I remembered that when I was a little kid the teachers at school complained to my parents that I was always falling asleep. I even used to miss the recess time because of it. One time I woke up just after recess and two teachers were discussing what to do about my problem. It wasn’t the first time, so they wrote a letter to my parents and my dad took me to see my pediatrician and figure out what was wrong with me.
The doctor did some blood test and found out my hemoglobin was low. It’s an iron deficiency. I had to consume things rich in iron for a while and that seemed to cure things for the moment. It wasn’t the last time I fell asleep in class, but it was expected. Isn’t that when people do when the interest is not there?
Lately, I’ve been getting these anxiety to want to fight somebody or hit something. I get angry for a minute and then the feeling goes away, or I control it. Anger is one of those feelings that I learned to control when I was younger. I used to get really angry at my mom for saying shit about me that wasn’t true and she never stopped. She never knew when it was enough. I honestly feel like saying all the shit she had to say about me and anyone else was and still is her self medicated therapy. My dad had his good moments too. I think he felt like he was some god and he tried to exercise full control over everything I did. There was no freedom of expression. As far as I can remember all of the things I did that make me feel alive were behind their backs. But this is the past now. All I can do, if I ever get lucky enough to have my own family, is do better with the things they didn’t do right and continue doing the right things, which there are many.
So anger is a feeling I bottle, happiness I also know how to contain very well. I think my excitement for business is probably the one feeling I have no control over. I’m like a kid in a candy store when it comes to talking about all the things I’m planning on accomplishing and I’m sure people get tired of listening, but I can’t help it.
My dad has been here the whole week and me, him and my brother have been hanging out. Every day we go all over the place looking for something to buy… I don’t really understand that concept, but I won’t oppose it as long as I get something for all the driving. Ha!
I’m sore as hell… I started working out again and yesterday I did for an hour and then played basketball for five hours, now I’m feeling it. It feels good to get back in the gym though, so I won’t even complain.
Right now I’m putting together some Bob Marley songs for my dad. He leaves tomorrow at 4:00 a.m. and I’ve been promising him these CD’s for a while, so now he’ll have them. One thing I wanted to do was put together a DVD for my mom so she could see how we’re living here in San Diego, but I don’t have enough time. Maybe I’ll put it on YouTube so they can see it. There are options.
Man… this is some bullshit. I just woke and I’m hungry. I’ve got nothing in my refrigerator except for a bag of old spinach, butter and jelly. My car is gone ’cause my brother took it, so now I’ve got to walk over to Carl’s Jr.
My dad is coming tomorrow from Panama to visit for a few days. I’ll buy groceries before then and clean my place a little bit. I’ve got laundry to do too.
I wish I could say more, but right now I need to take a shower and get going. That large size Double Western Bacon Cheeseburger combo is calling me.
One of my cousins gave birth to her first child this morning at 1:30 a.m. I’m an uncle, even though it’s hard to feel that way. I think it’s only because I’m not close to my cousins or anyone else outside of my immediate family, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about them. It’s still a little crazy that it feels like it was just yesterday when we were playing Nintendo and watching E.T.. When the biggest worry was getting to level eight on Mario Bros. and having a birthday party at Chucky Cheese.
Even though it has been so many years since I last saw my cousins, I can still remember the thoughts going through my mind at the time we were closer. Before I even turned eight years old I remember, for example, that I wanted my mom and dad to become American citizens. This was because my country, while it was occupied by the American military, had territories that were limited to Americans, primarily military personnel. With my uncles being part of the American military, it always bugged me how they could easily cross into Panamanian territory without needing id’s, but for my family to go to their side of the fence it was always much harder and pretty much impossible without the vouch of my uncles. Even at an early age I realized how unfair things could be. Why did I need permission to explore my natal country when others born outside didn’t?
My determination to get American citizenship grew even more when I started traveling overseas. Everywhere I went it seemed like the dark-blue American passport would always open doors much quicker than my light-blue Panamanian passport. At times I was embarrassed of my nationality because it didn’t seem to do anything for me. My American friends were always more at ease crossing borders than I was. They knew that everywhere they went they were well represented. I knew that if something happened, I was on my own. But this the world we live in, isn’t it? It’s not always fair. After 20 years of wanting that American citizenship I finally got it. I used to look at the United States of America from the outside, now I write from within. And in my heart there will always be a special place for that country who gave me my first breath of air, who thought me so much with so little. It’s hard to describe the way I feel about my beautiful Panama, but my eyes water when I think of her like this. I wish she could have given me everything I ever wanted…
I came to America with a different reality. A reality that broadens scales a bit further than the average born American citizen. This reality is the one that tells me that poverty goes well beyond not having a good education, and that dictators, not citizens, really do control the destiny of nations at times. This dark-blue passport I own represents a lot more than a greater freedom to cross imaginary borders. It represents more opportunities and the accomplishment of a life dream.
I would be a fool to not take advantage of the opportunities that have been given to me. It is true that every day presents itself full of opportunities, but if we can’t see them then how can we take advantage of them? We just don’t see things the same way if we’re accustomed to them. We don’t think of every breath unless we’re gasping for air the same way we don’t think of every heartbeat unless we’re having heart problems. This is our world, and as unfair as it can be, it is also a beautiful experience, and I know my nephew already holds the better hand. Welcome to this world nephew.
My dad called. He calls pretty often these days. He wanted to see how everything was going and let me know that he’s sending money for me and my brother. I could hear music in the background and he was repeating everything I was saying so I could tell there was someone else in the room. It was my mom. After years of not talking, they recently started talking again and they both seem happier. I’m happy for them and whatever they decided as far as wanting them getting together… to me is like whatever. They will always be my parents and that’s what’s important. Like I said, whatever makes them happy.
When I was growing up there were times I wanted my parents to get a divorce. It would have made things a lot easier for me. I would have only had to deal with one instead of two every time I did something wrong. Sometimes I would get separate punishments from them. How is that fair?
I talked to my mom and she sounds good. I don’t talk to her as often as I do with my dad. If they don’t call, I don’t talk. I don’t know why, but I feel responsible for every woman in my life. Like I got to take care of them. As time keeps moving, I’m also starting to feel more responsible for my dad; and my brother now that he’s here living with me. I try to advise him without sounding bossy and I give him all the freedom he deserves. I just don’t want him to have to go through some of the bullshit I’ve had to go through the almost six years that I’ve been here in the U.S.
My report: I rented this movie because I saw it had comments from Russel Simmons, Whoopi Goldberg and Damon Dash in it. I wanted to know how black people in power felt about the word nigger, and it turned out to be interesting.
The word nigger or nigga is used among black people in the U.S. in many different ways. When I first came to this country I only knew one meaning for the word. It is that same racial slur most people know the word by. But when I heard on T.V. and on songs, people using the word nigga so freely I thought maybe it is OK for anybody to use it. So I tried using the word, but every time I did it just didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel right because in my brain there was already a symbol associated with that word. It also didn’t feel right because no everybody, not even all blacks, feel the same way about it. The first and only time I heard my mom use the word nigger, she used it as a derogatory term towards my dad (when he wasn’t in the room) because they were having an argument. And even then it didn’t make sense that my black mom would try to insult my black dad by using the word nigger… they’re both black! It’s like this one time I was fighting with my older brother so I called him an “hijo de puta,” a common insult in Panama that means “son of a whore.” You see where the problem is? We’re brothers! By calling him a son of a whore, I was calling my own mother a son of a whore. As soon as I said, my brother smiled at me and said “we have the same mother you dumb ass,” we both laughed and that was the end of the fight. Never again did I use that same phrase on any of my brothers.
Here is my problem with the world nigger: it divides people. It divides blacks from all other races, and what’s most important, it divides blacks who are against the use of the word nigger from those who favor it. If you ask me, I would say the use of the word today in Hip Hop is mainly serving the same purpose it did when it was first used on blacks. I heard Chris Rock, a black comedian, say that there are black people and then there are niggers. I say niggers are blacks. He was trying to say that a nigger is a dumb black person who is ignorant and likes being ignorant, they like to “keep it real.” I am against his way of thinking because, again, it does nothing but cause more division.
I’ve heard people say that “nigger” is a racial slur, but “niggaz” isn’t. What? That is confusing, and the truth is that it is just another way to try to make the word OK. In Hip Hop lyrics, the word nigga is used all the time. These lyrics are not being heard by black kids, they are being heard by every race and culture on the planet. As artists, we black people are telling the word that it is OK to use the word nigga, but many times when we hear non-blacks use the word we get mad, why? The reason why is because the word, in many ways, still holds the same meaning it had many years ago.
The word nigga is a double standard and at the same time a form of empowerment. To the black person it could mean “I will use the word nigga because I want to, and no white person is going to tell me I can’t,” it could also mean “the word nigga is for us black people ONLY to use,” or “I am better than that other black person who looks just like me.” If you are a black person using the word nigga, you are using it to rebel or distinguish yourself. Either way, the true outcome is division.
I choose not to use the word nigga because it divides. If I use it it will be in a sense of unity amongst black people and knowing that everyone in the room is comfortable with the word. I truly love my race too much to help shred it apart. I don’t care what nobody, aside from all blacks, think of the word “nigga”. Let’s get our own black culture to unite so we can have a unanimous vote.
Rating:
About it: The biggest names in show business come together to offer their opinions on one of the most inflammatory words in the English language in filmmaker Todd Williams’ revealing and thought-provoking documentary. In its long and complex history, the word “nigger” has gone from a cutting and derogatory racial slur to a term of endearment frequently used by African-American youth culture. Though the word has in a sense been “taken back” by the very people that it targeted, it still has the power to anger and enrage when taken out of its new context. As a variety of celebrities including Quincy Jones, Russell Simmons, George Carlin, Damon Dash, and Bryant Gumbel offer their opinions on this polarizing word, the taboo of language is broken to reveal an ever-changing society that is constantly attempting to make sense of a dark past while simultaneously attempting to build a brighter future. ~ Jason Buchanan, All Movie Guide
I’ve been having really good conversations with my dad lately. He called and we were talking about how to treat people. Basically saying that you got to treat people right, be humble, but at the same time not let anybody step over you. And I’ve been thinking about this for a minute, and I know it’s so true. It’s just hard for me still to know when I should react right away and when I should think before I react to something in a way I’m going to regret later.
So I’m going to make a list of things I think I should react to right away. In other words, not wait to talk to the person I feel offended me later on.
If the supposed offender says something that is without a question offensive.
If the supposed offender says something to me in front of other people that I feel might take away from the perspective the other people have about me.
Any type of physical contact that is not welcome and offensive.
This is all I can think of for now. If anything I’ll add or take away from the list later.
Aristotle Onassis is someone I’ve admired as a business man for a very long time. What I like about him the most is that he was an immigrant in Argentina and made his way to having billions of dollars as a businessman.
I’m watching a movie about his life right now. It’s called “Onassis: The Richest Man in the World.” I don’t like that it skips on all the business details, like when he first started on the tobacco business and then the oil tankers business. I didn’t know he had to sleep with a man for his dad’s freedom when he was a teenager. I also didn’t know that he left Greece because of a fight with his father, I thought he left because of a war. It doesn’t really matter though… the personal details of his life are not really what I care about. Like I said, I wish the movie wouldn’t have spared on the business details of his life.
His story inspires me in a way. I like to read about businessmen because it keeps my dreams reachable. It won’t matter if I’m old and still pursuing my dreams, the KFC guy did it when he was old and so can I.
I just finished reading the first chapter of the Autobiography of Malcolm X. After watching Lupe Fiasco talk about Malcolm X and Martin Luther King, I decided that it was important for me to know more about Black history in America.
I can see how Malcolm X became the man that he did. With so many of his family members dying on the hands of white men by the cause of race, I think most people would feel the same way but few might be able to express it. In understanding Malcolm’s past I’m also coming to understand a little better why I am the way I am today: my mother’s constant criticism and complaining, both of my parents strict ruling which sometimes turned physical and let no room for independent actions. There really is no wondering.
Malcolm X wrote he was proud he never raised his hand to his mom. I have to admit I did once, but my father was there to keep that hand from touching her and I’m greatful for that. I had to hear my mom say things about me that weren’t true all the time. She would make up stories in her mind about how I was stealing money from her, that I was good for nothing, call me a “piece of shit”, plant shit on my dad’s ear so he would get angrier at me than what he usually was and when things got physical between my dad and I, my mom was right behind my dad cheering for him because I “needed to be thought a lesson.”
I’m not saying I was an angel, but I didn’t deserve what I got. Nobody does. I grew up without affection, hugs and kisses. When I came to live in the U.S. and spent more time around other families and saw how sisters, brothers and parents hugged and told each other how much they loved them I was puzzled. I couldn’t understand why they were doing it, especially so often. My mother had never told me that she loved me except once and she did it on a piece of paper written in French - “Je T’aime” - and I could count with one hand the number of times I made physical contact with my parents any given year, and I’m talking the touch of a hand or something not hugs or anything deep.
I am a much better person today. I know how to talk to people and be social, even though I do it in an academic sort of way. I know when to smile, when to listen, what to say and what not to only because I think about it while I’m doing it and I know what it usually instigates on the other person, not because it comes natural. I can look at people face to face and I have no problems hugging or being close to someone else. And after taking so much shit talking from my mom I’ve developed a barrier against words. They don’t move me, but I’m learning that this could be as bad as it is good. People tend to abuse, let themselves go and try to step over if I don’t say something back on time. I refuse to let anyone call me a “nappy headed FSR (Financial Services Representative)” and do nothing. I will not turn the other cheek nor will I act out of anger.
Acting out of constant anger is where I think Malcolm X went wrong. I think it keeps us sometimes from making smart decisions. But I will continue reading the book before I make final statements. All I know is that I don’t want to be a part of a circle of constant battles. I will step in it if I have to though just to get shit straight, but I want to be able to concentrate on myself. So don’t push and everything will be OK. Show love.
New York Times Book Review, Robert Boone: It behooves us to read, and even reread Malcolm's book, and especially the last five chapaters, which describe the transformation that took place in his mind and heart after his break with Elijah Muhammad and the Black Muslims.
When I first came to the U.S. from Panama, I remember I had $30 in my pocket. I crossed the border with my dad and my little brother and we stayed for a couple of days in Miami before my dad and brother went back to Panama because my brother was still studying down there. I hopped into three more planes and went down to live in California with Tracy, now an ex-girlfriend. If it wasn’t for my dad giving me a check for $700, I don’t know how I would have made it that first month. But nevertheless I was still broke.
My first memory when I arrived in California was of me going to this fast food joint called “In-N-Out”. Tracy had picked me up from the airport in Los Angeles and it was a two hour drive till we got home. I was thinking that the food was only going to bring me down maybe $6. At least that’s what I would have paid in Panama. But I remember how worried I got when I heard it was over $10. I couldn’t believe it. Now I just think it’s funny, but back then coming straight out of Panama that was like a slap on the face. I mean, we are talking a third of my money, gone in one meal! And I still had 29 days to go with that cash.
I gave Tracy the check my dad gave me and she deposit it to her bank account. I’m no sucker though, I just trusted her like that. It paid for my half of things that first month and after all, she had been waiting for me to get my green card for more than a year and a half. It was hard to communicate with people because their English was too fast for me to understand and there were so many words I didn’t know. Not to mention my accent was hard for others to understand to. I usually had to repeat things two or three times. Tracy was good for me though. I was like a little kid absorbing everything around me. From how to use a debit or credit card to pay at a grocery store to how to get a job.
Sure enough… I spent time studying B.I.G. and learned something new. Now I’m actually writing lyrics. I’m writing the second verse for a song I’m calling “I Will Be Back”. The song addresses my family, devoting a verse to my mom, one to my dad and the last one to my brothers. Each one talks about different issues and stays within the message of me coming back to visit them. It’s good practice. I like it, but it’s probably not something most can relate to. That’s OK cause I feel like I have to make this song. After I finish on “I Will Be Back” I’m going to start working on “One Night Stand”.
I got my video camera today. I already made a quick test video, but I’m working on getting the software to be able to open it on my computer add a splash screen at the start and end of the video. Make it look all professional and shit. I got this feeling right now of moving forward, which I love, I pretty much always feel this way but usually I don’t feel like I’m moving this fast. Ever since I stopped working, I have all this time to actually do what I want to do. I wish it could always be like this, but realistically next week I’m going to have to start looking for a job. A part-time job that is. I’m not killing myself anymore. I need to focus more on the things I really want to do.
It’s late… I spent all day between school and sitting in front of the computer trying to get the gallery on antoniobullen.com to work. I think I finally did. Until I find another bug.
Tomorrow I have a breakfast at 9:00 for a 100% score from a secret shop at work. I also get $100. Not bad… Friday is the last day. I wish I could just focus entirely on my own thing but I know I’m going to have to find another job. I can’t put all the burden on my dad. He’s got his own bills to worry back in Panama.
I met with my counselor today about my International Business program. I want to switch from studying abroad in Mexico and Chile to just Mexico, but at the top university in Latin America. It can happen but I’ll have to spend another semester in the USA before I leave. I’m inclined to make the switch right now cause’ I’ll be saving myself a semester of studies. Meaning I’ll gradate faster. We’ll see what happens.
I spent the whole weekend working on my music and antoniobullen.com. I’m working on the homepage and linking the life gallery, life book, and whatever else I end up putting in, together. It’s looking pretty good so far. I like it. I’ll keep working on it when I have time. Right now I need to do my homework.
I’m also thinking about changing my International Business program a little bit. Instead of going for a triple degree program, I’m thinking dual degree but I’ll be going to a better university. I talked to my dad about it and he likes the idea. It will still take the same amount of time to finish but I’d rather have a degree from the best university in Latin American and another from one of the best International Programs in the USA than two other mediocre degrees.
About my music: I’m starting to feel the flow. Like it’s just coming. The more I practice it just keeps getting better. Now I’m able to put in print my ideas a little faster and with the microphone I’m recording myself and figuring out the areas in my speech where I need improvement. It’s all elemental.
I feel responsible for my family back in Panama, the wife and the children that I will hopefully one day have. It’s like I need to make things happen. Financially I have to be able to provide for my mother, my father, my brothers if they need me to and even my aunts and cousins.
It would be a very special day for me when I fly down to Panama and surprise my family. I will tell my dad he doesn’t have to work anymore. That he can retire for the second and last time. Give him money that will make any of his material wishes come true. Whether it is to open a bakery or build a church. And if he doesn’t want to open a bakery, I’ll open one in his name.
I will go to my mom’s house and tell her that the mortgage is paid. Create a trust under the family name and give everyone monthly allowances so they can relax and do anything they want to do.
I’ll buy a house in Barbados and give a key to every member of the family. Sponsor a trip around the world for my big brother Alfredo so he can learn as many languages as he wants. And offer my little brother Alexander the opportunity to build a hospital in Panama under the family name.
I will give my future wife the wedding of her dreams, financial security, shopping sprees and anything she wants as long as she does one thing for me: be my half. That means she will never do anything to hurt me. And by “me” I also mean my children and my birth family. She can rest assured I will do the same.
I will do all of these things because I love my family.
The older I get and the more experience I get. I understand how important it is to feel loved rather than be loved and also to have at least one other person you can love the same way.
I’ve said many times before that I didn’t feel loved for a very long time. I didn’t start learning how to express my feelings, be social, be able to give hugs or used the words “I love you” until I was about 21 years old.
I was seriously lacking in the area of communication and expression of feelings. Being defensive and acting with constant aggression is where I was comfortable. It just has to do with the way I grew up. My parents are not bad people, but they’re not gifted in the area of socializing or being affectionate either.
Becoming an independent young man and separating my self from the rest of the family at an early age was to me a very good thing. Thanks to my first girlfriend, Tracy, I started learning how to communicate. And yes, it was very uncomfortable for a very long time. I still remember the stupid fights we used to get into because I could not communicate effectively. I would hold all my anger inside and let it out in just one single emotional blow, with so many mean things to say that by the time I was over, she was crying herself insatiably, not knowing where to turn and wishing she was dead. And then I was happy. Happy because she was suffering the way I had suffered all my life, when, as a little boy, I cried myself to sleep listening to songs like “Hero” from Mariah Carey’s CD. Wishing a hero would come and rescue me. Tell me I was adopted or something of that sort and I was going home now. And I no longer had to hear the constant verbal abuse from my mom, or put up with my dad’s “power trips”. I’ll have more to say about that later on, right now I just want to tell Tracy and every other person I hurt with my attitude and struggles at the time that I am sorry. And I know some of you have already forgiven me.
got some money… spent some money… tried to invest some money…. now i got no money…. so i’m getting more money… my dad wants me to finish college… my girlfriend wishes i had money to spend on her… my mama won’t call… and my work… is where i get my money… but i don’t want to go no more…
so i work every day for that money… so i can take my girlfriend out… and i go to college when i leave work… so my dad can be proud of me… and maybe if I do everything right… my mama will call someday…
Cosmo thinking: I swear there’s something wrong with her.
Mom: Don’t talk to me that way!! Get your ass up, turn off the TV and go study. Now!! You always in that little world of yours, like if there was nothing else in life.
Cosmo: WHAT!! My world is not little. Who do you think you are talking to me that way? I happen to be taller and stronger than you mom, I can destroy you if I wanted to, so you better watch your mouth.
Mom slaps Cosmo
Cosmo Stares at his mom and he looks really angry. His mom looks at him intimidated…
Mom: I’m getting your dad on the phone, you are out of control.
I just got into my house for the first time in two weeks. I had a conversation with my dad about how I didn’t obey to what he asked me to do and how I should not answer to my mom or look at her in a bad way.
Everything is the same at home. It’s like a ritual that can’t be broken. Sunday morning everybody gets up, have breakfast and go to church. After church the critics come back to live. I wonder how much of what the people that go to church hear is actually absorbed and put to practice.
