Welcome to the personal blog of brickmii82
- Background color
- Background image
- Font Type
- Font Size
I was mulling over whether to make this entry, but I think it's best if I do. It's exploding out of me, so here I am.
From my previous entries, it's been clear that I still have some baggage from a past relationship. Today I met someone that really has my mind blown. She's gorgeous, intelligent, and I really enjoyed her company. She has some baggage as well, so I think it's best to take things slowly. But, I think we'd be good together.
I think she feels the same way, but I don't want to rush too quickly. I just know I can't wait to see her again. I hope the feeling is mutual.
I've been dating for a year, and this is the first time I felt something for another woman. This anxiety is fucking with my head. I can't stop thinking about her! I wanna hold her so bad! I was so determined to stay single, but damn, I really connected with her. My dad was right. "You never know who you're going to meet," he said.
As I'm sure those of you who have seen me recently know, I've begun blogging quite often. It's something I had never given an attempt, or even a thought to. I had nothing against it. I just generally keep to myself. I tend to be a bit reserved, and enjoy curious eyes from people's foray into my mystique.
These past few months have certainly been taxing on my mind, body, and soul. I've dealt with regurgitated romantic feelings regularly, started a gaming/media project, got back into school, and began putting myself overall back into relevancy.
All of this had me deep in thought about where my creative outlet is. I hate writing, and never thought of myself as a writer. Well, in a court-ordered class (More on that later) I was told that I seem like a writer by the way I think, speak, and carry myself. I used to write poems and songs in my free time, but it always felt like I was doing it to get laid rather than for myself.
Enter the Temp, a place I've accepted as a safe space for my thoughts and an outlet. You may see some of the content here as "cancerous", or "spamming", but it's not likely you've seen the things I've seen. And if you have, my hearts with you even more. I came from the hood. A place that you find drugs and dead bodies on a weekly, if not daily basis.
I've sold crack in condemned buildings, kicked in people's doors, ran from the cops at 130 MPH, been shot at, shot back, and been to more friends funerals than I care to remember. From downtown Henderson in Nevada, to Newport News in Virginia, to Maryvale in Arizona, I've been in some terrible places.
You become disillusioned with humanity when you see and experience this shit. Hurting someone becomes as easy as getting dressed in the morning. Someone hurting you becomes reason for havoc and destruction, even if it's your own. There's no law but "G code." It's outright insanity.
As things moved forward in my life, I dropped out of school and began selling weapons and drugs. I worked also, but most of my jobs were for people I sold to. It was grandiose and thrilling, feeling that kind of power. When you can tell your boss, "I'm leaving at 12 but clock me out at 5", and he doesn't say shit but "ok," yeah, that's an ego-trip waiting to happen.
Then the big opportunity came. My chance to be Scarface. I had gotten ahold of an old friend from Detroit, and he needed weight. A kilo of cocaine and at least 40 Lbs of weed. I packed up my bags, got what was needed, and off I went.
In comes the blessing in the form of a curse. I was stopped, searched, and arrested in the panhandle of Texas. Court proceedings continued for a year, and I was ultimately placed on Deferred Adjudication (Probation) for 8 years.
I spent that 8 years becoming a better person. Someone that anyone would be proud to know. I began a family, established a career in automotive service, and let go of the past. I didn't realize it at the time, in fact I was pissed off for most of it, but that officer saved my life and my soul.
I still have my run-ins with the law, but its few and far between. I don't cause trouble. I just end up in situations. Mostly by "talking softly but carrying a big stick." Hence the name brickmii, meaning "try and break me, I fucking dare you." I know when a fights not worth it, but if it is, I go for throats. Hence the court-ordered class. Anger management. Again.
Why am I telling this story? Why would I put this out there? Because I want a bad boy image? No. Because I want to seem "edgy"? Fuck no. I did it because it's my blog, and I like writing after all, and I suppose I'm pretty decent at it. If you think I'm lying, I don't care. If you think I'm asking for attention, I don't care. I blog for me. I blog because it makes me a better person.
I got baked a few days ago and started a spirit animal joke with some friends. I joked about me being a gorilla, because I have an abundance of body hair. We went on teasing ourselves and each other, and eventually just polished off a couple pizzas and crashed out.
Well, I've been thinking about it more in depth. From my understanding, a spirit animal is a creature whose personality traits and character traits reflect yours. If that's the case, I'd have to say I'm actually an orca. I love the ocean, but I need air as well. I can be playful, but vicious as well. I enjoy family, and company as well. I don't like captivity, and it has affected me forever.
How about you? What's yours and why?
I'll preface this by telling a bit of my story. My mother was a housewife when she and my father were still married. My dad was a Senior Chief in the US Navy, and a submarine crewman. They divorced and my mother went all gung-ho on mental health, and stuck it to my dad pretty hard. She contributed to making it difficult for us to continue father/son relations, and he eventually just stopped trying.
I went almost 25 years without my father being around. Hell, we never even spoke and I didn't even know what he looked like. I had a lot of animosity about it until after I had my son. I began to correlate the love I had for my son, to the anger I had towards my father. I decided that I would speak with him and see how things turned out.
Well, it was sporadic at first. A Facebook message every few months, a letter here and there. Nothing too substantial. Just banter of family and friends, TV, movies, games. Eventually it withered (admittedly by my ineptitude) and we hadn't spoken for almost 2 years.
Then came disaster. My then-wife had decided to split up, and I was in shambles. I lost my job, vehicle, house, and focus. I didn't know how to deal with this, so I made a Facebook post asking for support.
Enter my father. The man I wanted to know, but hadn't taken the time or effort to make it happen. He messages me and asks if I'm alright. I say no, I'm a mess. He tells me to let it go, and come stay with him for awhile and see what happens. I said lets do it.
I flew out that weekend. When I arrived, he made sure I had anything I needed and we talked for a long while about everything. From him and my mother, to me and my ex. We cleared the air. It was a massive release.
I stayed there with him for about 4 1/2 months. We built a great relationship. He said he was proud of the man I'd become, and that his biggest regret in life was losing contact with my brother and I. I only left because I couldn't get my kids there.
He was diagnosed with prostate cancer shortly before my split, and didn't tell me until I got there. He comforted me by saying it's early stage, and they'll just "cut it out." I talked to people and researched, and it seemed he was right.
Well, he wasn't. He's undergone numerous surgeries and treatments, and it just grows back. A fucking filthy, festering, evil natured disease is going to take my father from me just when I've established a bond. He's in radiation therapy now, but it's risky as hell because he's already been exposed to radiation from his sub service. If you didn't know, there's a lifetime recommended limit to radiation exposure. He's well over it. He just called asking about Christmas gifts for my kids. I'm interpreting this as he doesn't think he has much time left.
Fuck me running, can I get a breather before more shit piles on?!? Fuck you cancer! If my generation doesn't finish you, the next one will!!
So my ex-wife and I are still friends. I never wanted to be that "my ex is a bitch" kind of guy so I made the choice that we'll still be close friends, but it weighs on my heart.
If I'm being honest, I'm still in love. I genuinely still love her. It's weird when I talk to her though. We chat about anything and everything(we know each other really well), and we can give each other honest assessments when it comes to advice. This includes love lifes, and sometimes it's tough.
We've both already started dating again, but it still takes a bit of time to take in when I hear of her escapades. I can be objective, but it still leaves me a bit emotional. I miss her.
I suppose a split from someone you truly love never completely heals, it just leaves a scar you'll always notice when you look at it. That's ok.
I still feel good when I think of the good times. I can remember the bad as well, but it was good as well.
My best friend is going through some tough times at the moment, and I don't think he's gonna be OK for awhile. He and his ex/kids mom just had a really nasty split. She kicked him out of the house, jumped right in with someone else, and his kid was sent away to keep them distant from the chaos.
I picked him up and he's staying with me. I don't mind, he's been really supportive of me in my hard times. I try and keep him occupied with games and projects, but he has breakdowns every now and then. Moments of vengeance in his eyes, and other moments of emotional outburst. Usually tears and holding his head in his hands.
It breaks my heart to see him so distraught. He's a great guy, and one of the most loyal and honest people I've ever met. Funny thing is, he dated my ex-wife before I met her. That's how we became friends, she invited him over to a BBQ we were having. She was honest, told me about their past. I'm not the jealous type so it didn't bother me. Now we're pretty close, almost like family. He helps my mom on her ranch and runs errands with my son sometimes. You never know where a good friendship will come from, do you?
Anyways, I suppose I'm just attempting to blog. I really don't have any questions on how to handle this. I went through it myself so I know his pain. Hell, he supported me when my divorce went down. He just needs an ear and a bit of advice every now and then. And a place.
It's whatever, he'll come back to himself eventually. We all have highs and lows. I just won't let him give in.
WeedZ likes this.