Spare Change

faithfulomnivoreLeave a comment

I collect memories in my head like a child picks up change off the pavement.

A visual: Boy walks home on the sidewalk, making sure to hop over every crack in the pavement. He spots a penny, examines it between two pinched fingers and deems the coin a lucky charm, then stuffs it into a pocket for safekeeping.

Photo Credit: FiveCentNickel.com

Change, what a funny thing it is.

I often find myself reminiscing on the past. In some ways I guess that could be a good thing, looking back on old memories. Mostly though it just makes me sad.

Photos, journals, memories, they all hit you with this bittersweet nostalgia. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time, just to relive a particular day.

Over the past few years I’ve made connections with different people, some of whom I’ve come to genuinely care about and love. Sometimes I look at some of them and wonder if in ten years I’ll still remember their face, name, or the reason why I was friends with them. It sucks, but the fact is that for a lot of them I probably won’t.

Maybe I’m afraid of change. The more I think about the past the more it makes me dread the future. I wish it wouldn’t go by so fast. I don’t want more of my friends to graduate. I don’t want to get older. But they will; I will.

I can’t control time, no one can. So I guess all I can do is take it in while I can. The good, the bad, and everything in between.

A memory: Last night I was eating dinner with four friends. I hold an imaginary camera out in front of my face and pose, making fun of the boy sitting at the end of the table. “Hey,” he says, “you have to squint your eyes more if you want it to be accurate.” A hand smacks down on top of the table, legs kick out in front of chairs, a forefinger pushed against pursed lips reprimands us for the eruption of shrieks and giggles. We laugh so hard that our stomachs ache and tears spill out of our eyes.

I hope that I’ll remember that moment, even though it’s sort of insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But, hey, it’s the little things that count, right?

In that moment I realized that I have some wonderful, genuine people in my life, and I’m so lucky to be able to call them my best friends.

A piece of advice (for myself and whoever might be reading this): Keep picking up all the pennies you find, even if they don’t seem lucky. Everyone can use a little spare change.

Light and Dark

jimmiedimmick1994Leave a comment

This will probably be the first and last post where I’m this free-spoken, but I know this will be therapeutic. I know we all have bad days, but what do you do when the closest people to you are just gone in a matter of seconds? What do you do when suddenly that someone becomes just a memory and you realize that you can’t make any new ones with them?

As I’ve found out for myself when everything is going great, suspiciously good, the universe has to balance it out. The Bob Ross quote, “Gotta have opposites dark and light, light and dark in painting. It’s like in life. Gotta have a little sadness once in a while so you know when the good times come. I’m waiting on a good time now,” me too Bob, me too.

In moments like this, you feel like an outsider to the world and you just want to get away, distract yourself somehow. But I’ve forced myself to accept and face the facts: time heals, but you need a lot of it.

Bob Ross quote

 

Photo Credit: https://i.ytimg.com

One careless step

localdreamerwithapenLeave a comment

I’ve always been careful. All my life. I always lock my door. I never drive when I’m tired. I don’t leave the house  by myself when it’s dark out. It’s things like that, that show how paranoid I am. I’ve always been careful.

Until I wasn’t.

One. Single. Time. Who would’ve thought that I would end up like this. I will end like this. My life will end like this. Because of one careless step.

I look up to the sky, watching the pink of the sunset slowly fade into a purple-grey. Soon it will be black. And no one will find me.

I’m laying in a crevice, between the cold unforgiving rocks, where I fell about an hour ago. Underneath me are old leafs and dirt. But I can’t feel them. I really can’t feel anything, not even the crack in my spine I heard earlier.

Holy hell, this is it.

Suddenly I start panicking. I will never get out of here again. I will starve or get eaten by a mountain lion or freeze to death. I will die.

Picture Credit: i.pinimg.com

I can’t get up. I can’t run away. I can’t even move my hands to wipe away the tears that are blurring  out the branches rocking above me. I try to scream for help, but my voice is drowned in fear. The more I try to make a sound, the more my hope gets swallowed by the silence around me that is only anticipating my end.

Maybe I can fall asleep. Maybe I wouldn’t have to be awake any longer, only to wait for that light tunnel and the blackout.

I close my eyes. But the dead silence is literally killing me. I try to sing to myself, a lullaby from when I was a kid. One that my mom would always sing to me. “Fall asleep, covered in roses. Tomorrow morn, if God wills, you’ll wake once again.” Seems like God doesn’t want me to wake up tomorrow, huh?

I keep singing it to myself, hours pass, and now all the song consists of are voice cracks choked on tears.

A piece of my hair fell in my face. I can’t even move my hands to get it off. I don’t really care. I feel my body getting tired now. My eyelids get heavier, until I just keep them closed.

I think I give up.

Is it even giving up, when there’s nothing else you can do? It doesn’t matter. I feel myself drifting off to sleep. I know that I probably won’t ever wake up again. I will never see the sun again. I will never see my family again. I will never live again. And all just because of one careless step.

 

Death Note to Whitewashing

mariethearistocatLeave a comment

In an interesting turn of events, Ed Skrein, who was originally set to star in Hellboy, backed out of his role this summer because of his character’s mixed-Asian decent. Now, I’m upset that not enough people are talking about this. Hollywood is known for casting white actors in place for roles that are for people of color. However, Ed Skrein is the only actor, that I’ve heard of at least, that has declined a role because of this reason.

This is big news because of how rare it is. We’ve seen actors and actresses with amazing, prolific careers ignore whitewashing and accept a role that a person of color deserves. Earlier this year, Scarlett Johansson played main character Major Mira Killian, adapted from the Japanese manga series Ghost in the Shell. The movie barely saw any profit, less than 70 million made in its entire box office career. Matt Damon starred in the Great Wall, a movie literally about a white man leading a gigantic Chinese army against monsters attacking the grand fortress. Most recently, Netflix released Death Note, starring Nat Wolff, another adaptation of a popular Japanese manga.

Talking about Death Note for a moment, back in 2015, when Nat Wolff was announced as the film’s lead, Light, there were obviously mixed responses. One came from up and coming actor, Edward Zo, who was denied the opportunity to even audition for the same role. Why? Because he was “too Asian.” Here is his story below:

Something he said really stuck with me. “Hey, your story is really cool. Everything about this story is awesome, except you,” he said, when explaining what whitewashing feels like. What directors are doing is taking away the authenticity of a story. You don’t see white actors playing slaves, it’s not their story to tell. Manga, a style of Japanese comics, is quintessentially Japanese. Not white. What you get are stories that stay with Japanese adults and kids alike. Why take that essential part away in the movie version?

Photo Credit: imdb.com

What I just talked about are just actors stealing roles from Asian, more specifically Japanese, actors. I could show hundreds of examples of Hollywood whitewashing. Some older movies even use blackface and yellowface instead of just hiring people of color. What all these movies have in common nowadays are their social media outcry based on their faulty casting. I hope that Skrein’s decision and the obvious negative effects it has on a movie’s reviews will deter Hollywood from whitewashing in the future.

David Lynch’s Eraserehead

jimmiedimmick1994Leave a comment

It’s October aka the Halloween month, so I thought that it’d be fitting to share and reflect on some of my favorite horror movies of all time. First, I’d like to talk about a rather peculiar movie that is Eraserhead. I first came across it when I was only twelve years old and it was also my first time diving into one of David Lynch’s elusive worlds.

The movie is Lynch’s debut work and it was first screened at the Filmex Festival in 1997.  The plot tells the story of a single father, Henry Spencer, who has to take care of his mutant, deformed child. The setting is Lynch’s favorite- small and isolated, industrial town. However, most of the movie is an insight into Henry’s mind, full of hallucinations, nightmare-like sequences, and his dark fantasies.

Eraserhead manages to alienate the viewer from the real world into a dream world. Lynch perfectly depicts nightmare logic and that’s what makes this movie truly terrifying. This movie is also perfect if you want an authentic insight into Lynch’s mind, he directed, produced, wrote, edited and designed sound for Eraserhead. Lynch refuses to explain anything to the viewer, however, he did say that he still hasn’t read an interpretation similar to his.

I would highly recommend this disturbing, claustrophobic body-horror classic. Perhaps, you might be the first to have an interpretation that matches Lynch’s.

Eraserhead IMDB

 

Photo Credit: Amazon

 

 

 

The Party at the End of the Summer

whynotstayinLeave a comment

It was oppressively hot, but it was worse inside. The idea for the party had been born earlier that month, straight out of the heatwave, full of desperate loneliness and braised, salted wounds. He had thought that the heat had been bad when the party was thought up but it had gotten worse, the end of summer was supposed to bring promise of a cool refreshing fall, but instead the dog days were holding on.

Partygoers were wilting like flowers, falling and rising in dance on a phantom wind born and nursed by too-expensive-booze, and sweat dampened morals, the peace was tenuous. It was just too hot for a party, even the breeze was like licks of fire on his cheeks.

The rail of the balcony scorched his forearms, but it was better than dancing in the heat. He dropped his head back and looked for stars he would not find, but before the search even truly began the click of heels sounded behind him, the echoes of a last ditch S.O.S in consistent and aggressive morse code.

He did not look, she came up to the railing next to him. He still did not look at her, but in his peripheral he could see she was reasonably tall, dressed in unseasonal black, sleek. She inclined her head and stared out into the darkened hedge maze below them, all shadow. He could sense her grace rather than see it, there was something indescribably elegant in her presence, but she was incredibly still. She was pensive in a way that only people dressed in finery and malcontent can be.

She looked on as a couple stumbling their way through the doors below them, tipsy, glittering and very much in love made their way into the maze. Both were dressed in crisp autumn colors, one a in deep burgundy gown that splayed behind her like a trail of fire and the other in a warm burnt orange that fell like water.

Photo Credit: previously.tv via Penny Dreadful

Two leaves dancing in the too warm night, lost to the world and unregistering of the weather outside of their perfect dichotomy.

She glanced sideways up at him through the leaden air, her sharp, slanted eyes caught him off guard, caught him staring at her with the sideways glance of someone interested but unwilling to admit it, but her interest was clear.

He slid his eyes lazily away and turned so his back was to the railing. She turned her head to see his profile, if he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye again he would see almost her whole face, a dangerous temptation. He hadn’t really seen her yet, the tendons in his neck lightly pulled him to look at her, but he resisted, he vowed not to look. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially not at this party.

She sighed, a light huff of hot air in the even warmer atmosphere around them, the air around them weighed heavy on him, even the light seemed dragged down. She leaned her narrow gloved hands on the bannister the stem of a champagne flute nestled in her long, lithe fingers.

She was made of long lines like an artist had just drawn out the essential curves in stark black strokes, she flowed like fine ink.

She swirled the champagne in her glass, light winked off it catching the light like a star on earth.

“This is the expensive stuff and what a glass to put it in.” Her voice was low and rolling over him, lulling him into a stupor, “The cost of the wine almost justifies the dressing up, but this glass, the glass definitely justifies the dressing up.”

A sudden shattering caused his trance to break, his vow forgotten his head snapped to look at her.

From her elegant and bewitching fingers the glass had fallen, no, he realized as he looked at her small smirk in profile, the fine crystal glass had been dropped, on purpose.

A galaxy now lay on the stones beneath them, the leaves in the maze had also turned suddenly at the clear cold noise cutting through the heat, but they were once again lost to themselves within moments.

He was now staring into her eyes, unable to look away, pinned like an insect to a scientist’s board, her dark brown eyes looked almost black under shadow and tapered lids.

He spoke one word, his voice rusty and thick with the overly warm air, “Why?”

She glanced down and turned on her heel, her sharp cheekbones and nose flashed in the light of the windowed doors she was headed toward, now that he had looked at her he could not look away. Those inky outlines were nothing on the amorphous night she was truly made of.

“So you would look at me,” she walked through the doors then, the promise of a cool fall night disappearing into the light of a too hot summer party.

TV Theories

maydaygaskarthLeave a comment
Photo Credit: Wikipedia.com/Riverdale

SPOILER ALERT: Riverdale 

Fasten your seatbelt, because I’m about to speed into the different theories of one of my favorite tv shows ever, Riverdale.

Riverdale first aired on January 26th, 2017, and immediately after the first episode I was hooked. It didn’t take long to become obsessed with the mystery of who killed Jason Blossom. But while trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle that was his death, we followed many other characters on their crazy journeys through their sophomore year of high school or their parents that, in fact, were the main causes of the most extra drama that existed on this show.

Now I’m going to fast forward to the season 1 finale, and wow… that was a plot twist. While we did figure out Jason Blossom’s murderer was his own flesh and blood, Clifford Blossom, the writers decided to have one of the purest characters in the whole show shot.

FRED ANDREWS!!!!!

WHY???!!! I don’t know, but the ending of the episode had many angry, distraught Riverdale fans desperate to know who would do this to the nicest character in the whole show. Seriously, what has he done wrong? He’s the only parent in the whole show who hasn’t freaking manipulated their kid or messed them up psychologically. He’s supported his son’s music career (and come on, just because Archie is cute, it doesn’t mean we have to pretend his singing is that good). But he still supported him, and yet he’s the one kicked to the curb, and SHOT?! Not okay, writers, not okay.

Now I know there are lots of other mysteries that need to be solved in season 2. Who’s Cheryl’s unexpected love interest? Who’s Betty’s long lost brother? What’s Hiram doing back in Riverdale? Who’s Veronica’s ex, and how is he going to affect Varchie?

But that’s what I’m not here to talk about.

Who shot Fred Andrews? Who would WANT to kill Fred Andrews? Clearly someone had enough beef with him to attempt first degree murder. And how do we know it wasn’t just Mr. Andrews being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Well, no money was taken from the register at Pops, and who would go “rob” a restaurant without taking money? It wasn’t just an accident. It was pre-meditated.

Now onto theories. I’m writing this because I want to know who shot him. I have multiple.

Sheriff Keller. This theory is simple. As I was watching the season 2 premiere, I noticed the sheriff had the exact same eye color as the robber, and it was scary. The same bright, green eyes full of evil!!! If you look closely at the robber’s eyes, and then his, you’ll see it too. Also, it’s not just a coincidence that he sucks at doing his job. How are four sophomores able to solve Jason Blossom’s murder before the sheriff of the town? So far the case is going no where either, but maybe it’s because the guy in charge of the case is the shooter. Coincidence? I think not. Plus, he’s the last person anyone would suspect, and in this show you must always except the unexpected.

Even though the sheriff has the power to cover it all, and the eye color, one thing he doesn’t have is the motive. So, now I’m onto my second suspect, Hiram Lodge. Hiram Lodge’s eyes are brown, so he may have not been the shooter, but he has the motive, and the resources. He has the Southside Serpents working for him, and probably many other people who owe him favors and would do anything to stay on his good side. He also has a motive. Fred was having a fling with Hermione Lodge and he wanted to take over his construction site, what reason did Hiram Lodge have to not kill Fred Andrews?

Now I’ve been focusing only on Fred Andrews, but we all know someone else was killed in the season 2 premiere: Miss Grundy. The teacher we all loathe, but she was killed, and what do Miss Grundy and Fred Andrews have in common? Archie cares about them both. A lot. So, maybe the murderer has been targeting Archie, and everyone he cares about all along.

So, here’s my third and final theory on who could be the green eyed murderer hiding behind a ski mask because he’s too much of a wimp to show himself; Miss Grundy’s ex husband. The guy who scared Grundy so bad that she thought the only way to ever get away alive was by running off and changing her name. Maybe when he found out Archie and Grundy were having an affair together, he wanted revenge. He could be planning to make Archie’s life absolutely miserable by hurting everyone he cared about before taking him out himself at the end of season 2.

Case closed.

Photo Credit: Netflix

The Ultimate Escape Room

rufusdespacitoLeave a comment

Yesterday, I went to an escape room with my friends in the Ventura Harbor. Out of pure stupidity, we decided to sign up for the hardest room, The Wizards Lair, with a 25% success rate.

The amount of hidden clues in the room was incredible.

We headed into the room, which we first thought was the only one. There was a desk in the middle of the room with an array of things on it, but the main thing was a box with a fairy in it, which was the object of our escape.

We were to free the fairy in the box because the fairy gave our town good luck and fortune; but, when the fairy was stolen it cursed our town forever.

Our group started off by unlocking the first box which granted us light to our dark, murky room; and gave us wands which helped us unlock another box.

There were many more clues in the room. The last major clue was the bookshelves, which corresponded with the symbols and number on the potions and scrolls. After we figured out the code that corresponded with the books on the bookshelves, the bookshelves moved revealing another hidden room.

We were so excited because we thought we had beat the room, only to discover we had only made it through 50% of it.

Sadly, we did not make it fully through the room in time, but that is only going to make us want to go back again, to try and beat it next time.

 

From: venturabreeze.com
The Ultimate Escape Room Ventura, CA From: venturabreeze.com

 

 

 

Lovestruck

faithfulomnivoreLeave a comment

I’ve never been in love before, but I know what it looks like.

This Saturday night I went to a bowling alley with my brothers and friends. We were there for nearly three hours, and in that time lots of people came and went.

As I was waiting for my turn to bowl, I inadvertently noticed a couple move into the lane next to mine. They must have been in a relatively new relationship; they still had that air of flustered, nervous excitement. They were probably somewhere in their thirties.

The first thing that caught my eye was her chevron striped, orange and red and dark green skirt that came to just above ankles adorned with bright pink socks peeking out of chunky bowling shoes. Somehow, though, the outfit wasn’t really what stood out. She had wispy blonde shoulder-length hair and thinly framed round glasses.

The second thing that caught my eye was her date. He was just a few inches taller than she was and he also had glasses. His didn’t have rims though, just two lenses that floated in front of his eyes. They complemented his square jaw and short-cropped brown hair.

Since they were right across from me, I got to observe the couple for quite awhile. I was captivated.

It wasn’t because they were stunningly handsome or eccentric, in fact they were just sort of plain, normal looking. They weren’t unattractive, but weren’t strikingly beautiful either. She was probably an Anne or Jane or a Cathy, and he might have been a Scott or maybe a Mark or something along those lines.

She first stood up to take her turn. She trotted up to the line and made a very uncoordinated attempt at throwing the bright orange ball, which almost immediately went into the gutter. She spun around on the balls of her feet, and shyly laughed at the unfortunate result of her inability. He watched her as she walked back to him and he was laughing too.

Image via Pinterest.com

Plucking a ball from the rack, he began demonstrating how to properly throw it. And he didn’t put his arms around her in that uncomfortably corny way movies do. He just stood in front of her, swung his arm back and forth, explained his technique.

She tried again, extending her arm out in front of her and throwing the ball towards the pins. It slowly made its way down the lane and knocked over two or three pins on the outer right side.

“See!” he exclaimed with genuine pride. “That was already so much better!” They were both beaming. She scuttled back to their chairs, he rose to his feet, wrapped his arms around her and lightly kissed her forehead.

Over the course of the night I became very sure that they both enjoyed science and books, rainy weather and went to large public high schools where they maybe played in the marching band. As I pieced together these imaginary details I also realized some obvious truths in that they were completely enjoying each other’s company and they were completely happy.

As Scott or maybe Mark returned back to his chair he stopped midway to dance to the Britney Spears classic “Womanizer,” pointing his fingers in the air and bouncing from side to side. She threw her head back, laughed. This made me smile, too, because right then another thing became very clear to me: they were in love.

I don’t know if they knew it yet, but I definitely did.

I’ve seen lots of young couples out on dates before, but for some reason this was the first one that has made such an impact. Being able to see these two people who seemed to be so plainly normal and were out on a plainly normal date. But they were so, so happy. Bowling really isn’t a very exciting activity, but they were perfectly content just being with each other.

They probably could have been anywhere in the world and still showed that same subtle adoration. It didn’t matter that there were people all around them in that bowling alley because they were only looking at each other.

I think that’s all I really want.

 

The home we love

localdreamerwithapenLeave a comment

There have been earthquakes and avalanches tearing down my old trees. Pushing them over like they’re nothing but toothpicks. There have been tsunamis flooding what used to be my home. Now it is just a house that I live in, with rotten walls and moldy water dripping from the ceilings.

Photo Credit: favrify.com

But you came to help me fix the dams and fences that once kept me safe. You handed me your broken bricks and cracked windows and we built ourselves a new house, with dirty floors and clean beds. We planted flowers in our garden without a lawn, and fed the singing birds that never ended up coming.

Our house kept falling apart, but we would fix it with the clay that we still keep in our drawers. In our neighborhood without neighbors, we’ve had parties without guests. But we turned up our music and managed to dance without tripping over broken lamps.

One day we will have to move out. Not because we will run out of music and clean sheets, but we know that there will be another earthquake and a tsunami and a hurricane. There are no black clouds yet. The earth is not shaking yet. But in the distance we see the birds flying close to the ground, ready to bring the storm that will destroy the home we love.