no apologies for dissecting the word family...

  my only disclaimer, as usual, is that if you're reading this you have agreed to read my raw thoughts, which i edit at my leisure; no complaining or whining if you get offended.

  the question begs itself: what does family mean to you?

  because right now i'm fed up and frustrated by my immediate family, my family by name. i say by name because we share the same name, or at least they know me well enough to call me their family member in public. this post is intended to be about them, but i will give shout outs right now to every friend who considers me to be an extended member of their family. let me take care of mine right now for a minute and we'll touch base when a brotha is no longer inundated with stress by his blood. seriously, people, the hood nigga (tracy morgan said i can use the word, quit your bellyachin'!) in me is coming out tonight, so be prepared, as usual, for surprises, because this brotha is really upset, and the only thing which has ever helped me to feel better is to write and be myself while doing it.

  so appropriate that i consider every cultural expression to be a derivative of love, yet when i express this basic emotion to my immediate family members all they do is ask for more, without ever reciprocating it in the manner i feel is commensurate with the effort i put in. in short: i give way too much of my time and abilities to my family, and simply put, they do not deserve either anymore. i mean, for crying out loud, i thought family was supposed to support each other in their time of need. well, right now, after spending time in the hospital, and after following my own path, which led me to the hospital, all i'm asking for of my family is for them to listen to me. i get to decide what kind of help i need, not them. i get to decide what the exact causes were (stress, loving too much) which led me to the hospital, not them. it's preposterous just how ridiculously bad they're treating this situation. like, if i had the nerve to eat shit right now i'd pack a bag and go to a shelter in order to get away from the stress and lack of communication, but i'm not an ungrateful person, i'm just disappointed.

  sure, blast the folks online, where they probably wont access the information, right? ha ha ha, that's why this is my blog; i get to write whatever i want. the only reason i write about any of this is because writing is my release, and it sure beats wanting to smoke weed to "forget my troubles." i smoke weed because it is a form of medicine which helps me to focus my talents and abilities, and once i have enough money i am going to obtain a medical marijuana card. people have common misconceptions about me, but when you read something on this blog, you are getting the truth straight from the horses mouth. yes, i am a horse *whinny*, ha ha ha.

  to me, family is about giving each other time when we feel we'd rather be doing something else. it means helping someone whom you trust would do the same for you if you were in their position. however, since i'm a man of humble means and i have a terrible problem with asking for help, i never bother my friends with requests i feel immediate family members are better suited in filling. it doesnt seem reasonable to me that i should bother a friend with money when i know my own family members could fill the same basic needs, especially when they're the only ones to whom i've told everything. what makes the situation more pathetic is that i'm privy to all of the knowledge about them which makes me well qualified to ask them for help, because i know the answers to all of their problems, but do you think they listen? this is a 50-50, so you are guaranteed to get it right.

  simple answer: no. my family has made it a special event to essentially ask for and then ignore my advice, with their disrespectful answer being simply that if i know so much how come i dont have any money? yes, a slap in the face to this humble philosopher, but believe me i will no longer accept much of their speak as worthy for my ears. not that i intend to ignore them completely, i'm just going to simplify everything for them so they have less chances to deny me the basic care they purport to be providing me. if it can be said that i'm smarter than the average bear, which my family tells me and i believe, then shouldnt it follow they should be seen as valuable assistance rather than as pests? they're not booboo so much as the ranger (hooray for yogi bear fans!), and you guys know how much yogi loooved to get his hands on them picnic baskets.

  i am the same way. i'm trying to make enough money in order to survive living on my own while pursuing my dream of being a stand up comedian. sure, not exactly the glamorous life my mother envisions i can live if i go the traditional route, but couldnt any artist make the same complaint about their family? isnt that what i am, an artist? isnt the way i use words and art form, especially when they're used to make large groups of people to laugh, and subsequently to like me? how come none of my immediate family members gets this? how come they refuse to join me on my terms unless there's a built-in "carrot" to keep them entertained?

  so many stupid questions i ask when the answer is simple: leave it all behind.

  i made a commitment to myself when i was in the hospital that i would leave any person whom i deemed was creating stress in my life. this would refer specifically to my mother, whom i love more than any other woman on the planet, but whom lives in such a warped sense of reality that she'd rather ignore me and pretend it's doing me well than to meet what basic requests i've already made of her. denial is not only a river in egypt, as the joke goes. quite frankly, i should've made this decision years ago, if not weeks ago. maybe then i could've avoided the multiple trips to the hospital i made? maybe then i'd be sitting beside scarlett johansson right feeling like and believing that i am the luckiest guy in the world? instead, i'm sitting at home annoyed out of my mind that i fucked up the greatest entrance to an opening scene for any non-actor making their debut in this little movie i'm writing called "story of my life." you're going to love it, folks. scarlett's executive producing while i wear all of the other hats, like my favorite director of all time, woody allen, whom she made blush.

  believe me, people, if i'm delusional, then my delusions make waaay too much sense. i didnt consciously think all of this through, because if i had i would've known to drop my immediate family for a new family a long time ago. or in other words, i didnt know about my "special powers" until about a month ago, and in order to fully comprehend them i HAD to spend those 11 days in the hospital. i feel like my friends, nadiya and scarlett, wanted me to. it felt like they were thanking me for accepting being taken to the psych ward in order for me to better learn about my mental health and the conditions under which i am considered to be "suffering."

  my favorite is the diagnosis of bi-polar (true, which basically means "dont piss me off") with mania (seriously, the best feeling in the world) and some psychotic episodes (what happens when you piss me off. implied: i dont get upset unless others make me). people, when we break down the equation all the diagnosis means is that i have a condition, of which i am now fully aware, but it didnt have to get to the point where i was hospitalised for it. i admitted myself into the hospital and they put me in triage, but "someone" thought i should go to the psych ward at langley-porter, so i trusted their good advice and went along with it, even putting on a smiley face when my appeal to be released after three days was denied. i found the silver lining and said "someone is trying to tell me something" and just muscled through it, and i was almost rewarded by the night nurse *wink* on my final night there, had i simply stayed conscious instead of falling back asleep.

  what does all of this mean? i'm willing to play by the rules others create, but i am constantly asking myself: when do i get to be in charge? when will others begin to understand that the ideas i give are worth more than the perception people receiving said ideas have of me? i am not an idiot, i just play the role really well, because i always focus on wanting to help others to be happy instead of just being selfish and hogging the spotlight all to myself. it's why when i was in the middle of one of my "delusions" i was confused that someone should ask me to leave my "old" things behind in favor of "new" ones. why can't people be more direct and specific with their requests? and isnt it better to have certain conversations with someone face-to-face, regardless of your identity? regardless of your perceived value to society? a philosopher sees everyone as being the same: worthy of being educated and to be learned from. we dont draw lines between "upper" and "lower" society. when i speak, i expect others to listen to me and to meet me halfway, be they celebrities, doctors, or *gulp* family members.

  again...all of this has turned into a rant, but considering the way i've been feeling the past week, it's much needed.

  i was practicing learning to prove einstein and i built in a safety net that once everyone started to treat me like i was crazy i would know i was succeeding. well, we've reached the point that pretty much every member of my immediate family thinks i'm crazy and is basically being nice to me in order to not piss me off. i would say we're getting there, but i'm disappointed because i thought that by playing the game according to the rules given to me i would be rewarded. turns out i was disappointed by the pair of women whom i consider to be the most beautiful in the world.

  so recap: can't count on mom and had heart broken by the two women i believed were guiding me "home." where does that leave me? releasing my inner self and letting my inner light shine, like zion i taught me years ago (met zumbi and he is a cool motherfucker). do you want to know who i looked like to my cousin rick, on that fateful evening when i saw my inner light for the first time? he said i looked like scarlett johansson and all i saw when i looked at my reflection was my self. i'm not kidding you, but i'll have a difficult time getting rick to talk about it. i mean, he told me it hurt him a lot when i got taken away to the hospital the FIRST time, i can't even imagine how the poor kid felt when i got taken away a SECOND time and then stayed, voluntarily, for 11 days. he said to me "cuz, i didnt want to believe you were crazy, because i know you're not". practically broke me down to tears. he's a valued family member and all he wants is to see me happy with whom i told him he would soon see me (because i believed i was going to meet her via nadiya that night): scarlett johansson.

  *laughs out loud*

  *sigh*

  if i didnt live the experiences my self, i too would think i was crazy. believe me, people. once we start asking the heavy hitting questions about HOW i ended up at the hospital the answers begin to perplex. wait a minute, how do i KNOW where to find scarlett johansson? doesnt she live in hollywood? how is she connected to my friend nadiya, and how would i know that they were connected somehow to begin with?

  go ahead, folks, try and find the lie amongst the truth i've offered. ask me the questions you believe i havent answered in order to prove me wrong and i swear i'll go back on my medication believing it is the best thing in the world for me. the worst part was that i had an appointment to get my medical marijuana (the only real medicine, no respect to pharmaceuticals) card the week i was first placed into the hospital, courtesy of, you guessed it, scarlett johansson. i couldnt keep it and i subsequently ended up missing my appointment to donate blood, too, which means i let down a different group of people altogether because i was trying to satisfy the two most beautiful women in the world, as decided by me, thank you.

  *laughs again*

  as the song says nearing the end of "inner light" ... "this aint a game this is life." and i'm writing my life, so only i remember all of the fine details; only i know the sound of my own voice better than anyone, regardless of those who have access to my innermost thoughts. only i know when i'm being sarcastic or sincere, and it is the inability of others to trust me blindly as they have asked for me to do which has led directly to my gross dissatisfaction. i thought someone told me to my face that they thought they loved me? i thought i was playing a game where i would be declared the winner based on my ability to follow the rules of others.

  it would appear the joke is on me, folks. especially as it stands with regards to the F word which everyone uses but very few people respect: family. i can now publicly say fuck in public and correct anyone who would claim that i was being rude (go along with me, it's a joke). the word family is more misused and used to abuse than the word fuck (an homage to mr carlin). if i say fuck in the right context, i WILL get your attention. meaning, fuck, i want to fuck, but fuck, there's no one to fuck. no problem with the context there, but i can make the whole room cringe in collective disgust if i mention the word family.

  why do you think people both love and hate the holiday season? because everyone wants to put on a smiley face for their family even though it makes them uncomfortable to sit through painfully awkward conversations? do you want to know who i am in this example? i'm the ho-hum optimist who always has something nice to say about my family, even though i know they're the reason for a lot of my stress. you dont find many guys like me, and my personal stories are interesting, even if i hold a menial job. i can make the most uninteresting thing interesting, and i credit my self for having learned to do this on my own.

  it's a question i often ask my family, but they never care for the answer: how come i am generally well liked by others? i've come to discover that this is the greatest gift i possess, and i'm going to make sure it pays me before i die. i will see my pound of flesh, as it was promised to me by me. i'm no no longer going to concern my self with the promises which were made to me, because i forgot my own rule: no promises made, none accepted. the moment i went against my built in safety nets was when trouble began to brew, because i believed my honest fear was easy to understand. apparently, i was wrong. it seemed perhaps someone was more interested in removing from me something which i never asked for (their breath), so now i will focus and vow to satisfy the only person who has been present every step of the way: my self.

  i write the word self separately because it was proven to be separate by psychologists. freud introduced the concept, which was revolutionary for its time and remains as such to this day. people take so much shit for granted that they forget to thank their selves. i will no longer make this mistake. i cant afford to, because every time i follow someone else's rules i end up getting fucked (how else do you describe 11 days in the hospital when you were on the door step of your happiness). all i know is that someone owes me an apology, which they've avoided giving to me because for some reason they thought i should "pay" for making their life inconvenient for what seemed like an instant.

  *shakes head*

  the tone is all wrong, it's going to be easy for someone to misinterpret my good intentions...wait a minute, who cares?! this is my blog, remember? ha ha ha. people worry about the tone never understanding that it reveals their insecurities. sometimes nice things are said at high pitches, live with it. it's why you have to know what yelling sounds like and the reasons behind such behavior in order to understand people, but someone, to whom privileges were given before a certain age would fail to understand this. someone, to whom beauty is an empowerment and not a humbling quality, would fail to make sense of the hoi polloi (common people).

  i took the road less traveled in order to return to the starting point of my choosing. i put my self through the muck on purpose, because i knew that when i finally made it back to the point from where i wanted to start writing my life, everything would make sense to me. i purposely designed my life's story as a solo journey, and i'm purposely writing all of this down for all of you to share in the experience. and since it is easy to remain anonymous, i want to thank all of you who have held bit parts and starring roles all of these years.

  i especially want to thank everyone who has read every word of this blog, and of the previous incarnations as well. i have written countless words to express my unhappiness and dissatisfaction, but seldom have i openly shared the joy which i have found in my life. well, the joy is minimal at best right now, but it has been plentiful in the past, so i am simply saying that i want to return to those times in the future. i am going to make my life the happiest it has never been, and i will begin by focusing on my self first. i will stop wondering about psychic communication for the time being because it is my belief that i need a time out. who knows what the voices i no longer hear would say, but i have a sneaky suspicion they want me to leave them alone. how else can i explain the events of the past couple of weeks? it's possible i inadvertantly stumbled unto the most secret of secret societies and i never even knew i was an invited guest. well, if anyone wants to see me, they know my address, it's public.

  i'm going back to mine. i'm going back to understanding cultural expression better than other person alive, and this time i'm going to make sure i get paid up front. that was the sucker version of me you met before. no more free services, the bartering system is back in effect. because when you're down and you think you're asking for help, you will also come to realize what the streets (a group) were saying on their album "a grand dont come for free": it was supposed to be so easy. i did everything that was asked of me and received nothing, so now i will follow my own happiness and begin to reap the rewards and benefits of which i am truly deserving.

  i've applied for some jobs and will pull one down shortly and will go fast-forward with my plan of becoming a paid comedian. good comedians get considered for movie roles. successful movie stars comingle with others as such, and so, it should follow that if i dream my biggest dream and believe in my self more than i ever have in my life, one day i will be able to meet scarlett johansson "the old fashioned way" and then i can ignore her and say, with all honesty, she had her chance to meet me years ago, but she was always afraid to meet me in-person.

  the level of detachment required for anyone to believe my delusions is unimaginable, because it is required that you be able to imagine infinite possibilities before you will be qualified to find my plane. and that's a joke as well, because when i fly, i fly alone. there isnt a woman alive whom i now consider to be worthy of co-pilot status. in fact, the only person who ever made the best co-pilot was my homeboy, mike nielsen, whom i consider to be my lifetime agent, held on a pro buono status, becaue i told him that when i finally called on him it would be because my wildest dreams were going to come true. believe me, that nigga has been with me through everything, and i can only imagine how much it has torn him up to know that i was in the hospital and he couldnt do a goddamn thing because he's busy chasing his dream. oh wait, i told him not to worry about me and i ended up in the hospital.

  *heavy sigh*

  i guess no matter how i try to put the finishing touches on this post it's going to end nasty. just remember that i'm very frustrated right now. imagine how you would feel if you felt like every person who asked you to respond to their basic questions refused to see your answers from your perspective. then imagine that you're someone who is typically counted on to keep things light and humorous, because every one loves your sense of humor. how alone would you feel in this world if you felt like your voice was completely misunderstood? where would you turn when you discovered your family cannot be counted on to take care of you the way they claimed they would your entire life? what would you meditate on in order to calm your self if you realized the only reliable thing in your life is your brain? as i jokingly tell my self while pointing to my head "that's my nigga brain right there, he's been with me through every thing." ha ha ha.

  *sigh*

  i think i can sleep now. i think i'm satisfied now. writing therapy has succeeded yet again. and to think of what i will be capable once all of my abilities have returned. then i will really seem delusional, because i will believe to have nothing which will enable me to receive everything. all of the greatest teachers were trying to teach the world some basic things, and i will continue my life's work in their breath. i will help to teach the world to laugh at its self, and goddamn if i dont turn it into a profitable venture. because i told my self that my ultimate life's ambition would be to make my self the most famous person from el salvador, which would elevate me into the pantheon of latino's in history.

  this is how i choose to measure my self, and i believed that i could accomplish this goal with the help of my immediate family. how wrong i was, but i also told my self that 27 was the critical age when i had to stop fucking around. why 27? think of how many famous rock stars died at 27? jim morrison, jimi hendrix, janis joplin, curt cobain...greatness which has stood the test of time. and doesnt everyone wish to be treated like a rock star? i've been told i carry myself like a movie star, and that made me blush. damn drugs made me gain 15lbs, so i have to work at taking it off again, but, because i know how to do it, it wont be so hard.

  for every problem there is a solution, and only i know all of the answers to my life. help and assistance are appreciated, but what i had to learn in the hospital was to be assertive. i intend to do just that.

  as i wrote on my facebook page:

  no more moping, if you dont like what i say or do, leave me alone. i am not interested in dissenting opinions, i want constructive critics, not jealousy. your fear is not my own; i can imagine infinite possibilities, so aide me if you care for me, dont get in my way...

'nuff said,

edwin