betrayal

a smile of disbelief
is the only reaction
to a conversation not meant for me
but the brief upturn does not last,
depressing, expressing my pain
as it slowly fades

because even wincing a little more
as each word drives deeper,
riddling me with emptiness
and answers to questions
i never thought to ask,
i feel a calm embrace
and become a little more numb

end of a boycott?

i swam twice this summer. once at tyler's house after i tackled robbie into the pool (might as well swim around a bit now that i'm here) and once at kat's apartment. i wore whatever shorts i had on and whatever i borrowed from robbie, respectively. i own board shorts but i have no idea where to find them. and those situations weren't planned.

walking through kohl's yesterday i saw some cool board shorts on sale, so i bought them. i realize my recent lack of pool attendance and the end of summer approaching but i was sold on the 'cool' and 'sale' parts. they're also very comfortable for the everyday (these and board shorts in general) and have pockets--two things i should have with me at all times (unless laura's around, then pockets are less the necessity). and who knows when robbie will dole out some payback.

looking around the store, shorts and a fila shirt in hand (also on sale, but even more awesome that they still make fila...who knew), my coworker randy asked why i was buying nike shorts. we had just been in a sports store, where he suggested a nike shirt, and although it was a nice shirt, i refused because of my hatred for nike. well, more disapproval than raw hatred. he asked, and i explained that aside from a free brazil soccer jersey and a manchester united jersey i bought at a game in seattle, i own nothing nike. i don't like their soccer shoes, and some of their other soccer equipment is shotty, as is a lot of their advertising, and i've developed a distaste for the brand. he didn't get it. i had a hard time justifying my feelings beyond "i like some of their stuff, but it's nike, and i don't buy nike."

back to kohl's, cool cheap shorts in hand, when BAM, nike happens. i'd already committed to the shorts, and this revelation made me rethink my feelings towards nike. why didn't i buy from them again? they have good equipment, comfortable apparel and quality training/sportswear. i just don't like their shoes. and really, their casual shoes are chill, just their soccer shoes. well, maybe all their cleated shoes bother me.

i know i know, ridiculous. so i bought the shorts and i might be open to some of their other products (like the shirt randy showed me, and this sweet pair of kicks that are probably discontinued by now). i think i've reconciled my feelings...or at least forgotten the reasons they were there. either way i have some new shorts and more freedom (physically unrelated, the short have the inner swimming liner and are rather supportive without being too restrictive).

generic food

i've been sampling generic food lately.

growing up with access to farm fresh everything for most of my life made me apprehensive to grocery stores when i first started buying food. eventually, the need to eat (and love of food) prevailed and now grocery stores are my friends. i started buying what food looked good, and upon confirming at home, continued to buy the same brands. lately i've decided that if ibuprofen is the same as motrin, maybe generic food is the same as name brands.

sometimes that is true, sometimes that is a huge mistake. food is something i am not willing to sacrifice quality for quantity. i have time to shop for deals, or drive to a wal*mart or h-e-b for better prices on quality food. but if a generic is just as good, why not save some money.

recently, i tried some wal*mart brand peanut butter i found in my cupboard when the jif ran out. i've been a jif kid all my life because that is what my parents always had around (adam's is better, but i can never find it). but i wanted a pb&j, so i tried the wal*mart stuff. disgusting. awful. i spit it out. now i know why my parents always had jif, despite generics of many other foods: you cannot mess with peanut butter. even some of the name brands are bad, and wal*mart destroyed a good product (and a potentially excellent sandwich).

so i'm a little more cautious now, but i will continue experimenting with generics...albeit in smaller packages.

naga tournament

last weekend was my first brazilian jiu-jitsu tournament. for more information on bjj, check out robbie's blog for videos (mostly of moves he wants to try on me). it did not go well. i got injured in my first no-gi match, and pulled out of my gi division. most unfortunate. i'm still upset. that won't change for a while...probably december when the next naga (north american grappling association) tournament is held in dallas.

on the plus side, that has motivated me to work harder and set tougher (and at times mostly ridicilous) goals. more updates on those later.

sleep deprivation

It's day time.
I'm not sure what day
But we're behind schedule
And it will be night soon,
Not that cycles
Of the sun and moon matter;
They happen so fast
My eyes cannot adjust,
Just register the change,
But that's enough
Considering how they shake
Trying to keep up with
Pieces of each
While I move in slow motion
Around this location where
Colors turn gray
And all sensations fade,
Replaced with scenes of
Yesterday and tomorrow
And like tripping on my own conscious
The comedown and high coincide
Constantly, for days sometimes,
Creating a three acre singularity,
Where even sleep
Is often just a dream,
Stealing my life
One week at a time
Before I realize
It might still be Monday
And maybe the last few days
Of hallucinating
Was really all in my head.

in between dreams

in between dreams
of unpleasant things
i toss and turn
unsure whether
i am awake or asleep

in between dreams
nonsense constantly
invades my conscious
and i cannot think
only feel the sheets
encasing my soul's screams

in between dreams
they refuse to release
my weary mind
for a moments rest
holding me tightly
as a subverted being
the captive of my dreams

brickyard

a handful of houses
in pieces, in piles
different shades but all the same

driveways and parkways
in snowflake flats
stacked no higher than a man stands

a low steel fence
guards a gravel yard
where only dreams and memories remain