Fear

Not many will know the feeling of watching one you love so much hurt themselves in a way that makes you feel like you’re suffocating. You see them suffering and you beg for the answer, the fix to all the problems. They scream, saying you are what keeps them alive. Without you, their heart doesn’t beat. You beg them to find something other than you to live for. You cry “having that much weighing on another is too much, its unsustainable,” but they don’t hear you. They become deaf to your pleas, your words are no longer enough. They’re drowning as you watch. You dive in the water just as you see them lose consciousness. You bring them to the surface, conduct CPR. Only those who have experienced it will know how much your body shakes in fear of watching a life slip away at your hands. It wasn’t your fault. “But I could have saved them.” It wasn’t your job to protect their heart. Despite the long believed thought, we are all alone on this earth. I love you, you love me, but eventually you will be gone, as will I. No matter how much you love a soul on this earth, to hold onto them as your life line is like floating in a life saver in the middle of a broad sea with no boat nearby. It supports you, but its not its job to help you swim the rest of the way to the shore.

I run into your room afraid of what I might find. I watch your eyes fluttering and your body shaking. I feel numb from the sight. I shake you, I scream, I cry, and then I whisper, pleading “please, please wake up, don’t leave like this.” You stir awake, dazed and confused. I ask you if you took the pills. You nod. Tears began streaming down my face even faster. You mumble and say you’re tired. The thought of you sleeping terrifies me because I am sure you won’t wake up. I drag you up. I get you seated on the bed and tell you to wait there. I walk to the door and then realize that I can’t leave you like that even to get you water. “Come with me.”

“I am tired, it’s hard to move my body.” I pull you against your will so that I don’t lose you in the process of trying to save you. I sit you back on the bed and order you to chug the water. You take a sip. I cry harder and you look at me with sadness and defeat and ask me what’s wrong. You knew what was wrong. I tell you to keep drinking. You say you’re not thirsty. Gulp after gulp you take a break and your eyes begin drifting away again. It scares me to death as I am slapping your legs, kneeling by the bed, looking up at you begging you to keep staying with me and keep drinking that water. The first round hits you; it’s been enough and you throw a bit up. I won’t let you stop though, so I make you drink, you throw up, you drink again. I can’t be sure that It’s over until I don’t see you drifting away. After a few good rounds of throwing up and chugging so much water, you’re done. We sit on your bed and wait. You ask to lay down, I beg you not to. I couldn’t be sure that it was over. That there was not still a chance of losing you. That night I laid with you afraid to fall asleep, afraid of what I might wake up to find.

I never thought you’d do it…

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How to get views 

Recently, the topic of site traffic has been circulating around me. I’m taking a class dealing in social media, and it highlights the importance of the presence you have on your accounts, and the content you share. One day my professor asked “do you think it’s effective to be real with your audience in a blog format?” I shook my head no. I feel that the majority of people who are “real” are the fake “real”, then there are the ranters, and then there are those that post possibly to much “real” content (I fall into the last two categories). I feel that you can be surface level “real” with viewers, stating socially acceptable beliefs, and sharing your likes and dislikes. You can’t however have moments where you’re unpoised and simply write to get it out and feel the emotions. Successful blogs are the ones that have one topic (typically can’t be about your feelings, cause those aren’t consistent with one topic), are the same word count every time, and always have a crafted message that aligns with your intended topic. 

As you all probably can see, this blog of mine isn’t formed around one centralized topic. I view my blog as more of a documentation of my beliefs, experiences, and thoughts over the span of my life so that I can come back periodically and see what I was thinking about or going through a year ago. Perhaps one day I’ll make a blog about one topic in particular. For now I’m comfortable with keeping it as is, anonymous and real. As the world is becoming increasingly disconnected on a deeper level and increasingly connected on a surface level, I don’t feel the need to try to get my content in the circulation with the high profile blogs. 
Now I’m not intending to bash the well crafted messages of blogs that have succeeded, cause I’ll admit that I partially  just don’t have one topic of interest that I’d like to fully exhaust by writing about it. The only consistent things I’ve ever written were books, because obviously I can’t vear off from the main point of my story. 

Though, I have yet to encounter a high profile blog that’s “real” deep in its core, to where you know each and every flaw. The flaws are hidden because we’re scared to show our imperfection. That’s what frustrates me. We live in a world of status updates rather than full time live streaming, and compare our imperfections to the one moment of perfection displayed in a picture or a post. We begin to devalue what we have to offer as a unique individual and become demotivated to be real. 

Fake or Real

Sometimes I write without thinking. I let the words flow out, and believe them to all be true. That does not always feel genuine though; because with each stroke of the keys, a bit more romanticization occurs. Each moment is put on a pedestal, just as a moment should be, yet it can be misleading. Behind each perfect moment is the conscious intent of trying to see the good and let the bad fade away, and with that, you get a flawless memory of an event. Then there are times when I write just the good, but the bad still ruminates in my mind. I fight it and beg it not to take my soul away from the appreciation of the good times. Moments are fleeting, life is only temporary, and we all are imperfect in our ways. We do what we know works and hope for the best. We’re all fucked up in our tiny ways, and sometimes those pieces of us affect others when we let them seep out into our actions. I guess what I’m saying is that sometimes the good and bad are so intense, that if you just focus on the good, something might appear to be perfection. On the other hand, when something is purely good and does not have those lows that make the highs feel higher, you may not have the words or the urge to write about that kind of good. I’ve found that the times in my life when I’ve talked to you (my readers) is usually when I was my most depressed. I sought to writing because it was my refuge away from the lack of silence in my own head. When I’d let any thoughts out, whether it was actually purging the bad ones or not, it would make me feel better. Writing something inspired in that time of my life made me feel like something was going right, even when nothing really was. A couple months ago, I was the saddest I had ever been, but wrote a lot of posts that I look back on and am pleased with how they make me feel. I guess at the very least during that time, I was introspective.   

Some words

Sometimes life happens and you feel yourself get swept away in the tide of everyday activities and interactions. You see the crash and fall of the waves, but sometimes you don’t feel them like you naturally would. Something’s on your mind. Your thoughts can’t help but wander. Where do they wander? Is it to thoughts of a significant other? A new romantic interest? Is it that old flame that still burns and singes your soul? Is it wandering to thoughts of finding that thing called love that everyone talks so fondly about? They wander everywhere. Currently stuck on the beautiful idea of a twin flame. “What is a twin flame?” It is a concept that can give you hope or break you down entirely. To those who haven’t found a remarkable spark with anyone, the idea that a greater connection and love brings happiness to them—also alluding to the fact that they haven’t lost their shot yet. Some have love and lost— sometimes they just so happen to lose their twin flame. How would they lose it if it is an even stronger bond/ connection/ passion than a soulmate, you ask? Well you never truly lose it— it becomes unavailable, unattainable, too difficult to hold onto. Not every lost twin flame is gone forever, but sometimes it appears that way. It all comes down to the two individuals who share that connection. Are you stubborn? Are you foolish enough to let your twin flame walk even farther out of your life while you’re settling for a lesser passion? Are you scared? Are you too blind to see that you’re losing them day by day? Are you too heartbroken to give it another shot? If so, you might just lose them. It is a little difficult to continue to try when the odds are against you. History is made, and sometimes bridges are burned. Sometimes those pained goodbyes are final. It’s not because neither of you feel anything for each other anymore— you might feel everything, but you’ll never tell…

The other day I watched a movie that portrayed this kind of connection. They broke up because it was necessary, not because the love had faded. It never faded, even after 20 years of being apart. They still thought of one another after all of that time had passed. When they saw each other after all of those years, the connection, the passion, the yearning for one another still remained. It’s not the conversations they had, or the things that they shared in common, or the things they knew about one another. It was the need to be next to one another, with no clear reason. It is the desire to see and talk to that soul, because it is the only one yours finds effortless comfort with. They craved each other’s bodies– not because their bodies were perfectly toned and proportioned, but because that body belonged to the soul they couldn’t bare to live without.

Of course the movie didn’t end well…. I just so happened to conveniently remember towards the end, that the writer of the story is notorious for creating sad movies involving deaths to induce tears and despair in the viewer.

Love

You find yourself more in love than you ever thought possible. There she lays, in your arms, perfect in every way. Every fiber of your being reacts in an instant to the reception of this precious little gift. She is your baby girl. You immediately acknowledge how fragile this little human is. In that moment, you vow to yourself right then and there, that you will do all you can to ensure that she is treated with the utmost care. She is a reflection of the love shared the night she was created. She is the product of the 9 months of cautious nurture and care of the beautiful womb that carried her. You felt this gorgeous baby’s kicks at night as your wife lay fast asleep. You anticipated her arrival, picturing how this new presence would change your entire world. What would this little bundle of joy look like? Smell like? Sound like? Interact like? Would she have you smile? Your eyes? Would you see a glimpse of yourself in her as her eyes sparkled with glee each time she saw your face reappear in a simple game of peek-a-boo? Many questions flooded your mind at night. Now everything has stilled, and the only question you have is right in front of you: “how will you let this precious child know everyday, without a doubt in her mind, that her daddy loves her?”

Days, weeks, months, years go by, and you see her grow up. She is everything you could have wished for and more. It’s not exactly what she’s done, or said, but in a way, it’s all of that. It’s the perfect imperfection of this little girl, the glimpses of you and your wife in this unique individual. Her smile radiates through the room. She has your blue eyes, she has your wife’s chestnut hair. When she wants something, she imitates your old puppy dog eyes that you used to use on your own parents– sometimes even on your wife as well (in a joking manner). She has an infectious giggle that brings a smile to your face every time you hear it.

One day she comes home from high school, and she tells you she met a boy. The smile on her face gives you the impression that this boy isn’t all that bad for her. You give her a light-hearted mock interrogation anyway, and ask her “does he make you happy?” “does he treat you right?” “is there really a guy out there perfect enough for my little girl?” Then you mention one last thing: “make sure that if he ever treats you any less than you deserve, you walk away, because you’re the most precious gift anyone ever could receive and he sure as hell better know that.” That night, thoughts race through your mind. You remember her first words, the tears you kissed away when she fell down and scraped her knee for the first time, the pride you had when she finally learned how to ride a bike without training wheels, the times you’d come in the kitchen and find her and your wife baking cookies, her first day of school. It all felt like it was just yesterday. Now she’s going on her first date. Your little girl has acknowledged the opposite sex in a new way. She no longer sees these boys as friends anymore. There is the potential that one of these days, she may even kiss one of these boys. That thought is tough to handle. This is your baby, the one you held in your arms. You face the fact that your little girl is now a sexual being, but with that comes primal intentions. How do you know this young boy will treat your daughter right, when all of his urges arise from such an primal place. Will he be able to control himself? On the other hand… will your little girl want him to control himself? A first kiss is enough to think about, but then there is so much more that could follow. Your sweet little baby’s body is seen as a sexual object now. Guys want to touch her and she wants to touch them too. Your darling’s sweet little hands and mouth may go places that would make you cringe. Picturing these things makes you sick. She’s your baby. The little girl that is only meant to be held by your loving, fatherly hands. It was only days ago that she was too small, to young, to walk on her own. So you held her in your arms for hours, staring at that spectacular little face. Your love for her was unconditional from the start, and will remain so until the end. You think of how the guys she will encounter won’t see her in the same light you have. Their love for her, if even love, won’t be unconditional for sure. Some will expect things of her. Some things you don’t even want to think about. The thoughts are put on pause, because you realize you’ll go crazy if you continue to let them ruminate.

So more days, weeks, months, years go by. Your little girl is officially a sexual being now (not that she wasn’t in the first place). There are many things that have happened that she hasn’t told you. She’s had her first kiss, she has experienced much more than that…, and she has gone through heartbreak. Guys have treated her with disrespect– she walked away just like you told her to— though sometimes she didn’t acknowledge it soon enough. The first boy to see your little angel’s unclothed, uncovered, innocent, bare body, trivialized it by jerking off to porn the following night. That boy that gave her her first kiss also gave her her first heartbreak when he cheated on her with a sexy cheerleader while he was intoxicated at a high school party. She dated the nice guys, the good guys, the losers, the jerks, the jocks. She also found the love of her life along the way, who treats her well, loves her in every way possible, and brings out the best in her every day. He’s the boy she’s bringing to thanksgiving when she comes home during the break. Little do you know, he’s the one. He encapsulates everything you could have ever wished for in a man that would hold your daughters heart.

Now don’t feel too relieved, there was another who almost won her heart before she fell for your new potential son-in-law. With this other man, things appeared to be perfectly fine. He was successful and had a fairly good income. He knew that this beautiful girl was too good for him. Yet when a problem would arise, he would blame her, he’d go into denial and would never apologize for his actions. Sometimes he would apologize— but only when it benefited him. If they would have married, he would have barked the words “get out of MY house” when he was frustrated. He would say things to tear her down, not build her up. Any accomplishment of hers would be overlooked. When enraged, he’d bring fear into your little girl’s heart. She would run to the closest room and lock herself inside until he had calmed down. He’s the one who would have stormed out of the house at  2 am in the morning, slamming the door behind him, screeching the car tires as he peeled out of the drive way. He would have been the one to bring doubt, fear, and sadness to your little girl’s heart those nights, making her ask why she deserved this treatment.

No one “deserves” to be treated that way. In this alternate ending, your little girl just found herself in a bad situation. Could you have imagined though, the heartache you would have felt for your little girl if it had gone that way? Wouldn’t you have wanted to walk straight up to that evil man and look him right in the eye and tell him off? Tell him he doesn’t deserve someone as amazing and precious as your little girl?

What if I told you there is a simple way to make sure that this never happens to your daughter/ future daughter? No one would ever break the heart of your bundle of joy, and it involves only one simple task: Treat everyone else’s baby girls with care. That woman you slept with tonight, that girl you’ve been planning to bang, the girl you cheated on when you were younger, the girl you only intend to sleep with. All of them are someone’s baby girl. Treat them as so. If not, how would you ever expect someone else to treat your’s with the utmost care?

Why Inconspicuousbeings you ask?

       For those of who you who may have just stumbled upon my blog as of two seconds ago, or those of you who have followed me for a while, I would like to explain what the name inconspicuousbeings means to me. 

     When I first began with the blog, I thought about what kind of content I would write about. During that time in my life I thought that my posts would be from a perspective of one who goes unnoticed. One who never attracts the attention some crave. I believed that in no point in time would I ever lust after someone who would actually return the interest. Or that I would ever impress anyone with my ability to stand my own in a social setting. To be well poised, graceful, and possibly verging on witty with my interactions. That is what sparked the idea for the inconspicuous part of the name. I thought the official definition fit perfectly. Inconspicuous – not clearly visible or attracting attention; not conspicuous. The beings part to the name was originally to begin writing as someone who feels unnoticed. Maybe even find a fellow blogger along the way who had felt similarly, and would decide to comment to tell me they knew how
I felt. Recently I have realized that at that point I felt unnoticed, but now I feel completely the opposite. I have the ability to have confidence in myself that I feel I didn’t have before. Maybe you all haven’t realized that I am a confident person through my writing. Possibly you all felt otherwise. That is because through this blog I can vent my feelings. My anger rants, sad rants, happy rants, my stories, and anything else I please. I don’t write to impress, I honestly write to share whatever raw emotions I feel. Sometimes I may not put up a confident front for you guys.  

      Inconspicuousbeings to me, no longer means going unnoticed. Now it means a community of people who can pour their thoughts, soul, ideas, feelings, etc. onto an internet website for those to hear. On WordPress, it isn’t mandatory to upload a picture of yourself to be ridiculed or attached to your writing. You’re not even required to add your official name. WordPress allows anyone who pleases, to be completely anonymous. We can secretly write how we feel about something or someone, and our thoughts and feelings can be completely confidential on our WordPress page. That is unless they know you have a blog, and avidly read it. Or they happen to see a blog post in passing, and it coincidentally is about them, written by you. Of course the only way they know it’s you is because it is the entire story about them, written from your point of view… 

      I have only told one person about my blog, and I plan to keep it that way. That way I can anonymously write my rants, and it never has to be read by the people or things they’re about. I’m not saying my blog is now going to turn into some evil internet version of the “burn book” in Mean Girls. I’m just saying that when someone happens to frustrate me, I like to know that my internet journal is only a few clicks away :P. 

      Farewell my fellow bloggers :). 

 

A true love story

When you look at my title for this post you may think you’re going to hear about a story of two humans growing closer and closer together. Well that is not what this is about…. This is about dogs, and all other pets alike that live solely to be around whenever you need a fluffy, silent, listening ear.
I used to have a dog. He was a beautiful little dog, and I will never forget all the memories I had with him. I remember when he would hear the garage door opening and come running to the door to great my family and I; when he would get all flustered when we would pretend we were dogs too, and started to playfully growl at him; his little soulful whine when he heard us mimic his little voice he would make whenever he would get sad; the way he would follow us around the house to find out what activity was up next; his soft fur; vibrant personality; his ability to keep his tail wagging through anything, giving me inspiration to try and be as optimistic as he was all the time.
I saw a picture online just a few minutes ago, that said: “he may just be a part of your world, but you are his entire world”. It had the cutest picture of this gorgeous golden retriever looking as adorable as ever :). When I think about that picture though, it makes me sad to think that some people may not realize how much love their pet truly has for them. Those small black eyes shining back at you are a sign that all that little guy has in his heat for you is pure love. If you think back to any time you were sad, can you remember how those ears were the only ones you could go to, knowing they wouldn’t judge you for anything you did? All they know how to do is look cute and make you feel better, no judgement, no extra grief, just love.
I know this is probably a very random post, but that picture made me feel the need to write something about my doggy that passed away a few months ago. Because I may not say this enough, but I sure miss the little guy, I just don’t always say it out loud <3.

To my little dog in heaven, you will always be loved…. :,) .