When A Storm Comes In the Night

We knew it was going to rain. I mean, there was lightning and thunder and it began to sprinkle again. I'm not sure if it was the heavy food I ate or the curiosity of running beneath a storm, but I was convinced that I needed to run and I was going to take Sandy and Sophie, the two vanilla lab/chow mixed breeds, along with me. When I house and dog sit for Laura and Miriam, I take the dogs for a daily walk. We walk because it's usually hot and I have this idea that their thick coats are just shy of torturous under the West Texas sun.

This night, however, the air felt crisp and fresh, and the clouds were waiting to open. We were definitely going for a run. 'Course, it doesn't matter what time of day or what the dew point is because Sandy and Soph are ready to go as soon as they hear the soft chinks of their leash.

As soon as we left the backyard, more rain drops began to fall. The sky was full of noise and light. I was nervous that we'd find ourselves in a bad situation but the dogs kept on walking and wagging their tails, their snouts scouting for new scents. We crossed University St. and stepped onto the Texas Tech campus. Avoiding the puddles for the moment, we walked briskly and with purpose- out of the three of us, Sandy and I are the most out-of-shape.

The sky kept breaking and we kept walking.

Warm-up ended, and we began to run. Then, the expected happened. Curtains of rain began to fall on us as we turned right on Flint Ave. and headed north. At first, the rain surprised the dogs and caused a few missteps but they quickly resumed pace in front of me. I was soaked in less than a minute; they were soaked in about two.

I think it was when we reached the Mass Communications building that I realized how rejuvenating this run had become. My clothes were sticking to me, almost as if they weren't there at all, and I was running nude. It felt weird, but I began to focus on how cleansing the moment felt. The dogs were panting. Still, they kept at my side- I'm certain the rain helped hydrate them to some extent.

The puddles of the evening became small ponds of the night. My lips tasted salty from my sweat and my nose was filled with the smell of wet dog. Yet the rain constantly washed and rewashed away any sourness I could experience.

I thought about how in literature, rain can symbolize rebirth. For those forty five minutes or so under the storm, I let the rain wash away any tensions I had. They fell to the ground with each step like the water on my body, collected in pools, and I forgot them.

With fresh rain bathing my face and in rhythm with the run, I only focused on being.

more later,

Gabe

the Lights are on; the Drapes are open

This summer has proven to be exceptionally trialing. Living with mom and dad again brings back the troubling past. Arguments, shouts, tears, minds in confusion, and words spoken too soon. We are not in the past, though. We are in the present.

[I am a significant part of the problem.]

I named this post, "the Lights are On; the Drapes are open".
One of my book shelves is in front of the window in my room. When I first moved back to the house, I would close the curtains each night and reopen them again in the morning but that became monotonous and I tired of caring. I used to be very concerned with potential eyes spying from a distance but I've since stopped caring too. I mean, the window doesn't face the street, but still, at one point that would unsettle me greatly. I also have the fan light on which is exceptionally brighter than my lamps. The naked window combined with the bright light make for a very vulnerable environment. However, I am vulnerable. I am strong, yes, but sometimes, especially these past weeks, I've been tested constantly and my flaws have shone brighter that normal. Mom and Dad see them. Dark colors are revealed to the ones I love most- the ones I feel most comfortable around.

I'm strong in that I accept my vulnerability and exist. I can simply be. I can also work on being more productive around the house to help out my parents, who give me everything.

more later,

gabriel

The Smell of Eggs

I don't give advice very often. Listening to people, to my friends and family, associates and 'enemies', I'm constantly observing. How does he/she lead her life? Do they know truth? Do they know love? With some people, I'm relaxed and I feel completely comfortable. My comfort may come from many things, but I what I tap into the most is some one's presence. Let's say I'm with a friend and we are talking with one another but he or she is constantly getting texts, responding to these messages, or looking over my head to others around. Or, let's say I'm with a friend who's constantly expressing ideas with little substance, e.g. "This should be like this", "Why is this the way it is?", or "That's life". Maybe I'm losing you. The point I'm trying to make is that I can tell when someone is consumed by things that are probably not in his or her best interest; that they are not acting, living, and thinking in the present. I can feel their insecurities, their worry- their glass is half empty. However, I rarely try to change the thought process. Yes, I'm their friend and I care about them. Yes, I have strong convictions that if he or she did this or that, then things might be 'better'. In the end, though, it's only better in my eyes. What is good for me is most likely not good for another. I could talk to my friend for a long time and still have said nothing. I mean, I can be saying nothing right now. If they ask for help, I will give it. Always. I will choose my words with caution.

No one gave me advice. (Of course my mom and dad lead by example, but their worth is beyond words.) In the end, in my deepest shit, it was I who persevered. Not any other soul ran my race. Just me. Heck, I'm still running.

More later,

gabe

Summer Nights in West Texas

Wow, I just got pulled over by a cop for the second time in less than three months. This time, I inched forward too much and failed to signal 100 feet before the turn. Granted, it was about 2:20 AM, but still. I mean, c'mon, give me a break. I received a verbal warning and yes, I'm fucking thankful. Gah, if I had gotten another ticket, that would have sucked exponentially. The first ticket was awarded to me in May when I failed to stop at a stop sign on campus. I'll give it to that cop- it's like mom said, "You could have been a predator for all he knew." The cop tonight, well, I simply think he thought I was drunk. I do, however, have this idea that these two cops haven't liked my liberal, pro-environment, and evocative stickers. Fuck 'em. I kept thinking, "I hate cops, I hate all cops, I HATE all cops." I really don't. I have clocked a few going well over the speed limit and doing other trivial illegal things, but of course, I've never seen a cop pull over another cop. The system is corrupt. Whatever.

The point of this post was to illuminate how I have really enjoyed being in, dare I say it, Lubbock, Texas. These past weeks have been relaxing. No, I don't have a job and I have very few commitments (the ones I do have I tend to half-ass or procrastinate on, duh) so it's only logical that I am having such a nice time. Yes, I do waste time watching Weeds on Netflix and sleeping until the early afternoon, but I'm enjoying myself! Very much. Leave it up to my mother to point out where I'm drifting from "the norm".
I love her. So much. And that's all I'll say about her.

It's been wonderful to step outside around 8:30 PM, see the clouds roll in, let the dogs rest on the back porch with me, and just sit in silence. I hear the last songs of the birds as they settle down for the night. I feel the temperature gradually drop and the breeze quicken around my body. It's transforming.
I am a creature of the night.

Rain may come.
Last night, I was trying to catch up on my reading and I decided to sit out back again. Despite the few bug bites, it's was calming to listen to the rain and have jazz playing on one of the public radio stations. If you live in Lubbock, 88.1 FM is nonstop Jazz in the evening and all-day BBC broadcasts. Bliss.

This world is good. Very good. One can say whatever he or she pleases to blame this or that for the evil that saturates our societies. Fuck it. What the hell does he or she know? Only what he or she knows, and that's it.

Hmm, I'll leave my other thoughts for another night.

G∆ß∑ 

The End Begins

In response to a friend's blog about why some people really don't like Justin Bieber...well, I suppose he's (the blogger) right in noting that some people just have different tastes. Maybe I'm just a little jealous because I'm a singer/songwriter as well, and I just don't think Justin Bieber is all that great. Sure his voice is "great" but it is really high. In response to the blogger's post: Justin Timberlake's music is similar, but I think Timberlake is advertising something a little different than Bieber. Buber, in my opinion, is just a "cute" wittle teenager with long hipster hair that wants as many young girls to scream over him as he can. I know, I know, Bieber has a single mother and without this revealed talent by Usher, they'd probably be struggling to make the minimum. Didn't the Jonas Brothers sell a very similar image to that of Bieber? I think so. The JB and Bieber's music, while I guess it's catchy and shows signs hard working individuals, has little substance as compared to many other artists. Whatever, that was enough of Bieber because I'm embarrassed that his image gets this much out of me.

Finals are litterally around the corner. Term papers, finals, book reviews, all that shit should be dominating my schedule. But whatever.

The summer should be good. Spain should be even better. My future looks even better than that.

At 19, almost 20, I've sincerely come to terms with the fact that I won't have enough time to do all the things I want/need to do in my life and that's okay.

Never stop questioning.

Book Review:
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
You, whoever you are, must read this book. It might change you a lot or not at all, but it's well worth the time. It's a highly intelligent work with dynamics that have the ability to reshape the way you perceive the people and places around you.

Movie Review:
Food, Inc.
Watch this.
And then watch PETA videos. Contrary to popular belief, these things are not radical, they're reality.

Music Review:
Plastikman
Minimalist techno is my new "love". Its smooth deep vibes transform me and I'd like to just be intoxicated and go on a journey.


Hush child, look closer.

Just Thinking

So it's late. My schedule is so inconsistent. Story of my life. I think I started going to bed late when I was in the 5th grade. Sheesh, kind of an early start, no? It wasn't my parents' fault, though. I just felt compelled to stay up late. Even though I was in bed, I would make believe all sorts of things, letting my imagination take hold of me. I didn't fight it.

Now that I'm a sophomore in college, there are many more distractions to keep me up. This blog is only one of them.

My roommate is dumb. He's so shallow. I don't want to mention it, but he's a frat boy. That might explain some things. I'm learning a few things about the "brotherhood" and I see that as one of my only learning experiences with this new living environment; besides the fact that I have to sleep a whole three and a half feet from him. It's really hard at times and I get so damn frustrated. I know I'm not alone in feeling this.

It's better than home. Sometimes.

I'm shallow too. I'm all of the things I don't like in people. And I want to be all of the things I admire in the those who are my friends.

Here's a picture I like. Maybe you'll like it too.

I took it in NYC this past summer: One of my best summers.

Los quiero mis amigos! Los extraño!!!!!

So it begins

Book Review:
In the Woods by Tana French
~I picked up this book in the library simply based on the cover- a coat of dark branches bleeding away from the lettering. It looked cool, why not? What an intricately, detailed, and palpable story she wove! Ms. French brings such life from her pages. The novel, in it's entirety, is grippingly delicious.

Movie Review:
Midnight Cowboy
~Terribly deep. I too wonder why Dustin Hoffman did not receive best actor for his role as Rico Rizzo. Jon Voightt did a terrific job portraying the arrogant and naive young bull, Joe Buck. We never find out what really happened to Joe Buck, but throughout the film, his flashbacks give us some idea. His short friendship with Rico gives Joe some direction but ultimately leaves him devoid of fulfillment. If you haven't seen this, see it.

Music Review:
Andrew Bird
~I simply love Andrew Bird and his music. From melodic whistleing to ravishing pizzicatos, this is music worthy of praise.