriend was coming regardless (it was the first event with my family he’d go to), but I was telling her how hard it was. And do you know what she said? Nothing. I got no reply. Not the day after, not later in the week. Nothing. No sympathy. No words of comfort. Nothing. I would’ve even taken a, ‘suck it up, walk it off,’ but no. I got silence to my words. People don’t understand, and you know what? That’s the one thing that didn’t get better. I’ve been mostly out since 2008, and that still hasn’t changed. I could never talk to my mom about my boy problems, or my sister for that matter. And me being mostly out, with my mom reacting so negatively to me, I never got the courage to tell me dad directly. For all intents and purposes, he still doesn’t know the truth. And the silence between us doesn’t bode any change in that department anytime soon either. The closest I’ll get to a family love is with my cousins. And I am forever thankful for that.

“Mama we all go to hell,
Mama we all go to hell.
I’m writing this letter and wishing you well,
Mama we all go to hell.
Oh well now,
Mama we’re all gonna die,
Mama we’re all gonna die.
Stop asking me questions,
I’d hate to see you cry
Mama we’re all gonna die.

And when we go don’t blame us, yeah
We’ll let the fires just bathe us, yeah
You made us oh so famous,
We’ll never let you go,
And when you go don’t return to me my love.”

It gets real hard to articulate everything at this point, but. I’m scared as soon as I leave, that’s going to be it. It’s all that’s been on my mind since the talks of moving have been going on. I take all my stuff with me, relocate to a new place, and nothing is going to change. Nothing is going to get better. And the sad matter is nothing is getting better with me at home. It’s more like I’m here for the fact, because nothing is being discussed, nothing is being brought up. And it doesn’t help that I can’t bring it up without being shamed. It’s almost like I’m finally running away. Picking something else over family once again. And history has burned me for that decision time and time again. Those past choices have also already done their damage, evidenced by me not being chosen as Natalie’s godfather, or the way I’m always so quiet at family parties. I guess it’s only naturally to be more than apprehensive.

“Mama we’re all full of lies,
Mama we’re meant for the flies
And right now they’re building a coffin your size,
Mama we’re all full of lies.
Well mother, what the war did to my legs and to my tongue,
You should have raised a baby girl,
I should have been a better son.
If you could coddle the infection
They can amputate at once.
You should have been,
I could have been a better son.

And when we go don’t blame us, yeah
We’ll let the fires just bathe us, yeah
You made us oh so famous,
We’ll never let you go.
She said ‘You ain’t no son of mine’,
For what you done they’re gonna find, yeah,
A place for you and just you mind,
Your manners when you go.
And when you go don’t return to me my love.
That’s right.”

Once again, I have to have faith that things will get better, because if I don’t have that, then there’s no point in talking about all this. It’s got to be me who wants this to change, obviously, since this is evidently only really affecting me. WIth my over-analyzations, sensitivity, and all that. I’m going through with this move regardless, considering that I have very little other option in terms of getting to a job, and since I need it for me. After my sister moved out, it seemed as though she wasn’t home for quite some time. But today she’s around often. I can only hope that happens for me as well.

“‘Cause the soul’s rock hard but the heart’s trapped underneath
And the weight of it all gets enough just to crush the best out of you and me
But I swear that there’s someone who cares here enough to set us free
And if the world don’t turn just enough to bring her honest
Then I guess we’re better off forgotten.”

-J

Nightmares: A Eulogy

I totally forgot to immediately write about this when it happened, since I do have a penchant for cataloging the sleep paralysis as it happens. It has been a busy April, I suppose. In any case, this was towards the beginning of the month, the first Saturday my dad took me to Stockton to visit my aunt who flew in from El Salvador. We left at a ridiculously early time (for me at least), and besides the car’s transmission exploding on us, it was a smooth, quiet trip. When we got to the house, no one was home except my uncle and his father. I promptly made my way to the couch and plopped onto it, headphones in and a bit grumpy. I looked to the wall where I saw a vigil of sorts was made. Pictures of our deceased relatives hung there, most recently, my Tia Mila. I remember feeling pangs of guilt, because I hadn’t been able to say my goodbyes before she passed. I closed my eyes, hiding, and next thing I knew, I was on my side asleep.

Only, I wasn’t asleep. I was in that in-between stage of rest and awake (my dad brought Chico with us who kept waking me up by licking my nose). I felt, something was here with me. Not my uncle, great-uncle, or dad. Something else, something pure. It was a warm, soothing feeling. I felt it touch my shoulder, and it said something I couldn’t understand. In that moment, the waves of paralysis hit me again, and it felt like I was hitting the floor, but this time. I wasn’t scared. It wasn’t all of the times before that made me hardened to the experience, especially considering the last time was by far a very terrifying ordeal. But, I couldn’t describe it, other than it feeling…pure.

I wake up right when my cousin Shara walks into the house. I haven’t seen her in a few weeks, so I was real happy that I wasn’t going to bored alone here. She asks me if I wanted to go with her to the bank, to which I said, “Dear sweet geezus yes get me outta here.” And so we make our way to where we think downtown is. Mind you, she had a GPS, but for some reason, it wasn’t working for us. We drove around for a bit, taking random turns, when we eventually end up at a graveyard. Then Shara tells me,

“Wait…this is where Tia Mila is buried.”

I can’t begin to tell you what my nightmares mean, why they’ve decided to plague me only within the last two years, or if there’s proof of some type of afterlife, or something spiritual to that effect. I can only tell you this: I firmly believe that my aunt came to me that day. I believe that she guided me to her grave to say my goodbyes. And I only truly believe because after we returned to the car, my cousin’s GPS was working perfectly. Take from this story what you will, but to my aunt, I’m happy I finally got to say my goodbyes, even if it wasn’t when I meant them to be. It feels to me like you’ve found peace, but I can only hope that this is true.

-J

For All These Times Son, For All These Times

Well, I am home now. A little bit tired, and really, really full. That lasagna/chicken marsala combo really hit the spot. My cousin’s here, the one who moved from Texas to go to AI in the city; he’s spending the night before going to the party tomorrow, and I think I’ll bum a ride with him to the city Saturday because I’m seeing Go Radio with Jayson. I’ll more than likely be staying there for a few days, at least until Tuesday before returning to Emeryville to hang out with from friends…okay I’m just talking about my plans. There’s obviously a more…pressing matter to discuss.

“For all these times, that we walked away
For all these times, that I’ve heard you say
Give me something to believe in,
Give me someone to believe in.
For all these times, and it starts today.”

First off, I want to thank each and every person that came out today to watch my class and I walk across that stage. It sincerely means a lot to me (I don’t want to list, because I fear forgetting an all-too important name in it, but you know who you are! :]). Now, I’ve seen many a graduation ceremony during my attending Ex’pression, and I still have at least three more ceremonies I must definitely watch as well. You’d think with experiencing the event so many times, I would be a bit tired of it all. But I was as jittery and nervous as ever. I was making myself sweat with all my tweaks and nerves, it was pretty gnarly. The photographer said our class photo was one of best she shot (and that’s because we know how to get silly), and I personally loved our Salutatorian and Valedictorian speeches. I know they’ve told us this a lot, but I really do believe we as a class, are a special group of kids.

“A generation always waiting,
A revolution passed this time.
Another reason to take stock
Of all these things that you have left behind.
Feelings that will never leave you
Never make you change your mind,
You gotta make it out past this one
Always the wrong place at the wrong time.

Just a 20 year old, now armed with a BA. A lot of kids straight out of high school don’t make it in my school. I was the second youngest in my class. I plowed through some insurmountable challenges, I had fun along the way too. At the end of the day, I know I’ve changed, but I still feel like me. I still think that I’ve stayed true to who I am. And that is something I should definitely be proud of.

“Lipgloss lies, doin’ the time.
Never gonna miss what I left behind.
If I get the chance to do it again,
I wouldn’t change it! Change it!
Change It! Change It!

Lipgloss lies, doin the time.
Never gonna miss what I left behind.
If I get the chance to do it again,
I wouldn’t change it! Change it!
Change It! Change It!”

I’m still nervous though. Not even going to lie. The future still freaks me the fuck out. Not even the future, the present. It’s here, and it’s happening, and if I don’t do something about it, it will get the best of me. It will win. I don’t want to be a casualty. I refuse. I don’t want to be that guy that did nothing with the knowledge he acquired. I don’t want to be the one stuck in a rut because I didn’t try to achieve something in life. I don’t want to have the wool pulled over my eyes at the idea of easy money, or a safe place. I don’t want to fail.

“So can you feel your heartbeat racing?
Can you feel the tension rise?
Can you see the road you’re walking?
Are these times too hard to recognize?
Part of where you’re going,
Is knowing where you’re coming from.
The hardest part of moving forward
Are these times when we all stand alone.”

So, what’s next for me? A road that won’t be easy, that much is certain. As glamorous as the ending may be, getting there is going to require a lot of toil and work. And let’s be frank, a good portion of the next few years is going to be spent doing work that I simply do not want to do. Of all this, I am aware, and of all this, I am ready. Because I won’t deviate from getting through Pixar’s double doors.

“I’m gonna make sure that I put this place on the map
If there’s one promise I make it’s that
If there’s one promise I make it’s that
Some have told me that this could be the best of me
And some have said (yeah, I’ve heard it)
But I’m not buying it
Yeah, I’ve heard it.”

-J

The Finish Line

Here I am, last day of school almost exactly a month behind me. Graduation is tomorrow. Had a bit of a clumsy finish, senioritis hitting me as it does with most individuals, but as it stands, I definitely came out higher than I ever imagined going in. Now, the future is no longer the future, it is the present. And it’s always freaked me out, just thinking about it. Now that it’s here? I am quite near hysterics.

“Graduate, what’s a kid to do now?
Get away, yeah-ah.
We’ve got so much to prove.
Cause it’s time to move on
And I’m stuck to let go,
But then Wonderwall comes on the radio,
I flashback to the night in your parent’s yard,
When we drank too much and we talked about God…”

Not gonna lie, I have immensely enjoyed this small break from the last day of school, and graduation, a bit short of a month. Granted, I haven’t been able to go to school to work on my stuff as much as I would’ve liked to these past few weeks. The only car I could have access to had its transmission basically meltdown on my dad and I going to Stockton to visit family. So I’ve been stuck at home, stir-crazy after two weeks and more than a little stressed out. Come tomorrow, the safety net is gone, and the clock begins to tick. I’ve five and a half months to secure some sort of job to start paying my student loans. But I have a lot riding against me in this endeavor. Although my car has been found in one piece and everything, it still isn’t driveable just yet. Because of that, I don’t rightly have a way of getting to any place easily. And without a phone, it’s a lot harder to apply anywhere as well, as most places require it. I’ve no money to my name to even use public transit. And I’ve the loan clock ticking on me everyday. Everything about this is simply screaming at me. I’m freaking out.

“The earth is warm next to my ear
Insect noise is all that I hear
A magic trick makes the world disappear
The skies are dark, they’re dark but they’re clear.

A distant motorcade and suddenly there’s joy
The snowing tickertape blurs all my senses numb
It’s like the finish line where everything just ends
The crack of radio seems close enough to touch.”

I really can’t say what it is about growing up that has my so freaked out. I guess I could just give it a blatant label, which is failure. Who isn’t afraid of it? I know I won’t be the first, nor the last, to be occupied with this fear. But I don’t wanna classify it as just failure. It’s something more. It’s like, I feel I’ve set myself up for a lot. Not trying to sound cocky, or anything like that, because it’s simply not the case. When it came down to choosing my path, and the way I’ve acted out (somehow these go hand in hand for some strange reason), I basically went against my parent’s wishes on a near daily basis. I set myself up for a lot in this way; I want to prove to them, to a lot of people, really, that I made the right choice. That it all meant something, that I made the best of it.

“Growing up, won’t bring us down.
Growing up, it won’t bring us down.
We’re in this together,
Yeah, we’ll make it somehow,
Nothing’s gonna stop us now…
Growing up won’t bring us down
Growing up won’t bring us down
Growing up won’t bring us down.”

The battle hasn’t been an easy one, I’ve said this more times than I care to count. Looking back through my archive, which is oddly a very vivid account of my time at school, I took a lot of damage. I nearly caved in, nearly gave up on numerous occasions. But I didn’t. And that is something to be proud of.

“Cold water, cleaning my wounds
A sad parade, with a single balloon
I’m done with this, I’m counting to ten
Blue as seas, running to them.”

Tomorrow, I will walk across a stage covered in black, white christmas lights draped over a canopy as the ceiling, a crowd of maybe 100 people watching me receive my diploma, my bachelor’s degree in applied science for Animation & Visual Effects.

“I feel like I am watching everything from space
And in a minute I hear my name and I wake
I think the finish line’s a good place we could start
Take a deep breath, take in all that you could want.”

It’s a new beginning come tomorrow afternoon.

-J