Like the neglected step-child

Like the neglected step-child, I have seriously avoided my blog.  I truly apologize to my readers and equally important, to myself.

This entry is dedicated to Brandon Boyd's superior influence upon me and my future aspirations.  

If you don't know who Brandon Boyd is you can do one of two things.  One, you can stop reading this blog or two, you can educate yourself.  I guarantee you will not be disappointed, the man is a genius.

Here is my plan:

1. Keep the job I have now.  I currently work as a longshoreman which is pretty profitable but not a career I plan on pursuing in the long run.  I don't love it and if I'm going to do something for the rest of my life I better love it.  The problem is that before I came up with this "plan" I hadn't discovered what I loved.  Hopefully I have truly accomplished that in this vision.

2.  Get a degree in Creative Writing.  I am currently enrolled at Brooklyn College, my third school in five years.  Yep, this is my fifth year and i still do not have my bachelors.  I have been severely overwhelmed by the graduations of all my friends while I swallowed their dust.  There shouldn't be a designated time to graduate.  Society dictates when someone should graduate, move out, get a job, etcetera, etcetera.  I'm tired of societies influence.

3.  Work on buying a drum set.  When is it too late to learn to play an instrument you have a silent attraction, rather infatuation with?  Never!  I honestly think everyone is crazy by calling me crazy in wanting to learn to play the drums at the age of 22.  Fuck you very much, don't shit on what on want to do!  If you feel like invoking negativity, kindly step away from my positive ora.

4.  Continue to write.  With a creative writing major comes courses in fiction writing, including poetry.  Lyrics are poetry and poetry sprouts with love.  If I write my poetry/lyrics with love, people will be sure to hear me.

5.  Lessons.  I highly doubt I am a prodigy (although I don't like to exclude anything) so i'll need some drum lessons.  Reading music, playing music, and spreading love will be my focus.

6.  Start a band, write the lyrics and play the drums!  YOU'RE NOT 16 ANYMORE CHRIS!! BE REALISTIC!!  Call me an idealist then because I'm not listening.

7.  Make a living off of love.  Love what I do and do what I love.

Call me crazy to be majoring in such a dead end degree or for having such a farfetched concept of success but I finally know what I REALLY want to do.  Check the pessimism and negative at the door, my life has no room for such concepts.

A time I wish time would stop.

So, Recently I've adopted a mild case of insomnia.  To be more precise, my internal clock has proven to be dysfunctional as I have lost all sense of time.  

However, whenever the clock strikes between the hours of 2 and 3 am, I am given a sign. Apparently my brain has established a set time in which paranoia greets me.  At the inappropriate hours of 2 to 3 am, I become antsy and feel alone. Not even the likes of youtube can aid me in this isolated state.

For the last three days, my dad has been in Florida on a business trip and well it seems as though I've gotten closer to my sister and my mother in the process. Albeit this bonding occurs from 2 to 3 in the morning.  You see, when the paranoia sets in, I, speak up.  Its become routine, and at first they may put forth the veil of apprehension attached with a side order of huff-and-puff, but in the end we get into these long full-fledged conversations.

The extent of the material covered is limitless: 

1. money 

2. careers

3. the past

4. aspirations

5. expectations 

6. even about life in general.  

The last topic is a little vague but in essence covers all the topics mentioned previous (1-5).

The genres of our conversations are limitless as well:

1. comedy

2. horror

3. drama

4. fantasy

5. musicals (yes, musicals!  We sometimes break into song)

The emotions however, are priceless:

Anger- Toward those who have hurt us.
Annoyance- For having this take place at 2 to 3 am.
Compassion- For those who have left us.
Curiosity- Into each other's lives.
Desire- To learn more and more about each other
Disappointment- In our ability to ignore a more suitable time to speak.
Disgust- At certain decisions we have made.
Empathy- For the struggles we have overcome.
Embarrassment- For that time I put on my mom's make-up, or that time my sister peed her pants at 10 years old while dreaming, or the time my mom forgot me at a truck stop (ha ha).
Fear- Of the unknown.

Frustration- Over the little things.
Gratitude- For the times we helped each other out.
Guilt- For the times that could have been.
Happiness- For what we have accomplished.
Hope- For what is to come.
Jealousy- That has ensued because of that sibling rivalry.
Love- Unconditionally; for one another.
Pride- In who we have become.
Rage- Against the machine (I can't recall this emotion, but check out the band, they're not too shabby, ha).
Regret- For having Dad miss these past nights.
Remorse- Toward our extended family feuds.
Sadness- For all, having to suffer through this grim economy.
Shame- For not being ourselves at times.
Surprise- By some of the things we didn't really know about each other.
Wonder- What is to come.

To have wonder as the last emotion is fitting.  I wonder if when we continue these conversations I will experience the most desirable emotion I can imagine.  The emotion I hope to conjure up within my family the most is acceptance.

But for now all I can do is hope.

Hope, they know how much they mean to me.  Hope, they know how much these unorthodoxly timed conversations mean to me.  Hope, they know how much their acceptance means to me. Hope, I mean as much to them as they mean to me.  

I wish, 2 to 3 am would never end!

Self-analysis

Inhale... 

     Exhale...

           Inhale...

                Exhale...Take a deep breath.                      

Release...

Hi, I'm Christopher.  I'm a student of life who is constantly learning.  I have an addiction to thinking obsessively and over analyzing.  I'm working on both.