tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31622802605463022342024-03-13T03:50:32.084-07:00Something to SayTrent...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01214563956706360472noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3162280260546302234.post-81262594888273537862012-03-19T08:52:00.002-07:002012-03-19T09:27:51.646-07:00This sucks.<span >I don't want to go into the details of why this situation sucked initially because it's highly embarrassing and some day, I'd like to forget it. However, this situation still does suck and for a different reason. There's a boy that I love. The <i>only</i> boy I've ever truly loved. I know this because he's the only one I've ever "pined" for and didn't just "miss" or "want". He's the only one that's ever come close to meeting ideals I ever put forth for potential long-term guys. He's perfect to me. From his jet black hair to his little feet. I love him. Simply and purely. </span><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span >I know, now, what it's like to love some one that you simply can't have. To be the guy in movies, standing outside in the rain with the bouquet of roses that seem like they've already started to wilt upon seeing the girl he loves with someone else. I wish I could be over him, but only so that I wouldn't have the feeling of missing something, but at the same time, I never want to *not* think of him. </span></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span >"<i>Mere jaise honge laakhon; koi bhi tujh saa nahi.</i>" There will be thousands like me; like you, there will be no other.</span></div><div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RVH4X92BE7k">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RVH4X92BE7k</a> </div>Trent...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01214563956706360472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3162280260546302234.post-9822376063697688762010-07-21T17:12:00.000-07:002010-07-21T18:22:35.065-07:00Ma Yemayá<span style="font-family: arial;">Oye, oye, oye, oye Ma Yemayá<br />Oye, oye, oye, oye Ma Yemayá</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />Oye, oye, oye, oye Ma Yemayá<br />Ay Virgencita de Regla<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Oye Ma Yemayá<br />Ay Madre de todo' lo' mare'<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Oye Ma Yemayá</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ay Mamá de Africa lejana<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Oye Ma Yemayá<br />Que venga' a hacé mi trabajo<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Oye Ma Yemayá<br />Que limpie' todo' lo' camino'<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Oye Ma Yemayá<br />Ven protégeme con tu agua clara<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Oye Ma Yemayá<br />Con dulce' melone' vengo yo<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Oye Ma Yemayá<br />Pa' ofrecé con amó<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Oye Ma Yemayá<br />Con Elegguá cuidandome el camino<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Oye Ma Yemayá<br />Que venga' con mercede' te pido<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Oye Ma Yemayá<br />Gracia' a Dió que lo' bendiga<br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Oye Ma Yemayá!<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span>Trent...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01214563956706360472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3162280260546302234.post-12140593412484293762010-06-29T17:53:00.000-07:002010-06-29T18:51:13.942-07:00Shabdein<span style="font-family:arial;">The title of this blog is the Hindustani word for "words". I've come to realize that I pay very close, meticulous attention to words. Grammatically and psychologically. The combination of words with the thoughts that manifest them convey the feelings and inner workings of human beings. It's how we function. On a smaller scale though, when I speak, I follow the idiom, "Think before you speak" or, the more appropriate, "Choose your words carefully". I do this because I want my words to get across exactly what I want to say based fully on my thoughts, feelings, and the definitions of the various words I'm using. Despite all of this, I still find myself misunderstood. Not all the time of course or even most of the time, but in my romantic relationships, this tends to ring very true. I almost feel like my partners have tried to read my thoughts through my words and then respond to me based on this process. This is a mistake because I mean what I say the way I say it. I don't say things to allude to other things. I don't say things so that a conclusion may be drawn from what I say about what I say; I draw the conclusion. I do it because I want to assure the person whom I'm communicating with understands. To me, that's paramount because, as it stands, everyone has their own personalities and perspectives and everything we take in is going to have our own spin on it anyway because we are who we are, but how much more debilitating is it when the one avenue we have with set (for the most part) definitions with an understandable commonality gets <span style="font-style: italic;">severely</span> altered? What happens then? Misunderstanding, discord, and ill-fated life decisions happen.<br /><br />I do understand peoples' attachment to their emotions and their big inclination to use them when trying to understand what someone is saying. I understand it because I too have emotions and I understand that our emotions are at the core of our humanity and they're pretty much impossible to evade and fully impossible to null. However, in addition to the incredible human ability to empathize (that is, see where someone is coming from), there is the unsung, but inherent ability to <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> empathize. <span style="font-style: italic;">That</span> is to say: not only stepping out of one's shoes into those of others, but taking off one's own "shoes" and not putting on anyone's. Standing "barefoot" in the neutral position of observation and wrapping those observations first in <span style="font-weight: bold;">thought</span> and then in emotional reaction. True, emotions cannot be escaped (as well they shouldn't) and even our attempted neutrality is flawed, but I don't think I'm alone in saying that our neutrality or basic, maybe scientific(?) "it is what is" way of viewing things is a lot more consistent than our emotions.<br /><br />Thus, my fascination and dedication to words themselves can't ever be ignored. It gets worse though. Because, I feel that my words are direct and because of my relentlessness to make them any other way, those same words tend to spur the <span style="font-style: italic;">emotions</span> of my partners way more than their intellect. [insert sigh of desperation] It gets even <span style="font-style: italic;">worse</span> because when I do try to use my words to speak directly to emotion or affectionately, they go <span style="font-style: italic;">too</span> directly because they're intense, affirming, and sincere. The proper (or at least expected) reaction to this a lot of love and plenty dedication from the person they're addressed to...because I guess either a lot of people don't speak directly or just not eloquently? What happens though, when the word is there, the definition behind it, but the emotion's <span style="font-style: italic;">way</span> behind? It's there, but isn't in full manifestation. [insert second sigh of desperation]<br /><br />I am more than fully aware of the fact that I do often come off as rude, mean and pretty much as jerk because of how I use my words, but I think what's interesting to note is, I truly hardly ever find myself in trouble because <span style="font-style: italic;">what</span> I say, but <span style="font-style: italic;">how</span> I say it. I feel like some people are searching for a deeper, cynical, or even sinister meaning behind what I say, but I swear my words are my thoughts. If I'm trying to say something a "certain way", I'll insert the appropriate adjective (my <span style="font-weight: bold;">favorite </span></span><span style="font-family:arial;">kind of words</span><span style="font-family:arial;">)<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">. </span></span>So what's my solution?...kowtow to social linguistic adequacy (or lack thereof) or stay true to the thoughts and words?....<br /></span>Trent...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01214563956706360472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3162280260546302234.post-3781711262394795072010-05-05T02:16:00.000-07:002010-05-05T02:23:53.631-07:00People.<h6 style="font-family: arial; font-weight: normal;" class="uiStreamMessage"><span style="font-size:100%;">People are so complex. Some of us are reclusive and just need to not be around others, some of us ask WAY too much of others and feel justified because they ask the same amount of themselves, others are comprehensive and sensible, but inherently wayward and lofty and some HAVE to lash out at others, learn their lesson, then make the humblest of apologies. Despite ALL of these differences and intricacies, I think it's important to realize that we are all people with real emotions and that we all have are reasons...just because YOU don't think much others' doesn't mean it's not worth hearing them out....we might actually learn something if we shut up for two seconds and step outside of our ego...but then, that may be asking too much.</span></h6>Trent...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01214563956706360472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3162280260546302234.post-89596536287135756282010-04-03T21:17:00.000-07:002010-04-03T21:26:02.785-07:00I'll Take The One With The Earring And The Zebra Print Purse<span style="font-family:arial;">It's been barely a month and I guarantee it's real. I know it's authentic. He's such an inspiration and a challenge. He shows me something new and teaches me something different every day. I, in my natural thirst for information, crave someone who has something to offer me intellectually and he does...in the most unique way possible. The way he loves me is different from any way I've ever been loved. I pray he sticks around for as long as his tolerance of me lasts....and then some. I don't want anybody else. He's enough and more.<br /><br />I miss him so much.....</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__YorTWrDjF8/S7gUtQ71oRI/AAAAAAAAABA/h8IwiMuerF8/s1600/25511_547819014717_57604436_31981176_3441876_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__YorTWrDjF8/S7gUtQ71oRI/AAAAAAAAABA/h8IwiMuerF8/s320/25511_547819014717_57604436_31981176_3441876_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456133716431970578" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I love you, baby...earring and all.<br /><br /></span>Trent...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01214563956706360472noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3162280260546302234.post-70568147148717057912010-03-20T19:35:00.000-07:002010-03-20T20:04:06.021-07:00Grow vs. Age<span style="font-family: arial;">Want to know something true?...You start to "realize" yourself a lot more harshly once you've graduated high school. Before then, you're just so captivated by adulthood while relishing in youth that you don't readily connect yourself to aging. I mean, you're definitely well-aware of the fact that you're "growing" as it seems every birthday is a national holiday for you at that age, but aging is something that before you graduate high school (in my opinion) you really don't have a concept of. By "aging" I mean maturing, taking on responsibilities, gaining friends and associates, losing them, going through romantic relationships, dealing with money and all those other things that make adulthood so glamorous....it's all so distant before high school graduation. Two of my closest friends (Laura and Mateo respectively) are now expecting children. CHILDREN. Niños. Bacche. To me, that's just insane. Not the fact that they're both kind of young, but the fact that they're actually about starting families. And more than that, a new generation...from <span style="font-weight: bold;">our</span> generation. I don't know why that touches me so deeply; especially because I love kids so much and I'm constantly thinking about my own future children, but it just does. Either way, I'm making the conscious decision to embrace every ounce of this "aging" thing, while fondly cherishing my time of "growth" as much as my memory allows.<br /><br /><br /></span>Trent...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01214563956706360472noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3162280260546302234.post-82350730683227205772010-03-15T10:55:00.000-07:002010-03-15T11:04:57.218-07:00Sunshine<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyGAfto9viayJ8s-JTiBBgCvuThCuB6HB_O6iGyaN3Wn2WU1ZU4QpSj0UaBbJyP604btmTV8emaLovwTbLBczo-1XKU2I_z7ElbH-Vz73FvEzhNtzgICVcQR0CCevrDe1SNVCcdtDyB_o/s1600-h/trail%2520through%2520the%2520bush%2520with%2520sun%2520shining%2520in%2520800.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448923173680197906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyGAfto9viayJ8s-JTiBBgCvuThCuB6HB_O6iGyaN3Wn2WU1ZU4QpSj0UaBbJyP604btmTV8emaLovwTbLBczo-1XKU2I_z7ElbH-Vz73FvEzhNtzgICVcQR0CCevrDe1SNVCcdtDyB_o/s320/trail%2520through%2520the%2520bush%2520with%2520sun%2520shining%2520in%2520800.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I was thinking yesterday: "What if the sun stopped shining?" What if humanity found a way to survive, but many of the earth's creatures and plants died and the face of the planet literally and completely changed. For me and I imagine for everyone else, it would be the single most frightening thing that's ever happened.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">It may sound ridiculous or maybe juvenile, but I love nature and its all-powerful battery, the sun with all my heart</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div>Trent...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01214563956706360472noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3162280260546302234.post-43081781855509175422010-03-04T12:28:00.000-08:002010-03-04T12:32:10.648-08:00From My Backpack<span style="font-family: arial;">It crept inside me.<br />The want for something.<br />Then I saw, the presence of nothing.<br />Lust for passion arrived in my soul,<br />The evidence of "not having" now two years old.<br />It is here now, this presence which I cannot shake<br />It is here, his essence whose mystery is my quake.<br /></span>Trent...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01214563956706360472noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3162280260546302234.post-35803734782141450842010-02-26T18:27:00.000-08:002010-02-26T18:35:51.817-08:00I don't know if it's just another vain attempt or something worth it.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__YorTWrDjF8/S4iE6f8PZRI/AAAAAAAAAAM/_azDu_P1TQc/s1600-h/n57604436_30203862_1784.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__YorTWrDjF8/S4iE6f8PZRI/AAAAAAAAAAM/_azDu_P1TQc/s320/n57604436_30203862_1784.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442746290218689810" border="0" /></a>Trent...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01214563956706360472noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3162280260546302234.post-83942031333844532032010-02-26T02:32:00.000-08:002010-02-26T02:44:30.110-08:00The Set Up<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">So, this isn't going to be a "blog" per se; it's going to be more of a place for me to shoot out my little blurbs about the happenings in my life and intellectual sparks...</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">" I pity those who can't imagine...hopelessly caught in the droll activities of reality, ignoring actuality and possibility...the faith-less, the romance-less, the companion-less. You have my condolences."</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{"type":"msg"}" style="font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; "><br /></h3></span>Trent...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01214563956706360472noreply@blogger.com0