IN THE NAME OF brief: College Edition

After my fix on iTunes U Italian podcasts and Stanford online philosophy lectures, plus a bowl of Sabra hummus...

To all the curious, hate-hungry, lonesome and confused, to all the successful, unfortunate and abused. To the in-between-ers and knowledge graspers whom I adore, to all the constantly learning, always-wanting-more.

This is for you.

This is for me, too.

"Why'd you drop out?" "Why are you wasting your potential and worth?"

…Since when did college define your worth?

Welcome to the systematic approach to history repeating itself. And opinions.

I planned accordingly: I worked and saved. All to be at the nomadic/philosophical state-of-mind I'm at today (although always philosophical). To create the chapter of the jobless, school-less, to learn what it means to "be."

Don't get me wrong, I'm very productive, yet only with things I find my curiosity chasing or serve as beneficial outlets.

P.S. Recently dropped everything to try out the "starving artist" phase. 

1. I value school. No contradicts here.

1+1. I did not drop out. I am taking time off (and a semester by far).

School is a funny thing. I can be 4.0 GPA cruising, top of the class yet sacrificing my happiness for the admiration.

At the end of the day, I'd like to smile.

I think it's because I am not set on anything yet. This mindset of hatred isn't necessarily geared toward school but perhaps my experiences and blurred vision of a path as well as lack of moderation. I let myself get sucked into the entirety and too much of anything never looks good.

I've learned to be less of a smart-ass and know a lot about a little. #stillasmartass

I prefer to feel it out. Vibe it out. Intuitively follow.

Counterargument, quotation and weakness: "Emotions aren't right or wrong. They just are."

Queue my reflections reflecting through 6 mirrors. Pull trigger. Realizing there was only one mirror.

A few moments of introductory soul-searching and failed classes later…

The B I G G E R picture: looking out for the whole.

I realized I began to stumble and shatter, so I did myself a favor by

1. Letting go

2. Offering my seat in [waitlisted] classes to someone who offers the worth

3. Saving the time of my professors

4. Saving the school's money

It's not giving up if you're just changing the game.

Your game; your game plan.

(Even if it isn't really a plan.)

I may have graduated high school a year and a half early, with no regrets, then proceeded to dive into college head first (a weekend after my last high school final - no transitions), may have not touched anything higher than life science or algebra…

but I make up for the loss:

I have enough community service (which I cherish and need not explain unless it is requested) to suit 10 people, I have a (and modestly said) good head on my shoulders, and then some (because ranting about how awesome you are isn't the point here).

I just want to try out a different idea; something foreign to me. A few phases. I've been soul-searching and didn't even know it. Checkmate.

I've accomplished this ongoing chapter and have been oblivious to the fulfillment as a whole. I'm speaking as if it is all over, but it's truly the beginning of a 19-year old heart pump.

Queue the tunnel of light.

All I wish (or hope) is that some of the world need not be robotic and disrespectful toward the choices others make that fuel to better them. 

I feel that a few pieces of paper have served the value of worth.

This place runs on credit: your credit for the work you've acclaimed, money that never gets paid back, etc.

We're all worth so much more than all of that, but we flow with the social norm at most because it's: 

e a s i e r.

Not all of us, but the ones who have channeled hatred my way. Hate with envy?

I'll take it as a compliment.

Caution: feeding off of others' despair results in loss of energy, emotion, time.

4 colleges and ivy league outreach programs later…

I never feel it is necessary to explain myself to those who offer a backhand compliment, and flat out: explaining isn't going to solve your assumptions until genuine mindsets offer the request.

Just do you and I'll do me.

Let's chat about it if you'd like to see.

-

Forward is the only possible direction. It's that simple.

I enjoy my life at the moment, enough to reflect on the imbalance of feedback; good and bad is always going to do me good. Critique and new or shadowing perspectives are mindful and great to listen to; my ears are open - is your mind?

Truly, I thank the ones who provoke the thought of "what the hell am I doing?" cross my mind enough to channel it into a post. Now, there are probably going to be other reasonings in mind regarding the entirety, though I'll keep that to the notepad on my bedside.

Adieu.

As for those who are looking out in the future: time always changes. Schools are built and stable enough. I could be back sooner than you think.

Because we all feel our worth being stripped off of our flesh at times:

Your misfortune, your lack of others' "defined value," are open spaces for you to fill with something greater. As they say, "change is the only constant." Give it a push and it'll give you a go. Sometimes, you'll never want to stop. Change can be your new addiction.

%

I am beginning to write aloud again - to and for your kind eyes and to the souls who wish to listen.

Showering at one moment summoned it as equally as the push to pursue my old ways of sensing; where external and internal life become one in spirit. Soulful, as the drift of caressing the urge of pouring my heart out, I became.
(...and so a delirious interface bloomed.)

A work of nothing; of something to derive.

And frankly, I will begin a sentence with "and" or perhaps create the conscious effort of vagueness in order to deliver a interpret-worthy hearing.  

No need to knock. Door's open.

Subconscious preface:

I may not have enough years or fame or success on me to prove my wisdom to some, and that does not and will not prevent me from progressing, as it shouldn't. The fuel does not come from the negative reassurance, nor the dying need to prove anybody otherwise, nor an intention to. My fuel and drive grows through my attraction to opportunity; deeply root yourself into something and you will see nowhe

re but the pain of getting out. I just want to voice that everyone is capable of being AUDACIOUS. I'd like to see more of it around here. Be limitless, be free, be exactly where you want to see. Go, go, go! Whatever is around, it can't hold us. I salute you and stand behind supporting your goals I call life projects. Explode with passion when you find it. Be greater, challenge yourself. Sail with the wind and dive into your potentials. Success lies within as self-worth and fulfillment are within arms-reach. Only, of course, if you want them to be

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"Blow away the cowbells."

...and when I came home, everything was so foreign to me.

"Home is where the heart is," they say.

Why base your childhood experiences and the days you spent your time kicking sand at the local beach, your home?

"Home."

It's a silly thing.

It never stuck; this describes the mystery behind no granted attachment.

Your passion blows up the sky.

I want some of that. I would like to fuel my tank and drive toward the epiphanies where heart meets mind; a spiritual thing.

Everything seemed so abase out of my mind and into the air, like a sheer canvas hovering out of this head of mine, through the eyes of the life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness; young, wild and free. 

Refreshing, it is, going somewhere you've gone for so long, taking a break from the connection and renewing it - yet feeling absolutely awake, unequivocally contrastive, as if nothing, no one, not a jar of Oxygen has reached the lined correlation of thought: it is all in your head.

The mind, being a powerful gift, can and will be robotic. That's another tale for yet another toasty campfire.

I was watching Late Night Show with Helen Hunts with subtitles. Now, it's one thing to read them and connect the visual movement, but it is artistic and magical listening to the body language - yes, listening to a visual. You see, you can listen in the way which your mind processes an understanding of projection. Listening is not limited to the ears, but to the soul, as there are many ways of learning: kinesthetically, visually, auditory, you see?

I would like to begin not watching, but noticing more people and hearing them through movement. Body language is like a projection scanner; you might speak otherwise, but the body doesn't lie unless it is controlled. Even then, it is noticed. Interesting, is it not? To choose to infuse the roll of tongue with the body would be clarity and truth, natural, emotional reaction, stability, etc. It's all in the movement. Words will be words.

My eyes, my soul, if you will, traveled up the inches of inanimate objects as the epiphanies would flow like blood through my nutshell. These inanimate objects were not only lifeless, but parts of my life. I mean, my life has become still, insentient. The toll may be temporarily delusive however the itch to progress is ongoing. One cannot be better now than later until later becomes now. The idea of the future lys inside that Oxygen sucking robot with bewildering ideas of expectation. I enjoy this life I have, though one of the epiphanies gave me a face-palm-moment: no limits. 

I have always said or thought the idea, but to connect it - to truly see it and right through it at that, why limit thyself? Why end here? Why settle when you feel capability and if not feel it, know the feeling is growing in your dreams?

I want toys, a nice car, a motivation and execution of my ideal healthy body and system, a straightened smile, a trip I earned, (ah yes, I am fortunately aware of the materialism after a read-through and have no intend on backspacing the former moments I allowed my fingers to click at the power of word vomit; let it be super pure) the patience and humbleness, the positive discipline, the beauty of clothing, the means to spread love and wellness, the sorrow to feel a balance of emotions, the light to see intuitively and the shadows to frighten me for better. I want to use the motivation I am finding in places of stress, anger, thoughtfulness, pessimism, humility, laziness, inspiration and so much more to evoke, alter and explode into a progression, a movement as I swiftly take the next step. 

Where am I going, what do I want to do, what will I get out of this - typical and acknowledgeable and worthy questions of asking thyself. 

I feel as if, at times, I am level headed as equally as impulsive. They go hand in hand on occasion. Other moments, I offer each tribute to the wrong party of decision. Or so I think. In conclusion, better decisions are in for a roll. 

Working out, perseverance

meditation, discipline and listening

writing, intuitive and reflecting

healthy eating, clarity

as it continues to affix into feasibility and nourishment.

Let's go to Malibu. Let's book it in a convertible.

Let's..

Let's...

Let's….

Let's…..

Let us……

us

us

us

let us

If I haven't drown your soul with divinity just yet, take a bite of bliss:

"Taste your words before you spit them out."

"You are invited to inspire before you expire. Do you accept the invitation?"

(via Buddhist Bootcamp)

With an additional fix for your Shakespearian itch:

“Doubt thou the stars are fire;

Doubt that the sun doth move;

Doubt truth to be a liar;

But never doubt I love.”

(Hamlet)

Be Blind

You know that saying and those song lyrics, “You don’t know what you got till it’s gone?” Well, I say screw that saying and target it as well. Screw it because it’s just a saying and not a feeling. Words can’t necessarily create a feeling unless those words are attached to a personal memory, an experience. So let’s be blind. If you could have anything messed up with you, anything, let’s choose blindness. Blind because you wouldn’t have to indulge in a superficial world. The world it beautiful, you and I both know that. Let’s say you become blind tomorrow. Wouldn’t you wanted to have take a moment to stare at the sky, the almost midnight sky and wish for one less thing in life, capturing the image as your crystal eyes shattered an ice cube tear just before you were abducted with your eyes open, abducted without reason, abducted without hope, or without a hand to hold or a beauty to evoke. I’ll tell you this - all of this is false. You would be abducted with reason. You would be abducted with hope and a hand to hold and a beauty to evoke. With reason, for everything seems to connect whether or not you believe in the fold of gravity or quantum physics. You are here for a reason and right that moment, when the clock hit the dozen, you were given a reason; to see the world with closed eyes, to feel the world’s beauty, and to actually feel. You will have hope, believe me, you will. Even when hope is gone, there is still a little bit left, to keep us breathing, keep our heart beating. You will believe that this will make you stronger, that you will learn of ways to see in ways you never saw before. You will have a hand because you’ll have your own. A beauty to evoke, a beauty to evoke - “what does that even mean,” you say? Be sure to keep a strong hand on hope, and you will find your inspiration, your reason to hold on. I’m reading “Cathedral,” a short story by Raymond Carver about a blind man. I have hardly reached the fourth paragraph on the second page and I already feel love for this blind man, and that’s all I will spill because you ought to read it yourself, first. Aside from that, this run-on paragraph would fail me from my English course. Good thing I write to write. It’s the negative people, the negative criteria and the devilish surroundings that make you want to jump and stay - at the same time, to know how it is, who it is and what it means, to be a devil. Those people, a particular person, shows me what not to be, and not purposely. I wish she could see with her eyes closed sometimes, but I’m not hoping for her to become blind. I just want her to see what she isn’t seeing; what she isn’t looking to, what’s right in front of her and beautiful and fucking glorious that her nose scrapes against the wind. I want her to feel so good that she knows everything is happening because she has control. I want a lot of things I can’t control. That’s a lie. I can control them. Just as a salesperson would say, it’s harder than it looks. Don’t look, feel. Feeling will get you further than logic. Open up that third chakra and look up at the supernal or celestial heaven. What do you see now?

and my legs won't stop shaking

Process of eliminating. Don’t click eject, just keep on writing. Simplistic. Sometimes, good things take time. Sometimes, good things happen quickly. Having realizations now makes life feel alright, and no time lost at this age of being 18. All I need are the clothes on my back and that’s all there is to it, they say. If I had to grab one thing, it would probably be some type of knife. We’re actually more intelligent than we may perceive ourselves. My brain, sometimes a dusted, rusted book on a shelf locked with a key, is being opened up again - this time, for good. These things that you keep up there are the things that guide you through the day, navigate you to the places and things you want to see, and give you answers to what your heart cannot process. Yet, if we live off our hearts, we might become what I like to call “fallacy-fallen,” so we need a bit of head in there. Not all the time, though. Less is more, they also say. Now I’m not saying buy the most valuable things and limit yourself to ones that have the greatest features. What is “value” anyway? What does it stand for? Where did “significance” come from? Importance: what is yours? My name isn’t Collin Wright, but I’m beginning to think like the feller himself. Inspired, you may call it, or intrigued. Absorbed or exposed, or seeing through the seams. Ramble, grump, do what it is that you do as I keep on writing while the phone rings and the water spills and drips coldly onto my lap and the wind doesn’t stop, and the cars don’t stop, and her voice playing doesn’t stop and my hands; keep on typing, keep on typing, keep on..

Change habits.

tag along

A little update, as Sister Hazel quietly drifts through the air of my stuffy room.

Please excuse my laziness and lack of vocabulary, comma splices, sentence fragments, etc. Thank you.

Dust is out. Smile is on. Made your day. Came out strong. This weekend, you know, after skipping class twice out of four days... (define discipline?). Friday, I checked out this movie premier for a short film called "GIRL" because I got an invite from a friend's friend online. Decided to go, and turned down a show at a cafe and something that does not come to mind at the moment. Lovely, lovely people to say the least. May I mention, whom are all exceedingly lookers? Yes. Yes indeed. That I sprouted a tiny seed of friendship with? Why, yes. Yes I did. Thank you charm of mine. I am very excited to see them in the future, along with GIRL's pt II and part III: BOY and GOD.
Afterward, C and I went to Coldstone.



Went home, practiced/crammed guitar. Failed. Knocked out.

Slept in and didn't feel too hot. Woke up with what could have been a cold sore. Not only that, but a bug bite, too. Now, in this very moment, a part of my gum tore. Very comfortable..


Saturday: KB and I baked cookies. Miss that woman. She's wonderful. Caught up on life. Took a nice drive. Right after, UCR. Let's make it brief, let's use some netting in here:

Handsome door man, French cookies, phone's short life in battery form, aloe juice with mangoes, cards, shivering me timbers, printed superman tights, black gloves, mascara that stays on for far too long, my boo, stories about mistakes, lost tickets, torn tickets, security on every corner, music festival and parking spaces, darkness, below temperature, Winco, souvenirs, giant blocks of milk and dark chocolate, In-n-out in every city, gas stations, clubs, frats, chain smokers, fashionistas, Proof Bar, the Kogi Truck, unneeded coins, boots for out feet, iced fingers, starvation leading to attack mouth first, look-alikes, cheese slurping, mail, video games, playing a four stringed instrument in perfect tune, sticky notes and being shady, delivering deactivating the account, lines and golf cars, wrong partners in crime, smiles, hype, young night, brief drives, thoroughness, lack of darts and conversation, secret passages, acting, hating, being grateful.

Today, Sunday "funday":


The only place you'll find a truck of oranges and lemons, cowboys and Indians interacting, Jamaican men pulling trash cans, Spanish music, bargain deals, Greek Gods, and sweat - the swapmeet.

Sometimes worth it, other times not. Just like school. Sarcasm? Hm.

I bought a vintage necklace hanger, a floral gold hair clip, and a churro. Half the time I stood alone. The rest of the time, I sat on a curb waiting for my party to escort themselves in my directions. I was a little too quick. Hair in bun, oversized cardigan, skinnies, studded Sperry-Sliders, leftover makeup, shades, and earphones in with six bucks in my pocket. I was ready.

Home home home. Family on bikes. Shower. Museum, videos, friends, cool attractions, fun and games, tiredness, callus, asking for answers and receiving more, winning fossils (who wins fossils)? Long walks, bridges, extra cash, closed doors, cute dads, unusual outfit yet appealing, new food, fake birthdays, humor to a whole new level, shuffle, natural, and more mascara.

Until I can remember what happened last night...

Fresh faces, new places, wanting to cry out, wanting to live.

just

If you aren't admired here, if you feel like they want to rid your flesh, if you want to bang your head against that glass table, if you want to throw up your feelings, if you feel the strength-the strength that can set you free, if you feel anxious and have high cholesterol, if you want to kick ass, if you don't feel at all, if they energy isn't right, if the spirits are out of sight, if your thoughts are not spot on, if you're high off live, if you are more you than you, if you want to let go, if you want to sink in, if you want to just float, if you clench your teeth, if you want to lay low, if you cannot begin to treat yourself, if you have no clue, if you have too many things, if you're less of a minimalist, if you feel like dying-yes, we all feel like dying, if you are hopeless, if you have already faced the demons, if you said too much or not enough, if you are bruised and broken, if you can't find serenity, if your self defense wasn't strong enough, if you are left untouched, if you are are relieved, if you tear up, if you find beauty, if you don't love but feel loved, if you aren't ordinarily outspoken, if you lit the candles before dark, if you have lost the balance, if you feel the roots, if you just can't do it, if you

if you

if you

if. you.

if you

you
you

you

you
you

if

if you

i f  y o u..

illusion

Time sways. Time mocks. Time crawls. Time creeps. Time draws. Time sings. Time does it all.
When you don't feel, turn on the right tune. Knock off the cat's meow.
Call it a night-a night away from the discontinuing energy. Create your own field of attraction. Listen to that gut, big or small, and throw on those headphones. Pick up the pen. Don't escape, but escort yourself out. Atta boy. Proper, just like his grandfather taught him.

7

Aren't the bad days the ones that make you feel?

On and off sensitivity. I figured that if I decided to write and blow off steam, it would allow me to escape.
It's times like these where I just want to drop out of school. (I'm not going to drop out of school).
I feel that my social life is making me ill. I don't want to see the same people, I want fresh faces.
The negative flow of energy in this household suffocates me. When I grab the keys to go, where do I go?
Let's not try anymore. Let's just flow. Let's just go. Us: my mind and spirit, in tact.
It's been an off week. I have no expectations on what will go on, what will fall through, who to speak to.
Thrust.
It's in the air. They're all looking my way. Am I supposed to please them? Is there something I should say?
I don't want to be picked on, what made her call my name? The whole class laughs and I smirk, "it's okay."
In the locker room, I splash water to my face. The girls are whispering below me, reflective in the glass. What did I do? If there's something going on, I'd like to know. It was tough to hold my head high this evening. Slumping offers no acceptance-from myself. I just want to be. Let me be. I don't bite. Smile. Dearly smile. Women project unacceptable remarks. I don't have to care. I never let anything get to me. Why this? I knew she was a tough teacher, but c'mon, the row of young women behind me were giving up on their poses and I kept still; arms shaking, but in position. Still.

Nothingness mounts to something. The drive will project result. Illustrate yourself. They'll believe whatever you tell them.
Sweat it out.

Breathe. Catch up with your thoughts.

Give love, no matter how difficult it is to give love in a mood such as here.

Give love, restore faith, practice patience, persistence, and passion. One day I'll master it all.
For now, restore faith. Talking myself up should help, but I feel no better.

When there's no where to look, just pause and keep on. Hang in there.
No dwells. Anytime I'm feeling down, just look up-at the sky and stars. You are not alone. You got it good. You can better yourself.

Restore faith.