they all fall down

Last year was a time for me when everything was going down in flames. I was standing still in a fucking burning room, completely shellshocked as everything else was burning to an unrecognizable crisp.

This year, I am watching (in horror) the worlds of others comes to a screeching halt, as I stand a world away on my own planet whose charred remains are finally seeing hints of green.
It has been bad news for so many people in my life, and there's nothing I can really do.

Last week I learned (one of) my friend's one-year-old has what appears to be terminal cancer.
This friend, she was a smart, kind, patient,  sincerely religious, "traditional"... damn near perfect young girl. She patiently waited for a guy to come into her life who would not pressure her into changing her good-girl ways... a dude who would appreciate her completely.
Jokes started to run in Hometown about this girl (and her older sister, who was much like her and also single), where others would warn single girls to change their ways unless they wanted to end up like this girl.
I always found her exemplary of what a girl should be... because despite all the bullshit she would hear, she held her head high and her hopes remained unwavering.
She was 38 when she finally found her other half... and they immediately got to baby making. After nearly two years, and numerous miscarriages, they were able to have this "miracle baby."
And now this.
I haven't been able to shake this all week. I'll think of all this shit at random times of the day.
I didn't know I could be this gutted for another person in such a profound way.
I find it all so unfair...

Then last night the father of one of my friends passed away.
I have never been good under these circumstances. It always seems I'm the one who gets more hysterical than my friend who has lost the loved one.
She has posted numerous photos throughout the day, where she is... she's just pouring her heart out... and constantly calls out to her dad like... well... a heartbroken toddler who doesn't want her daddy to go away. I've been crying all fucking day seeing this... just typing this has made my throat tighten up.

Anyway... this is all so... strange. And sad. I'm so very sorry for everyone... truly.

Now that's some hatin

So, this happened on Tuesday:

That's my family. I love that dude, he's pretty damn legit.
Call me crazy, but winning an Oscar is sort of... kind of a big deal.

Upon my return to FB, I noticed this photo didn't have nearly as many "likes" or comments as I'd fucking suspect something of this nature to acquire. It's a GODDAMN OSCAR! (HIS second)
Worse yet was seeing how the majority of the likes and comments were from non-family members... non-compatriots.

Here I am complaining about "haters" and whatnot... and this guy, who has legit accolades to his name, STILL doesn't get the props he deserves from his people. (I'd fucking start calling all the streets in Hometown after him, are you shitting me?!)

Ain't that some shit...
Being Mexican-American, A Mexican-American from Hometown is... a mind-fuck... a terrible, infuriating mind-fuck.
Silly.

What does inspire me, besides this guy's incredible success, is how he handles the haters.
Whereas I get worked up into a fucking tizzy, he remains cool. He calmly smiles and shrugs.
"Ni modo."
And continues doing cool shit.
And that's why that guy succeeds.

Pinocchios everywhere

One of my all-time favorite activities has become staring a liar in the face as he or she is telling me a blatant lie. I fucking LOVE it. I do this shit as a learning experience. It helps me catch their "tell."
Once a poker player, always a poker player.
I don't say a word... I usually just smile-- that's MY tell, my tell that I caught you lying and now I'm pissed. If you're telling me something, and you catch my face switch from quiet detachment to a raised brow and a smirk, bitch, I caught you... fuck your integrity, you have none.

Three months into this new year and I've had to deal with this sort of shit WAY too much, and with subject matter that is WAY too fucking deep for my comfort.
While I AM uncomfortable with the way 2016 has gone so far, in terms of being lied to DIRECTLY to my face, it has also proven to be one of the best lessons ever. I am getting so good at catching a lie, I am willing to bet I'd make it to the final table at a few poker tourneys.
This, of course, doesn't do much for the pent up anger I'm accumulating.
Bitch, WHY lie? WHY do people find it necessary to lie and manipulate? It will never cease boggling my fucking mind... or pissing me off. What a major act of disrespect to one's intellect, to have to deal with some fucking dishonest asshole.

I'm not mad, right now, I'm actually entertained... but I swear, one more motherfucker lobs a lie in my direction this week, I'm fucking them up.

Birthday blues

I had not experienced such a smooth birthday in years.
Sometimes I'm angry as fuck... scoffing at the bullshit "HBD" messages others were basically forced into handing me thanks to harassing-ass Facebook.
Sometimes I'm depressed as fuck seeing how someone I held in the highest esteem apparently ignores my birthday.
Sometimes I'm overwhelmed at the thought of responding to so many messages.
Sometimes I'm ecstatic at the simple thought of someone thinking about me for at least five seconds of their day.

It's a mixed bag, and I never know what I'll be feeling.
Last year, I was in absolutely NO position to gamble with my feelings. I knew it was in my complete best interest to pull myself away from the situation all together.
It was so dark, so heavy, so suffocating-- the place I was in exactly a year ago. Breathing was a burden... putting on clothes was often not an option... showering was the stupidest suggestion... thinking ahead AN HOUR was often a task too difficult for me to perform.
I'm in no way trying to be poetic... or whatever it can be interpreted to be... I'm being sincere, truthful, accurate, when I say that I was seeing without really seeing, and hearing without really hearing. It was the ugliest, murkiest, most dangerous fog enveloping my life.

But this year... it's... nice.
I'm not hopeful-- that has since disappeared in my life... "hope."
I'm just at peace with... my place in life.
Last year was the moment I realized that... things suck, things suck for me.
This year has been... a moment to realize that I must keep moving. Staying home and not giving a fuck isn't very fun... it's kind of scary. I've come to terms with the fact that some people are meant to experience wild success, while some of us are here to... not. I also can't complain, because while I may not ever know what certain things feel like, I still have it better than so many people on the planet.
I've come to terms with the missing pieces in my life.
And the clouds are gone.

I saved people who don't give a shit about me the stress of having to ACT like we're cool.
I saved myself the frustration of watching certain people SEE that it's my birthday and not say shit.
I saved myself.

And then the most unexpected flowers showed up today.
Orchids.
And I cried.

People really undervalue simple things... like getting flowers.
When I first me MGH and JC, I was seven... and I was watching over four year old JC as he frolicked through a grassy field... few blossoming flowers in sight. The memory is somewhat hazy now... but it remains there: JC was picking the flowers, and handing them to me.
I hadn't received flowers since then.
I had never received flowers from an actual florist.
I thought back to the days in school... where I'd watch girls receive flowers when getting asked to a school dance, or for their birthday, or for graduation... and act like they weren't shit... and I'd sit back and think how... awesome that must feel like... as fucking lame as it sounds now. Standing there with your lovely bouquet of flowers... that had to feel nice.

Yeah... those flowers really fucked me up. But in a good way.
Happy birthday to me.