I got a good heart, he says

Thank you for the advice, bossingjonathan. I think exercise is what I’m going to aim for now. Walking always made me feel good. I got the pain after posting a message to bossingjonathan so I went to the hospital, opting for the night clinic which checked my heart and told me it was probably still a muscle thing, but nothing strained or pulled. I don’t have to the take the medication anymore, so that’s great.

They did an EKG on me and all was well with my heart. I still need to call in for my blood work to see how that came through. Anyway, thank you people who worried with me and passed over your wisdom for my situation–well, bossingjonathan was the only one.

POV

I having problems with my point of view in a short story I’m writing. Because none of my first person narratives ever contain Spanish (because most of my characters are based on my generation), I normally write “Chicano” lit in the third person. Third person always gets a little out of hand with me in the sense that I overly describe a scene, or I don’t do enough. I know I should really wait until I’m finished before I start pondering the whole first person/third person idea, but the story’s already flailing in the wind and the characters are warped versions of what they were meant to be in the first place.

The premise of the story, the plot, I suppose, can be summarize as a man begins to reevaluate his affair after discovering the body of a two year boy floating in the Rio Grande. I was doing all right, for a rough draft, getting down all the details of his discovery and the aftermath, but when describing the origin of his affair, well I’m having a little difficulty letting go of too much description–remember what Poe said about short stories, something something something “not to exceed in length what might be perused in an hour…” something something something—as you can see, that’s probably not the quote I originally wanted to use, but if you know it, feel free to tell me down below.

Now people, I want this to be a short story not anything longer because it shouldn’t be longer than the 25 pages. There isn’t enough history to gain from the idea. In fact, this is only a slice of life in La Colonia, a fictional town based on a very real idea.

I’m sorry; I’m a mess right now. The meds have now polluted my mind and slowing down whatever I was going.

If any writers find this post, please help me out. Should I stick to what I’m doing right now, third person? Or switch over to the first person?

A (sorta) Letter to Obama

I think I’ve made it clear already who my vote goes to, did I not? I love Barack Obama, in the that sick way that the Obama girl does, but I love him nonetheless. However, I’m taken back by something I received in the mail the other day. HOPE HAS ARRIVED! screams the flier. It’s an announcement for early voting, with quips and quotes from important Hispanic people.

It’s no secret that I’m Hispanic. Many people still make the mistake of calling me Chicano, and I’ve accepted that, but let’s face it, I don’t think I deserve that title. These are the quotes:

“Senator Obama brings all these new fresh faces. He has a wider audience. He has the greater potential to engage a greater number of people.”  –U.S. Congressman Charlie Gonzalez

“Barack Obama shares our story and shares out passion for a new America. Obama is committed to bringing real change to a struggling economy, a runaway health care system and reforming education. These are the real kitchen table issues Hispanic families across America care deeply about.” –State Rep. Try Martinez Fisher

“His dedication to his family, strong work ethic, opposition to the war in Iraq and deep faith are all qualities that are important to Latino voters.” –State Rep. Rafael Anchia

“I’m endorsing my friend Barack to become the next President of the United States because he is the one candidate who is looking past the partisan rancor and divisive politics of the moment, and instead focusing on a new approach to policy formation in our country.” –State Rep. Juan Garcia

“I am proud to endorse Sen. Obama for president. Barack Obama has ability to excite a broad coalition of Americans.” –State Rep. Ana Hernandez

“Part of what drives me is his life story. It’s fascinating life story. It’s more than just the issues, it’s his values. I think Hispanics and South Texas should really bed able to relate to him.” –State Rep. Pete P. Gallego

“We are a country that is ready for change. People want to start on a new path, with a new domestic agenda and new international agenda. I see Barack as the ideal candidate to unite the country and unite the world.” –State Rep. Eddie Lucio III

“Obama is a man of faith, courage and principle…people gravitate to his message hope.” –State Rep. Norma Chavez

Um, who?! With the exception of Eddie Lucio, I’ve never heard of any these goons. I feel a little awkward that the political game is to have a bunch of Hispanic political icons to influence my vote. And if I had the time, I’d list pictures of them and gives evidence that they’re not fully Hispanic.

Now I like Obama and I understand what his political push is doing here. But surely, most of the people here don’t know any of these names, even Eddie Lucio. That’s the sad truth of South Texas–Hispanics here, for the most part, are way too apathetic or politically retarded to do or say anything. I don’t like being mean like that and I’m sure the Chicano hound dogs will have me for this one, but I’m not going to sugarcoat it. I have no reason to. The truth is the truth and you all have to accept it, like it or not.

Does Barack do the same thing for the Black voters? The White voters? Jewish? ETC?

I shake my head slowly. I don’t understand why we have to like him because these Hispanics like him. Can’t we like him based solely on the fact that high just might be the right guy for the job? I mean, that’s why I like him so much.

Downer

I don’t know what to write about. This is a problem I come across sometimes and because I have chosen the path as a “writer,” the very fact that no idea comes to mind kills me. I suppose I can talk about the new story I’m writing, or the article revision with a new lead. And one of those can really help me out at this moment, if I knew just where to being.

Sex is on the mind. Yesterday would’ve been good for another Hump Day post, but nothing even came to mind sexual. Not that I was about to talk about my sex life, or porn, or write you a wonderful piece of erotica, but I could’ve written anything about sex. I had the chance of pasting an essay I wrote from my Beat Generation course, just spice it up a little, even if I did get an A on it, I think it was primarily due to the fact that I actually was interested in my topic–Dr. Kinsey.

So what do I write about today? The news sucks. The only thing that comes to mind is that poor mayor who lost her job due to a “sexy” picture.  But that is old news already. Who cares?

I don’t have anything to write. “To Catch a Predator” Lawsuit? A former Texas  something or the other committed suicide after NBC crew and police officers surrounded his home, burst into his house because he failed to go meet the supposed child he was soliciting online.  That’s old news. Dateline, the pigs who love to have hardcore infatuation with the most disgusting of the grotesque, state that they acted lawfully. Read the Esquire article on it. My favorite line is when Lieutenant Barber looks into the camera and asks, “We having fun?”

Sorry, but that’s also not interesting to me either. What about those Obama pictures? Not worth my time to defame someone who I adore.

The McCain supporter calling Obama’s middle name twice during a speech to introduce the candidate?  McCain apologized for it and Cunningham now says that McCain threw him under the bus. Irresponsible Republican assholes don’t concern me either.

I suppose there isn’t a single thing to write about today. I suppose that’s all for me then.

I apparently, I use the term Liberal loosely

Watch this first.

It was posted by a friend of mine on Myspace. This “friend” wouldn’t let me add him unless I told him the flavor of liberal I am because everyone’s using the term loosely. I explained that I was for civil rights, but apparently that’s not enough. So now I’m left with the question, “How do I make my vote matter?” That’s easy, I vote for the person who makes sense to me. And that person just happens to be Barack  Obama, however, this makes me a liability to their far left (and what I normally call the crazies) ideal.

I never voted for anyone that wasn’t part of the two party system, chiefly because I live in Texas and it’s very rare for someone to run independently. Kinky was running for the governor the other year, and I would’ve voted for him until he said something that caught my ear–”Vote for the one that makes sense to you. Do what’s right, not what’s different.” It was as if he was asking us not to vote for him because he wasn’t a democrat or a republican, but because he was the right person for the job. What made him not the person for me was the border wall comment he made early in his campaign.

The remark changed the moment he went to the University of Texas-Pan American, which he said was only influenced by Jesse Ventura.  It was also possible because he was a Jewish Cowboy surrounded by a bunch of Hispanic Catholics–and as history notes, Hispanics aren’t fond of Cowboys and Catholics deny the Holocaust (yes, a generalization, but watch Mel Gibson, and you’ll see the masses think he’s the new messiah, or something).

So when Adam mentioned to me Senator Gravel’s campaign, I was interested in the man. Now Adam wasn’t trying to influence my vote; far be it for him to influence anyone into his beliefs because that’s his motto–”You only control yourself, and no one else.”

But when you bring out the guns that Al Gore lost the election fair and square, then I have to stand up and say something. Perhaps if Ralph Nader didn’t run for president that year, the turn out would have been different. Perhaps there wouldn’t be enough to steal the election, however, Ralph Nader did run and whether or not he’s the reason Gore lost is another question, one we’ll never know the answer to. Bush stole the election, that’s no secret. And Fox helped him. The second election, Bush once again stole it, but this time using fear. I feel horrible for the people who actually believe that the war in Iraq is about the war on terrorism, rather than the war of terrorism. You people need to open your eyes.

And the reason that I’m turning my head and suggesting that Obama is the right person is because he makes sense to me. Not because he’s “black,” but because he is different. I know, I know, they all seem different at first and I suppose you’re right. But the fact is, McCain, Huckabee and Clinton all seem wrong. Clinton because I’m not sure if I liked her, or if I liked the idea of Bill Clinton returning to the White House. Huckabee is another one of those zealot nut jobs that has Christian American sucking on his dick like a homosexual junkie (and I mean drug junkie, not an actual Homosexual junkie) in order to get their next fix, which I’m sure you zealots cannot deny.

But voting for Obama, apparently, strips me of my title liberal, because I’m voting the lesser of two evils. I’m sorry to say, but I’m voting for the greater of two people. If it’s a Barack Obama is running against John McCain, I’m voting for him, not because he’s a democrat (I like, McCain, by the way, and have been secretly hoping he’ll get the republican ticket), but because he’s a great man. Now if McCain and Clinton go at it, I’ll be a little uneasy because now I’ll have to really get down and research Clinton to be able to make a decision that is neither easy or swift.

I’m left; I’m liberal; I’m progressive; but, I’m realistic. Sure Ralph Nader might’ve made sense if he wasn’t such an attention whore and maybe Senator Gravel makes sense, but he doesn’t make sense to me. I want a person I can look up to and say I’m proud I voted for him, not because I want to keep my precious title as Liberal, but because I want to be myself. I want to be able to control my actions without feeling guilty with what I did. So if that doesn’t make a me a liberal, then fuck you for thinking that way; if anyone makes liberals ashamed is you fascist liberals who think you have total control over the rest of us.

Holiday Catholics *note, the word count is six hundred and sixty six for a reason

Abby spoke about them yesterday at the Sigma Tau Delta meeting. Had nothing to do with the meeting, but none of us were Catholic, so it doesn’t matter. It’s true, what she said though. Catholics–most, anyway–bitch about Lent every year, but don’t ever practice anything Catholic to begin with.

And it’s not just with Catholics–this goes for all religions. I’ve heard of Muslims who hate Jews solely because of that on going feud, yet, don’t practice their Islamic beliefs. Piety, it seems, is only in the mind of the nut job who thinks quitting meat on Fridays, or blowing themselves up for 70 virgins, is all relative. If that’s so, then a guy like me who doubts all things, must have a sure ticket to Heaven if I decided, in the final minutes of my life, to say, “Yes, I accept Jesus Christ as my lord and savior,” or, “Jihad!!!!”

But you have to understand where I’m coming from. I was raised Catholic, and my family is Catholic, for the most part, and they still have this silly notion that I’m still in someway affiliated with the church. I’m not, and I don’t seem me anywhere in the near future that I’m going back to the ranks of pedophiles and winos.

Just a side note with that remark, there have been pedophiles and child molesters reported in all branches of the religion, not just Catholicism. To say that Catholics must be wrong because their religious leaders touch little kids is just ludicrous and insane. They’re wrong for the same reasons the rest of them are wrong, and that’s the blatant lie that God is a for sure thing, that there should be no question or doubting his existence.

However, what captivates me about holiday Catholics is the fact that they rarely practice what they preach. One girl had the gall to attack a homosexual friend of mine about his sin. “Homosexuals are an abomination to God,” she declared, though I doubt she used those words, or even knew what abomination meant. Clearly unbeknownst to her was the obvious pregnant belly that jutted out in front of her.

Ask a Catholic why the go to church on Sundays, and the answer, more likely than not, will be that they must go to Church. Truth is, more than half of teenage to young adults who attend mass don’t really want to be there. Grace knows I didn’t. Most of my adolescent time (before leaving the religion during high school) was trying to cover up my obvious boner that I had for the young catholic girls. And for the most part, that’s why I went to church, to ogle the short skirts and the perfect round cheeks of peer-aged girls–not to mention the thirty-something women who wore tight dresses in order to gain God’s attention, or marry the single for life (though other books excluded from the Bible say otherwise) Christian figure known as Christ.

Now the generation before me, are still attending church, feeling unmotivated, but still continuing to damn those who refuse to follow the great words of the Pope (Spanish slang, well in South Texas: popé is shit caught within the underwear).

And now that Lent is underway, Catholic peers are dropping drinking beer, alcohol, sex, pornography–the epitomes of sin. I don’t pretend to know what I’m talking about when it comes to a generalization of Catholics, but the truth is, Catholics are at the bottom of the food chain because no one takes their religious beliefs serious. Most of the born again were derived from The Passion of the Christ, a historically incorrect, Mel Gibson vision of the death of a Buddhist follower who just happened to trick a bunch of people into thinking he was the son of a god.

The thing I find odd, however, is that while many catholics are now complaining that their beliefs suck, none of them decide to quit being Catholic for Lent’s duration.

Assurance

I’ve fallen sick. The tightness in my arm was too much for me to take. I went to the doctor and he gave me pills. So forgive me if I sound like I’m under the influence of something, but I am.

I have a few drafts of blogs saved here. “Reading in South Texas,” and “Holiday Catholics.” Apparently, I also have on entitled “In Response to Russ,” who made a comment on my first post here. It’s unlikely that one will make it to be posted.

I’m not sure what’s going to on with me. I took the pills and I’m drowsy. The doctor said it might be a muscle thing, so he prescribed me these muscle relaxers, but for all I know they’re placebos. However, they knocked me out of for an hour and I think I’m going back to bed soon. I have a blood test scheduled tomorrow, though I’m not really scheduled as it is strictly walk in and it’s only $25 to get. This just means, I’m getting a $275 discount.

I need to know if this is a serious thing or if I can let it go already and find something else to complain about. Every time I get the tightness, I begin to panic, which makes it worse. I’m not sure if it’s part of the symptoms of whatever I have, or if it’s my anxiety of something could be seriously wrong with me. Without insurance, I’m pretty much screwed with today’s bill and the follow up’s bill. I need a job and some cheap insurance.

Sorry, but that’s all I have for you guys.

Just thought I’d share this with you

If this doesn’t make you laugh and prove to you that Christians should be denied reproduction, then at least tell me why I’m wrong.

Worried

Again, I experienced a tightness in my left shoulder, armpit. It’s not like a heart attack–I’ve read the descriptions–but more like a stroke. A small stroke. I didn’t feel weird other than the tightening around the area and the scared feeling I get–the sudden rush of heat throughout my body when I begin to panic. After more research, it can also be caused by stress and anxiety. Cholesterol comes to mind, but last year, when I got my blood work done, I came out way below the average level. Doctor told me that I might be able to get it up, but I should at least try–apparently not only does high cholesterol cause–ahem–”man problems,” but so does low cholesterol. I guess I must suck up pride and call my father to see if he can spot me money for a doctor’s appointment. I need to check my blood and see if I’m dying.

After December’s Micturition syncope episode I’ve been a litte worried. It only happened once, but upon telling Abby and Jenn about it, they told me it can be linked to seizures (Abby, whose sister experienced it–I think) or a stroke (which Jenn linked me to a Mayo Clinic post). This just brings back those bad memories of thinking something was seriously wrong with me.

Back in October, or November, when Monica, Jyg and I went to Books ‘n’ Things, I got a tight feeling in my left arm after eating some bad soup. Last year was filled with papers, organizational duties (I was president of Sigma Tau Delta, Alpha Lambda Psi chapter) and I ignored it. I felt sick for a while, but books cure all for me. I’ve even been known to wander the bookstore with a fever.

But I didn’t experienced anything until I fainted. I walked over to the bathroom after being scared by Jyg, who managed to enter my room without sound and jumping on the bed. After our lovers’ conversation, I went to the bathroom to piss. While standing there, a sudden heat filled my body. I’ve felt it before when my body becomes shocked at my getting up too fast, so I passed it off as that. But then I started feeling really light, and my head moved back (actually, I think I did that on my own) feeling the warmth mix around my body. Next thing I know, I hear a crash and I wake up to see the piss-filled bowl before my eyes. The crash I heard was me falling onto the trash can. I wasn’t sure if I had dreamed it, but upon looking, I realized that it wasn’t at all.

I felt weak in the legs. I called out Jyg’s name and she didn’t bothered coming, or didn’t hear me. I shouted once more after managing to get up, my voice panicked and strained. She opened the bedroom door and saw me clutching the wall. I told her I had fainted. Before the incident, I had never once fainted in my life.

After that incident, in January, while walking in Kohls, I sudden felt this weird feeling. A heat wave rolling over my body and then a cold one. I recognized the changing sensation, coupled with my sudden realization of the my whereabouts, as feelings of a panic attack. Jyg and I quickly left the store and got in the car. The whole day, I had been feeling that something was awfully wrong. I couldn’t tell what.

And now today, the worse of what I felt all week, has hit me. Jyg felt bad, but I didn’t feel right telling her because I didn’t want her to worry about more things. I just need to go see a doctor’s. And while I’m not all that great with the money (as I have no job and no one seems to think I can do their work, or am over qualified for it), I also don’t have any insurance. I’m fucked, as far as I can tell.

Father came through to me when I was in the hospital after the car accident, and then for Jyg’s car part, so perhaps contacting him for money for a nice little trip to Dr. Let-met-tell-you-how-stupid-you-are. Man, I hate that fucker.

In other news, I’m reading Wonder Boys again.  It’s the first book I read by Michael Chabon–the second, and last, being The Mysteries of Pittsburgh–after I watched the movie and found out it was a book. And while I don’t like Michael Douglas, I think he did a great job as Grady Tripp.  I also own The Final Solution, but it didn’t do anything for me as those first two did.

After this book, I’m jumping into Lolita again.  I haven’t read that book in a while. I’ve got to keep my old brain ticking away before it loses all memory. I’m also dabbing into my ideas for the program I want to set up. With El Senor away, I’m afraid that it’ll be awhile before the wheels start turning.

For the moment, I’m learning how to write grants (the right way!) and getting some ideas for my next article so I can get some sort of monetary issues done with.

If any of you know of a gig I can write for, please sent it my way. We have to stick together, you know.

“Cannabis Gospel”

The article’s on its fifth draft. It’s almost finished, but I still need to weed out some of the words that made it lengthy. I’ve gone from 2000+ to just under 1300. I need to remove 200 words and then we’ve got the final draft. Hopefully, I didn’t take out anything important. I’m thinking of writing a similar one on Associated Content, but who knows.

The title took a change going from the working title “Vision Quest,” to the more humorist title “Cannabis Gospel.” I seriously don’t want the whole thing to make it sound like I’m promoting it. However, in many ways, I think I am. Not because I’m a stoner, because I haven’t touched cannabis since 2004 and I don’t plan to touch again, but because the world needs this. This country needs this. We need to remove all the clutter of bad emotional thoughts and have a new zeitgeist. No more blind faith. No more evangelicals on TV preaching for money.

Moving on: Nueva Onda Poets’ Society has been reinvented. And while founder Amado doesn’t call it that, those of us who were concocting without him thought it was a great idea. Now that he’s back in the scene, we’re happy.

Last night, however, didn’t turn out quite the way I wished it would. The scene was great, but Jyg wasn’t there. I’m afraid without her there supporting me, then I shouldn’t even bother. I know that’s pretty stupid to think but that’s the way I feel. She’s my balance, my rock. While some of you have religion, I have Jyg.

We were supposed to hold a memorial service to Raul Salinas, but  Amado said he’ll hold another one in actual memorial for him. Which is good because the Chicano Poet needs to to remembered. If not for the world to morn, then for us to.

Which brings me to my other topic. I uncovered an essay I wrote for my South Texas Writers course. I’m thinking of revamping it and posting it on Associated Content as well. I know I should try to do something bigger, but these writings should be free to the public and not kept inside a magazine that’ll cost and arm or a leg, or not in stock at your local bookstore. A printed copy may exist, but it’s doubtful.

However, I know how I want to start it off:

“Somos Chicanos. We are the those shoved in the corner and forgotten. We are the ones whose parents swam across the river, whose land was stolen, who has survived on broken promises.”

I’ll be sure to link it here when I’m done.