Summer semester is over and finally I get some sort of vacations. Maybe you've already had your fun and stuff but I have not. Spring and Summer were pretty hardcore on my (school and work) but they're way behind now.
I've always been pretty good at holding on to the past but I think that the more I live the more I realize that there is a present to live for.
Sure, you've heard this before. Maybe from me, maybe from someone else but is it true? Think about it, how many time have you done something and you didn't fully enjoy it because you were thinking about something that happened before?
I have been there and done that. More times that I can count.
I'm going to visit my family in four days. And for the first time ever, I'm not going back to my past but rather to live my present.
It's easier said than done. I get that. And perhaps something happened to you that screwed you enough and you feel like there's nothing left to live for but I'll tell you something I learned the hard way that I need to move on, for myself and for what's next.
Think about it. Really think about it.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
Home Sweet Home?
Last week I was thinking about so many things I wanted to write here. I organized my thoughts as the night would surround me at work and thinking about writing was my outlet from all the work-related stress. But then I'd get home so tired that writing was the last thing in my mind, and laying back with the book I'm reading (Born in Death by JD Robb) seemed like a better choice to spend my evening.
Days went by and I kept getting new ideas for something to write. It started with this thing about homeless people, then how I don't feel writing does portray writers faithfully. But it didn't stop there. It also turned into what could be a good reason to move somewhere else, or how the fact that we love someone won't always mean that we'd always want to be with that person or how adapting to new environments can make your life easier but the feeling of not belonging remains with you.
As you can imagine, by the time I got here and sat in front of this familiar screen, I had no idea what I wanted to talk about. So after a minute or two of thinking (My thinking time is limited these days), I figured I might as well just pick one, talk about it, and whenever I could get to it, do the same with the other ones. So that I'll do and hopefully tiredness won't catch up enough to me to keep from discussing the other ones.
Home Sweet Home.
I go to school during the day and usually go to work at night (Not every night though, sometimes school work or social life take over my nights). I leave my house at around seven and on a good night, come back home at eleven. It's something we all take for granted, coming home to a family, a dog (or cat), a bed or whatever it is that you go home to.
While I rest in bed with my book in my lap, I sometimes forget that there are (millions of) other people that lay on the street (or some park or some shelter). I forget about them because I don't see them. Because me and my friends don't talk about them. Because the media would never dream to put them on the screen (unless it's totally necessary). But when three homeless people walked into the place where I work, reality hit me hard enough to understand that there are things we need to talk about- even if society would rather make such things invisible.
I should address now the fact that I don't know for sure that these three gentlemen were homeless. But if I follow social rules and look at their attire, their appearance, their bag full with stuff I'd never understand where they get from, and for the purpose of this entry, I can assume that they were indeed homeless.
I work in a movie theater. Actually, not just any movie theater. The theater where I work is extremely fancy- to the point that we have theaters that are filled with couches (yes couches! It's like watching a movie from your living room... but with better couches than yours!). Diane Keaton, Tom Hanks, Kyle Chandler, Ray Liotta, Helen Hunt and Catherine Keener are just a short list of the people I've personally seen coming to where I work.
Hopefully you get the idea by now, and perhaps why when three men that didn't fit the stereotype of socially acceptance, managers and security were suddenly in the lookout. They did get tickets for a (sold out) movie and even packed up with popcorn and sodas, and waited in line like everyone else. Granted they reeked of so many things I couldn't quite pick one and I'm sure someone other than me also wonder where on earth they thought they could place their big bags.
At the end (but before the movie even started), enough people complained of "their noise, their smell, their bags" that they had to be escorted out just to keep 297 people content (The theater holds 300 people). Something in my stomach felt wrong. It was very simple, if I didn't have my parents' help, if I get into an accident (I don't have insurance- God bless our government), if I get too depressed to go on with life- that could have been me. I know you may be thinking that is a LONG shot but reality is that no one is far from it- we just ignore it as much as possible.
I wanted to say something but as a simple employee my opinion doesn't really count. And even then, I imagined sitting next to them and the way the reeked of alcohol (among other things) and knew that I couldn't have stood that for the two hours and twenty minutes that Public Enemies would play for. It was a lose-lose situation.
I know I can't do much (on my own), but maybe some awareness may help.
Days went by and I kept getting new ideas for something to write. It started with this thing about homeless people, then how I don't feel writing does portray writers faithfully. But it didn't stop there. It also turned into what could be a good reason to move somewhere else, or how the fact that we love someone won't always mean that we'd always want to be with that person or how adapting to new environments can make your life easier but the feeling of not belonging remains with you.
As you can imagine, by the time I got here and sat in front of this familiar screen, I had no idea what I wanted to talk about. So after a minute or two of thinking (My thinking time is limited these days), I figured I might as well just pick one, talk about it, and whenever I could get to it, do the same with the other ones. So that I'll do and hopefully tiredness won't catch up enough to me to keep from discussing the other ones.
Home Sweet Home.
I go to school during the day and usually go to work at night (Not every night though, sometimes school work or social life take over my nights). I leave my house at around seven and on a good night, come back home at eleven. It's something we all take for granted, coming home to a family, a dog (or cat), a bed or whatever it is that you go home to.
While I rest in bed with my book in my lap, I sometimes forget that there are (millions of) other people that lay on the street (or some park or some shelter). I forget about them because I don't see them. Because me and my friends don't talk about them. Because the media would never dream to put them on the screen (unless it's totally necessary). But when three homeless people walked into the place where I work, reality hit me hard enough to understand that there are things we need to talk about- even if society would rather make such things invisible.
I should address now the fact that I don't know for sure that these three gentlemen were homeless. But if I follow social rules and look at their attire, their appearance, their bag full with stuff I'd never understand where they get from, and for the purpose of this entry, I can assume that they were indeed homeless.
I work in a movie theater. Actually, not just any movie theater. The theater where I work is extremely fancy- to the point that we have theaters that are filled with couches (yes couches! It's like watching a movie from your living room... but with better couches than yours!). Diane Keaton, Tom Hanks, Kyle Chandler, Ray Liotta, Helen Hunt and Catherine Keener are just a short list of the people I've personally seen coming to where I work.
Hopefully you get the idea by now, and perhaps why when three men that didn't fit the stereotype of socially acceptance, managers and security were suddenly in the lookout. They did get tickets for a (sold out) movie and even packed up with popcorn and sodas, and waited in line like everyone else. Granted they reeked of so many things I couldn't quite pick one and I'm sure someone other than me also wonder where on earth they thought they could place their big bags.
At the end (but before the movie even started), enough people complained of "their noise, their smell, their bags" that they had to be escorted out just to keep 297 people content (The theater holds 300 people). Something in my stomach felt wrong. It was very simple, if I didn't have my parents' help, if I get into an accident (I don't have insurance- God bless our government), if I get too depressed to go on with life- that could have been me. I know you may be thinking that is a LONG shot but reality is that no one is far from it- we just ignore it as much as possible.
I wanted to say something but as a simple employee my opinion doesn't really count. And even then, I imagined sitting next to them and the way the reeked of alcohol (among other things) and knew that I couldn't have stood that for the two hours and twenty minutes that Public Enemies would play for. It was a lose-lose situation.
I know I can't do much (on my own), but maybe some awareness may help.
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