Making Adjustments.

The other day, a friend and I had a discussion about the inevitable change that happens to us and those around us.  As much as we don't like these changes, there's really not much we can do about them.  Some of our good friends have fallen victims to these changes and  have become completely different beings.  Its almost impossible to recognize them anymore.  So what do those that haven't changed do?  My friend chose to disregard these changes and continue to pursue her friendship with them.  I, on the other hand, decided there is no point in continuing a friendship if they are no longer the same person I became friends in the first place.  I know it sounds harsh, but why should I maintain those friendships?  Am I obligated to adjust to their new habits?  No.  Our once similar interests, views, and standards have now diminished.  They've become those conformers that will try anything to fit in.  Those egotistical bastards that put others down to make themselves feel better.  Everything I despise in a person.  Call me an asshole, but I guess I have higher standards for friends than most.

Maybe I just need to get out of this circle and see what's out there.

...

i'm so lost, some one please find me.

Persona.

I am who I am, and that'll never change.

Since the day we were born, we developed our own persona, our own identity.  We each have our own likes and dislikes, our own unique handwriting, our own style, even our own daily routine. But how is it that certain people can change who we are?  The mere presence of this individual, whether its a dear friend or some one as insignificant as an acquaintance, can affect how we act, what we like, or even how we speak.  We put on this facade in front of them and become this complete stranger.  Its as if some unknown force urges us to try things we would not normally try, or say things we would not normally say.  But why, why do we feel the need to compromise who we are for this person?  Are true friends not those that accept us for who we truly are?  Is being ourselves just not good enough?

Solitude.

Through seclusion I've learned that with boredom, comes progress.

My car had been warning me of low tire pressure for a long time.  It was always the front passenger tire.  I even took it to the Honda dealership as well as an actual tire service.  Both told me that they couldn't find any nails or leaks and that nothing was wrong.  So I took it as that.  Then, just this week my mother noticed that my tire was obviously flat.  Since then, I am unable to go anywhere! I am stuck, trapped, and all alone at home.  Its horrible not being able to leave and go as I please.  But the things I accomplished under these circumstances are much more productive than any late night drive would have been.  I had a ton of art projects due the following week.  Had my tire not been flat, I would have never been able to finish all my projects with the time and dedication I put into them now.  This is my monochromatic rendition of Tigger for my art 14 class

Inferiority.

When the world is sound asleep, I lay awake contemplating all that is and all that could be.

Every night before I go to sleep, I find myself lying there just staring at the ceiling thinking.  Just thinking.  Some nights I fall asleep, some nights I can't.  My Macbook sleeps besides me most nights.  It allows me to chat with friends, leave comments or drawings on their facebooks while they are sleeping or just to read about things I'm interested in.  Its the one thing that helps me fall asleep.  On this particular night as I was surfing the internet, I came across my Professor's website.  He's  a freelancing graphic designer as well as a professor at SJSU.  Although I did not find his website aesthetically pleasing,  the work that was on it exceeded what I am currently capable of.  There, on the left column of the home page  a link that said Action Action Action caught my eye, so I clicked it.  It was a link to an Art gallery for SJSU BFA Graphic design graduates of 2009.  What I aspire to be.  The site had the designers featured in this exhibit listed.  Each with a name, website, and resume.  I took the time to look at each of these amazing designer's websites.  Their portfolios were astounding.  They all had beautiful designs for posters, maps, perfume packaging, CD cases.  They even had video introductions to movies they would like to see based on their favorite book.  It blew my mind.  What am I doing majoring in Graphic Design?  Could I ever be as talented as they are?  Probably not.  I can only hope to learn and grow artistically for a chance to be as talented as others.

Insomniac.

I have this memory, forever engraved in my mind.

            It was one early morning on December 13^th, 1999 and I was nine.  It was another one of those nights where my little brother took forever to fall asleep, and when he did, so did I.  I can’t remember what awoke me from my sleep, but I believe it was instinct.  I discreetly got out of bed so I wouldn't wake my brother since I knew he has trouble falling asleep.  It only took a few steps before I reached my parents room. There my dad was, lying on the usual left side of my parent’s bed, only this time he was making this strange snoring sound.  My sister, kneeling at his side, had tears pouring down her face and was crying out, “Daddy, wake up! Please, wake up!”  My nine-year old brain could not comprehend what I had just seen.  All I could think about was, “Where is mommy?”  I searched our tiny apartment and finally found my mother in the kitchen, crying on the telephone.  Through all the sobbing, I could only hear her utter the words "something is wrong."  I froze.  Then I remembered my six-year old brother was still in our room.  I quickly scurried back to my bed and shut the door.  My brother was still sound asleep.  I heard the firefighters and Auntie Virginia and Uncle Rodney arrive.  My uncle opened the bedroom door, in which I quickly shut my eyes and pretended to sleep.  He said to his wife, “Good, they’re still asleep.  They’re to young to witness this.”  I still did not fully understand what had happened.  I just thought to myself that my family will be back home soon and everything would be back to normal.

Daybreak hit, my brother and I had to miss school.  We stayed with Auntie Virginia and Uncle Rodney for the day.  I remember asking my uncle if I could go upstairs to our place and get some snacks.  I lied.  I had a strange urge to go see my parent’s room.  I went upstairs to our apartment and got the snacks from the kitchen, but I had to go back to my parents room.  As I stepped inside the room all I could feel was this eerie, chilling breeze.  I felt so empty, and from that moment, I knew that nothing was ever going to be the same.