Another year older...

...another year wiser. My birthday was yesterday. Yesterday, June 13th, marks the 23rd year since I was born. It's kind of weird to think about, you know? Like, if you sit there and REALLY think about it, I've been alive for almost a quarter-century! A lot has happened in the twenty three years I've been alive. I've been through a lot of shit, seen a lot of things, and met a lot of people. Each and every good experience and misadventure has shaped and molded me into who I am today. My character, my views, philosophies, etc. I've never been one for birthdays, or at least, one to make a big deal about them. I feel as though its just another day. Yesterday was no different. I did my normal routine of early day work out to start, and about midday me and the crew went to Chipotle to eat. Came home, did some laundry, kicked it with Bryce, and later in the evening went and had dinner at Rooster's. Nothing too over the top or fancy. I didn't recieve any gifts, or better yet, any tangible gifts. I was able to talk to most of the people who matter the most in my life, and that's good enough for me. I was super happy with how many people sent me their love and birthday wishes my way. After dinner, I arrived home and made sure to thank everyone who wished me a happy birthday, and afterwards I decided to take a step outside and look up at the stars, to get lost in my thoughts. What impact have I made on the people closest to me in my twenty-three years of life? Like I've said, I've been to a lot of places and met countless people, very few of which I actually consider friends. How have I impacted their lives? How have they impacted mine? That's really what it's all about, right? Just like in that movie "Into the Wild". The protagonist goes on this trek to find himself and to find happiness...alone, only to realize that true happiness is only achieved when shared with others. If I were to die tomorrow, I really wouldn't have much to show for the life I've lived. I don't have a college degree, I don't have children to carry on my name or legacy...yet I feel as if I died tomorrow I'd be okay with how I lived my life. If I were given the option to redo my life differently, I wouldn't change a thing. I can say that without a shadow of a doubt. I think this way of thinking only comes from the maturity gained through life experiences and how they're handled. I can tell you for damn sure that eighteen-year-old Fabian and twenty-three-year-old Fabian are two totally different people. Sure, in essence I think I'll always be the goofy kid who likes to crack jokes, make people laugh, and all that good shit. That's in my personality. I definitely know that my views on people and the world in general are way different now than they were back when I was younger. Who knows how I'll view things in another three or four years, you know? As for right now, I'm riding this newly discovered wave of drive and determination. I may not have a degree or anything, which is cool, but I'm damn sure not waiting tables for the rest of my life. I'm hellbent on bettering my life and myself as a person. The rest should just fall into place after that, or at least I hope. So happy birthday Fabian. Here's to another good year full of success and happiness. Go me!

And the burning of bridges begins.

Life's been more than extraordinary for me lately. I'm finally out of the funk I was in a couple of months ago, which seemed almost never ending. My new-found productivity has just been spilling over into every facet of my life. I've been waking up extremely early every morning to work out with recently acquired friends. This in turn has made me realize how productive I can be, and has rejuvenated me. I feel phenomenal. I'm finally getting things done with time to spare, instead of my normal route of procrastination. I went for a hike yesterday. Adam's Canyon. It's a local trail that everyone seems to know about. The Fabian of two or three months ago would have sat in his room, blazing away and watching t.v or playing video games. Not anymore! I feel so good about myself now and my life as a whole. The old me is starting to be on the forefront. The Fabian who was ambitious and full of energy and life. We hiked up this fucking mountain for hours. It was difficult at times. I wanted to stop and rest, but I needed to prove to myself I could do it. I pushed myself and reaped the rewards of my hard work; a view of a 100 foot waterfall. Not to mention that I was surrounded by the people I've grown to love here in Utah. My surrogate family. The people I would do anything for. Which brings me to my point. I've realized how shady and manipulative some people really are, hiding behind a facade of humility and sincerity. My perspective on life has been slowly changing, and this clarity makes it easy to see who my real friends are. Friends that would do anything for ME, much the same as I would do for them. Friends who aren't situational friends; meaning those kind of people who tend to only hit you up when THEY need something or when THEY have a problem. Call this a rant, but I'm trying to rid myself of the negative aspects of my life, starting with these kind of people. Truth be told, I only have myself to blame for associating myself with those kind of people, hoping that I'd be wrong about them but knowing deep down I'm not. Fuck spring cleaning, this is a summer purge. I'm burning these bridges and not glancing back. I'm slowly molding my life into what I want it to be, and they won't be a part of it. And you know what? I'm more than okay with that. I'll stay true to my real friends and surround myself with positivity. This is the start of something big. I can feel it. Let's see what the universe has in store for me.

Love is just a role that we play.

The days are starting to blur together. Seconds turn to minutes. Minutes turn to hours. Hours turn to days. Weeks. Months. It was Mother's Day yesterday. It seems like just yesterday I was creating culinary art for my mom in our kitchen. Strange to think that was a year ago. Even stranger is looking back on this past year and what I've done. The people I've met. The places I've seen. The things I've felt. It grounds you, you know. I miss my mother. I never really thought about it...her love for me. I haven't been the best son around, yet she loves me unconditionally. That alone is enough to make you feel incredible. That no matter what you do, what you say, or what you look like; there's another human being on this rock that can look at you and genuinely LOVE you. My mother has been through Hell and back to get my sister and I to where we both respectively are in our lives, and I've got nothing but love and respect for the woman who birthed me. Growing up in poverty-stricken Mexico, my mom and her six siblings had barely enough to survive. From that, to crossing the Mexico-US border multiple times in order to find a better life for herself, my mom's been through the struggle for the better part of 40 years. As soon as she had my sister and I, and our dad chucked the deuce and left my mom to raise two kids in East Los Angeles, my mom's been working her ass off to make sure we didn't have to go through what she did. In order to make sure of that, our family relocated to northern Nevada in an attempt to get away from the violence and street life we would have been exposed to in L.A. That being said, growing up we weren't wealthy by any means, but my mom made sure we had the essentials. Roof over our heads, clothes, and food. Looking back at it, you never really realize or appreciate that kind of shit, you know? You ask for a new toy, parents say no, and you throw a bitch fit. Hindsight's 20/20, and looking back I'm eternally grateful for the sacrifices my mother made to get me here. I've often wondered if I'll ever be as good of a parent as my mom is, and I tell myself that if I grow up to be half as good as she was, I'll be in good shape. I love you mom.

Insane by a landslide.

Being an addict of many forms, I find it increasingly more difficult to deal with menial, everyday situations. Let's face it; life is way less entertaining when sober. I fear that my need to be blitzed out of my skull at all hours of the day can and will place me in a situation where I'll be emotionally compromised. I'm slowly losing my mind. My outlook may be more grim then most, but the fault is not all mine. Okay, who am I kidding? It's all my fucking fault. Truth is, I'm tired of feeling this way. It's not in my personality to be depressed all the time. I've always considered myself a pretty happy individual. I try to be, anyway. I find it rather comical that I tend to give pretty decent advice about this sort of thing, yet can't seem to give any to myself. Or at least follow it. You see, for the past couple of weeks things have been pretty off in my life. For one, I quit smoking weed (again). For reals this time! I figured the best way to jump start my happiness was to change myself for the better. Not even for anyone in particular, just for ME. So I started working out again, and let me tell you, being a burn-out may have its up's, but it sure as fuck doesn't help with the whole cardio thing. I ran three miles and nearly stroked out. So, I quit smoking weed and have been a little more irritable towards the people around me; mainly my coworkers. Which brings me to my second point about not being particularly happy. Over the past few months I've been getting to know this person. I won't front, its a girl. Not just any girl though. Rumor has it that everyone has a subconscious list of 10 things they look for in people of the opposite sex. Now, most people are lucky if they find 3-4 things on their list in someone. This girl is a solid 8. So yeah, the kind of girl who's picture is in the dictionary next to the definition of the word incredible. I've become good friends with this girl, you know? Most guys only become friends with girls for one reason, usually. Because they want a piece of ass. Not at all what this is about. My curiosity in learning about what made this girl tick, sort of just naturally transgressed into me genuinely liking who she was as a person. The more I knew about her and the more we talked, the more I liked her. Wherein lies the dilemma. You see, like most of the time this has happened to any guy, the feelings weren't mutual. She had quickly become one of my best friends, and I went and ruined it by telling her how I felt about her. Pump the breaks, I didn't confess my undying love or anything. I merely told her I liked her as more than just friends. I'm not the kind of guy that's afraid of telling someone how I feel, but at the same time...I should have kept my fucking mouth shut. She may deny it all she wants, but things are far from the same. I know she won't confide in me the same way she used to for risk of "hurting my feelings". She likes someone else, and that is honestly okay. I'm not jealous in the least, I'm not that kind of person. I just wish she knew that. As fucking corny as it sounds, I just want her to be happy. Her liking someone else isn't even the shitty part. The shitty part is that I have become the guy I wrote about a few posts back. I'm the guy that would get texted "You're perfect for me", yet somehow still end up empty handed. And it's a shocker to her when I try and distance myself. I'm sorry if I started not being there anymore because it fucking sucks being a doormat. I've been trying to shrug this off for the better part of three weeks now, but it's not that easy. I've been trying to NOT make things weird, but I know the damage has already been done. It just feels different. Thing we would normally talk about, aren't being brought up. Oh, and that's if we actually even talk. Lately, our conversations are short and almost forced. I know she has a lot of shit to deal with as well, but I used to be the go-to guy! If anything was wrong, I'd be there to give my two-cents. Maybe I'm not the only one trying to distance myself though, you know? If I had to use a metaphor to describe this whole debacle, it's like a sheet of paper. You take a perfect sheet of paper and you crumple it up into a ball, right? You uncrumple it, and you still have a full sheet of paper, but no amount of work will ever make that sheet perfectly smooth again. See what the fuck I'm dealing with here?! It's heavy shit, man! Honestly though, all I really want is for things to go back to the way they were before. Reading this, you may be thinking that I'm a creep or that I'm in love. Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. Love...that's a whole different fucking story. Have you ever been in love? It's horrible. It makes you so fucking vulnerable. It opens up your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside of you and fuck you up. You build up all these defenses. Barriers. A whole suit of armor. For what reason? So no one can hurt you. Then one stupid person, no different from the plethora of stupid people you'll meet, wanders into your stupid life. And what do you do? You give them a piece of you. But they didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day like smile at you, and from that point on, your life isn't your own anymore. Why? Because love takes hostages. It gets inside of you. It eats you alive and leaves you crying in the darkness in your underwear, eating cold Chef Boyardee out of a fucking can, when a simple phrase like "Maybe we should just be friends" turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It penetrates the deepest recesses of your soul. A real "gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart" pain. Nothing should be able to do that, especially love. Whoa, you'll have to forgive my ranting, it's getting extremely late and I'm on the verge of collapsing into the comfort of my air mattress. Before I end this post however, I have to admit that I feel a ton better. Not just about my situation with said friend, but just better in general. For now, I'm taking it day by day. Trying to stay clean. Trying to get back into shape. Trying to not lose my mind. It's a tough job being me. Do I know what's going to happen? Not a fucking clue. There is one thing I'm certain of, and that's that everything happens for a reason. The universe tends to unfold itself as it should.

-Fabian

Kicking your crosses down.

Inhale. The sunken feeling in your chest is suddenly stabbed back to life. You begin to wonder if anything is real. The pain in your chest can't be made up. Exhale. Your mind is chaos. Scrambling to think about one thing, or a million things. Nothing at all. Everything at once. "It'll get easier", you tell yourself. It has to, right? Inhale. Your eyes are closed, trying to sift through the vast junkyard of feelings and thoughts in your mind. Vision? Fuzzy. Things slowly start to come into focus. Exhale. Who are you? Not your name, what you like, what you dislike. Who are YOU? I am me, and you are you. Who am I? Inhale. The fuzziness of your vision subsides, and you see clearly. You're standing in a junkyard, alone. Alone. No one is there, but you. You're alone with your own thoughts and emotions. They've taken on a tangible form. Towering over you. Threatening to collapse on you. They stretch as far as the eye can see. You grow more anxious with each passing second. You chest screams with pain. Focus. Focus on something. Anything? Who am I? Exhale. Eyes open. You know the answer. You know who you are. You're the funny guy. Yes, the funny guy who uses humor as a way to deal with his own set of insecurities and issues. The guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, only to have people blow their noses on it. But the facade must be immaculate. No one can ever know these things, because...lets be honest here. YOU'RE the stable one. You're not massively intellectual; mainly having a strong and keen sense of "common sense" that transfers over to some facets of your life. But those that know you, know you as that "Funny, borderline Narcissist". Facade. In reality, you're the one with way to much empathy. The one people tell their problems to. You HAVE to remain the stable one that will always do what he can to help those he loves. Loves. To help the ones he loves, even if he knows they will end up disappointing him later. You can't even complain, because to them, you'll be considered spoiled or inconsiderate. You have your own problems too. You are incredibly lonely most of the time and have parents, friends, and loved ones who think you're doing ok. Truth is, you're lonely. The days seem to blend into one another, just one more preset period of time before you're on to the next thing. Inhale. The pain in your chest is still there. Constant. Knife being mercilessly driven into bone and flesh. Metaphorically, of course, because we both know the pain in your chest isn't physical. It's not physical in the least. They must never know. They can't, because you're a rock. You're THEIR rock. The damage revealed the cost,and it wasn't worth it. But they'll never know. They can't. Exhale. Your mind is clear, the junkyard decimated like a million sand castles against the tide. The pain in your chest is now nothing more than a bad thought. You can't help but wonder, however.....

Don't rocks need a rock too?

Breathe.

Someone so tired of their routines and disappearing self-esteems.

A war is being raged. This war won't be broadcasted on major news channels. It won't be found in the New York Times or in your local newspaper. This war is being raged inside of my head. I'm battling severe fatigue. You see, today just happened to be the day that I worked a double shift at my place of employment. 10 1/2 hours of work, with a 15 minute break. My eyelids weigh a ton. My mind keeps racing. Don't even get me started on my lower back. Yet despite all of this, I'm awake. The only thing cutting the pitch black; the lingering darkness that is my room, is the dull glow of my monitor. Aside from the sound of my shallow breathing, the only thing I can hear is the clitter-clatter of my furious key strokes. I want to sleep. Fuck it, I want to be in a vegetative state for the next couple of days. Yet I fight the urge. Why? The rational and logical side of my brain is imploring me to crawl into bed and let sleep overcome my body. I know that by staying up this late, I'm just going to make it worst. But you know what? Tonight I like it that way. I like the numbness that comes with being excruciatingly exhausted. The oblivion. The chaos which only exists inside of my own head. Everyone else's problems are suddenly so far from my own. Because I have shit to deal with too. If I'm tired, I have an excuse to just lounge around and not leave my house. To evade the constant problems that don't concern me anyway. When I get to this point, I don't even need to try to block things out, the exhaustion does it for me. And I like that. So for now, as I feel as though my body is withering away beneath me, and I start to slip deeper and deeper into a state of deliriousness, I can't help but wonder if I'm the only person who feels this way? Aaaaahhh, fuck it. It's time for bed.

Stars. The sky. Since the dawn of time, human beings have looked to the sky and wondered. Hoped. Dreamed. We've been infatuated with it since we were able to think. What amazes me is that to this very day, that still has a hold of me. It's amazing what solitude and an open night's sky can do for one's perspective and clarity. At least mine, anyway. I'm writing this from my back porch. I live relatively close to a mountain, so my backyard is a perfect place to view the mountains with a starry night as a backdrop. Finally mustered the effort to dust my little netbook and give it a whirl. So I sit here, wrapped in my winter's finest, listening to Eriatarka by The Mars Volta....and I'm completely and utterly at peace. Looking up at the sky, lost in the sounds of Progressive Rock and my own thoughts. Shooting star. They say if you make a wish upon a shooting star, it's supposed to make your wish come true. Crock of shit, if I ever heard one. Whoever's in charge of the Shooting-Star-Wish-Granting-Association-of-America needs to get fired. I've been doing that nonsense for the better half of 15 years, each time naively thinking THIS would be the one. This one would count. And come 6 months later, I still don't have Jessica Alba in boy shorts playing Xbox with me. Think about it though. What it is about the sky that mystifies us? I don't know, but I can honestly say that this is my Nirvana. Is this how monks feel when they get into that state of meditation? There's nothing more beautiful to me than a night's sky with a full moon and thousands of stars. It really helps you put things into perspective. Like how insignificant we actually are. I read that in 2003, the Hubble telescope was chillin, when it noticed a blank piece of sky. Meaning, a black spot with no stars visible to the naked eye. So it aimed it's camera at this blank spot for 4 months right? They get the images, and what they found were THOUSANDS of galaxies. Each with TRILLIONS of stars, some of which have solar systems, much like our own. Dare you to do the math on that. So that blank spot that they observed, is 1/13,000,000,000th (Trillionth) of the night sky. Yeah. We're a fucking grain of sand in a beach. It's crazy to think about. You feel like your problems here are so big. "Oh, so and so is hooking up with blah blah blah" or "My life is so shitty, I'm depressed." In the grand scheme of things, we're a fucking nano second. If I could tie this all together with like, a central thesis, it would be this: as cliche as it might sound, life's too short to not be having a fucking party everyday. You're in control of your own emotions. So next time you're feeling sad, just smile instead. Trust me, you'll feel a ton better. And all of this, courtesy of your friendly neighborhood sky, found in backyards across the globe.

-Fabian