A bunch of Crap!

Tuesday

11:37 PM

I went to Pan Am’s recreation center to play basketball at about 8:15 PM. I realized how out of shape I am. Well, not like I didn’t already know. I actually just tried to modify my diet this Saturday but today just confirmed everything. My health is one of the things I don’t really think too much about yet; it is logically stupid of me to think that way. I’ve been reading Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky for my class in Dystopian Literature. I actually read it this past summer on my own but now I’m actually forced to do a more close reading of the text and I am also forced to listen to every idea my old ass professor has about the text. Anyway, my point about mentioning the book is that the Underground man or, the narrator, says that it is completely foolish for man to do anything that is harmful to him. He says that he knows this, and that it is wisdom he feels responsible to share or just do something about. He talks a lot about free will and the value of choice. The weight of responsibility that these choices have is overwhelming and that man, because of free will is going to rebel in one way or another. I caught the basketball behind the three point line. I put it on the floor and drove around with all my weight and spirit and jumped up to lay the basketball near the hoop. When I landed, my claves started to cramp up. Not only that, but my knee is jacked up. It’s been in pain for a month now. I had stopped playing ball, in hopes of it getting better. One month has passed and the pain remains. I am not going to go under any particular diet or exercise plan, out of spite. (Underground man reference) I am going to do my own thing and hopefully the pain on my knee goes away. It worked for Tim Duncan. Let’s see what happens.

On another note, I am taking four philosophy classes this semester. I am not a big fan of philosophy but it was the minor that I needed the least amount of classes for so I went for it. Well, three weeks in and I wish I would have chosen Border Studies or something else, but I will write more about that later. The damn library's computers are about to shut down. In a minute and some seconds. ahhhh, rebel.

11:43 PM

#DWC2013

Friday – 18

                I was in bed, scrolling down Instagram and twitter, avoiding the books, clothes, shoes, and toothbrush I needed to pack for the weekend. Time to pack for my third Winter Conference had finally arrived. I was excited to spend time with my UTPA team and couldn’t wait to get to San Antonio to spend time with the most genuine girl I’ve ever met, Stephanie! It was eleven and I needed to go by our good friend, Jocelyn’s house to pick up Stephanie’s abandoned guitar. I packed as fast as I could and headed to Jocelyn’s.

                When I got home, my parents were on their way to the Laundromat but I stopped them and told them I needed to be dropped off at Wal-Mart.  

                We arrived at Chili’s, we sat and got some waters. Stephanie stormed through the restaurant doors, high-fiving, hugging and making other hand gestures I am not even going to try to explain. I learned so much from Stephanie and I’ve never told her. I had met her on my first Destino Winter Conference. Back then, that was the most awkward bus ride ever. I hadn’t sat down with anyone to converse before the trip other than Jocelyn. Sure, I’d seen them before and had small talk with just about all of them, but they made me uncomfortable because I knew none of them knew my spatial boundaries. That conference, is a blurry gust, but I do remember being extremely anti-social with the people from my campus.

                When we got back home from that conference, I had class the next day. I went to my morning classes and came home for lunch and didn’t go back to school. Two days later I had the same schedule and I ran into Stephanie by the Student Union. We quickly talked about our schedules. We both had Algebra – same time, day and professor! We met and quizzed each other and tried to remember formulas. That class was crap but I got to know Steph.

I saw the way she supported her friends. I saw the way she stepped up with the movement. She continued to serve when every one of the old leaders were popping like melting balloons on summer fences. I saw how she encouraged both, hard work and rest. I saw her commitment to Crossfit. I saw her be the best lab attendant of Pan-Am.

We arrived a bit late and saw Pan-Am’s own Steven Silva killin’ it with SA staff, Anthony Lopez as MC.

I spent a few minutes meeting people with Jeff.  After being ignored, we sat down. People were approaching us now. There was a lamp separating me and a cool dude from Cali. When he asked about who I was, I instantly knew what to say.  I am a writer. I write to glorify god. We talked about the gift god gives us, and what makes a gift, a gift. We agreed that being good at it isn’t what makes it a gift. Delighting and enjoying something is what makes a gift, a gift. He was studying nursing. I walked away but he called me over to meet Betsy Jacob, one of the coolest girls from Florida! He said, “She’s a writer, he’s a writer. Betsy, Adan. Adan, Betsy. Gotta, go guys, see you guys around the conference.”

I sat down and we had about an hour long conversation about writing. Somehow it changed to singing. We then talked about singing. We saw Jules walk down the hall with her guitar but we never got up cause we were still talking about different things. When we decided to look for Jules, she was by the stairs but we didn’t know. So, we started singing at a different place. Emanuel heard us and came with his guitar. Then David joined us. We switched spots and Jules and her sister joined us.

I went to bed at about 3 but didn’t sleep a minute. One of my roommates was awake on his computer so I had a headphone stuck inside my ear. The only dream cloud that day came just before my alarm came on at 6 am.

Saturday – 19

                Randy and I had breakfast with Janet. She talked about all the old leaders she knew from Pan-Am.

We went to Rudy’s. All 350 of us at the conference went. I sat with the students from my campus, Brent Randy and Matt to my left and Cassie and Stephanie to my right. Further to the right were staff leaders from Colorado. I listened to them talk about the mountains, trees and their backyard. I listened while they conversed about a possible internship for Stephanie. Wow, I really want Steph to come back to the Valley and intern alongside Brent and possibly myself in the future but Colorado would be an epic journey for my friend.

                When we got back to the hotel, I went into a seminar about music. I understood nothing. Then, I learned about Art & Faith. I enjoyed being there. I was with Gabby from Pan Am and my new friend Betsy from Florida International University. I was with Artists. Alyssa from Cal. Singers, poets, painters… I could have been with them all weekend. The seminar speaker introduced internship and summer project opportunities, writing for four to five days in a studio, developing my craft, learning how to project truth in clever ways.

                10 minutes before midnight Jeff, Randy, Betsy and Jules went up for open-mic night. It was pretty frightening and cool.

Sunday – 20

Jeff’s Birthday/Evangelizing Day!

                On evangelizing day, I was partnered with Carlos from UT-Brownsville. Most of us from UTPA were going to UTSA. I was a little bitter. Everyone always goes to these emotional places and for 3 years in a row, I don’t.

                Carlos and I walked around UTSA and got turned down several times. We walked up to four High School students who were there for orchestra practice. They were in a 15 minute break. So I tried to be quick… we did end up telling them who the bible says Jesus is. By the end of Saturday I knew I wanted to be a part of some type of High School ministry. (CRU High School!) I enjoy all these slapdowns after I limit the Holy Spirit’s work. I don’t know how the lives of McTai, Niko, Taylor and Nicole have been touched. My future hasn’t been clearer.

Monday – 21

For so long I’ve debated in my mind that the American dream needs to be pursued. In one way or the other, I need to make money to support someone. But, I can’t think that way. I’m not American, I am part of the kingdom before anything. My responsibility to God comes before everything. Perhaps I am ambitionless when it comes to materialistic things and money but I am ambitious to be a tool for God. America can tell me I’m selfish all it wants. I know where my identity lies.

              I am not reckless.

I want to be a teacher and kick off CRU High School.

I want to do summer projects.

I want to intern part-time at Pan-Am.

I want to glorify God in everything I do.

Tuesday – 22

                Stephanie got a third offer to intern at yet another place! Anyone will be lucky to have her on their team. I want to persuade her to intern in the Valley but like I said, she’s taught me to support any decision my friends make.

 



Steady

For the most part, it is steady. But

January was wet and under forty degrees. The fortunate

Were beating themselves up for their failed resolutions. They

were beating themselves up because the rain and the cold carried misery.

They’d given up.

Those who don’t give up are real Mexicanos. They are

Undocumented jardineros who need to trim rosales before the

magic Valley begins to birth anything in its soil

They are faithful vendederos from the Pulga who stay in their cars because the market is empty.

Those who don’t give up is an old, white bearded negrito

                Who sits on an upside-down empty-five gallon-chapapote can in his shed.

Preaching to puddles that gurgle soda cans,

Preaching about an enslaved life he doesn’t wish to forget

because it will make the one to come much sweeter.

The trees and the grass here never lose color.

obscure?

"If a writer knows enough about what he is writing about, he may omit things that he knows. The dignity of movement of an iceberg is due to only one ninth of it being above water."

 

- Ernest Hemingway

POV

My blog. My framing.

 

Human life itself may be almost pure chaos, but the work of the artist — the only thing he's good for — is to take these handfuls of confusion and disparate things, things that seem to be irreconcilable, and put them together in a frame to give them some kind of shape and meaning. Even if it's only his view of a meaning. That's what he's for — to give his view of life.

 

-Katherine Anne Porter

identity

"To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting."

 

-e.e. cummings

No man for any considerable period can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.

-Nathaniel Hawthorne