Gender: Male
Status: Single
Age: 28
Sign: Leo
City: MIAMI
State: Florida
Country: US
Signup Date:
11/04/04
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Wednesday, August 01, 2007
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Happy Ric Day!
Well, I haven't advertised this since I was 18 years old, but happy fucking birthday to me! I came dangerously close to having the waitress come out on Sunday to sing me happy birthday at Macaroni's grill... but I don't think I'm ready for that.
Every year on my birthday I take the time to look at what I've done over the last year, and what I've accomplished and what I need to work on.
Let me say this, every year since I was 20 years old has gotten better. Becoming an adult has been such an amazing experience. I can truthfully say all that anger and resentment that I felt towards the world and people has slowly slipped out of my body and everyday is now beautiful. I've met so many people and learned so much stuff. It's incredible.
So to everyone, Happy Ric Day. In celebration of me go out and talk to a random person in the street. Try to make their day better, and in turn your day will be better as well.
8:06 AM
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Tuesday, July 24, 2007
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One down, one to go
After I don't know how many years, I finally paid off one of my credit cards in two months. Friggin amazing. I found two grand in two months, and now I'm free. Unbelieveable. 4 more grand to go, but I should be done before the end of the year. I'm totally surprised at myself.
7:29 AM
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Sunday, June 03, 2007
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Stars are the new Butterfly
Think about that the next time you see some 30ish woman wearing a belly shirt, showing off her slightly sagging mid-section, and you're making fun of the butterfly that adornes either her lower back or shoulder. (This also includes roses, tribal tattooes, and fairies)
12:28 PM
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Monday, April 02, 2007
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I Love Sports!
I urge everyone to take a minute to read this article: http://sports.espn.go.com/nba/news/story?id=2816356
Now, why would I post this? Mainly because of the extreme humor of it. At first I didn't notice it, but after reading "comments" from other people, someone pointed out that:
'The release also stated that the team and league "shall conduct a full and complete investigation as to the validity of these allegations. If these allegations are true, appropriate action will take place immediately." '
Does that mean that they're going to investigate if Jews really are crafty? And are they going to have a conclusive report? This could be one of the most important findings of the millenium.
Damn do I love sports.
Happy Passover by the way.
6:53 AM
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Wednesday, February 28, 2007
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Black History Month
This is now the last day of Black History Month, and I've noticed more and more the strangeness of this special time.
Not that long ago I went into the Government Center in Downtown Miami and I noticed this huge display honoring slaves and the difficulty of their lives. It has these two mannequins in a wood shack, one doing laundry and the other playing a banjo. It was right out of Amos n' Andy.
I also started to wonder how far away are we really from that place? It made me think of an exhibition that I saw when I went to Indianapolis over the holidays and saw this display of the Quilts of Gee's Bend. The Quilts were being made by poor black women in Alabama and their Quilts are said to resemble abstract art more then traditional textile arts. What was most striking was the video of the conditions that these women lived in. The video I saw showed scenes of their homes in the 1950s and 1960s and it was basically the same exact situation as the slaves shown on display.
Also, not that long ago, HBO had a documentary called Lalee's Kin: The Legacy of Cotton about a family in Alabama that has a history of 3 generations of Cotton Pickers, along with 3 generations of extreme poverty. The documentary was made in 2001, and looks as if they were shooting scenes of Sharecropping farms from the late 19th century.
I just find it odd that people want to try putting a distance between the racial discrimination of this country talking about it as if it were history when there are so many problems between the races right now. I don't know if it's worse that the situation still exists or if the general opinion of white America is that poverty and injustice along racial lines doesn't exist anymore and it's just part of history. It's especially frustrating when you hear the complete opposite from a black person. I had a friend in college Kebony King, who went to FAMU and was studying African-American Studies. Kebony would tell me that one of the biggest problems in black culture is what they saw as an "institutional destruction of the strong male figures in the black family dynamic". He would point out laws that a person caught with a gram of cocaine usually gets a misdemeanor possession charge, but if another person is caught with a gram of crack-cocaine it carries a felony charge. He also felt that the popular culture of blacks was an incredible deterrant to the bettering of blacks. He would quote Bill Cosby who said, "if you don't want a black person to steal your money, then hide the money in a book". And there were a lot of other examples that he brought up.
Mainly though, and this I agreed with, he felt that the general apathy and lack of sympathy from whites basically pushed the situation past the breaking point. The lack of education, the lack of money to help, the lack of support, etc, etc, just kept a vicious cycle continuing, and the messages that white America gives to blacks is, "this is America, the land of opprotunity! You should be able to pull yourself up from your bootstraps! If you can't do it, you're just lazy and worthless." But how can you really pull yourself up when you aren't even given the practical skills to job interview correctly? How can you become a better person when in your school the teachers don't teach you anything, they just hope to push you onto the next person? It's a very distasteful situation.
Of course, the biggest problem of all is what this all culminates into which is what we saw two years ago with Hurricane Katrina and what is occuring in the aftermath of it. I'll never forgot 4 days after Katrina hit New Orleans and watching the news and seeing an interview of a white truck driver that was parked on the outskirts of New Orleans, sitting there idly as the food and water in his truck was spoiling.
The truck driver was asked, "why are you sitting out here and not going into the city?" And in a thick Southern accent the truck driver responded, "I promised my wife I wouldn't go into that war zone and all those niggers, I don't want to get killed!"
On live tv that's what that guy said.
Of course, next they cut to images of corpses, emmaciated people, starving, thirsty, hungry, and dying people inside the New Orleans Convention Center begging and pleading for help. "4 days and there's no one here! Why is there no one here?! We're dying!" It was so gut wretching I began to cry; I'm even getting a little misty eyed right now re-living the experience.
Of course afterwards people were pointing out how the news had portrayed blacks in the city as looters and murderers, while whites were "struggling to survive" and were "survivors", you were there, I'm sure you remember. But of course, there was the marvelous backlash of people calling the critics oversensitive and being too concerned with Political Correctness; but that white truck driver wasn't too concerned with political correctness when he deprived those people of food and help. The only thing that he could think of was those monsterous black people running around the city stealing and murdering.
I especially love how it's two years after Katrina and the Lower Ninth Ward has had these following developments. First, the area is still basically depopulated. Second, the people who were told to leave New Orleans have basically not been given insurance money to rebuild their houses and move back to the Lower Ninth. As a result the City Government has seized the property and sold it in government auctions. And last, but definately not to be taken too lightly, the majority of the government auctions have been bought by land spulators who plan on building casinos and tourist attractions on the illegally seized and sold off land.
I love how the government has decided to sell off these people's homes, instead of trying to help them rebuild their homes and their lives. Of course, it makes you wonder what would happen if a rich, white area would've gotten destroyed the same way New Orleans did.
6:12 AM
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Tuesday, December 05, 2006
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Music, Musicians, and the local Scene
It's been about a year or more now that I've done anything at all in the music scene. When I first started two years ago I was always at Churchill's, SoHo, Liquor Lounge, Lounge 16, PS 14, I/O, The Alley... basically anywhere there was a show with the bands that I was really into. In the beginning it was bands like AKA, Stay Hitt, Why Not, The Reckless, The Crumbs, AAA, Dyslexic Postcards, Objects in Transit, Baby Calendar, Devotchka, Lady Balls Tuesdays, etc, etc. I really dug going out and checking these bands out, but looking back it was a really surface level love affair.
After a while (and especially after working as a Manager for a couple of bands), you get to see the real obnoxious side of music and musicians. For all the times that people say things like "I'm doing it for the fans" or "I'm doing it for the love of music", they're all basically full of total and complete shit. I was even doing an interview one time with a local band who had no album, had been playing for a year or so, and would have a turn out of MAYBE 50 people, and when I asked if they had any label interest, they said (in a really condesending tone) "Maybe a couple of Indie labels, but there is NO WAY we would work with an Indie."
I found after a while that there were really only a couple of honest reasons for why people were in bands:
One was that they liked to hang out with their friends during practice, and I use that term lightly, and smoke weed, drinking, and just getting fucked up. Don't get me wrong, I'm no advocate against smoking pot, and I think it can most definately help the creative process along. But if you're practicing your songs so that you can be good musicians, and your songs are solid, and tight, and well put together, then seriously, be sober, concentrate, really fucking put your effort into it.
The second thing was meeting girls. In all honesty, most musicians have absolutely no way to meet women. Keep in mind, a lot of these guys were total and complete nerds growing up. They got into music because they were in band or something else along those lines. They started bands with friends as an outlet from playing in school bands, and now they do drugs and get fucked by scene whores.
Which takes me to the third point, drug use. I don't know if it's a music thing, I don't know if it's an artist thing, I just know that it's a self loathing thing. So many of these people are totally and completely uhappy with their lives, and are trying to slowly kill themselves through drug use (and in my opinion are pussies for not just taking a gun to their heads, instead of really hurting their families, friends, and the majority of people around them through years of suffering through their drug use).
And last, but my favorite, the idolization of "oh my god, you're in a band? Wow, that is like so totally cool." Keep in mind, these are some very injured and hurt egos, and seriously, if you were a nerd and made fun of throughout your life, and now people think you're hip and cool because you're in a band, guess how addictive that is?
Why does this all bother me so much? Well, mainly because I haven't been to a show in something like a year and a half. Why not? Because I really hate this bullshit. I really dislike peoples stupid little ego issues, and the fake bullshit attitudes they have with what they've chosen as their "career". And I say career only because a lot of people want to claim to be professional musicians, but all they really want to be is a waiter who gets fucked up at night and plays in a band. It's all kind of sad and pathetic if you ask me. Not to mention it makes the scene suck.
Things would be so much better if people went out there and honestly tried to appreciate audiences and share their art with them. I totally hate this small town, crappy, piece of shit mentality party mentality down here. I love to party too, but if you want to be a musician for real, then stop fucking around man. Stay sober, promote your shows, make fans, do marketing, do press, do everything you fucking can, because this is supposed to be the thing you really "love".
6:58 AM
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Tuesday, November 21, 2006
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Some Super Gay Poetry I Wrote to my Ex
Yes, it's gay, but whatever. I just wanted to put it somewhere that I would be able to find it. If you want to read my gay ass poetry that I write to girlfriends, then enjoy. If not, I seriously suggest looking elsewhere or getting a vomit bag.
Mornings in a Dark Room
The day fills bright with the broken sun, Beams passing through blinds, causing a myriad of shadows across the empty dawn. Yawning with the sounds of birds, Reaching to the empty space next to me. Filled with nothing, just an impression of your body, Curving hips, a sad depression, I reach for your body that is unmistakably missing from it's spot next to me. Fingers search for your missing digits from my grasp. Desired kisses, talking with closed mouths, considerately avoiding breathing morning breath on each other. Truthfully, I awaken with you in my thoughts. Your laughter Your smile The way we stare into each others eyes Stroking each others cheeks Probing hands. The suns rays cross my face, burning my eyes closed, but i still rise with you in my thoughts.
The Sun Rises and Now I can See your Smile
Forever taken with the dreams of a true love,
Awakened in the night with yells of passion,
Covering hands move back and forth,
Feeling for the opening to your insides.
Restless in sleep, moaning with tiredness,
Kissing inspite of bad breath.
The mornings are a haze of recent consciousness
And the dreams of the night before.
But it all seems to be in a cloud,
Soft, comfortable, beautiful.
Mornings have become my favorite time,
Waking with you in my arms.
A Poem For ______
Hair filled kisses,
Brown eyes in the dark,
Biting my nose,
My sore tongue,
Your soft skin,
The point of your hip,
Your giggle when I kiss your ribs,
Your squirm when I kiss your neck,
Our mixing sweat,
Your weight on my hips,
are not the things I remember.
Your childhood in Cuba,
Your dad as a clown,
Your paintings,
Your asperations to be a success,
Your questions as to your future,
The way we have to adjust to each other after a long seperation,
Meeting my friends,
The often tension we have,
Being in Barnes & Nobles looking at art books,
Discussing philosophy,
Laughing.
When you're away, and I want to remember,
All you are, and all I desire,
I close my eyes and think of those times,
Those truly important moments.
In The Eyes, A Woman Loses Her Breath
Breathing harder, her eyes are pressed closed
Reaching for air that wont maintain her grip
She bites her lips, with holding her screams
As if electrified, her hairs stand on end
The nerves in her body explode through her skin
A drop of sweat running down her back
Is too much to take, and she tries to arch away from it
Falling off the small of her back, it lands on the sheets
Staining it with the work of her passions
Finally she relaxes again, tightly held
She sleeps as if she were surrounded by comfort.
On the Alter
Last night I dreamt
Of you on an alter:
back arched, arms dangling from the sides, legs falling off the end.
I went to save you,
You seemed so helpless,
But I couldn't,
Whenever I came near you pushed me away.
I went to kiss you
You seemed so desireable
But I couldn't,
Whenever I came near you pushed me away.
Finally, I went to sacrifice you,
My jeweled blade
caught the light, and a rainbow of colors fell across your stomach.
Your chest heaved and tossed under the weight of the light.
When I thrust my knife into your stomach
You gasped with delight, but also turned your head and groaned in pain as well.
When I awoke I felt you next to me,
But you weren't,
You were still on the alter,
Waiting to be sacrificed.
The Summer Sun
The summer sun melts away the paint,
It causes the brain to shift and burn,
Out of the ears and into the mouth the thoughts disappear,
But only from the evaporated Earth can they exist.
A word is a word, and should never be broken,
An idea can always become a weapon,
But it is only within your own breath
That you can find truth.
The glaring heat may cause a mirage,
Sweltering away any sense of reality
in ones eyes
which can always be deceived.
Only by your mouth,
your tongue,
your lips,
your touch,
Can rationality be made logic.
The summer sun may distort the world,
But true trust and true faith can never errode.
Untitled
The silent dark entraps the room
Fingers play with hands playing with fingers,
A kissed nose,
A bitten cheek,
The dark is filled with movement.
She turns away,
Vanilla hair covers my face,
I put my arms around her willow waist.
Pull her tight and kiss her neck
bite down grab, fight, push, and giggle.
She settles in again,
Face to face,
Exchanging smiles,
I can't tell if your eyes are open,
But I know they are.
Fip again, head on chest,
The rise and fall of an ocean's calm,
Hearbeats no longer racing, starting to fall.
We're talking,
I'm nodding off,
We're talking,
I'm falling asleep,
We're talking,
and I don't want this night to end.
Eventually she turns away,
A distance greater then the drive it took to see her,
But thankfully we pull each other near,
Side by side we fit in well.
Back sleeper to front sleeper,
your opposites my attraction.
But never can I feel so close
Then interlocking pieces,
arm over the top
an arm underhead.
10:05 AM
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Saturday, November 18, 2006
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Robots can now feel
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20061116/ap_on_sc/resilient_robots_6
What's interesting to note about the article is that Robots can now sense damage and compensate for it. Maybe I'm going down a slippery slope here, but isn't that what pain is? I mean, there is an association of "feeling" something that makes us uncomfortable, but how else will a robot be able to sense the damage? You may be saying, "well, it isn't 'feeling'" anything, but it is, it's feeling the damage. You may be saying, "well, it isn't a negative 'feeling'", but it is. It makes it sense that something isn't working properly, and therefore adjusts for it. Before long they'll make robots that will be able to tell you when it isn't feeling well, and needs to have a check up. These maybe more basic then human needs and desires, but I'm sure there are many animals out there that have that experience damage and just drag their leg around without the same "pain" feeling that humans do. Now that's what I call advancement!
7:12 AM
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Chariman Mao
For the longest time I've been accessorising myself with a Chairman Mao messenger bag, that has his face on it and Chinese lettering that says "Serve the People". For the most part, I just knew the most basic things about him, leader of Communist China, was considered a hero to the peasants, etc. So I decided to get a book about him, and I went and got a book from work called MAO. I'm not that far into the book, but seriously, Mao was totally fucked up. I'm not even talked a regular kind of fucked up, I'm talking fucked up like this, "[Mao had subordinates read] one text... to guide his trainess.. [in] ways to deal with their victims. If they were 'stubborn,' 'we'll slit their ankle tendons and cut off their ears.' [Mao] greeted the punishments, in particular this gruesome one, with rapture: 'I had been listening so absorbedly as if in a drunken stupor or trance [to to the description of the punishments], and I was suddenly woken up by the yelling of 'Wonderful,' and I too couldn't help bursting out 'Wonderful!'" Can you imagine someone cheering 'Wonderful' when hearing about a form of torture? That's crazy.
Whats even crazier is that as history progresses and Mao's attrocities go further and further, they become more and more accepted amongst the Communist Party leaders. There's even one point where a group of other Communists go to party headquarters to show that inspite of their loyal support of the Communist Party, Mao still tortured them, claiming they were Anti-Bolsheviks (in all actuality they were just people who were not loyal to Mao). They showed the Party leaders the scars from their torture. And guess what the Party did? They fucking killed them! For insubordination! But what's crazy is that the authors of the book uncovered evidence of letters between Russia and the Chinese Communist Party, where the Party leaders said that they knew that these people were loyal to the Party, but had to satisfy Mao. You wanna know why? Because Mao was an ambitious leader, and they knew that if they followed him, he would be able to eventually take over the country. (At the time China was split between the Communists and the Nationalists Party, led by Chiang Kai-Shek, the other most notorious figure in Chinese history around this time period).
Honestly, I really have to say the atrocities in this book are appalling. Mao was selfish, childish, a megolomaniac in every sense of the word. The beginning of the book shows how Mao wrote journal and diary entries to himself where he was talking about how life has to be lived for the "I", and nothing should really stand in the way of that.
It just sort of makes me wonder about the idea of selling out morals, philsophies, even every basic sort of human dignity for the capture of power.
I don't think I'm going to wear that Mao bag anymore.
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Currently
reading
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Mao: The Unknown Story
By
Jung Chang
Release date: 18 October, 2005
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6:35 AM
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Wednesday, November 15, 2006
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You know...
I look at all these people in their big sunglasses, polo shirts, tight jeans, and all those other looks associated with Indie and how it's become the latest fashion trend, and I think to myself, 'if this were 1986, would these people all have teased hair and Z. Cavarechi?'
11:09 AM
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