Bullies

I was bullied as a kid, probably a little more than the others
I was also a fat kid...I kinda had it coming and then I stood up for myself
Everything changed then, I mean EVERYTHING
I had the "feared" respect, and learned at a young age I was a bully myself
Well, to some extent at least.

I'm a bully in the sense of I'll push you farther, harder, and be more honest with you than most people you will ever meet
I grew up watching one cooking show religiously, I even faked being sick to watch it
Was it because I wanted to cook? I wanted my own show? I can't decide
He demonstrated in very broken English what he was cooking, but also showed the history of the food, where it came from, how it came to be, and what it consisted of and the small village it came from

That's what drives me cook, the history of food
Tonight at work I harassed some girls ordering because they were afraid they would say the entree wrong
I, in turn taught them some French (the very few terms I know, and taught them the French terms that are common you don't realize are French), and also taught them some Spanish and we spoke back and forth in Spanish

At the gas station buying a pack of smokes I had a girl yell out "donde vida?" I replied with "I think you mean donde mota, and no, I don't smoke" "Well, you're a chef where does your inspiration come from?" Realizing she was a complete and total un-educated, and quick to draw assumptions I replied with "I drink a lot of whiskey" I played the introvert card.

Inspiration isn't a direct result of intoxication. The mind itself is setup to be creative, we just miss it half the time. If Silverback Gorillas can teach themselves to stand and walk on their legs, we as humans can in turn realize where we actually come from and realize what we really are. What really makes us, drives us, and excites us. Sure, intoxication might "heighten the senses" but in the end? It's merely thoughts we subconciously choose to ignore.

I wake up the same way most people do...one pant leg at a time, I drink my coffee, I eat what everyone else does...frozen biscuits, sausage...etc. The realization that chefs eat like "normal" people is something that should be understood. We, most times, cook hundreds of meals a day...you really think we want to "cook" food after working 14 hours a day? Hell no. We eat like "normal" people do. We aren't seperate from you by any means, we just have a drive that is viewed as, and I quote from a lady tonight at work "you have to be kidding? You are in school from 9-3, in a kitchen and will go to work from 4 to 1 am?" "well maam, if I didn't love what I do, I wouldn't go to school for it. Cooking professionally isn't for everybody. It takes a special person to do it. Just promise me you never refer to cooks as artists...we, basically, are craftsmen. An architect makes "art" but it's still classified as a trade, a craft, same as a carpenter."

Flickering Lights

I sit here with no power, yet again. Of course, I stay at one of the four houses out of power in a two mile radiusl. Go figure. We went from half-ass power, to no power. I of course, being a five year old, run and turn lights and appliances on and off listening to the drain from my AC going up and down. Maybe I helped the loss of total power for half an hour, or maybe it was a cable that burnt. Either way, I felt something.

Sitting here in the silence, scrawling on paper with the only sounds in life being the flicker of a candle, my cat licking herself, and the drone of machines attempting to what nature made man to realize, I heard something; Silence. It was beautiful.

Listening to the sounds of man made machines, attempting to fix what man harvested from nature. Man didn't make electricity, nature did. Man merely harvested the means of what nature provided us. Much like in poverish countries, a feast to them of buying a goat to slaughter is the equivilance to us buying a car in cash. It's something we don't savor like we used to. Something we don't appreciate.

Tonight I found something deeper within myself. Sure, it might have been there the entire time, but tonight it's back. My drive, my desire, my curiosity; It's all back in full swing and I'm ready to go in. That's why I cook, there is always some deeper, darker meaning behind the person who made the food, not the food itself. The food speaks for a person who cannot easily speak in poetic forms, and doesn't have the means to draw on a canvas. We have a walk-in, a dream, and an empty stomach to feed.

The vultures,
They circle over a forbidden heart
A heart that has not yet died,
But is black as the night

They feast,
In patterns they swarm
Diving, and tearing flesh
Piece by piece until the bones are dry

Where do we go when we are the hunted?
Where do we run to when the ghosts are behind us?

Do we turn around to face them?
Do we run away and talk in circles?

Life is a giant merry go round,
Where the scenery changes everyday
Yet we call it progress
Because it's a new picture

Trials

It's taken me far too long to finally have the ambition to better myself
Sure, I have drive, passion, and ambition that people see and I don't
I now see what the world (I presume) sees in me
I don't know if they are right, and I've been ignorant this whole time
Or if what I see is the truth, the real side of me nobody knows
But they see it. They have to.

If I could die right now, be reborn, and come back as something different
Perhaps, an animal...
Maybe if the entire human race did such a thing,
Maybe we could learn appreciation
Be who we are, and not live in our greedy, selfish human nature ways
Maybe we were better off as primates as opposed to being human

Today I saw two bums fight, one pepper sprayed the other
I had no idea where to stand in the situation
I also so my dear friend's baby, my goddaughter, but only in pictures
I wanted to be there as it happened

If I can give just one person advice in life it would be as follows:

Don't fuck up the one thing you have going, whether it be a friend, an enemy, a love, a life...We spend too much time it seems trying to forget memories. They are memories for a reason. Hold them close, and always keep your pride higher than your chin.

Walls pt 1

Breaking down, no sound
Silence is the reigning king
But what is silence?
Better times? Forgotten memories?
Forgotten faces? Lost voices?

Voices we remember, yet can't hear
Faces we love, but can't remember the lines
From the jaw, to the chin, up to the lips
The beating heart, their eyelashes as they blink
While your fast asleep

I always thought I was a man of my word
Apparantly there was something I forgot
My words
If I could show you the world through my tired eyes
My aching back, my blistered feet, my bleeding fists
I don't think it's something you want to see

*Insert Title Name*

I'm forcing these words through fingertips, thought through the brain to make the actions. For tonight has been a night of nostalgia. Talking to old friends, thinking of old memories, old tunes we used to jam from bands that have died off. Maybe they haven't died off, but it's all the same.

If it's too good to be true, it probably is. The matter of fact lies within how bad you want you it.

People tend to neglect the fact that everything is obtainable. Our dreams are direct refelctions of our passion, and our desire.

They are merely fallen stars. The burn for so long before we see them fade away. Mostly because we let them fall away. We watch them burn, and fade away.

I'm not letting mine burn, so what's the price to pay for glory?

Note To The Editor

As I sit here and listen to fireworks intertwined with gunshots through my shoddy one room apartment, I read something that makes me ponder.

Life is a story that we write page by page everyday. You never know when the editor will ask you to turn in your assignment.

Some of you may view that as a negative thing, I for one found that to be a total pick me up. The glass is always half full when you enjoy the beverage that is coming out of it.

There is alot of things, and people more so often that tend to almost go out of their way to bring us down. To ruin us, destroy our hopes, destroy our lives in some cases. Why? Was it something you did? Said? Most of the time no. It's for being who you are. Jealousy is so deeply rooted in humanity that it makes me choke.

For instance look at the Silverback Gorillas. They have one head leader in their pack. He is the one who teaches, helps, works, and loves. The rest of his pack would follow him to the ends of the Earth because he is a leader, a lover, someone who inspires. Why can't humans follow someone like that? Instead we all try to out do one another with the latest trend, style, material item, material girl...or boy depending on who you are.

We idolize people who have millions of dollars, have sex with hundreds of people, drive the fastest, sportiest cars, who have the nicest houses, butlers, maids and the whole nine yards. We idolize sports stars, movie stars, musicians and for what? Did we idolize them before they got big? Of course not. We don't idolize aspiration. You just get called a sell out once you make money.

No my dear readers, we should idolize the few in the generation below us who do have hopes, dreams, a future that is not yet written, but they decided to write their own. Those are the people we should love and support.