The Perks of Being a Cuban.

One of my biggest fears as a kid was being in a car at night, I was always afraid a stranger would just open the door and hop in. I still lock  the doors as soon as i get into a car, I know better now, but it's still a force of habit

Alright. my hair's going through weird things at the moment. Since it was chopped off sloppily a few months ago, it's not yet recuperated or grown out properly. It has good days and bad, but at least it feels really nice. But I don't really plan on getting it cut for the simple fact that I can never find a good hair place. And I've never gotten a perfect hair cut.

I realize as i think about it how much i hate the entire hair cutting experience. It's all really an embarrassing ordeal isn't it? You've got to show up to this place with ideas in your hair of unfulfillable hairspectations-- other peoples hair you think you can pull off properly, and from the minute you begin describing what you want, shame ensues.

It's all very emasculating, not that I'm particularly burly, with my slim pants and fancy sunglasses. After your hair's washed with the sweet smelling shampoo, you're made to walk around the entire hair place with a towel wrapped ornately round your head. And you're trying to not wet the ground or wet your clothes, so here you are, with a towel on your head (maybe even a pink towel) doing a funny walk.

The hair cuts not too embarrassing. I don't like talking to the cutter-guy while they're doing their job. Firstly because I've got nothing particularly interesting or sparky to share with them, and second because I imagine if they've got time for a chin wag, they're very well not focused on making my hair look sexy. And my sexiness must be number one priority.

My least favorite part is the end, where you stare yourself down in the mirror, looking all awkward as we all do right after a haircut. Feeling a bit idiotic and unsure of yourself. And then there's the silence. The hairdresser's fishing for compliments and approval. No use really, if it's a crap haircut the damage has been done. What can you say really, other than "goodbye?" They can't grown the hair back for you. Telling them they've done a crap job after the fact is no use.

So, no haircut for me for a while. Not until I find someone I can trust.

I write a lot of things. I barely share them anymore. My lyrics have melody now, which makes them weaker verbally but more cohesive. So I'm proud of them. I've just started writing a TV script, for fun obviously as I have no ins in the television world and it's barely any good. I get inspired a lot by other people's words. That's why it takes me so long to get any reading done. I'm reading Little Children by Tom Perrotta right now. He's one of the most brilliant authors of this generation in my opinion. I so admire his grasp of language and his impeccable understanding of the neurotic human mind. I hope to one day be half as emotionally aware as he is, and a third as verbal about it. He's inspired me a lot lately. The testament to a great author is one whose words inspire yo rto write down some of your own. It has taken me forever to finish this book because every page fills me with more ideas about my own characters. And I'm extremely grateful, because otherwise I would barely be writing at all.
Truthfully, I've missed the process, having not completed any worthwhile or substantial amounts of writing since 2006. I'm trying to get back into it. It's so difficult to motivate oneself when there is'nt the slightest bit of pressure behind the work you're creating. There is no due date, no one to read it, not a single person to forcinly share it with like a teacher, editor etc. I could send it to whoever i wanted, a friend, an old now cold and distant former teacher, anyone I wanted really. I could post it on those strange crative writing forums. But what's the use? There's no due date or deadline. I have all the time in the world to create something out of nothing or to just create nothig at all. It's terrifying. I need to start again, it would be nice. It would maybe stop my mind from creating dialogues between fictional characters. I've played whole movies in my mind that I havent written. In my head there are even a few shitty drafts of "She Loves Lucy" my Lesbian sitcom. I've just begun writing "Wasteland" a teen drama based on the UK show "Skins." It won't be going anywhere. But at least I'm not just wasting my tothing.

Not really. Nothing's really changed. Maybe it's time for a change? I feel like I am very boring. I don't know why. Just today. A lot of the time I think I'm awesome. Today I feel boring. I think I'll start wearing cologne again. I stopped when I started going to high school. In a school for all boys there's absolutely nobody to smell nice for. Even though at Fordham there's no one in particular, maybe it doesn't hurtto smell nice? I don't have B O or anything, I just wanna try something different. So I've been googling and ordered free samples of some colognes, just to see. If i don't like any, no biggie, they're free.
I keep missing my hair cut appointment. I need to find a good place to go to around here, some place that cuts young people's hair. I've gotten my hair cut by old men my whole life. Which at times has resulted in sub par hair results. I kinda wanna dye my hair. Is that weird? Would that be weird? I dunno, it's almost summer time and I still feel very "wintery."
I already told everyone I know who lives near the beach that we are totally going this summer. I'm usually not a beach fan. I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm dying to go. I like the ocean, I hate the sand, I hate the sun. I hate the heat. WHY do i wanna go to the beach so much? I don't get it! but i really really do. I need to buy board horts. Maybe I'll intentionally miss my bus tomorrow and go shopping at quiksilver/billabong/element.
I'm still writing, semi-daily. I find a lot of my writing hasds gotten more simplified now that I write with melody. There are melodies in my head despite my lack of playing any instrument. I wish I could play an instrument, it would be nice. So because the writing isnt as good without the melody, I've stopped posing a lot of my writting, But that doesn't mean that I've stopped blogging or stopped writing. See? I totally remembered my password to blogspot, so there.

I would never abandon you!!! i just haven't had anything worth saying. well that's not true. Everyone has something worth saying, or writing... or at least hey think they do. Maybe i've been too busy to notice you. but i do like writing here. i've had a lot of work, more work than ever before. last year was like 8th grade. this is my first year in a big boy college. and while i have come to appreciate my experiences at stockton, i have never been prouder of any decision i've made. despite unbelievable challenges, i am positive fordham is a good fir for me, or will be. my feet are still getting wet i think. i'm thinking of plunging soon, maybe.
I write every day. I try to at least, once aday. even a phrase, or an idea for something. I have so many unorganized ideas that fly in and out of my head. i wish i had more retention, or a quiet half hour to just get it all down. there's a lot flying around up here, i'm pointing to my brrain, it would be nice to share it with others. but it gets away from me a lot of the time. i miss writing my stories, i miss it deeply. There was nothing more unbearable and rewarding to me than working on a story, I miss it a lot.
I feel now how others may have felt at Stockton when I spoke with them. They would always say "big city boy, he's so smart." I am by far not the smartest person in my school this year. Definitely not. These people talk like I wite. How can words pour out of them that easily? Complex brilliant words eloquent and flowy. They talk like poetry, they speak in melodies, it's fascinating to watch. I hate a few of them. Well just one girl, she gets on my nerves a lot. She raises her hand and just says random brilliant words, she rambles more eloquently than I write. It takes me deep concentration to write like how she speaks. I think she's showing off. Because she usually just starts speaking before her brain reaches her point. She takes the class on her brain's journey with her, and I really never feel like taking her trip.
I like being where I am. It's not perfect, but nothing really ever is, and that's a good thing. Perfect seems boring.. I like challenging myself, and that is definitely what's been happening. Things are good, blog-god. Thanks for listening.

I’ll get away while there’s time
I’ll fly well into the night
Well into tomorrow

Move on past the dense fog
Move on from where you are
While I’m still young

Is there a place where time’s still
A place for me to just wait
Where I won’t grow old
Or keep missing you more

Oh Never…
It never existed
This place in my head
Where my dreams were bred
Were kept and preserved
Today washed away
Oh Never…
You never existed

I’m getting older too fast
I swore I’d never do that
I’m covered in regret

Thought I could fly past the night
Into never ending light
Into tomorrow

Is there a place where time’s still
A place to just wait
Where I won’t grow old
Or keep missing you more

Oh Never…
It never existed
This place in my head
Where my dreams were fed
Were kept and preserved
Today washed away
Oh Never…
You never existed

El agua sabe a sangre
Y a lágrimas llenos de sal
Tan frió y tan infinito
No tiene por donde acabar

Ay, no me olvido del mar
Que suele guardar
Memorias, recuerdos,Deseos y sueños
Por el camino a la libertad

El agua sabe a sangre
Las olas recogen el dolor
Tan solos y tan desesperados
Buscando un mundo mejor

Ay, no me olvido del mar
Que suele guardarMemorias,
recuerdos,Deseos y sueños
Por el camino a la libertad

La tierra huele a sangre
Mi gente se sacrifica
Por no tener remedio
Al mar ellos se entregan

Ay, no me olvido del mar
Que suele guardar
Memorias, recuerdos,Deseos y sueños
Por el camino a la libertad

For the most part, today's been fine. But with the combination of the rain and general frustration, a wave of bad energy just washed over me and now I feel vwery blahhh. Listening to my parents fight, having dinner be disgusting, being generally annoyed, being asked my password for collegeboard, it keeps piling. The password thing-- There's nothing on my college board that's private, really. The problem however is that my parents needed my password. It's a privacy thing, nothing in this house is private. They know the passwords to everything and it frustrates me. My door can't be closed, they ask why when it is.
I've realized tonight how different this year will be, and years to come. The great school that I can't completely experience because I'm at home. Checking in, being home on time, not being able to do school-ey things. It's an adjustment that just now is setting in.
I remember being called at 4 AM in Stockton one night. I was awae, as was this person. "I can't sleep" he said "m eeither"-- me. "Wanna hang out" "Sure let's go to the laundry room." That can't happen now. It's just really really different, and sort of not the best.....
At this time, everyopne's going back to school. People are pcking, people are buying new things, getting ready for the new year. I remember last year what a scary and exciting time it was, I can only imagie what it's like to go back to campus fully aware of what the school brings you, totally confident and just as excited as the year before. I completely do NOT regret my choice to leave Stockton, it wasn't a great school. But after dorming for a year, and experiencing the freedom that brings, this is going to be hard.
I tried to explain it to dad "then I guess you should have stayed at Stockton"... this is what I live with. I really hate whining, my problem today is not interesting. But writing it out gets it out of me , I think. And for the past few hours this feeling of loss has been dragging me around. I've lost the ability to act my age, and do the things I'm supposed to not supposed to be able to do.

I'm sick to my stomach, over analyzing, and over thinking. I'm so much under pressure, pressure that i've put upon myself. Pressure that isn't raelly there. It's all in my head. So i got into the school I wanted to go to. but now, i really don't know if that was the right fit for me. I do well with smaller classes, I like my teachers knowing my name, recognizing my face, talking after class. I like my teachers to take interest in me, and I don't think that'll happen here.
I look at other schools, with a real campus, a Quad, a library, a cafeteria, a parking lot. I'm going to school in the middle of New York City, as cool as it sounds, none of the things I mentioned exist at my school. Like most college kids sit out on a lawn, Fordham students have to go to Central Park. Like most college kids who get to go to the campus library at 2 AM and write a paper, Fordham students have to go to the NYC Public Library. Absolutely everyone I know at Fordham commute, and I know a lot of people. Because there really is no campus. There are dorms, and they're nice, but there aren't that many.
All of the things that come to mind when you think of a college camopus aren't at Fordham. and while it's totally what I wanted this time last year, it's a bit extreme. I'm going from absolute wilderness to absolutely urban.
I hate my inability to make a choice, I hate making mistakes, and as phenomenal as this school is, I really need to know that it's the right fit for me, and I really don't know yet.
I'm deliriously confused.

I start many projects. I give myself a lot of credit. I assume I'll pursue these things to their ends, whichever they may be. I started a story, a possible book. It has 2 pages, and I am ready to scrap it. It's totally a ridicuous undertaking, and involves subjects I'm not familiar with.
I've started the story off on such broad grey terms, it could go ina limitless amount of directions, but i really don't know if anyof them are particularly interesting. and if an intersting one does exist, somewhere in the cosmos, won't it please fall from the sky and bonk me on the head?