smoke so fine you'd swear it was air...

*clears throat*

  your attention, reader. lately, things have been what we would call a little drab, but with the help of my trusty laptop (macbook pro 13"), a wi-fi internet connection courtesy of my lil brother, Eric, and my ridiculously insane brain, plus plenty of time spent in the hospital on 5150 (dont ask me why, it's pointless; scarlett johansson's a joke if you ask me) and 5250, i think i may have managed to find a better purpose for my life.

  it all starts with writing. i love to write, which in turn leads me to love conversations i have with others. language is simple to me, and the symbols and gestures intended in convention with social behavior allow for my truest form to shine, which is that of a comic. however, because i presently find my self in absolutely less than desireable circumstances i'm comfortably miserable. i have the benefit of food and shelter provided by my family, but it comes at the cost of my personal liberty to roam. this is in essence the same arrangement i had in the hospital, only there i was racking up a bill which is to be covered by medi-cal. at least in the hospital i was afforded a simple friend, in this case her name was rebekah, who made me believe that every thing i was going through was for a reason. here at home i have an online friend, named selma, who attempts to help me, but whose assurances are now less credible after yesterday's events.

  to recap: i've been on a wild goose hunt searching for my friend nadiya kravets whom i believe is friends with scarlett johansson. the reason i know this is because i was smoking pot one night and was tapping into my emotions and stumbled upon a psychic network i did not know i could access. i came upon the whole thing because i was trying to prove einstein's theory of relativity, and i now believe that i have accomplished exactly that. i think the proof is in one's lack of observance of time, which in turn makes EVERY THING relative to one.

  in continued testing of einstein's theory i have inevitably wound up in the hospital every single time, having what would appear to be hallucinations, but which in reality are MY version of reality. as i've stated before, i have only ONE confirmed existence, and that is my own, so i constantly wonder why  supernatural powers (for lack of a better term) continue to lead me back to a certain address in san francisco. i distinctly remember that when i was in college the first time at san francisco state university, where i met nadiya, i dropped her off at said address and that's when i believe she put a love spell on me. if such things even exist are beyond me, because i will now use more of my efforts to resist said desire to return to the aforementioned address.

  i told my online friend selma, who assured me that if i returned they would open the door for me, that if they did not it was going to be my final effort. one simply has to draw the line somewhere. and with the exceptional lack of actual conversation between my self and nadiya, i think it would be healthiest if i simply let the issue go.

  could it be said that love possessed me some months ago to begin searching for her? but i never stopped loving her, ever since the moment i met her, and even now, it pains me to have to admit to my self that all of this has been in vain. scarlett johansson? how could i have been so stupid as to believe my own delusions? yes, i firmly believe that i ran into her outside of the dastardly address, because i saw her with my eyes, but the rest of the tale is as french, greek, or chinese to me as you would make sense of it. maybe it's russian? maybe it's "en español" but it certainly isnt written in a language i can understand. it certainly isnt being written by me, because i would never play such a foolish joke on my self

  i'm basically at the point where i'm biding my time. i made a final deal with my parents yesterday that if they allowed me to return to the goddamned address one last time, if/when i made it back i had to promise to drop the issue altogether. in exchange, i'm signing up for a residential center where i'll be able to begin trying to live a "normal" life. i'm miserable living at home where i feel like a caged animal whose civil liberties are left at the whim of people who truly have no idea what i'm all about.

  i'm a simple person. i live, i love, and i laugh. in between i try and put things together in my life which will lead to an overall run of success in order to create a comfortable future for my present; but my whole life i've felt burdened with the responsibility of family. to say this is to state the obvious, or so i am told, but i feel my burden is compounded by the unrealistic expectations which have been placed on me by my parents because we are immigrants. people hear stories of a magical country where you can become rich overnight and they buy it. the sad part is they believe in it so much they are blinded by the difficulties their children are going to have to encounter, especially with regards to the level of difficulty by which the parents attain their definition of success.

  my family has accomplished little in this country beyond establishing a small house cleaning business, but they have poured almost all of their finances into investments which have not paid dividends, and because they are ignorant (believe me, this is the appropriate word) that their CHILDREN are the greatest thing they could invest in, i end up being looked at like i have to make lemonade, but they refuse to even give me the lemons. it's not easy, my lot in life, and at the expense of sounding ungrateful, let me tell you: my life isnt as sweet as you would think, i just deal with it much better than most people, which earned me the title of "bi-polar". all of it means that i get refused to do the one thing which helps me to be social, active, artistic, and most importantly, happy, which is to smoke weed.

  yup, i said it, weed makes me happy. without it i'm not necessarily miserable, but the company sure could be better. it's a funny thing about drugs: you realize you're inevitably going to prescribed one or the other, so if you're a curios kid like me, you seek out your drug of choice and then find a way for someone to legally prescribe it to you, only along the way you learn that EVERY drug, except weed, was originally created by the pharmaceutical companies, or were controlled by them in order to maximize profits. and now they're finally getting back to the way things used to be, when people used to be able to smoke freely. take a moment to search for reasons why marijuana is illegal and you'll find the same logical conclusion: to punish the mexicans.

  the government has been trying to find a most profitable way to tax marijuana and it seems it might finally have come to realize that there isnt one. people can grow indoors privately and the government couldnt tax them. however, if they started to convince federally subsidized crop growers to start farming it they would be on to something, because marijuana is already the 3rd most popular recreational drug behind alcohol and tobacco. you dont think this country could use the money respectable stoners could provide it.

  for the record: the stereotype of a stoner needs to be redefined. i aim to do this when i FINALLY start doing stand up. consider it one of the top things on the agenda, because quite frankly this is all making me sick.

  anyway, pot makes people happy, and a dirty little secret about the medical profession is that every part of your health is related to your stress. the only reason people even go to the doctor is because we have been raised to believe they are the most important element of society. this is all a scam, people. insurance companies and the like are all running a game. the bankers control all of the money in this world and they decide how much any of it is worth.

  so to summarize einstein's theory of relativity according to me, edwin coreas, stop trying and the world will either begin to open doors for you, or someone will help you to get to that door. or in short, read "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" and pretend, do pretend that you are alice who falls asleep and is awakened by the white rabbit. make sense of the whole thing but remember that when you're done reading it your life will make a little more sense to you.

  the way i read it: i'm alice, the white rabbit is time and i'm slowly following his ass to the party with the mad hatter, but on the way i'm going to make sure to find a hookah smoking caterpillar (not in the original text, but in the 1951 film version) to invite as well. or maybe i'll just chill with the fucking caterpillar. hookah is fucking awesome, people, for those who have never smoked it. smoke so fine you'd swear it was air. i think i just made a tag line, i'd better write it down or remember it, or something, or maybe i could make it my subject line and it'll repeat itself, like in the matrix. ha ha ha.

  watch. the original subject line as i was writing this was "the interweb saves lives..." but then i changed it to "smoke so fine you'd swear it was air..." and i made a thought occur in your brain: i made you look.

  *sigh*

  i think it's time i gave my anonymous reader time to figure out just how miserable i feel right now, because words cannot describe and i'm tired of trying...

edwin