First, a little bit of backstory, I was in a highschool relationship that carried on into colege that subsequently made me stay in my hometown, rather than getting into huge amounts of college loan debt and finding out who I really was. I wasn’t allowed to have alot of my friends, I wasn’t allowed to hang out with anyone but her, and we broke up on a daily basis. After highschool ended, none of my former friends wanted anything to do with me, I was basically branded a traitor. After the breakup, I was left with absoloutely no one, bsides my best friend who was already too busy with the police academy to even go out on a weekend. I made all my my new friends through my current girlfriend, but you know what? They suck, they really do for the most part. They don’t want to do anything new and interesting, they don’t want to go new places and hate doing anything in the cold or too hot. It’s come to the point where we sit bored and I will give an idea and it will get shot down because we “don’t have enough time”. Sure, we don’t have enough time, but when it comes to drinking, you won’t get the fuck out of my apartment until 3AM when I have to be at work in less than 5 hours and I desperately need sleep; then there’s all the time in the world!

Back to my point, I see people living a happy and fulfilling life on the websites, I see them actually going out and ENJOYING themselves. What the hell ever happeded to just driving around in the middle of the night and going to a Wawa to get something stupid? What ever happened to going to the beach in the middle of the winter “just because?” What ever happened to the spontenaeity we all used to have? I still have it! I still want to go out and have a life and enjoy myslef before I am relegated to my military-esque life of the police department. I don’t want to go to the same damn places all the time, I don’t want to drink at the same bar/club all the damn time, and I don’t want to hear some stupid gossip story about someone from your highschool! Entertain me a bit! Be interesting! Why should I have to try so hard to appeal to you when you just ramble on about trite shit that my grandmother couldn’t even sit through, and she’s in a coma!

By now you are thinking, “Wel, go and make some new friends!”. What a novel idea, reader, by I propose this question to you: Where? I’m no longer in college since I decided to enter the police academy, at my job, I am the only local in the the establishment, the rest of them are family that commute in from 50 miles away. My neighborhood? Let’s just say I don’t mix well with the racial divide. Sure, I could go to the bars, but I’ve done it, I’ve seen the people that hang there, it’s usually just the same routine every Thursday, Friday and Saturday. My age froup is either drinking themselves to death, or fucking girls that have a nice myriad of STD, I don’t want to do either…………since I already did it back in the day (no STD’s though, I lucked out, I guess).

Now I’m too frustrated to write.

I gave my being, poured my soul, and every other metaphor you can think of for being a merciless whore of love. People say when you find something that you truly have a connection to, you should always give everything you have to make sure you are able to commandeer the full potential of the situation, and unfortunately, dark eyeliner and lips that ensnared made sure I didn’t hesitate for a second. For exactly one month, I lived the Comedy-Romance flick that everyone left envying the couple, except didn’t see the horrible death of the pathetic male protaganist coming. We assimilated the role of the couple everyone wanted to be, we thrived off the knowledge that people wanted to know our secret like it was some kind of hidden family recipe. Two people unseperable, so in love, so into each other, so compatible, the situation was too good to be true, and as most of you have already finished the rest of the sentence have surmised: it was. My disillusion was my greatest downfall, my total immersion was my undoing, and my greatest enemy; when she finally decided to walk out of my life after one month of pure bliss, the downward spiral I experienced was much like the drug epic Trainspotting, I was coming off hard on the opiate of love, and the four walls of my room closed in on me like a prison of my own design. I was the only one who could see it, the world passed on as mine stood still, my mind tried to pause the moment she turned her back and waited in vain to begin to play when she ruterned with a smile on her face, what a hopeless quest that proved to be.

Every song on the radio somehow understood me, and taunted me; simple and cliche lyrics played to the tune of my dilemma, the melody of melodramatic lovesongs pervaded my limited defenses and raided my heart even though all I had to do was turn the volume down. A simple solution to a simple problem that just became more complicated the more I gave it attention, the formula to disaster that was clearly presented to me quickly became a hazy picture in my mind as if I was dazing off on Math class back in high school again. Shooting off hopeless text messages, looking for advice, searching my mind for a solution, all the while knowing the answer to my very question the entire time. It was: let go. It was simple, it was the easiest way out, it was healthy, but in my eyes, it was like signing the waiver to a brain surgeon with a shaky hand. The high I got from thinking of what we had was enough to overpower the obvious solution in my head, the falling structure of my mentality was not enough to make me run in fear, I only stood in awe of the wonderful collapse of a person that took exactly 21 years to build and 1 hour to demolish.

To quote a character from one of my favorite movies, protagonist Joel Barish, “Why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?”.

This attachment addiction has to stop, this musing around thinking I am falling in love must come to an end before it takes my life and strangles it to the point where I cannot even recognize it anymore. My life changed on the night of December 19th in New York City, there I was, stuck in a mentality that I was alway going to be one short of the mark of really knowing what I really was to be free in happy in such a groggy world of false relationships and conventional lies. A simple handshake and a smile turned my world upside down, over that next month I would discover what it was to be free, what it was to be in euphoria, to have such a deep longing for a person just because you love them so much, but you never once do anything to jeopardize the relationship. I went head first into one of the greatest exepriences of my life, I finally understodd the stupidity of life, and the small amount of treasure that unearths from it’s murky depths of greed, corruption, and malice. Someone had shown me that all we need in life is that someone that can make the a day that seems to progressively turn worse into a day you will not soon forget; the glimmer of their eye, the faint smile of happiness and love mixed with the unsure feeling of complete enraturement and compulsiveness slowly washing over a scene that not even the greatest romance movie could reproduce. Two people, alone in their own world, learning that everything else in life is just for those who are still caught up in it’s conventional meaning, and what they had found was something that they wanted, but realized it was all they ever needed.

That is all over now, it has not returned since that day it suddenly ended, now I back to my starting place where all I seem to do is search for the ends to my means, and it all seems to be in vain. What is one to do when they feel they have met the one, and they are gone? Am I forced to move on knowing I will never know the greatest joy of my life again, or do I fool myself into thinking the heat of the moment was the fuel for the emotional fire? It wasn’t what everyone thought it was, this was something different, it was real, every moment we had together had a special meaning, every word we spoke was uttered as if we were speaking the most profound words of our lives to one another. I enjoyed knowing the halcyon days of our winter love was something that gave me a new lease on life, it was the one thing that made me stop and think that a dream had been fulfilled, and in reality, I was right.

Night after night, from the age of 14, I had a recurring dream of a dark haired, fair skinned beauty that led me into what seemed like endless days of euphoria. I could feel emotions, tears, fear, love, happiness, eagerness, and freedom, above all else. I thought I would never find this person, I dated one girl after the other in hopes of fulfilling this fleeting dream of madness, and then I met her. The dream never came back after that, I had fallen in love many times before her, but this was an obviously different, my subconsious was apparently so satisfied that I had reached my goal that it actually reached out and stopped the dreams to blatantly let me know that I had accomplished a goal that I was convinced I was doomed to die with. I am a firm believer in the saying that goes, “Life isn’t about how many breaths you take, it’s about how many take your breath away”, and I refuse to let this woman go for any reason.

I will, no, I promise myself that I will do whatever is needed to gain my freedom again. She is a concept, she sets me free, she is my muse. All will return.

Let is be known, Mr. Colma, that about 90% of your readers stopped reading past your introduction line, if they had half a brain, I on the other hand, chose to indulge your stupidity and enjoyed your bias-laced tirade of gross misinformation.

To backtrack on my first point, the blog writer states: “OK, we all know zombies gotta die. And I loved Resident Evil 4. So why do these early images from the next installment of the Resident Evil franchise make me so queasy?”. Hm, I wonder why? It’s because it’s always all right for other races to be picked on in the black community’s eyes, but when the axis of hate tilts their way, they are quick to cite “hate” and “racism” for the reason they are portrayed this way in a game. Just for your general knowledge, the game is developed by THE JAPANESE, not white people, not ONE. The Japanese actually have a fascination with the black community, maybe you should go and watch some Japanese TV, or read a magazine, they love the black community.

Even though the main character is white, this has been a choice by developers for almost 3 decades because it appeals on a larger scale to the mass market.

But the simple notion that you think that zombies cannot be black is racist in itself, and you cannot fight that fact, my good sir. You don’t want “gross misrepresentation”? Why don’t you look at your own community first? Is it not your own community that perpetuates life into being proud if you are poor, and almost celebrating the fact that they murder their own race to get ahead in life? This isn’t the white mans work, this is all your community’s wonderful clusterfuck of twisted morals and hate-laced entertainment that takes the race as a whole in a backwards direction. You want respect? Get your rappers off the air, stop producing movies like “How High” and “Who’s Your Caddy” so it doesn’t look like you have a room-temperature IQ, stop your infighting, stop separating yourself from the melting pot of the Americas by crying foul at everything we do. At some point, you are going to have to realize that the white community just doesn’t even care anymore, we just don’t have hate and anger towards the black community anymore, we aren’t keeping anyone down, and realize your community leaders are trying to combat voilence within your own comminuty above all else.

The next article comes from BlackLooks, stating that it’s the white mans job to destroy black to save humanity. Why does this make me almost upset to see such idiocy on the internet? People read one article and start jotting down thoughts that have no facts, prior knowledge, or right to even comment on. The line “I have a job to do and I’m gonna see it through.” is Chris stating that he is trying to stop the Umbrella corperation from spreading the T-Virus, or the Plagas as we know it now, not some KKK mission, jackass.

You have to love when people are quick to jump on the easy subjects and not the others. Do we all remember San Andreas? Where were all of you when the game literally made a huge joke out of early 90′s black communities? Gross misrepresentation led to huge sales and no one did a damn thing about it, why? Because the main character was black, he could kill white people, but apparently when the opposite race has the control, everything is OK.

Sickening how stupid racists are.

First, let me just introduce myself to those who don’t know me, and also to those who think they might know me as well: I am a man of wealth and taste, I pray you know my name. I am the person that loves drug-induced love stories for the simple fact that the surreality of emotions that exist during trips is so compelling, I find it almost beyond what we can feel on a normal plane of emotion. I am the person who has to listen to post-rock that lacks vocals just to find the emotion, the creativity, the gusto (if you will) just to sit here and type to myself. I am the person that wants the world to cry out for him and yet doesn’t want the help of others, I just want to find that one person that makes the stupidity of life vanish for a split second.  I am the person so jaded by love, that at the ago of 21 it still becomes difficult just to give trust to a single person.

I hate making everything I write about is emotions, I’d like to tear myself away from that unfiltered world of feighning responsibility, lies and deceit; yet I am so attached to it, it’s like the battered wife that returns to her husband because it is all that she knows, and her logical sense is replaced by the dilusion of “safety”.  I’d love to tell someone that I am stable, but yet I haven’t been able to take more than two weeks of being alone before I almost completely collapse, but you know what? I’m only going to get into this kind of thing when it becomes relevant, and right now, it’s not.