the · greatest.

I'm practically sprinting to hell.

I know I'm a bad guy... sometimes. I know this. Luis is well aware of his faults to be a compassionate human being. I think it's because I don't subscribe to the WWJD philosophy. Why would I? I'm an American man. I like freedom and I love options. But on the religious decision making front we don't have many options. Which sucks because I'm not even religious...

Thus I created and opted to subscribe to the WWMPD (What Would Michael Phelps Do?) philosophy. (A LIVEJOURNAL WORLD EXCLUSIVE.) Which oddly enough pans out for me because I'm on World Record pace to V.I.P. with Lucifer & Bernie Mac in the bowels of hell. That's right kids! Check it- I am on pace to out-Tommy Lee... Tommy Lee (but without all the boring 3some's or heroine/meth combinations.) I know what you're about to say... Luis this is kind of a disappointing philosophy but then again so is the I'm Going To Sleep With As Many People As I Possibly Can, Kill A Couple Of Brain Cells Along The Way And Hope I'm Not Jaded Enough To Fall In Love With Someone Down The Line philosophy that so many of my friends subscribe to. I don't mean to offended anyone but if I did- keep crying motheerucker you can always eHarmony.com your tears.

I really don't have much to say about Michael Phelps 8 Gold Medals except that the guy truly is uniting America. A NATION UNITED-for Phelps 8 Gold Medals. Remember that one time Mark Spitz changed the world with his 7 Gold Medals. NO? I guess history overlooked that part. Which is odd because most of America overlooked what was happening in Georgia and focused on Phelps... because 8 Gold Medals and His Giant BULGE... well I'm speechless. So in summation Fuck You Georgia (Both of them) and God Bless Michael Phelps.

I don't understand why Obama isn't wearing a Phelps lapel pin over his heart- that nazi anti-american traitor.

Ice Road Truckers.
I don't think I need to explain myself. Truckers on Iced Roads. WOW. Sometimes you just need to ask yourself 'Why do I even bother getting out of bed in the morning?' Then I realize holy shit, if this trucker
is risking his life for his family and TV ratings, then I can most certainly get out of my bed and make it to my 8 am class.

"From which proceeds the niggardly lip service which engages in only the tiniest part of the body..." [page 881]
The Laugh of the Medusa Signs, Vol. 1, No. 4. (Summer, 1976)
Helene Cixous, Keith Cohen, Paula Cohen

AMAZING.

don't let'em hold you down,
reach for the stars.
-notorious b.i.g.

I've been doing a lot of thinking these days, particularly about my childhood. I'm quite proud of what I've become, how far I've come along and what the future may or may not hold. I could never really say that before, partly because I never really cared. I had to be cold, distant, nothing was ever certain, nothing was ever given, nothing came easy and I had to sacrifice every single day to get here.

Sometimes it kills me that I'm not home taking care of my sisters, looking after mother, and giving advice to my step dad. As long as I can remember I've been forced to make decisions for the family, maybe it was because my mother was young and I seemed very intelligent and mature at my age. Maybe it was because she had no one else to turn to, correction, we had no one else to count on. In this way I was thrust into adulthood. This may explain why i act childish sometimes now, because I never had that all-american childhood. When we didn't have money to pay rent I was told, when we didn't have food I was well aware, when domestic problems occurred I was at the forefront, when Christmas came around and I didn't receive a gift I knew why, when my step dad wouldn't come home for a weekend I knew what he did, when my mother was too hurt I was the one that comforted her and protected my sisters.

But I always thought in terms of my sisters. Always. Their love was the only thing I could always rely on, to the world I was a poor El Salvadoran child whose mother came over on the back of a wagon, but to my sisters I was the world. I did well in school, stayed away from drugs, bought them things, devoted all of my attention to them because I wanted to be the perfect role model to them. The role model that I lacked growing up. Now I'm at Berkeley, my family has money, my mother can afford everything she had been denied before, my step dad has flourished into the type of father I'd love to be and my sisters are all beautiful, intelligent, independent women. It's all i could really ask for, it's precisely why we sacrificed all those years, and why my family came to America.

nothing else really matters...



nothing...
nothing
nothing
nothing.