My Life: Latino Perspective Song Review

Best way for retaliation, beat them at their own game

Standing at the mountain top, scream it loud and proclaim

I am proud of my culture and my heritage

God’s gift, I am Mexican American!

Leon B, a new artist from Orange County, California, just released a song called Latino Perspective. In it, he sends a rally cry for all Latinos across the nation to unite, proclaim their heritage, and be proud of it. At a time where most artist are rap about getting money and being on drugs, it’s refreshing to hear an honest  take on the climate of today’s Latin community. Leon B urges those in his community to take a look at themselves and realize that there’s no limit to what they can contribute to society. With an old-school beat and honest lyrics, Latino Perspective sends a powerful message and gives us a glimpse into the music of Leon B.

 

Click the link to hear the full version of Latino Perspective

Also, subscribe and follow Leon B at:

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCKG47Qj5YKuOlBxF4O_j5Rg

Twitter: https://twitter.com/whoisleon_b

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/whoisleon_b/

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My Life: Please Don’t Judge My Weirdness

I made it to Post #25 ya’ll!

Instead of writing something new, I thought of going back to the past. When I first started this blog and writing random posts. These posts were more simple and short. Kind of like me. They were before I had an audience who seemed to care about my life. Before I started writing more meaningful and longer posts. Not that there is anything wrong with that (Seinfeld reference). But I think it is fun to look back and read all of my randomness. So here are a few of my favorite posts that just didn’t garner much views. I hope you give them a try. And please, don’t judge my weirdness! 😛

My Life Through Daft Punk: All Time Views: 22

I guess people just don’t like the French. Haha. Just kidding of course. This post was inspired when I was going through a rough breakdown in the summer of 2013 and the only thing that seemed to help was listening to a song titled, “Fresh” by Daft Punk. The post describes the images that go through my head when I hear that song. I will admit that the writing is a bit choppy, but I was just starting to write! Geeze, I said not to judge. Anyways, if you like Daft Punk and pictures of the beach, you will definitely like this post.

https://eddybcruz.wordpress.com/2013/07/31/my-life-through-daft-punk/

My Life In Story: All Time Views: 46

Okay now, I’m quite proud of this post right here. Not because I spent a month putting pieces of my interests together, but because the finished story feels perfect to me. I think this was when I decided that writing could be…like you know…fun! I hope you can spot all the references.

Music: Daft Punk, LCD Soundsystem, No Doubt. Deadmu5, Les Miserables. Macklemore & Ryan Lewis Books: The Catcher In The Rye, The Virgin Suicides, The Perks Of Being A Wallflower, Fun Home. T.V. Shows: Arrested Development, HIMYM Movies: The Dark Knight, The Matrix, Up. Places: San Francisco, Orange County, LA.

https://eddybcruz.wordpress.com/2013/08/01/my-life-in-story/

My Life Through My Thoughts: All Time Views: 44

This post gives you some insight into what I thought about when I was younger. The post reads more like a diary entry, but I like the fact that it also let’s you know what I was thinking about before I had a breakdown. It’s short and honest.

https://eddybcruz.wordpress.com/2013/07/22/my-life-through-my-thoughts/

BONUS: The First Relationship Of My Life: All Time Views: 62

Okay, I have no idea why this post didn’t get many views. This was the start of when I started to write long and meaningful stories. And to be honest, this was a deeper reveal into my personal life. This post tells the story of when I was young and in love (as cheesy as it sounds). If you ever wanted to know about my relationships, then this will definitely give you a glimpse.

https://eddybcruz.wordpress.com/2013/07/27/the-first-relationship-of-my-life/

Anyways, I hope you give these posts a try and enjoy reading them as much as I loved writing them. Until next time my fellow bloggers. Let’s see what Post #50 brings.

My Life: The Cousin I Almost Lost

I love my cousins. All of them.

Growing up, my older brothers and I were complete opposites. They were social, fun, and rebellious while I was shy, boring, and compliant. So much in fact, that my aunts and uncles would ask me to baby sit my cousins while they went out to run errands. I didn’t mind. I was happy that someone trusted me enough to let me take care of their children. I made sure my cousins watched appropriate shows on T.V., ate enough food, and stayed out of trouble. I was only five years older, but I felt like an adult. They would tell me when they were having a bad day and I would try my best to let them know that everything would be okay. I made sure they felt protected under my watch. I was with them during the good times and the bad. They became the brothers that I never had as a child. They grew into responsible teenagers in front of my eyes, and that’s something I’m very proud of witnessing.

But this post is dedicated to a very special cousin of mine. Miguel.

Ever since I can remember, this cousin of mine has had a very difficult life. His mom passed away when he was around eight years old. I remember that day. And how everyone in my house cried. And mourned. And cried some more. I can’t imagine the feeling of losing a mother. But he continued on. He got retained from the third grade because he stayed a little longer in Mexico for his mother’s funeral. He had to make new friends and watched his other cousins celebrate school achievements a year ahead of him. Although he always struggled with school, he kept on trying. At the age of fifteen, his dad got deported back to Mexico. I can’t imagine what was going through his head when he found out, but again he kept going. He kept going after his two surgeries for his bad ankles, when he stayed in the hospital for weeks because he was malnourished, or when people constantly teased him because they never considered to be smart.

I doubt he even cares. See, my cousin has family that loves him. And I think that’s what keeps him going. During family events he shares his stories and tells jokes that make everybody in the room laugh. He is as care free as can be and everyone loves him. So we were surprised when we heard what happened a few months ago.

I was with my best friend in San Francisco when my little brother called me. I thought it was strange. My brother never called me. He asked if I was sitting down and I assured him that I was. His voice sounded different. As if he had just finished crying. He told me that he didn’t want to worry me, but that he was at the hospital with the family. I was confused, so I asked what was wrong. He didn’t say anything. He began crying. I had never heard my little brother cry so hard before. It was painful. Again, I asked what was wrong. A few seconds went by then I heard him say, “they shot Miguel.” I don’t remember much after that. I remember my best friend walking me out to the car because I couldn’t stop crying. I remember talking to my family on my phone, asking how my cousin was doing, and crying some more. I remember crying myself to sleep around three in the morning.

I went to visit him when I returned from San Francisco around midnight. There were around ten or so people in the room visiting him. My cousins said that the night before around twenty people showed up. He was lying there on his bed. He couldn’t talk and he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. Finally, he looked up and saw me. I didn’t know what to say to him. He stared, smiled, and gave me a thumps up. I tried my best not to cry. I smiled and gave a thumps up as well.

The doctor told us the bullet hit near his spine. A few centimeters in a different direction and my cousin could have been paralyzed.

Over the next few weeks, my family visited him at the hospital. A few of my cousins slept over on their days off work. He was able to go home three weeks later, but had a hard time walking and talking. He lost fifteen pounds from all the surgeries and had to drop out of school for the semester. He stopped working also. His life completely changed, but his personality stayed the same.

A few weeks ago, I took him out to eat. He couldn’t remember getting shot, but he did remember waking up in the hospital and seeing his family. He was thankful and happy to see us. We continued talking about life and his future. And all of a sudden I saw him as the five year old kid that I used to baby sit. And just like that, I was taking care of him again. And I realized just how short our lives can really be.

Like always, he keeps telling us jokes, makes us laugh, and continues to smile through every obstacle. I really don’t know how he does it. He’s got the spirit of a champ. But I guess that’s something nobody can take away from him.

 

Life: Getting Myself Tested For HIV

I want you to know that I hate clinics. And pills.

A couple weeks ago, a person I had previously hooked up with contacted me to say he was HIV positive. I stood there quietly as I reread his text. I was shocked and didn’t know how to feel. I asked him when he found out and if I should be worried. He told me he had been positive for 6 months, but that he was undetectable now. He kept on insisting that we should sex again and to forget about using condoms. I stopped listening. He continued going on about how condoms burn him, make him break out, and how much he loved bareback sex. I just hung up. But I didn’t mean to be rude. He chose to engage in high risk behaviors and became HIV positive. I chose not to have sex with him again.

I walked into the clinic early in the morning the next day. I gave the receptionist my personal information and told her that I had been to this particular clinic before. She smiled and told me to wait in the lobby until I was called. I took a seat and saw a couple holding hands in front of me. They were watching T.V. and occasionally the guy would burst out laughing. I smiled. They were a cute couple. On the left of me was a girl who looked no more than 20 years old. She stared at the T.V., but never laughed. Not even during the funny parts. I continued watching T.V. until the nurse called my name.

I walked into the other room and knew the procedure. I took everything out of my pockets and got weighed. I had lost four pounds. The nurse gave me a small container to pee in and told me go inside the bathroom. I took a pee, left the container inside, washed my hands, and stared at myself in the mirror. I stood there for a few minutes. Then I began to cry. I don’t know why. After, I washed my face, walked to another room, and waited for the doctor.

She was petite and had a friendly smile. She asked the usual questions: Are you on any type of medication? Are you experiencing any type of symptoms? How many sex partners have you had since your last check up? I told her that I was not on any type of medication and I didn’t know what were symptoms of HIV. She started explaining a few symptoms and I just nodded. I really just wanted to leave. She then asked how many sex partners I had in the last year and suddenly I became sad. I told her I didn’t know. It was a pretty rough year for me. She told me to make an estimate, so I did. I had never lied to a doctor before. She made a note, walked toward the door, and said the nurse would be there shortly to take my blood.

I waited quietly for the nurse. She walked inside and told me to extend my right arm so she could take my blood. I did as I was told and looked the other way. I didn’t want to see her or the needle. I had always been afraid of seeing blood. As, I sat there staring at the wall, I thought about the first time I got tested and how scary the experience had been. I thought about the time I found out I had gonorrhea and the embarrassment I felt telling my partners. I thought about how much I hated taking the pill to get rid of it. I thought about how I could recall the number of sex partners a few years earlier and how I now couldn’t. I then felt a sharp pain on my arm. I never was used to the needle. The nurse told me it would be over soon. I said okay and continued looking at the wall. Time had never moved more slowly in my life.

Once done, the nurse gave me condoms and told me to check out in the front. I walked to the receptionist and she said that the clinic would call if the results showed anything positive. I thanked her and quickly walked to my car. I sat there and looked at the bandage that the nurse put on my arm and touched it lightly. The pain was gone. There was nothing I could do now, but wait to get my results. And for a small moment, everything seemed alright. I started the car, hid the bag of condoms in the glove compartment, and drove home.

My Short Poem About Life

I don’t think anybody really knew me. But then again, I hardly think anyone really cared. This is a poem of my short  life. And by the time you read this. It will probably be too late. But I really did try. Here is my poem:

“They thought he was a joke. So they laughed.

They thought he never replied. So they left.

Maybe it was all for the best.

He lived another day. No matter how hard he resisted.

He lost everything. Even happiness left.

He should have hugged it one last time.

No one knew why he never returned.”

Hard to believe. But perhaps my life was meant to be short.

“No flowers, no funeral, no nothing.”

 

UPDATE: I would first like to thank all of you for the supportive comments. I did not expect much of anything when I published this post. I truly apologize for making people worry about my life. That was not my intention. I really didn’t think anyone cared. I was just feeling pretty lousy with life. I do want to say, that what I published yesterday was how I felt at some point in my life, so I don’t want to dismiss those feelings of sadness, isolation, and rejection. Funny, after I published my post, my best friend sent me a message. She doesn’t know about my blog, but she finally wanted to talk with me. And that was enough for me to keep going. I decided to change the format and the post out of convenience for everyone. Once again, thank you for being there for me. I really do appreciate the support and lovely comments. Thank you.

– Eddy

The Night My Life Changed: An Introduction

So it began. The night that turned everything in my life around. I don’t know how it happened, but in some strange way, I kind of anticipated it. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s the kind of feeling you get when you’re walking home on a quiet night after a long day of doing good and you suddenly stop, look at the stars, and you can’t help but smile. Or when you’re wandering around a big city during the peak hours of the day and you can’t help but feel like you belong. You feel good and anticipate more. I was once told that in life, the things that make an impact in our lives will randomly come. They will hit hard. And maybe, just maybe, they will last a life time. I’m sorry to say that this event didn’t last a life time.

Ten days earlier, I had spent my 21st birthday alone in my room. I don’t know why. I had a lot to celebrate. I was going  to graduate with my AA degree in a few days, move to San Francisco in a few months, and live the college life for two whole years. But none of that mattered. My birthday hadn’t meant anything to anyone in such a long time. I wished myself a happy birthday and continued on with my life.

The impact of being 21 wouldn’t register until months later, for now, I was back to my daily routine of finding potential friends online. For every ten messages I sent, I would get a reply from one or two guys. The rejection was brutally painful and the process dangerously lonely.

To be honest, I had no idea of who I would talk to that night. I was only trying to cure my boredom. It’s surprising how a single message could change your life, but that’s what happened. I mean, I didn’t know it in that instance. And I guess that’s what made his appearance into my life that more special.

My Complicated Life (A Satire)

I complicate my life too much. Honestly.

I don’t mean to make things complicated. Things just turn out that way.

If I wasn’t so reluctant to publicize my life to friends and family, I would have updated my relationship status to “It’s complicated.” My 2 year on-and-off relationship would have ended the day after my ex and I met for sex, but it didn’t. Instead I chose to seek him, love him, lose him, seek him again, fight for his love, lose interest in him, have him seek me, regain interest in him, love him again, lose him again, and complicate my life even further. I had it all wrong. I thought drama sought me, but I seem to seek drama.

All my life I wanted to be spontaneous and fun, or at least have an exciting life, but this fantasy just complicates my life. Fun and spontaneous means going to random clubs and drinking until I black out, but mix in my sexual provocative behavior (grabbing and kissing random strangers) and you will have a story to tell during our sober interactions. I will then assure you that I am not a wild party animal because…I really am not. I just don’t know other ways I can be fun and spontaneous. I complicate my life without knowing just how complicated I make it. You see, I have mistaken drama with fun and that always complicates things.

And if you want to start a relationship with me, I will convince you that I am not ready to start dating but get angry when you don’t want to date me. Heck, I will even tell you that I am not looking for sex, but I will have naked pictures ready and be fine if you ask to have sex with me. I’m not complicated. I just make things complicated.

Want to be my friend? I hope not. You will have to text me at least once a week or I will get angry at you for not replying. I may even forget about you. But I will tell you that you shouldn’t get mad at me when I don’t text you because “I was just too busy.” I will treat you as if you and I were in a relationship because being in a real relationship is just too hard for me right now. Instead, I will complicate our friendship.

My complicated behavior isn’t limited to friends and boyfriends. Nope. If you’re a family member, I will love you from a distance because that’s how we always did it. I will make an appearance during big holidays or special events in our lives, but I’ll be on my own most of the time. I will say I’m happy even though I know that you know I am not. I won’t be completely honest with my feelings or my relationship because you just aren’t ready to hear my truth.

My truth: My first relationship fucked me over. I have trust issues now. I seek attention from guys. I fear yet want a relationship. I sometimes distance myself from my friends because getting too close to someone can go wrong. My fear of disappointing my family over my sexuality keeps me from being completely honest with them. They won’t be able to understand me.

Dang, I honestly complicate my life too much.