Friday, August 3, 2012
Dreaming
Have you ever woken up shivering from drenched sheets of sweat wondering what just happened? Like your dreams have molested your reality fucking up your day. It's a terrible feeling. Then you try to figure out what the dream meant, why it came about in the way that it did. The only thing on your mind is why, but you just cant answer it. This has happened to me too many times. Vivid intensified dreams have really been a burden on me. I sleep, but I don't get any rest. I live my dreams as I live my day. Both are intermeshed into one reality of what I have experienced. The question becomes what is true experience? Can I experience a dream in the same way that I experience reality?
I feel like when I dream I have no control over anything except for how I react. Things happen and I just have to adapt to what is happening. I try to make the dream as happy as I can make it. Most of the time I enter a dream and the first thing that hits me is survival. It's such a weird concept, trying to survive a dream. I try to survive day by day, but dream by dream? That just doesn't seem right. I am trying to overcome insanity in my dream, trying to keep myself from going crazy. I am trying to keep myself from losing what is most important for my daily mentality, which of course is my happiness. It concerns me when I wake up happy, but feel the sadness from my dreams.
When I awake I have to eat, take a shower, go to work, eat more, and sleep. Physical necessities enter the survival of my sanity. Waking up with sadness and being forced into mundane activities doesn't help my sanity. It is up to me to hold onto happiness. I need to do what makes me happy, I need to conquer insecurities on a daily basis, but it is impossible when waking and not knowing where you are and how you feel.
Hopefully someday soon I will outgrow the dreams. Hopefully I can grab hold of my sanity and be happy, but as for now I will live in my dreams, and dream when I live. I am a dreamer.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Elementary Bullying
I was talking to Tracy last night, which is a whole other story which Ive written down in my journals, but more importantly I was talking to her about all the bullying and social isolation I had experienced up until I was 19. I really never had a lot of friends, I had some, I had acquaintances, I've had best friends and close friends, but those numbers aren't very large. For the most part, I've been quite lonely my whole life. Finally, for the first time in 20 years, I've felt happiness, having a wonderful woman in my life, figuring out my graduation, being a lifeguard for 2 years, renting out my own house, I mean fuck, I have A LOT going for me right now.
Although currently, I dont feel very happy, Im not sure where all this is going, I have stability, I have plans, but none of it is giving me this gratification in life that I've been trying to feel for so long. I think it all starts with the bullying I experienced throughout elementary school, middle school, and high school. I always expected more for myself in my future, every time a bully would call me a name, push me over, spit on me, punch me, kick me, isolate me completely from everyone else, I always knew in my heart that I would be the better person. Not in a selfish, "Oh look at me and my ego," sort of way, but in a way that I thought everyone was stupid for the way they treated me.
I remember in elementary school, I went to Adat Ari El, I experienced a fair share of bullying, I never meant to harm anyone, I really didnt, I merely wanted to express who I was as a human being, as Phil. I knew I was weird, I knew I had different aspirations than school, I failed every test, I never did my homework, I didnt read a single book in elementary school, I fucked around so much, that it came to the point where my teachers would ask me for my homework and I'd look them straight in the eye and say, "I didnt do it, I didnt want to." Always thinking in my head, "So what are you going to do about it?" They never did anything, I still passed, I managed to get through elementary school through bullshiting. This doesnt mean I was stupid, I studied everything outside the classroom, I knew so much about American Military history, I knew so much about wildlife in the desert, I knoew tons and tons about Native American culture, I knew so much more than anyone could ever know about themselves, and I was only 11. I was maturing faster than my classmates, and I knew this, they knew this. They were a part of this "group" that was my class, and I just wasnt a part of it, I had nothing to do with it. This is why they picked me on me. They called me names, they wouldnt pick me for sports teams, whenever the boys would go on adventures I would be excluded, it was endless. My only friends were Sam Freiberger, and Daniel Barazani. I honestly dont know how I wouldve made it without them. Daniel was cool, but Sam wasn't. Sam got picked on as much as I did, so we stuck together. He was too crazy for me, he always wanted to break the rules, I never did. I'll never understand why I didnt want to break the rules, Im sure its because I was already on thin ice for writing a letter to my Judaism teacher in 4th grade calling her a "Fucking asshole, you stupid fucking bitch, trying to call me out on nothing, fuck you." She received the letter, she picked it up off my desk as I was writing it in class, I was always doing something I shouldnt have been doing in class. My teachers even picked on me... My school experience in elementary school never got better, it only got worst. I was always the smarter one, but never treated in such a way academically or socially.
A couple of memories that stand out in particular, 2nd grade, we were going on a field trip around the block to pretend that our grade was going through the suffrage of Passover by crossing boulevards instead of deserts. While we were conglomerating, Aaron, who was actually Moses in this whole reenactment said, lets kill the Egyptians! Some of our classmates were dressed as Egyptians, I was one of those. Everyone started attacked everyone, I didnt want to get involved, but suddenly someone came running at me with a stick, so I picked up a rock and said, "STOP!" I didnt throw the rock, I held it in my hand, firmly grasping it for dear life, thinking this stick was bound to hurt me badly. Out of nowhere, our teacher appears, and she yells, "PHIL! Come with me, youre in big trouble." I hadn't done anything, I didn't start anything, I wanted to protect myself, and yet there I was, sitting in the classroom, waiting for my entire class to get back from their little journey together. They even filmed the journey, and I wasn't in the film because I wasn't there because they thought I was a troublemaker.
Another memory from elementary school, was in 6th grade, I had finally thought I had experienced some form of unification with my grade since we were all graduating together. We used to have a school outside, so the staircases that led to the second floor had two flights, and in between the two flights was a railing and a place you could jump off and skip one flight if you were on your way down the stairs. One day, my entire grade decided it'd be really fun and cool if they all jumped off because we were graduating so what does it matter. Everyone was jumping and I was just watching, I even warned them before they began, that there was a security camera filming the whole thing, no one listened to me, they never did. As everyone proceeded to jump, no one got hurt, but it was clear someone could have. I walked away after about 10 minutes of it all, and Im not sure if they were caught doing any of this, or if they ended up getting away before a teacher arrived, but what I do remember. They had us all gather in the Synagogue, and the principal, along with my teachers, all stood before the class and said, "We know what you all did, we saw it on the camera, but we dont know who exactly jumped." They called me up, and said, "Phil, we saw you in the video, come up here and point out everyone who jumped." I said, "No, I dont want to, this isnt my business, I can't do this." They threatened to not let me graduate, so I stood up there and pointed out several of my classmates who were all THOROUGHLY mad at me for putting their graduations in danger. They blamed me, no one else, not themselves, not the teachers, not the security cameras, me. I didnt graduate with friends, I graduated with enemies.
Anyways, I have more to write, so many memories are coming back to me that include my elementary school life. I was such a fucking jackass, and yet I really just tried to stay out of things whenever I could. I knew people liked to laugh at me, I knew they thought I was some joke, and I let them laugh, I let them have their fun, and I tried to have fun in doing so. The outcome, wasn't the best, but at least I've turned out to be a better, more open minded man than any of them.
Have A Good One
And remember, always look on the bright side of life
Although currently, I dont feel very happy, Im not sure where all this is going, I have stability, I have plans, but none of it is giving me this gratification in life that I've been trying to feel for so long. I think it all starts with the bullying I experienced throughout elementary school, middle school, and high school. I always expected more for myself in my future, every time a bully would call me a name, push me over, spit on me, punch me, kick me, isolate me completely from everyone else, I always knew in my heart that I would be the better person. Not in a selfish, "Oh look at me and my ego," sort of way, but in a way that I thought everyone was stupid for the way they treated me.
I remember in elementary school, I went to Adat Ari El, I experienced a fair share of bullying, I never meant to harm anyone, I really didnt, I merely wanted to express who I was as a human being, as Phil. I knew I was weird, I knew I had different aspirations than school, I failed every test, I never did my homework, I didnt read a single book in elementary school, I fucked around so much, that it came to the point where my teachers would ask me for my homework and I'd look them straight in the eye and say, "I didnt do it, I didnt want to." Always thinking in my head, "So what are you going to do about it?" They never did anything, I still passed, I managed to get through elementary school through bullshiting. This doesnt mean I was stupid, I studied everything outside the classroom, I knew so much about American Military history, I knew so much about wildlife in the desert, I knoew tons and tons about Native American culture, I knew so much more than anyone could ever know about themselves, and I was only 11. I was maturing faster than my classmates, and I knew this, they knew this. They were a part of this "group" that was my class, and I just wasnt a part of it, I had nothing to do with it. This is why they picked me on me. They called me names, they wouldnt pick me for sports teams, whenever the boys would go on adventures I would be excluded, it was endless. My only friends were Sam Freiberger, and Daniel Barazani. I honestly dont know how I wouldve made it without them. Daniel was cool, but Sam wasn't. Sam got picked on as much as I did, so we stuck together. He was too crazy for me, he always wanted to break the rules, I never did. I'll never understand why I didnt want to break the rules, Im sure its because I was already on thin ice for writing a letter to my Judaism teacher in 4th grade calling her a "Fucking asshole, you stupid fucking bitch, trying to call me out on nothing, fuck you." She received the letter, she picked it up off my desk as I was writing it in class, I was always doing something I shouldnt have been doing in class. My teachers even picked on me... My school experience in elementary school never got better, it only got worst. I was always the smarter one, but never treated in such a way academically or socially.
A couple of memories that stand out in particular, 2nd grade, we were going on a field trip around the block to pretend that our grade was going through the suffrage of Passover by crossing boulevards instead of deserts. While we were conglomerating, Aaron, who was actually Moses in this whole reenactment said, lets kill the Egyptians! Some of our classmates were dressed as Egyptians, I was one of those. Everyone started attacked everyone, I didnt want to get involved, but suddenly someone came running at me with a stick, so I picked up a rock and said, "STOP!" I didnt throw the rock, I held it in my hand, firmly grasping it for dear life, thinking this stick was bound to hurt me badly. Out of nowhere, our teacher appears, and she yells, "PHIL! Come with me, youre in big trouble." I hadn't done anything, I didn't start anything, I wanted to protect myself, and yet there I was, sitting in the classroom, waiting for my entire class to get back from their little journey together. They even filmed the journey, and I wasn't in the film because I wasn't there because they thought I was a troublemaker.
Another memory from elementary school, was in 6th grade, I had finally thought I had experienced some form of unification with my grade since we were all graduating together. We used to have a school outside, so the staircases that led to the second floor had two flights, and in between the two flights was a railing and a place you could jump off and skip one flight if you were on your way down the stairs. One day, my entire grade decided it'd be really fun and cool if they all jumped off because we were graduating so what does it matter. Everyone was jumping and I was just watching, I even warned them before they began, that there was a security camera filming the whole thing, no one listened to me, they never did. As everyone proceeded to jump, no one got hurt, but it was clear someone could have. I walked away after about 10 minutes of it all, and Im not sure if they were caught doing any of this, or if they ended up getting away before a teacher arrived, but what I do remember. They had us all gather in the Synagogue, and the principal, along with my teachers, all stood before the class and said, "We know what you all did, we saw it on the camera, but we dont know who exactly jumped." They called me up, and said, "Phil, we saw you in the video, come up here and point out everyone who jumped." I said, "No, I dont want to, this isnt my business, I can't do this." They threatened to not let me graduate, so I stood up there and pointed out several of my classmates who were all THOROUGHLY mad at me for putting their graduations in danger. They blamed me, no one else, not themselves, not the teachers, not the security cameras, me. I didnt graduate with friends, I graduated with enemies.
Anyways, I have more to write, so many memories are coming back to me that include my elementary school life. I was such a fucking jackass, and yet I really just tried to stay out of things whenever I could. I knew people liked to laugh at me, I knew they thought I was some joke, and I let them laugh, I let them have their fun, and I tried to have fun in doing so. The outcome, wasn't the best, but at least I've turned out to be a better, more open minded man than any of them.
Have A Good One
And remember, always look on the bright side of life
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Paradise
My life so far has been something else. I can't even begin attempting to explain.
During the time I was in that Creative Writing class I was dating this girl named Cassie. It wasn't fun, there was a lot of tension, a lot of fighting, a lot of bickering back and forth. It wasn't healthy at all, and all of my friends surely tried to make me aware of that, but I was too blinded by the fact that I wanted to make things work.
I always just want to make things work.
No matter what the circumstance, I'm always trying to make something out of nothing. Try to make something mean anything more than what it is, but I always remember that this is why I feel better being an existentialist. Trying not to bring any reason to anything, just letting things be as they are, and letting them be as they would like to be. I am the perfect man, there is no doubt about this, but when will I find someone that can settle for me?
I am not saying that I am perfect in the degrees of exercise, or academia, or even cleanliness, but when you get down to the knitty-gritty of what people expect out of love. I am the embodiment of that conceptual understanding. I go beyond the call of duty just to please the girl I'm dating, even if it impairs me in my schoolwork. I don't care, and I can't seem to get myself too care, and from not caring, I tend to attract girls that don't care either.
And so here is the conundrum I am in. I want to be sweet when I shouldn't? And for what reason? Because there is no reason to be loving? To have loved?
No this shouldn't be true. then all that I've ever lived for would be a hoax, and I would regret. Without love, what am I?
Seriously though, I was born and raised off of love, trust, confidence, and support through loving my family and friends. All I want is abundant friends and family, and I get both through love. It is when I decide to be intimate when love becomes something else.
So what does it mean to have a lover?
If I love my lover just as I love my best friend, and yet I love them in an intimate manner from which I gather energy to be inspired to become passionate, not just about the person but about my own life. Having a lover means being in love with not just the actions partaken when around this person, but being in love with the feeling afterwards. This is a lover because they make you love, they show you how to love in different ways that you could never imagine.
Maybe I'm getting too far ahead of myself, my personal experience with love isn't something I'm very proud of, and yet, I've learned so much of love. I know how to love, who I want to love, and when I'd like to love.
Can I say I know what love is right now?
Not really, and will I ever know? Half of me says hopefully, and the other half says fuck that.
Have a Good One.
During the time I was in that Creative Writing class I was dating this girl named Cassie. It wasn't fun, there was a lot of tension, a lot of fighting, a lot of bickering back and forth. It wasn't healthy at all, and all of my friends surely tried to make me aware of that, but I was too blinded by the fact that I wanted to make things work.
I always just want to make things work.
No matter what the circumstance, I'm always trying to make something out of nothing. Try to make something mean anything more than what it is, but I always remember that this is why I feel better being an existentialist. Trying not to bring any reason to anything, just letting things be as they are, and letting them be as they would like to be. I am the perfect man, there is no doubt about this, but when will I find someone that can settle for me?
I am not saying that I am perfect in the degrees of exercise, or academia, or even cleanliness, but when you get down to the knitty-gritty of what people expect out of love. I am the embodiment of that conceptual understanding. I go beyond the call of duty just to please the girl I'm dating, even if it impairs me in my schoolwork. I don't care, and I can't seem to get myself too care, and from not caring, I tend to attract girls that don't care either.
And so here is the conundrum I am in. I want to be sweet when I shouldn't? And for what reason? Because there is no reason to be loving? To have loved?
No this shouldn't be true. then all that I've ever lived for would be a hoax, and I would regret. Without love, what am I?
Seriously though, I was born and raised off of love, trust, confidence, and support through loving my family and friends. All I want is abundant friends and family, and I get both through love. It is when I decide to be intimate when love becomes something else.
So what does it mean to have a lover?
If I love my lover just as I love my best friend, and yet I love them in an intimate manner from which I gather energy to be inspired to become passionate, not just about the person but about my own life. Having a lover means being in love with not just the actions partaken when around this person, but being in love with the feeling afterwards. This is a lover because they make you love, they show you how to love in different ways that you could never imagine.
Maybe I'm getting too far ahead of myself, my personal experience with love isn't something I'm very proud of, and yet, I've learned so much of love. I know how to love, who I want to love, and when I'd like to love.
Can I say I know what love is right now?
Not really, and will I ever know? Half of me says hopefully, and the other half says fuck that.
Have a Good One.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
9/11
I don't remember much about 9/11. All I really remember was the aftermath, and how much that specific day affected Americans everywhere. I remember all the pain that was felt on that day, and I remember the vengeance that sank into everyones hearts. I really didn't know what to feel, I'm pretty sure at that age I had no emotional influence towards being an American citizen. I'm not sure if I even actually knew what it meant to be an American. Apparently our country was already heading to shit, but once again, I didn't know. Why would a 9 year old actually care? I just wanted to live and be happy. I wanted to play with my friends and not go to school. When 9/11 actually happened I was scared, yes, only because I realized the reality of the situation. For the first time I realized what it meant to be an American. Was I proud of it? I still can't say, but I do know to this day that this idea of nationalism, coming from both sides of this war on terror is absolutely absurd. People kill other people because they believe in something others don't believe in? They feel the right to kill others, take their lives, and oppress countries through imperialistic means is a completely okay act of revenge. Even America is to blame, more so than any Islamic Extremist. Islamic Extremists are but a recent fundamentalist group that rose from an anti-capitalistic foundation. Can you blame them? Do we blame ourselves for the country that we live in? All these questions, and then you really begin to wonder, what makes you an American?
To this day, 9/11 means a day where I cannot help but mourn the loss of so many lives. Lives that didn't deserve to be taken. The workers at the World Trade Centers, the firemen searching the debris attempting to save as many as they could, the passengers of the airplanes, even the pilots who hijacked them. I mourn for them all, because they all did not deserve to die. I blame every elitist, every capitalistic asshole, and ever fundamentalist dick. They have no idea what they are doing anymore. Humans aren't humans anymore. We've turned into monsters. We're like Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde, except we can't change back from Hyde. We are hiding in the mist of materialism, enshrouded by ideas that one day money will exist in our bank accounts, but these are all misconceptions to what life really is. Its treasured because of the miracles we experience on an everyday basis, and when 9/11 happened, a nightmare occurred.
Have a Good One
To this day, 9/11 means a day where I cannot help but mourn the loss of so many lives. Lives that didn't deserve to be taken. The workers at the World Trade Centers, the firemen searching the debris attempting to save as many as they could, the passengers of the airplanes, even the pilots who hijacked them. I mourn for them all, because they all did not deserve to die. I blame every elitist, every capitalistic asshole, and ever fundamentalist dick. They have no idea what they are doing anymore. Humans aren't humans anymore. We've turned into monsters. We're like Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde, except we can't change back from Hyde. We are hiding in the mist of materialism, enshrouded by ideas that one day money will exist in our bank accounts, but these are all misconceptions to what life really is. Its treasured because of the miracles we experience on an everyday basis, and when 9/11 happened, a nightmare occurred.
Have a Good One
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
My Diva
This post is for my Creative Writing class as a response paper to the readings of My Divas. I am supposed to write about a hero in my life based upon those readings. I had a bit of trouble trying to relate the meaning behind my hero and the "divas" written about within the many stories. You know its kind of funny, I've had so many heroes in my life, and they fluctuate as I change and adapt to the circumstances of my life. A hero that will always stay in my heart though is my dad. I know it sounds cliche like I am 5 years old again, but in all honesty, there hasn't been anyone else in my life that's influenced almost every decision I've made in my life, except for him. I remember when I was in 7th grade, I almost committed suicide. My mother didn't believe I would do it, but the things I thought and said only made me want to do it more, but then my dad interjected. He told me I had so much to live for, that my life has meaning to it. I remember in particular my dad telling me that no one can tell me what to do. He will always be that influence in my life as I try to succeed in order to benefit my family. My dad has taught me that family means everything. He has taught me more than just that, he has showed me how to spiritually be in tune with myself. I've been using the pronoun he a lot in this segment, but I don't know how else to classify him. I guess I could start each sentence with, "my hero," but what would that do? This man, my dad, means more than just the pronoun he. My permanent and personal hero will always be my dad because he listens to me, he takes my advice as I take his. My dad knows more about the world than the average man, but he doesn't have anyone that will listen to him except for me. I take everything that he says and I implement it into my life in a whole new manner. I try to make him happy by accomplishing goals that fit expectations which aren't his, but rather my own. My success is all he cares about and he trusts me with his own success even if it doesn't involve experiences he can relive through me. I live by my own accord and my dad did the same, so he relives his past through my present even though it doesn't mimic it directly. There's not much more I can say about this man, I write and write and write and all I can think about is how dearly I love him.
I realize how privileged I am to have such a supportive dad. A lot of my friends in high school didn't even have dads, some had dads, but they had divorced my friends mothers leaving them with a father they occasionally saw on the weekends. One of my friends dads had schizophrenia, he left my friend's family and in his place my friend took a fatherly role to raise his two siblings with thought out ethics and logical rationalization. I know his two siblings and I can say with confidence that they very kind and know what is right and what is wrong based upon my friends experiences fulfilling a male role within his family. My friend will turn out to be a great dad and so will I, only under different circumstances.
My dad has not only taught me how to be a good person, but he has showed me how to be a husband and a father. He is that role model in my life that will go to the grave with me. All his stories and all the growing up I did with him holding me in his arms, holding my hand, showing me the way, and then leaving me behind with all his collectables and success. I am honored to have been raised by him and it will continue to be a pleasure to be raised by him.
Have a Good One
I realize how privileged I am to have such a supportive dad. A lot of my friends in high school didn't even have dads, some had dads, but they had divorced my friends mothers leaving them with a father they occasionally saw on the weekends. One of my friends dads had schizophrenia, he left my friend's family and in his place my friend took a fatherly role to raise his two siblings with thought out ethics and logical rationalization. I know his two siblings and I can say with confidence that they very kind and know what is right and what is wrong based upon my friends experiences fulfilling a male role within his family. My friend will turn out to be a great dad and so will I, only under different circumstances.
My dad has not only taught me how to be a good person, but he has showed me how to be a husband and a father. He is that role model in my life that will go to the grave with me. All his stories and all the growing up I did with him holding me in his arms, holding my hand, showing me the way, and then leaving me behind with all his collectables and success. I am honored to have been raised by him and it will continue to be a pleasure to be raised by him.
Have a Good One
Friday, October 21, 2011
Favourite Colour
This is another post for my Creative Writing class, and this one is about my favourite colour. Growing up I have always had many favourite colours, and it all starts in the middle of the rainbow with the colour green. Green has always been influential for me, especially during the spring. My eyes are green and every season they become greener with the life that sprouts from the earth. It resembles my happiness and freedom combined with rain that brings life to the green grass. I feel a cleansing of my soul every time I see, as if, life can restart and I can be reborn into whatever I wish. Theres really not much else I can say about my favourite colour, it exists and thats that. Green is the colour that attracts my attention the most, whether lime green, forest green, yellow-green, etc.. I will always find the colour green more attractive and vibrant than the rest. It represents what life is about, growth, allowing me to feel the sense of improving. I focus on benefiting myself through giving myself the freedom of being outdoors with the colour. I immerse myself within it to feel the emotions that it can bring to me. I wear the colour to emulate all that I would like to express through it, so that people can understand what I like.
Have a Good One
Have a Good One
Saturday, October 15, 2011
My Love Life is...
This post is for my Creative Writing class, its really intriguing that my teacher asked me to write about my love life in a blog post. Its what I've been doing the whole time I've kept this blog and it has always served in a manner that helps me logically think out any romantic situation I'm currently in. Right now I'm at my best friend Alan's house thinking, where and when did my life of romance begin. Alan has always influenced my life in a positive manner, he was always telling me how I could better for myself and improve my current circumstance by merely believing in myself. When, he and I had turned 16 he decided that it was time to open up to the sexual world and lose his virginity. I remember hanging out at his friends apartment and we were all talking about the last time we had sex. I kept my mouth shut because I hadn't done anything with a woman yet. All his friends had these amazing stories and I couldn't help but feel envious every time another story was told. At the end of that night they all asked me how far I had gone with a girl, and with no shame I told them all I hadn't even kissed a girl. Then they proceeded to tell me about this book named, "The Game." Alan would always reference it when we talked about picking up women. This book was full of pick up lines, strategic ways one could approach a woman in any environment, and ultimately an array of manners of how to get with that girl. Anyways, he lost his virginity before me and from then on out he became my sensei for romance. He would tell me how I should dress when meeting women, and he would tell me how I should present myself in a confident manner. What girl doesn't dig on a confident well-dressed man? We would get into more details about what one can do to turn the tide in a conversation so that the man is more dominating and desirable. Then that would shift into mutual comfort which quickly turned into intimacy in the lightest degree, and once you've found that intimacy the next couple of steps of getting that girl into your bed was pretty simple. It was the game, and it isn't hard to play. I find myself playing all the time, but the more you play, the more prone to injury you are. Love hurts.
My story starts in Middle School, I was bullied and no one liked me. I was the smallest in the grade which made it easier for people to pick on me and not to mention I was so friendly that people could easily take advantage of my trust, which many people did. I was abused physically and verbally throughout 7th grade, the bully who would pick on me the most was named Leonard, and now we are the closest friends ever. He used to give me atomic wedgies everyday, throw me against lockers, and one memory in particular always stands out. Once at soccer practice he picked me up above his head and carried me to the end of the field where the rest of the team was, he threw me on the ground and stepped on me with his cleats. The entire team joined in and to top it all off he took an orange traffic cone and started to beat me with it. It was fucked up, I know, but from hate comes love, and from love comes hate. Its the balance of the world, any loving emotion can usually trigger the opposite feeling through care, mistrust, or even, love, and vice versa. The bullying made me into the lover I am today. I don't hold back from love, and I've always viewed myself as a martyr for love so why not keep pushing myself to join the fray that could get me hurt? Love is that fray, and I've felt what it means to be rejected on a whole other level. Any personal rejection that comes my way, or any rejection from myself towards others is usually meaningless because I cannot deny this reality, I have no right to say what is just and what isn't. Everyone is an individual with their own agenda's, and I cannot be the one to create obstacles in their personal journey towards success. I am merely an asset, and I accept this, in fact, I've always believed that it has made me the bigger man. I am not afraid to be pushed around for love. I will always show compassion to others no matter how much they hate me. This is how you conquer love, this is how you overcome the pain, but this isn't how you play the game. Love heals.
There's one thing about love that has always kept me going, and that is, the ability to love anything and anyone. It gave me the opportunity to have so many wonderful girlfriends, it gives me the strength I need to support my family, and it allows me to love my neighbour unconditionally. To me, the essence of love is people. The fact of the matter is, being alone sucks and sometimes its better to be with someone than without. Loneliness stems from love and the only way one understands love is to understand the loneliness that can come from it. My love life is people. I love people. I love being able to share this planet with you all. Love is mutual.
Have a Good One
My story starts in Middle School, I was bullied and no one liked me. I was the smallest in the grade which made it easier for people to pick on me and not to mention I was so friendly that people could easily take advantage of my trust, which many people did. I was abused physically and verbally throughout 7th grade, the bully who would pick on me the most was named Leonard, and now we are the closest friends ever. He used to give me atomic wedgies everyday, throw me against lockers, and one memory in particular always stands out. Once at soccer practice he picked me up above his head and carried me to the end of the field where the rest of the team was, he threw me on the ground and stepped on me with his cleats. The entire team joined in and to top it all off he took an orange traffic cone and started to beat me with it. It was fucked up, I know, but from hate comes love, and from love comes hate. Its the balance of the world, any loving emotion can usually trigger the opposite feeling through care, mistrust, or even, love, and vice versa. The bullying made me into the lover I am today. I don't hold back from love, and I've always viewed myself as a martyr for love so why not keep pushing myself to join the fray that could get me hurt? Love is that fray, and I've felt what it means to be rejected on a whole other level. Any personal rejection that comes my way, or any rejection from myself towards others is usually meaningless because I cannot deny this reality, I have no right to say what is just and what isn't. Everyone is an individual with their own agenda's, and I cannot be the one to create obstacles in their personal journey towards success. I am merely an asset, and I accept this, in fact, I've always believed that it has made me the bigger man. I am not afraid to be pushed around for love. I will always show compassion to others no matter how much they hate me. This is how you conquer love, this is how you overcome the pain, but this isn't how you play the game. Love heals.
There's one thing about love that has always kept me going, and that is, the ability to love anything and anyone. It gave me the opportunity to have so many wonderful girlfriends, it gives me the strength I need to support my family, and it allows me to love my neighbour unconditionally. To me, the essence of love is people. The fact of the matter is, being alone sucks and sometimes its better to be with someone than without. Loneliness stems from love and the only way one understands love is to understand the loneliness that can come from it. My love life is people. I love people. I love being able to share this planet with you all. Love is mutual.
Have a Good One
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