tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89260404875606624442024-02-20T14:41:34.121-08:00Can we pretend I'm amazing...A new life is in the works. Spiritual,mental,physical and artistic. Good things to come because only good shall I allow.johnathonmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03128920054907782998noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8926040487560662444.post-7388935308849753672011-12-09T09:02:00.001-08:002011-12-09T11:07:16.648-08:00sequence of eventsFirst off and foremost, I just want to let you know that you're the reason that tis' the season..for most, I'll leave that piece be, why? it kinda makes me feel awkward speaking.. it's in my past like trick or treating..my eyes fill.. watered up...reason being, I keep it all bottled up..that's why it's logical to grab the cups and pour em' up..I toast to the pain..no matter if it leaves me throwing up..Shiiit! one time for ya' mind..assumptions aside on the really, though..too blunt on the blunts or you feel me on the Phillie's, though..I like to see the HTC in my Christmas tree's..to be honest..I'm miserable in general..but of course, that's what happens when you let remorse run its course..that's what I get for being blind to the facts, though..like snapbacks aren't back cuz they've always been trucker hats, so..see, I'm older now and more oblige..because the cause of your in bliss is because of ignorance..I'm stuck in an abyss of intelligence..Therefore, you'll never get it even if I'm throwing hints thereafter..I've learned early that unimportant people measure in accomplishments..the real importance is marveling at behind the scene common sense..then you'll truly see through ones incompetence..O.K., per say, we blame the cliche trend snaggers.. LOL, if you feel it necessary..either way.. inevitably, "our youth's in charge" correlates with the end of the world as we know it..God forbid I'm given a chance cuz God knows I'll fuckin' blow it..I wish we were exposed to everything..some people are..that's probably why they choose the bible over a wedding ring..I don't think I'm meant to hear heaven sing cuz I'm not heaven sent..I'm more important that's why I see hell bound in my coordinates for my accordance's .. unfortunately, this world was created and I was just born in it.. hats off to my parents for their "big bang"..folks and their allure to folklore or folks and their feasible theories..big family,too..a series..that's the even exchange when the world is a thing you want to change..This is serious though, I can't help but to think that parties are better off promoting voting for only green presidents..it's pitiful to believe that being political is critical..I just think the sentinel is going to throw us all in the hole in the earth that Deftones mentioned in their mentioning's..and again, don't take any of this into consideration..unsure of the absurd but this is just me bloggin' off the noggin..rantings and etc.'s are vital to survival..you on the other end of them..egh, not so much..I'm done..totally open to judgement..fire at will..don't expect me to flinch either! ha ha<br />
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Johnathon Michael Espinoza:<div class="blogger-post-footer">Facebook | Johnathon Michael
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Johnathon Michael Espinoza: threeak@yahoo.com<br />
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I'm here again. In fear for my life only because he's at the verge of his. How selfish of me. Nobody can rekindle this light. Not that I know of. Many "suggest" that I pray. But I don't think my faith will determine his fate. Therefore, I wait. Unresponsive on a potential death bed. Pricked and tossed by the messengers that act so nonchalant and speak so reckless. That's always the opinion of the loved ones party I presume. I'd like to think he knew it was me that clinched his cold feet when I did. Was it wrong that I pictured them in an open casket? Could be. Your mind races and your stomach knots when your stressed I suppose. I felt like vomiting even before I got here. I asked for food earlier not for any other excuse I gave but for the simple fact that I was still a little light headed. Intoxicated, what have you. I kind of felt bad for not answering my brothers phone call last night. I just thought he was up late and thinking. He likes to include me in his thought processes from time to time. Especially weekends, he rambles. Mostly because he's so busy during the week. You know, having a full time girlfriend and a 9 to 5. The main reason I didn't answer is because I see him as a father figure. Answering drunk is bad for business. Family business. And not to mention the pussy I was about to get. I should have key worded that as "unmentionable". That would be clever. What if the God forbidden would have happened and I was wrapped up in. In. The unmentionable. I would have felt like shit. Well, even worse than I already do. I was awaken by my friend. So I rolled opposite of her and got dressed. He spoke of the scolding he was in for because he had the work truck his brother was suppose to take this morning. I spoke of the news I just received from my younger sisters phone call. I walked out of the waiting room because I don't want to share this pity party with the outside family. His immediate family. Those roots were never really deep. Doesn't matter. I've already burdened myself with digging those right up. I just want it to be me and my immediate family there. His girlfriend. Fine. They have a baby together so its understandable. Cold shoulders and stale kisses to them. Keep the peace due to the circumstances but don't test me. I'm on edge its expected. I'd rather listen to the chaos of strangers in a half empty room then sit in a silent room full of fakes. I don't know or care how I look in front of anybody right now. I have my dark shades on inside because I don't want them to see the pain in my eyes. My baby brother answered my call right after he answered my mothers. I wish I would have got to him first. He's a cold hearted little fucker. But we all are. To a certain extent. A realist, if you will. I imagine he'd have to be drug to the funeral. If necessary. The funeral. I pictured the gathering with a masterpiece I painted of him as the center of attention. The prints/paintings in this place are glorious. The long halls are full of them. I imagine it would be pretty depressing without the pretty things. I wanted to paint one for me too. Of him. But this one would have him with his eyes open and the tubes still in with bandages as well. It would be a powerful piece. The dry blood sprinkles the nurses act like they didn't notice. Just another patient, huh? I remember thinking this before I touched him. Ironically my peripherals lead me to his wrist band which I noticed said, Unknown. Never mind what it meant. Just mind the fact that, that could be devastating to a person such as myself. Though, I'm probably the only one that caught that. Just looking for other reasons to look at life from a downer's point of view. I guess people do that when your in a situation as such. So negative. Like my mother. It kind of hurt to watch her lip quiver as she asked to join in prayer for the chance that he might be able to hear. I told her I didn't want to. I folded my arms. Not in reverence, not in rebellion, not because the chills. Because it matched the furrow of my brow, my thoughts, my anger. I'm still jittery. That coffee really hit me. Even though it sucked. Nobody gets coffee at Jack in the Box. What the fuck. There was even a fine ass light skinned black lady who questioned our motives through friendly conversation. My sisters and I. I joked about her flirting with me as we pulled away and watched her float across the parking lot. With her Coach purse, green pants, sandles, big shades, etc. Hops in a Range Rover. Lucky passenger. Why isn't this t.v. On? Maybe they don't know which channel to put it on. Majority rule says Telemundo. Makes sense to put on the news at least. But that would be even more depressing don't you think. Don't you? That foam sanitizer is so tempting. Especially when there's a little drip hanging. I'd think it would have evaporated by now. This obese lady, whom I'm sure was previously eating, attacked it earlier. She handled it like a Cool Whip bottle. Ha. I keep looking over my right shoulder to see if anybody comes looking for me. Somebody I don't want to be. At the beginning of this sentence I see one of the fakes entering the elevator. Think he seen me? Egh. Who gives a hoot. I kind of want to go back to my sisters and mother. Because I'm bored. And these thick accents and shitty food smells are lingering. You would think you'd want to eat healthier given the location. Okay. They're here. Ttyl.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Facebook | Johnathon Michael
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splish,splash, spill the thrill dudette feel the chill..like me duette, do it..like a tsunami they leak in..paryers to Japain..its a tornado they speak in..my heart rate is an earthquake..at peace is our handshake..a fluster of brilliance just made way to both cheeks of my brain..your mouth is an ass..inspration is this particular jaw jackers alius..me and this fucker go way back..well lets just say without him they'd,you'd, pay me less..I say they as if your not here..I mean you..yes you..dont touch me please..go back to your binoculars..couch crothch..your touch tingles my spine divine..just like mine, in my quiet time..it resmbles mine..hella, damn pervert..what day is it again?..i enjoy scraping talleys on the cloth walls with broken glass..me and my demons will show you how this time..stay in your corner..well..you cant count them cuz the cotton guts make it difficult..but hey..its the thought that counts..don't mention it..DON'T MENTAL IT!..studder, sturdy minded..I don't mind it..wink, wink, repeat wink..then I hold up a flash card I pull from my boxers that says,"laugh with me"..you catch a glimpse of the back as I shove it crinkled back into my jewels..familiar familia..it was scratched out with pen so you didn't know what to make of it..delerious you are.."delirious she is", I whisper to inspiration..p.s. the other no name demons went back the way they came and left just as fast as they came..hand me downs..what an extremely odd way to pass time..we think to ourselves cuz we are one now..siamese..bloody knees..prayers only reach the atmosphere..I take off my jacket and show you an etched in prison tat on my pale back flesh..it symbolizes a bond thats not meant to be broken..yeah i know it looks just like three sixes..subtract it all and you end up with the toll it takes on me..but your not looking close enough and I doubt the lighting in here would help your perception of me..sinister..ugh..youll never understand..no wait come back please..I'm not mad..here is my puppy dog face..my tongues out and im panting..I look rediculous for you..I'm worth nothing you know that right..I have that right..I'm dont playing around..lets go party..have you met your maker?..ill introduce you in a funeral setting..matrimony is holy between ya'll..a wedding..ooh! can not, whilst waiting, you'll get along just fine..if I can juuuuuust..find..aha here it be..this little Sherlock mystery of mine..I pull from behind your ear a blah blah old days century key..how observant are we..but we still leave out the shattered only way window way to go..tell me where your going and ill follow you..i hope its dark..natural habitat..I cling to it..habitually..idea..lets get lost finding serenity in your virginity..jk..unless your gonna do it?..be that as it may..leave me where I lay..please yourself..ill recline on the oak and peek your stroak..damn bitch, what were you thinking..regrets a puddle of sperm you know..your ovaries are oysters..nothing new but that you knew..have you seen my art..hug me till I fart..I heard that somewhere..I took up that dare..camoflauge I wear when I go out wandering..I always walk too long..deyhderation, my death bed of healthy roses..shame I shit and ponder I vomit..I get so mixed up like an omelette..finest meal of the day perhaps, dont you think..well? dont you think?..your not hardly the person I use to know, you know..I say that to say this..this is me holding my breadth.. -__-'a.k.a. sleepy face..It's a fact..I Googled it..shadows make me shady..right slim? ..die out, fly out ya feel me homie..the end. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--Jg_9Ti1Af0/TXqru2_5vfI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/enmswk_mXx8/s1600/165766_195016110513080_124129947601697_808700_4826546_n%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" q6="true" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--Jg_9Ti1Af0/TXqru2_5vfI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/enmswk_mXx8/s320/165766_195016110513080_124129947601697_808700_4826546_n%255B1%255D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Por Fin.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Johnathon Michael Espinoza: threeak@yahoo.com</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Facebook | Johnathon Michael
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Johnathon Michael Espinoza: threeak@yahoo.com<div class="blogger-post-footer">Facebook | Johnathon Michael
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The tides have changed dramatically, I'm only expected to be someone untouchable, I don't know if I'm suppose to seclude myself in order to make this happen, but apparently that's exactly what the fuck has happened, I can't complain for the troubles that hold hands with my struggles, they always end up building me higher then they've torn me down, despite that, shit it still takes toll on me and wears me out from my insides out, and you can really tell like it's your own word of mouth. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vY67aOxlhtE/TCPNqyoRpgI/AAAAAAAAAJU/Tcs75TH7vOw/s1600/DSC08374.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vY67aOxlhtE/TCPNqyoRpgI/AAAAAAAAAJU/Tcs75TH7vOw/s320/DSC08374.JPG" /></a></div> Time is of the essence, I'm obligated to make some crucial moves, I've made a few, now I'm very happy and excited about where my life is headed, even though I don't always approve of the person who led it, fuck it though, I'm still in my ways cuz I'm instilled in my ways, you can say it's embedded, success is mandatory even if I don't want it, It's a part of my characteristics, my demeanor, personality, If I'm not able to obtain it, my last request is to exchange that finger for a gaut, point it to my face and blame it.<br />
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Johnathon Michael Espinoza: threeak@yahoo.com<div class="blogger-post-footer">Facebook | Johnathon Michael
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Johnathon Michael Espinoza: <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="-moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; background: yellow none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">threeak</span>@yahoo.com<div class="blogger-post-footer">Facebook | Johnathon Michael
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Johnathon Michael Espinoza: threeak@yahoo.com<div class="blogger-post-footer">Facebook | Johnathon Michael
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Johnathon Michael Espinoza: threeak@yahoo.com<div class="blogger-post-footer">Facebook | Johnathon Michael
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Johnathon Michael Espinoza: threeak@yahoo.com<div class="blogger-post-footer">Facebook | Johnathon Michael
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">I have a few days left in this nameless town. I can hold my chin in the air when I say I have accomplished what I came for. Because the reason I did come here is to find out why I came here. What was I running away from? What were my intentions with a grandmother I don't have the best relationship with and a grandfather I don't know at all? I like to think everything I do will ripple upon the influences to the people closest to me. This black and white era of my life was surely predestined. I always knew I wanted to get away and what a great opportunity it would put before me. This experience has allowed me to step outside this large box and get a peek at my life and pinch of the world I'm missing out on. I came here to look for some kind of closure to the past in search of a door for my future. I certainly was not going to open a door sitting on my ass. Not that I do. I have gotten far in a short span of time. I'm proud of that yet still modest for I know I could have done more. I know I will eat myself alive if I dwell on the "what if's". I just take what life gives me and run with it. I don't do a lot of shit for the glory or compliments, acknowledgment or money. I put every ounce of energy I have into my art because it is my god given talent and I would be a fool not to use it to make an impact on the world to it's intended potential. I simply look at the things I previously listed as markers, as to where I came from and where I'm headed. And all I hope for is that I leave an everlasting impression in the sands of time, my legacy means the world to me. I want to be spoken of highly from prideful forgiving mouths of all ages. I want people to over hear that conversation and feel the urge to butt in, just to get a feeling of warmth knowing that they aren't the only one who I have impacted. That's what the fuck I want. I want a moment of silence for bittersweet reminiscence. I want that tingle on the spine, whisper in the ear, awkward eye contact, sugar on the tongue sensation when my name is merely uttered amongst a chaotic crowd. Yeah, I want it that deep. Now is the time to make this happen. Even through all the hardships and teary eyed agony I've prevailed I like to think it was preparing me for what lied ahead. And if not. I'll make it be worth something because I have to power to do so. I see this as my second coming. The world has wondered aimlessly without my guidance long enough. I'll stay true to my work and my sheep will follow.<br />
</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Facebook | Johnathon Michael
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vY67aOxlhtE/S1URzs0MNaI/AAAAAAAAAGw/rf7gSwZgnlY/s1600-h/baby048_edited.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vY67aOxlhtE/S1URzs0MNaI/AAAAAAAAAGw/rf7gSwZgnlY/s320/baby048_edited.JPG" /></a><br />
</div> I guess my biggest fear is loving somebody with all I have to offer. I can't imagine loving a soul as much as I love art. I don't think it possible to have enough room in my heart. This passion i share with my art in no less than a teeth grinding obsession. Without a tool to express myself besides my god given utensils attached to my body theirs a nervous twitch. An ache in my bosom that desperately seeks a cure for this. All this attention to one being may put me in a mad house. It's my gift and my curse. My life and my hearse. I now understand why Van Gogh gave his ear. He knew nothing else to offer but something of equal value to her. The love that burns inside of me is not of human nature. So I must conceal it and flush it upon my canvas and papers hoping that nobody understand what I mean by them, or that I mean them. I pray their is a place beyond this world for a person of my nature. Where sacrificing any amount of flesh for someone I love will not be looked upon as disgust. In Jesus Christ sweet suicide he gave his whole body for us. I'd give it all for my art only to please people who have no fucking understanding for the things I do and say. Fuck you. I love you. All in the same energy. I carry the deepest hate and the most loving love. Just as my art expresses. I churn your thoughts with evil depictions and happy colors to cover the inhumane and like guineas you accept it because only hypocrites would reject it. Anger and evil is as much in us buried away as love and kindness is upon our surface. We are made off all the energy around us. Only a fool would deny. Art is an excuse for getting away from the norm and getting away with anything. So I leave you with this, whatever your thoughts may be. Fuck you, I'm an artist.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Facebook | Johnathon Michael
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">....in my mind i am a God..the almighty creator of everything that is</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">angelic and demonic alike..to speak evil against my art is blasphemy..i</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">endure being shunned because when the latter days draw near i will take</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">my throne from the poser's that dare to hold my title..then i will show</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">the world that i am worthy of the name of that which i am given by</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">showing the work of my hands..but till this day i will watch from afar</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">and bless the few that believe in me and my words and the miracles of</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">my work with my art..so it might seem as if you are among few but i see</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">your good will and by the thousands shall others stand in your defense</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">for they will be made believers in due time..i leave u with these words</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">my angel..you have your wings.</span> <br />
</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Facebook | Johnathon Michael
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</div> Hmm..let's see. It's so different here. Some people wouldn't believe I made the move. Then again they do. With me the unpredictable is the predictable. Lol! I sound like an arrogant bastard. I'll let you be the judge. I tell people: me and my art are one in the same, so whatever is said about my art, is the only way I can be explained. This way people can look at my art and know a little bit about me. After all, their are shards of me embedded in the code your mind is attempting to crack. I try to the best of my ability to allow people to talk and explain their ideas of my art. We don't know ourselves as much as we would like to. Maybe some strangers words can depict me precisely and I'm not being receptive to it and I pass up an opportunity to change my life forever. In the same sense, I like to let them ramble in their own universe about what they perceive about my art before i say a word. It intrigues me greatly. Everybody's minds work different. If they relate to it in a way that I can not explain then the piece may play a huge role in their life. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. That doesn't mean all the words your hearing are the same as mine. I've been sketching in only ink. Black and white. That's how I see my life at this point. Make a fucking decision and stick to it. Forget the gray shades for now. I'm my own guinea pig. I have nothing to lose. Everything is going to effect my art in a different way, but none of my experiences will alter my talent. Oh, but I love color. I have the habit of turning the darkest most demonic art into angelic colorful art. It really fucks with your mind. I want to sneak the offensive into your mind where you accept it because the colors make you feel differently then your eyes want you to see. They gasp over the black and white sketches but their eye balls shall vomit at the sight of them colored. I can't wait!<br />
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Johnathon Michael Espinoza: threeak@yahoo.com<div class="blogger-post-footer">Facebook | Johnathon Michael
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</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> The more i sketch, the more i find out about myself. My time in Arkansas has become somewhat of a meditation. I isolate myself from all outer influences by locking myself in a room with only my sketchbook as an outlet for communication. I talk to my art as if it were another person in the room that I have never met. In seeking the deepest most unconscious thoughts I begin to figure how much I really don't know myself. This can't be me. Oh, but it is. I often stress myself out thinking of how i can get better and what more can i do. Always thinking of the next step. This is when I realize I need to slow down and look at the steps I missed and cherish them as well because they too played a role in getting me where I am now. I surround myself with positive, loving, supportive people and they uplift me in a way I could never do myself. Their is a difference between doing art and LOVING art! </span><br />
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Johnathon Michael Espinoza: threeak@yahoo.com<div class="blogger-post-footer">Facebook | Johnathon Michael
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