Effect and Cause.
It is funny how the environment you grow in affects your way of thinking and the way you live your life once you grow up.. it is funny how you do certain things, act a certain manner or have certain thoughts. It is also funny how we really never realize that we are living the effect of some cause in the past that we really never thought it would change anything in our future.
not long ago something like this happened to me. I was just thinking about where I really was and who was I really. The party life and the promiscuity that I was living was depressing. It was really fun really, and I really do not regret partying until my body is unable to move or having massive amounts of sex with differnt guys. It was fun and very pleasuring, but the emptyness in it was just something very drepressing, something that I really did not see. It was the effect of an unknown cause. I really had lost touch with myself, I was just living but efren was just hiding in a dark corner. Waiting for someone to find him. But he was not really looked for.
I found out why I was so quiet, why I always looked mad, why I always isolated myself from groups, why I HATE teamsports. why I get attached to people so fast, why I hate my brother, I found the answers to many why's.
This is something very personal, but whoever reads this has either too much time in their hands or has at least a small amount of interest in knowing me. Well, I guess I am kind of tired of being so introvert.
Well, how I found out all these answers was in writing a letter to my hated brother who now is in jail. He has written to me before, but I guess the hate I felt towards him had implanted the thoughts of "its just a waste of ink and time" yes, it is a perverse thought.
Well, he had written to me sending salutations and saying how he has changed, and he asks me to pardon him from what he has done to him and stuff. Well before I received that letter he called me and just said how I was and stuff (I was somewhat under the influence of alcohol) I said I was fine, I had a job, everything was really good, and that I was celebrating christmas at a friends house. I told him that there were a bunch of hot girls (which they were like umm 13 or 15 y/o sisters of my friend Erika, I just said it like that to.. I don't know, like I mentioned before, I was under the influence of alcohol). He asked me to introduce him to one of the hot girls, to tell her, good things about him and or to connect them to be pen pals, he said that he was alone in there and stuff. That for some reason really pissed me off. I told him that these girls had a future, and that they wer picky about their partners. I basically told him that he was too inferior to these girls and that they would not even waste their time to even look at him from the corner of their eyes. Well after that, we kept talking and yeah, with my hipocritand sarcastic remarks. Well we finished the conversation and yeah, I kept drinking and I actually had a fun christmas eve.
Well, yeah in the phone conversation he told me that he was going to write me a letter. 3 days later I recieved it. Well, yeah, that is the letter I was referring to earlier. He told me in the letter that he changed, and that he fucking finally realized that his "friends" were not really his friends. FUCKING FINALLY YOU FIGURE THAT OUT!!!!
my mother had been telling him that forever since he was young.
Those friends are not for you, those are not friends, stay away from that kind of people. His friends were the cholo guys that end up in Aurora High School, and put large amounts of peer presure on you to do stupid things like take a knive to school (which he did) get in fights (which he did) do lots of drugs (which he did and I think he actually became addicted to them) steal money from your mother (Which he did) and the result is to be a horrid son that stressed out his mother. his brother had to see all that, he had to see those horrid arguments, where screams, rebellion and tears became one. Well, in his letter he also said that he did not know if i were happy that he would be in there. I honestly do not know if i am happy for him to be there. Since we have neve really lived like brothers, I can freely say that I do not care. But there are actually good and bad things that come out from his situation. GOOD THINGS: -He wont be able to do his stupid stuff. that he thinks cool people do but it is a actually fucking him over. -He's has this opportunity to think a lot and to reflect what he is doing of his life, and what he has done. Bad Things: He will not be able to start on his own. Even being 23 or 24 now I think, the last time he got out of jail he was still living with my mother. It is very sad. And it is also sad with my mother since she should've forced him to get out of the house. But there probably my brother would have gone to mexicali to my father's house and you never know what might happen there, they might start doing drugs together, or you know he might become some other loser cholo with the words "CHICALI 13" tatooed on his back or something similar. I think that is what my mother actually thaught of, and actually let him stay at her house, she always tried to have him work and stuff, but he is justa fucking loser with no desire of independency, nor to have control over his life. Well I do not know. so even the good ends up being bad. I don't know, I really am not able to do anything. if he really wants to change, he will, all of that is up to him. I have no control over him. he is the one that has to do the work by himself. it is all on him. Well, going back to the main topic. Yeah he sent this letter, and I decided to write back. Well I was writing the letter, and it began thanking him for calling me and for still remembering that he has a brother. I tell him that I have never been close to him because he was like his friends. he was one of the people i was forbidden to have as friend. I reall never wanted to see myself like my brother. Ive seen many small kids that follow their bigger brothers and that want to be like them, so they shave their heads and stuff and become problematic and they think they are cool and stuff when they are really just becoming something that most of the time has no future. I mean it is cool if you want to look all cholo like shave ur head and tatoos and all that other stuff. but when you are really into that kind of stuff it really brings a lot of problems. and it is so fucking stupid, they have like no valid reason to fight, they like fight you if you like live in another region, of if you wear a red bandanna. just stupid stuff like that. I wonder what is next? you are gonna get shot if you wear one of those "vote for pedro" shirts?? ugh its lame.... Well yeah I am going to keep going off topic and then coming back. so yeah anyways... I was writing to him, and I was just thinking that I am going to just be honest. and tell him what I really think. I told him that it really pissed me off when he asked me to introduce him to a girl. I mean he is asking me for favors. the first time he calls me like in a year and a half. i mean.... what the fuck is that. i told him that i would really not like him for any of my friends, that i have never liked his way of being. the way he carries himself. I mentioned him that he asks me to pardon him in his letter. and that i do not accept them. i told him that asking me to pardon him through a letter is just lame. to my eyes that is something a coward would do. I told him that I would really pardon him. But I asked him to think about something first. I asked him to think if he really thinks that I should pardon him. After all the fucked up things he has done to me, after all these years of fights, tears, arguments, and hate that he has caused. If he thinks that its appropiate for him to ask me to pardon him. if he honestly thinks that I should then to tell me and I will. I will not judge him since I am no one to judge, but I will let him be his own judge. And if he thinks that I should not. Then he should not even tell me, he would just need to do what he thinks would make him feel that would make me pardon him. After that I bring up what he told me in that phone call. when he told me not to speak bad of my mother. I really did not, I said that I was very dissapointed of that woman, but that was it. Well he tried to give me this lecture on the phone but i practically told him to shut the fuck up, that he did not know fucking anything. (Note: When I used to be a little kid I used to have this really squiggly writing; you'll see the purpose of this note later in the next few paragraphs) At this point of writing the letter, my thoughts took over my hand, I was not really thinkinga about what was I writing. I was just writing. I told him that even having the same mother, that she treated us radically different. I told him that when he was a kid that he was spoiled by his mother AND father. he had a normal childhood, and everything changed when HE decided to start hanging out with the wrong crowd. In my case. when I was born, my father and mother separated, my mother kept me. She was always working, and my brother was always outside with his "friends" so practically i had a very lonely childhood. I did have friends and I played with them and stuff. But there are many factors that affect your childhood, not everything for a child is just spend time with their friends. Well, I was home alone and I have until I moved out of my mother's apartment. So yeah my parents have been now separated for 19 years. On November 17, its going to be the 20th year. And it sux since it feels like it was my fault that they got separated. I began crying when I was writing the letter, my hand was tired, but I was not controlling it anymore. IT was doing it by itself. My true thoughts and feelings were writing for me. Well I was writing the letter, and all these thoughts and flashbacks were appeareing before my eyes, clear memories on how I used to hug my mother's pillow when I was alone because it had her scent, clear memories on how I ran away from home when i was 6 to look for my mother. Clear memories on how I used to lay down on the roof of my mothers car and stare at the stars for hours, hoping that she would arrive soon. Memories on how I used to sleep next to her, hugging her as tight as I could hoping to wake up and have my mother next to me. But It was something that never happened. I used to wake up around 5 in the morning every day just to hope to one day have the chance to say bye to her. which actually i accomplished once when she was late to work. That was the reason that I was a lot closer to my mother than him. I never really had my mother next to my side during my child hood. my father even living close i really never got to know him. he was always into using and selling his drugs while my brother left with his friends. I was a lonely boy. I really never had a true mother, neither a true brother, neither a true father. I was just part of a family that was never with me. The only people that I would honestly consider family is one of my cuzins. her name is celina. during my childhood she was like my sister. we spent lots of time together. we used to go to this canal that was packed with sunflowers during summer. we used to cut them and throw them in the water, and looked at spin graciously and being taken by the current. we used to think that they were saying their good-bye's to us when they spun... That is honestly one of the only moments of my childhood that I truly enjoyed. And my mother, father, neither my brother were present. Last year I went to that same canal with my cuzin celina, the canal was dry and full of trash. it was a sad sight. but even if the canal was dry, her and I are still together. As cuzins. She is pregnant now, my brother told me that in the "p.s." of his letter. I need to go and drop by to see how she is doing.. Well yeah going to the main topic again... My mother was really never there for me, she did what she could in emergencies, those were the only times she actually did not go to work, or went late. Well, my brother moved out and my mother and I lived by ourselves in her apartment. when she used to come from work, we used to talk, and she used to tell me the work drama and stuff. That did not happen very often though. Most of the time she was so tired that she just sat on her couch and watched television until 9:00pm and then went to bed. I used to just be in front of my computer doing homework, or just chatting and web-surfing my life away, or playing videogames. Other times I just went to kick it with Ernesto, he is one cool guy, we just have so many things in common that we just get along very well. When I spend time with him we always end up laughing our asses off. It's so great lol... There was when I began socializing, with people and actually met Andrea, Lola, Frank,Lalo, Suzana, Ramses, Remo, Gloria, Karen,jeff, Luis, Hellen, Carlos, Claudia, and other really cool people. Even though I was still not a very social person, at least I met people and actually had awesome and unforggetable times. At this point I was out, basically everyone knew I was gay. Except my mother. Well yeah, on the weekends, since my mother did not work we used to go to the swap meet just to look around, or just drank coffee or just watched television together and/or just talk about almost anything. Then I mentioned about the little picture that my mother saw that one day. The picture where I was kissing with Doug. There, my life made a 180 degree turn. When she found out I was almost literally living hell in my house. I saw a face of my mother that my brother would never see. I saw in her eyes the greatest anger I had ever seen. There I told my brother of how my mother would scream obsenities at me, how once I locked myself in the restroom hiding from my mother, and the next minute I was drenched in water from the hose she introduced through the window. How depressed I was, how I filled the kitchen with white sheets of paper with the phrase "I HATE YOU" written on each one. On how she called me names, and mentally tortured me, sometimes making me regret being born alive. Sometimes with suicidal thoughts. She tried persuade me by telling me about the kid that she aborted because she was not going to be able to support it, and how to her the grandchildren that I would've given to her would have been like if I gave her, her lost back. There is when I needed my brother the most. When I needed him my older brother to help me and protect me from her anger. But like always, he was not there. Then I stopped writing. I saw how each of the letters I wrote were just like how I used to write. each of the letters were made with squiggly lines that reminded me even more of my childhood. My fucked up childhood. The last thing ive written on the letter was how more of a family are my friends than my real family. I am not done with the letter. I have not finished it yet. It's quite impressive how the past impacts your present and your future. it is impressive how it shapes you into something, when you really have no idea what is going on. Today, I am going to finish writing that letter. and i am going to send it today too. also I am going to send another one to my mother, telling her my story. the story of this lonely boy. Well yeah, this is just about how I just found out why am such a lonely guy, I found out why I get attached to people so fast. I found out why I always look mad, now that I know what really is behing what I went through, everything becomes really clear. One thing that still is in me and that will never change is that loneliness has become my loyal companion. It has never failed me, I've learned to like being alone. Actually I dont mind being alone anymore. I like to spend time with myself just day dreaming or lost in my thoughts. I do that a lot. I can be lost in my head for hours, I can just sit anywhere and wonder off.