It’s April!

Today mark’s my return to the writing world. Hopefully, I don’t lapse into the tune of my past posts. Those were written with some daunting thoughts. Albeit, I do use this as a platform to write away negative thoughts as it were and in practice is a form of cleansing those thoughts from my daily life. So if you chance upon reading my previous posts, keep in mind the emotion is a fickle thing and attitudes are apt to change with time.

April is one of my favorite months. April showers bring May flowers and that is definitely a little pleasure that I guiltily anticipate each year. If you pay close attention there is such simple delight in flowers. How they grow and stretch for the sun’s light and how they drink up all that the earth gives freely to them. It’s such a wonder and even moreso when you take the time as they say, to take the time to smell the roses.

People could be like flowers if they wish to be and I can see different flowers in each person or different plants representing people. Like most roses with thorns (I recently found there to be thornless roses), some people can be both beautiful and protect themselves from animals that may consume them – not giving into their circumstances while remaining poised. People can be delicate and simple like daisies or peonies serving purpose to the bees and hummingbirds.

I believe most people who choose to believe that fresh cut flowers are wasteful are my kind of people, but I can see that when we take them away from their stems we wish to possess a moment of their beauty before futility. It’s such a fleeting unexplainable feeling that is so hard for people not to give in. There is such an allure to it …

Anyway, just a disclaimer, this blog should be renamed to complete random thoughts indexed by prose. I have no real wish to be focused on any one subject but rather the syntax and flow of words. Don’t think you take a bit of a look into who I am because words are words …

Goodbye oh reasonable world

If you still think it’s not about race and you believe yourself an educated person then you should realize ignorance when you see it. If you take a side subjectively without being informed and doing your own research, you are blinded by what you think you believe to be true and set. The things I get upset over are not trivial or inconsiderate but it is reserved for when people decide not to have an opinion and just spout stupid words and opinions that are not formulated from their own mind or fact checking. Make sense with your words and not compilations of other peoples opinions and thoughts. Have a voice, be insightful. Social media is not true social media when reasonable discussion and debate are flamed more often than thoughtful and insightful and valuable to the social issues at hand. We all know deep down inside the internet is a whirlpool that swirls bad and good together so much that it blinds us more than ever.

if one believes that FB is not a place for discussion of current events then what is social media good for but to hide behind a screen and step in when it actually affects us personally. This goes for forums, chat rooms, and any place you can place your comment and therefore opinion. The people who exercise their right to freedom of speech to speak hatefully and untruthfully and distastefully and disgustingly have hate for themselves. If you don’t think it is, go to different news outlets sites and read the commments section … it’s amazing how MANY people hide behind a screen to say the most disturbing things.

Everything that’s going on in the world, affects us personally. We live in the bubbles that we blow ourselves. pop the bastion of safe opinion, share your voice in an articulate fashion.

These days i’m looking up to people who place focus on the real issues at hand and don’t step back from these people.

It all started with a dab of mustard …

There is a cafe by my work. A simple, modest little cafe … the only one that caters to a building mostly occupied by state workers and a mix of professionals from the education and IT industry.

I am not a food expert by any means but I have different levels of quality I’ve honed in over the years. Were I to compare this simple spot to a Starbucks, would be completely unfair but of course to discuss the limitations of what these neighborhood cafes can do is another topic.

The cafes in business parks are extremely limited. They do not have kitchen hoods – meaning their kitchens are basically a back room with a wash area, toaster, and microwave. They do not do any cooking whatsoever – which is fine. Their business consists of sandwiches, soups, breakfast, and coffee.

I appreciate the customer service i get at this cafe – they know my name, they listen to suggestions … but the only the thing I can’t get over is … everything has a potential to be better.

Let’s start with last Monday. I had the most fantastic breakfast croissant. Amazing and mouthwatering … expectations sky-rocketed … I’m sure everyone’s heard of Porto’s in Los Angeles, I am a bread fiend and we had some time to stop by there to get there infamous potato balls before making the journey back to Sacramento. But something compelled me to order their breakfast croissant. Their price $4.15 (They have an amazing array of breads and goods, i died and went to heaven walking in there)

Anyway, my whole breakfast life changed the moment I opened up the box holding my Porto’s sandwich … First I noticed everything was nestled inside a sweet croissant, but it all started with a dab of mustard that changed the game …

It blew my mind.

In a flash, all I could think of were the weeks and days I spent my hard earned money on mediocre breakfast sandwiches … $4.08 for this “breakfast croissant” .. the only hearty meal that I would allow myself to buy in the mornings … How could I settle for this all along when somewhere out there was a better, higher quality breakfast sandwich???

My disappointment soon turned into feelings of anguish because there is nothing comparable to a Porto’s in Sacramento. Nothing! I would need to scour all the so-called bakeries in the area to find sweet croissants and then a lovely dijon mustard … to feed this growing obsession. To maybe even encourage this small cafe to consider purchasing local and higher quality breads for their sandwiches and maybe individuals like me unbeknownst to the wonders of the higher end of breakfast could appreciate will have access to …

But alas, there is literally a Costco 2 minutes from here and provides everything this little cafe needs to survive. Once I move to Sacramento with Vic, the journey for a wonderful tasting croissant breakfast sandwich will be on my list of endeavors … To share this delight with the cafe I work by and let them know that there are people who settle for less but once they are given the option of more … the possibilities are endless …

And that is that … memories of my porto’s breakfast croissant with a ham and cheese omelette and a dab of mustard. This morning I gave in and ordered one and with a “dab of mustard” … imagine my disappointment when I received a “slather” of mustard ….

Let go, but I’ll see you soon

Sometimes, I wonder if you are near. But I am not one of those sensitive people of the worlds between worlds.

Just yesterday, He told me that you were around because he felt calmed.  Kahlua saw you. She wagged her tail and looked at a spot right by the warehouse door, barking as though she knew someone was there – where I clearly remember you standing there in your low boots and welcome smile. telling us how awesome it was to be away from the city for the weekend. He said it happened twice and both times everything just felt …  nice.

I normally brush those things off because I never get the first-hand experience, but I’ve had plenty of stories told to me of loved ones who came to visit – in some shape or form.

Like when my great grandmother passed away, she came to my mom in the form of a group of white butterflies. She knew it had to be her because it was in the middle of the night while she was reading and the dogs next door suddenly began barking. This was back in the 90’s when garages were on springs and lifted up at an angle. The garage was slightly opened and they just drifted in and fluttered around her. Just as soon as they came, they fluttered right back out. The next day my grandmother called my mom to let her know that inay passed away.

Or like when Grandma Little passed away, and we came to see them a week after it happened. This was in early 2000’s and the computer turned on. It turned on when we were all in the next room and we heard it click on, the screen buzzing on and it automatically loaded the phone dialer that Grandpa Little used as his long distance phone. You were trying to tell us you were with us and not be afraid.

Or like when His Grandpa came and visited him in his dreams. Both with messages of love and warnings. Warning him to watch out for red lights – the next day listened to his grandpa’s advice and didn’t go on a green light because he had one of those feelings. He narrowly missed someone running the red light that could have t-boned him badly. Warnings are sign that the dreams you have of deceased loved ones are visitation dreams. I believe it wholeheartedly.

Same thing when my uncle passed away. My mother felt when he was gone from this world. Even before they called (We don’t mention these things to grandma because she’s easily spooked)

Anyway, the point of this is of these thoughts is  how dearly i miss you and sometimes I hope you’d come and visit me before the great unknown. Perhaps, I didn’t see or read the signs that you did and I’m okay with that, because I believe you’re everywhere anyway. Just knock 3 times at my window at 3am in the morning, so I know you’re ok.

Happiness is …

… not that ice cream cone you get to eat all by yourself … it’s the melting of it all over your fingers on that hot summer day and laughing with your friends.

…. not an event or something to look forward to … it’s stumbling upon good people and spontaneous opportunity.

… not the celebrating of your birthday … but the people who come together and celebrate another year of life with you.

… finding a way to not look for happiness but to put yourself in every possible pathway or situation that leads you to it.

… not the material things you accumulate, but the memories and feelings invoked from such items.

… love in a teacup with the aroma wafting towards your nose and building up a small knot in your stomach and pulls on strings of nostalgia.

… you. looking at me just like the first time before you even knew you were going to love me forever.

What would I give

I miss those neat curves and lines upon a paper trained by lines, dashes signifying a semi-barrier between two solids. such nimble digits but mind surrenders to fanciful waves of thin lines curling here, hugging there, wherever it goes with no care.

I miss those letters so rudimentary, loaded intrigue and mystery in reading hieroglyphs of innocence.