In my own mind.

I will never be able to understand the mind of a writer.
I thought I was a writer. Once upon a time.
But I am really a complete nobody.
A self encompassing disease and detriment to the purity and nature of earth.
I am a failure.

Writers are inspired by adversity and a willingness to overcome defeat.
But not me. Because I'm not a writer.

Disheartening as a broken relationship that was never meant to be, today I lost all sight of positivity.
When I think about it, there should not have been any positivity in the first place.

Why am I even thinking about first place?
Last place is the only place. If any place.

To have a place you have to have a destination.
A journey to nowhere is what my life is based on.

I won't even call it a base. Nothing is holding onto me. I am floating in a sea of no purpose.

Is it the way I eloquently place these words together that makes me who I am?
There I go using the word place again.


I have to use words because that is the only way I can paint my world.
Don't worry about an array of colors. I only care about blue.
One language. One color. One man.

I will never find my place because I want to be everywhere.
I want to be a part of you. And you. And even you.

I am as flawed and I am grand.
Actually more flawed than grand. But I'm working on it. Progress is infinite.

My voice echos in my room because it is empty.
It is lifeless. Myself included. Life is only as valuable as you make it.
I just haven't done anything with mine.

I am a writer after all.
In my own mind at least.

Save the last word

Hypersexualized. Hyperadvertised. Hyperdissatisfaction.

Prefixed and suffixed to oblivion, English in its infinite glory can not always depict the fullness of the human condition.

I am bound by it.

It is art in the form of words. Form itself is limited. I inform the uninformed.
Vagueness is a strand that hangs as I redefine the Self.

Humble is meaningless to the narcissism I am born with.

One less mind to fill. Bottomless and unable to withstand the rush of flowing data.

Destinations as pointless as the fresh pencil. But the journey is incomplete.
Will it end?

Outlet of expression.

I hate myself to the point that I want to become invisible.
But I live on. Off is never a good look. And my 20/20 vision is all I have.

This is the song that never ends. Five thousand minutes of endless chorus.
No one is willing to make it stop. And my ears cannot be covered.

Guilt trip is only one way. No need for ticket authorization. Or bag checks.
I'm already there.

Welcome to Lost. I can find myself. But It's all fake.

Erase the permanent damage as the impossibility becomes a loop of failure.

A tear in the Matrix like a tear on my face. Words are meaningless without a direction.

I have no where to go. But stopping would be all too easy in this life of hard.

Wherefore does my glory go?

Season two of the compelling television series that is The Life At Hunter College is in full force.

Many new and interesting things have happened this semester but one thing seems to stay the same: Angel is killing EVERY class. Just give me another 3.8 right now and let me move on with my life.

Trip to Puerto Rico anyone? Lmao! PSYCHE!!!

While my academic dominance continues to grow steadily, my value on the heterosexual marketplace is nothing short of lack luster.

But that's another sad story for another sad day.

And a sad day it sure is.

It is the first day of the MLB Playoffs and my beloved New York Yankees are absent like Sarah Palin at a PETA conference.

At least she's hot right? That counts for something in this country.

In other news, my mother tossed around the idea of putting my brother in Catholic School.

I shot that idea down faster than Sarah Palin shot...never mind.

I don't want to write anymore. I'm too tired.

Don't forget to tune into my show.
It airs Monday to Friday from 9 AM to 3 PM Eastern.

Out!

A Liberating Force

I feel like it was only yesterday...

The World Wide Web was in its infancy and Windows 95 computers as bulky as our technological imagination could handle were dominating the market.

A time when America Online was cool and chat rooms were legitimate sources of live human interaction.

The web was such a magical place. Restricted in its capabilities, but magical nonetheless.

As the PC became an everyday household machine, a symbiotic relationship was established.

The development of the Internet was dependent on the evolution of the personal computer. And simultaneously, the development of the personal computer was reflective of the evolution of the Internet.

Today, the thought of using a computer with no Internet access drives me insane.

I guess that’s just me.

Before the complex and open source World Wide Web of the 21st century was established, the concept of creating a personal website was limited to a selected few gifted computer engineers who were technologically savvy enough to understand the Hypertext Markup Language or HTML that everyone uses today.

But like every other technological limitation before it, creating a website became as simple as ever before and soon EVERYONE wanted their own website.

The World Wide Web became a virtual watering hole of information.

It meshed races, countries, values, and endless possibility all into a colorful graphical user interface on your computer screen.

But no value is more important to me than the first amendment.

A staple of the democratization of the Internet, blogging has fused our freedom of speech with the World Wide Web to create a three dimensional force of liberation.

Blogging allows for users to write and exchange any ideas that they want.

Unlike print newspapers or magazines, whose writers are limited to grammatical and structural guidelines, blogging is not restricted to any standards of writing or content.

I see my blog as more than a place to spew the random ideas floating in my mind.

My blog is a tribute to the freedoms that I have been privileged to acquire.

A symbol of democracy in its purest form.

A desire to share information and ideas with an audience that has only been made possible with the advent of the Internet.

A gift to my readers for without you my blog serves little purpose.

And ultimately, I hope that my blog will serve as a contribution to the vast and ever growing force of liberation that can only be made possible with the great minds of this planet earth.

Ask yourself: What does your blog mean to you?

If I can...

Selected few I have selected you, This is true,
I dispute to dispute, I just spew, What to do?
Repent the suicidal sentences, Revoke my sixth sense again,
Current like water and electric fences, No eclectic invention,
Toss and turn every night, You're the new bright light,
In my life, Through the peace, Through the fights,
I got no one left, But it feels so right,
Darkness and sunshine, So bright that I feel blind,
I feel time, Slipping away, But I rewind and redefine,
What it means to be I, And what it means to be you,
For only you can see through, See true, Reality needs you,
But really who are these people? They eat and deceive you,
But evil defeats fools, The wise stay on top,
While the demons creep through,
Too easy to give up, When the weakness feeds you.

Can I just have one more?

Well boys and girls, tomorrow marks the beginning of the end.

End of what, you ask?

End of the 2008 summer.

I can hear the universal sigh of disappointment as the youth of America gather in a collective monotone of rhythmic reality.

Sunday, September 14th, 2008 is the start of the last full week of this beloved season.

But how can it be? It was May 25th like two weeks ago... Where the hell did summer go?

I know where my summer went.
It went all over the place and I spent most of the time trying to piece it together.

If I learned anything this summer it is that life is only as short as you want it to be.

The obsession with "what if" and "what could be,"
conflicts with one's current state of being--''what is."

Our inability to appreciate what is actually in front of us is what makes life feel short and pointless.

We like to measure the quality of our life with a word that no one can really define; success.

Just by embedding the term success into your everyday psyche, the once limitless possibilities turn into a cookie cutter model for superficial achievements.

We love those step-by-step check lists that tell us exactly what we have to do to become successful. And why wouldn’t we. We are LAZY!!!

But I can’t blame you, for I too was once a victim of the cookie cutter model.

Eventually, I found that cookie cutters are best for making cookies, not making futures.

Enjoy your last week of summer boys and girls, I am OUT!

In A Daze

It was hard to look out of my window tonight and not notice the two giant blue beams of light standing in the location where the World Trade Center one hailed. The view from my 16th story apartment was quiet clear, and although the Twin Towers were monumental in captivating the depth of capitalism and pride, the luminescence of the identical lights seemed to have an infinite path, much more significant than any corporate achievement or international trade agreement.

A color that is ubiquitous with sorrow and despair, blue is also the color of the ocean and the mid afternoon sky. Nature in its purest form is always indifferent to the atrocities that are prevalent in the human race. This dichotomy is most relevant in terms of the significance of these blue beams of hope. It would only make sense that there are two of them.

As the country embarks on the 7 year anniversary of the day that the world would forever change, and the word terrorism became a part of everyday speech, it is somewhat astounding to me that it has been that many years since the attacks on September 11th, 2001.

It is a day that I will never forget. That no one will ever forget.

As a native of the borough of Manhattan, the aftereffects of this horrific day are magnified on a much grander scale. I cannot walk into my local train station without seeing the all too common sign that says, "If you see a suspicious package please call this number." And I would have never imagined that I would become desensitized to seeing military officers holding machine guns at the subway entrance. And you can't forget about the all important random MTA bag checks. A concept that was completely unheard of before September 11.

There is no hiding the fact that we're living in a new world. The fabric of our nationalistic innocence was ripped apart in a single day. And it is becoming extremely difficult to sew it back together.

And yet, call me extremely naive if you must, but I do not walk around fearing the potential of a catastrophic disaster hitting my home town once again. I feel confident that I can live my life without the limitations that fear places on one's sense of liberty. But at the same time I have a sufficient amount of self awareness to acknowledge that I am living in a dangerous city in a dangerous world.

Maybe my whole life is a dichotomy of blue and I just don't know it...

One More Time

August 12th, 2008.

I knew it would come, but I didn't think it would be so soon. It is the final night of my vacation in Puerto Rico. A bittersweet endeavor, to say the least.

I believe that my life is an encyclopedia of symbolism. An unscripted, unrehearsed, unedited piece of art that can never be emulated.

Today, a new story was completed.

Each moment of realization was fertilization to the seed of wisdom that was planted before the summer began.

I traveled a thousand miles to find myself.
But the truth is, I was never lost in the first place.

I never would have thought that getting away from my life would have given me a greater appreciation for it. But it has.

Even more striking to me is that Puerto Rico, of all places, was where I acquired this nostalgic and appreciative state of being.

But despite all of that, today was still an emotional day for me.

It was only fitting that as I walked back to my grandmother's house for possibly the final time, the dark and heavy clouds formed as rain poured down on my body.

But then I looked up at the dark sky.
And I saw a beautiful rainbow.
Bright and vibrant as it stood apart from the rest of the sky.

A ray of hope. A rainbow of hope, I should say.

A summer of excitement, adversity, discovery, love.
It was a little bit of everything.

But I want a lot of everything. I want everything of everything.

I am not coming back to New York to start a new life.

The way I see it, every time I wake up it's new life.

I want it all in the new life. But it starts with a rainbow over the clouds.

Get your prescription to fit your description

You have to love the modern day outfit of the urban teenager.

Shirt...$ 29.99
Jeans...$ 59.99
Sneakers...$ 139.99
T-Mobile Sidekick...$ 299.99

...wait...what?

Sidekick?

This groundbreaking and highly addictive communication device has become more than a fashion statement. It's a way of life. And for some people, it's their only life.

As a teenager growing up in the culture mecca that is New York City, I've seen fads come and go as frequently as the 4 train at my local Union Square subway station.

Unfortunately, the Sidekick has held its own for the last six years, and I see no end in sight.

T-Mobile, the company who is responsible for the sales and distribution of the Sidekick, has mastered the art of teenage marketing, and has turned the Sidekick into one of the highest selling mobile devices of the 21st century.

As a mobile phone enthusiast myself, I have to admit that the sleek look and feel of the Sidekick is definitely one of its biggest attributes. Actually, now that I think about it, that is the only thing that I truly like about this communication tool. Technologically speaking, it fails in comparison to other devices in its price range, and against devices which are significantly more cost efficient.

Why, then, is the Sidekick so popular with teenagers ?

One reason is that many of the young consumers of the Sidekick are not technologically sound, and their purchase was simply influenced by a marketing tactic known as the bandwagon effect. The bandwagon effect is when a potential consumer is drawn to the product simply because everyone else has it. When it comes to teenagers, this method is by far the most effective.

Despite the superficial nature of the American teenager, they still value some basic features that can be discovered on this device. The most well known, and heavily over used feature is, of course, the texting. Walk down any New York City street and I am sure that you will find one or two of these young adventurers looking down at their two and a half inch screen, while typing away at 100 words per minute. Ah, what it is to be young and naive. Gotta love it.

AOL Instant Messenger is the program of choice for these young ones. If you don't have an AIM screen name you must live on another planet. Or at least another side of the country. AOL has a stronghold on the east coast instant messaging market and it has been that way for over a decade. Together, the Sidekick and AIM have revolutionized the basic yet essential instant message.

I would like to the think of the Sidekick as an urban fad -- something very over saturated, irrelevant, and hopefully should go away really fast. But it hasn't.

What has bred my distaste for this seemingly cool device? I will be glad to let you in on it.

I know many teens who own a Sidekick, and over the years I've observed their addiction to it, and how it has affected their lives.

The main reason that I dislike the Sidekick is because teenagers love to spew their personal dilemmas, and make their lovers and enemies known to the world on their away messages. I really don't care if you miss your boyfriend, you're watching a movie with your best friend, or that you hate Janet because she's jealous of you. As a matter of fact, no one cares. You're just not that important.

Away messages provide for a back and forth ping pong of insults, shout outs, and an overall accelerated form of confrontation. But for some reason this phenomena of away message nonsense seems to be significantly more prevalent with Sidekick owners than computer users. I have personally witnessed teenage girls fighting over an away message statement that stirred controversy within their social circle. This is ridiculous and ludicrous to say the least.

Teens feed off of their popularity, and the Sidekick just provides another method of filtering out the people who are just not worthy of the social limelight. Whatever that may be.

I can go on forever with this but I will end my rant here.

The Sidekick is a horrible device, and while I understand why it is very popular to a certain demographic, I wish it would just roll over and die as soon as possible.

Teenagers are infatuated with confrontation and the Sidekick has fabricated a more technologically sophisticated, but still immature, form of it.

Enough already. Put down your Sidekicks and pick up a newspaper.

Maybe the next time you say "OMG" is because you actually read something worth reading.

Dear Mama ?

"My mother couldn't show me where my manhood was. You need a man to teach you how to be a man."

Surely Tupac Shakur, the greatest lyrical force to ever walk this earth, didn't express this revealing statement if he didn't mean it.

But what does this mean to me?

Well as a man trying to find his manhood, it means a whole lot.

There is no hiding the truth that I have involuntarily become a statistic.

Just another child living in just another single parent household with just another minority mother.

I have plenty of friends, mentors, advisers, and heroes.

My mother is my number one in all of those categories.

But there is no connection that can ever emulate that of the father and son.

Or at least that's what I hear. I have no idea what that feels like. It sounds nice though.

Stability is one of the single most fulfilling and enjoyable aspects of childhood.

And for most of mine, that was completely non existent.

Sure I had a step father or two, whatever that means.

And once in a while their presence was just what I needed to fill the irreparable and gaping void that a certain man created.

But my mother was just that, my mother.

She taught me that if I believe in something then the possibilities are infinite.
She taught me that women are the most precious and gentle souls on this earth.
She taught me that if I wanted something I had to work extremely hard for it and never give up.
She taught me that I have to thank God every day for giving me the strength to wake up every morning.

Just kidding about that last one.

Hooray mom for not contaminating my brain with stories of invisible space ghosts who grant wishes when I read their encyclopedia of poison and Harry Potter spells...I mean the Holy Bible.

Mom I want to thank you for everything you've done in my life.

I wouldn't be the man that I am today if it wasn't for you.

When I'm scared you make me feel safe.

When I'm nervous you make me feel confident.

When I'm lost you make the path clear again.

There is no one who will ever be able to replace you. Ever.

And I love you for that.

We've been through some chaotic times over the last 20 years of my life, but we've made it out alive. So far.

I guess one of the most important life lessons of manhood is that you have to overcome adversity.

Even if that means learning it through trial and error. And errors I surely have made.

Note to the dads of the world: Don't let your child become another number on a graph.

They can turn you into a number as well.

You can be the #1 Dad...minus 1.

What about yours?

In my world the grass is not greener on the other side.

In my world there is nothing somewhere over the rainbow.

In my world the glass isn't half empty, it's completely empty.

Limited bliss and individually dispirited.
Mysterious lyricist seeks clearance from persistent demons of hysteria.
Spewing sadistic misconceptions of intellectual acceptance.
Reflection of the interconnected oppressed and distressed.

In my world the yellow light means go faster.

In my world tomorrow isn't only a day away.

In my world if you don't succeed try and try something else.

It doesn't really matter.

At the cusp of euphoria my emotions fall short.
Expectations short lived and my self fulfilling prophecies burn holes in my elongated soul.
Miles of life already tread as ineptitude conquers over experience.

The journey is never ending and the it doesn't stop here. Or anywhere.
I am nonstop.
The legacy I've spent my years developing is far from complete.

The series of my existence is barely into Volume II.
Volume is what I use to express my never ending sorrow. My hope. My dreams.

But for now I am a mute in a world of noise.
Can anyone hear me?
I can't even hear myself speak.

Out of body experiences have become a commonality.
But my body and mind are forever connected.

I feel what I am not supposed to feel.

I see what I am not supposed to see.

My 20/20 vision will never be able to see what my heart can see.

I am blind to the truth. But only for now.

Looking for the perfect beat?

The instrumental of my life is rooted in my identity.
...After all, I'm not that good when I flow Acappella anyway.

My identity does not define me. I define my identity.

On the surface, my identity is no different than the ocean's edges. Blue. Shallow. Mysterious.

It isn't until one dives deep into the core of purpose that the true virtue appears.

The crafting of one's identity is an art form. And there is no such thing as "finishing touches."

Identity is infinite. Endless.

Nevertheless, the development of one's identity is always being influenced by previous life experiences.

I would say my identity, metaphorically speaking, is more of a giant race track than a straight line.

My past influences my present, which influences my future. It is a cycle of life lessons.

And I mold my identity accordingly.

Do not let the smooth blue waves and nice breeze fool you.

My intellectual density has the capacity to captivate the psyche of anyone.

No matter how deep you dive into me, I and only I, will be able to uncover the mysterious nature of my identity.

I am a man. I am an ocean of wisdom. I am looking for the perfect beat.

One In A Million...

I take pride in being the best role model that I possibly can be.

Whether it be for my peers in college. Or my little brother at home. Or the countless other little brothers that I have at my job at the Boys Club Of New York.

I'm being constantly observed, imitated, and praised. And I like it.

I'm me. And there is no one else who can ever be me. Sorry to break the news so hard.

Deal with it.

But as I become more influential in the lives of others, I can only stop and look back at the people who've made a difference in my life.

I've been on this earth for over two decades now, and the autobiography that is my life, is hardly finished.

Lucky for you readers, this blog provides portions of that wonderful story.

Greatness is a magical and unexplainable entity, and it is very rare.

Greatness is what everyone wants to discover.

There are no treasure maps, or X's that mark the spot. None of that.

But when someone makes a difference in my life, I know that it is Greatness.

I know Greatness when I see it.

I learn from Greatness what I can not learn from any one else. That's just the way it is.

Greatness does not make guest appearances.

Nor does it walk around with a sign that says "Greatness Here!"

Sometimes Greatness is discovered by accident or when one is not even looking for it.

With the power to change the hearts, bodies, and minds of humanity, the world needs Greatness.

I can't get enough of it. I thrive off of achieving it. I live for it. I die for it. I crave it.

I want you to see the Greatness in my eyes. When I walk. When I talk. When I enter the room.

I'm everywhere. Can you feel me now?

Gotta Catch 'Em All...

Every once in a while I like to break into my childhood time chamber and bring back something that I really shouldn't have.

Today I went back to 1999 and resurrected my obsession with PoKeMoN.
Yeah I said it. PoKeMoN.

Big mistake? Oh well it's too late now.

Now I already know what you're going to say.
---> "Angel you're a giant geek." I know.

But for some reason I had a nagging desire to see PoKeMoN: The First Movie.

So what do you think I do when I have a nagging desire?

[LET ME GIVE YOU TIME TO THINK BY PUTTING THIS BAR HERE]
[AND THIS BAR]
[THIS ONE TOO]

TIMES UP...

Did you say suppress it?!?!

WRONG!

I act on it!

And I downloaded the wonderful movie. And I watched it in its entirety. No joke.

Now lets break this down.

Whats more embarrassing and laughable?

A.) Angel took the time to download PoKeMoN: The First Movie.
B.) Angel watched PoKeMoN: The First Movie in its entirety.
C.) Angel enjoyed PoKeMoN: The First Movie very much.
D.) All of the above.

Text your answer to 1-800-URA-JERK (Standard text message rates apply.)


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[SCROLL DOWN TO SEE THE ANSWER]

[SCROLL DOWN TO SEE THE ANSWER]

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If you voted A, you were wrong. As a matter of fact, if you voted at all you're wrong.

No you can't have your money back. I hope you have unlimited text messaging.

My blast from the past was not embarrassing, it was fun.

Maybe tomorrow I'll go all the way back to 1993 and watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Anyone wanna watch I Love The 90's with me?

You know you do stop lying...

What is love...

Good evening boys and girls.

I want to talk today about a little thing called Expectations.

This 12 letter word is filled with dreams, desires, and hopes to last a lifetime.

[0942] <- That counter goes up by one every time someone goes back and counts the letters to
see if "Expectations" has 12.

Don't ask me how it works. It's magic.

And don't ask me how 942 people already read my blog when I just posted this ten minutes ago. That's magic too..I think.

Stop distracting me, I'm trying to talk about Expectations.

So yeah, Expectations.

Dreams, desires, hopes, all that good stuff blah blah blah. Whatever that means.

I don't really like Expectations. They are an unnecessary psychological detriment. Sometimes.

And yet it is human
nature to Expect... certain things to take place.

[ English Lesson ]
Expect is the root word of Expectation
-ation is a dependent morpheme in the English Language
[ / English Lesson]

"I expect to get this job."
"I expect to get an A on this paper."
"I expect to get home safely."

Alright maybe that last one was a little too much. I sure as hell don't expect to be run over by a truck on my way home. But this cocky Manhattan nerd definitely expects an A on everything and anything.

Expectations create disappointment when they are not reached, and they create temporary happiness when achieved.

But is it really worth it?

In the end everyone is going to set Expectations for themselves because it makes them feel good about their situations. And who doesn't like that right?

Ultimately...I have no idea what I'm talking about. And you probably don't either. It's been a long day. I need some sleep.

Boom Outta Here. [ / Jim Rome ]

I come back like Jordan wearing the 4 5...

I know what you're going to say...
"Damn Angel where the hell have you been the last month."

I know. I get it.

Sorry, I was busy enjoying my life. Give me a break.

But back to important stuff. (Note: In reality, everything I say is important stuff, I'm just trying to keep your mind off of me not posting for a month. Just go along with it for today. Thanks.)

Its the first week of summer. Yay. Who cares?
Me.
Why should you care?
Because.

Now...
Where was I...
Oh yeah! Summer!

This is going to be my third summer since graduating high school, and third summer since I moved back to Manhattan from Puerto Rico.

The more I think about summer vacation, the more I begin to embrace its value. No not because I'm free from textbooks and alarm clocks or mechanical pencils and double spaced essays. But because summer to my brain is what spring cleaning is to my apartment. A fresh start and a new outlook. Summer vacation is my New Year's Eve party. And it lasts three months. I come back fresh and better than ever.

[ cocky moment ]
Want proof?
See: My rising GPA.
Its not a fluke. Its fact.
[ / cocky moment ]

As this summer slowly creeps into fruition, my brain wanders constantly back in time and I find myself reminiscing on what was Summer 2007. What started off sluggishly; the Summer of 2007 was ultimately a period in my life filled with drama, emotion, love, hate, discovery, and many more juicy attributes. And I met one of the most amazing people in my entire life. (Yes I'm talking about you Miss Jerez) But this is far from a cry to bring back the past. No not at all.

My brother, a 13 year old art and media addict, asked me the other day, "Angel, if you had a time machine where would you go?" I immediately responded with, "I don't want to go back in time."

What is time anyway? A man made system of organizing the orbital movements of the moon and earth in conjunction with night & day and darkness & sunlight ? I don't know. Since I don't know what time is, I'm going to make a bold move and talk about time anyway. I'm brave.

BACK TO SUMMER 2007 NOW ------------->

My motivation for writing this blog was listening to the Lupe Fiasco song Cool. I discovered the magical sounds of Lupe Fiasco during this time (see there I go again talking about time) in the Summer of 2007. I have been a fan ever since.

I have a tendency to associate geographic locations and with the songs that I was listening to during my visits there. (Right Miss Gonzalez?)

And in this case it is no different.
Well maybe a little different.

Summer of 2007 will always be the Summer of Lupe Fiasco in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, but I think discovering this music provided a pathway of discovering my true identity and true reason for being on this earth.

I grew as a man and as a student of life's harsh realities. And don't worry, I took great notes.

(I still had mechanical pencils left over from the last semester.)

I don't want to say that I hope to acquire some new meaning of life during this summer, but I am definitely looking forward to what the next two months have in store for me. If I expect something to happen, then I am limiting the potential to have the best summer of my life. Which it might be. I really cant say yet.

What I can say is, this past year was simply amazing and it would not have been this amazing had it not been for the summer that preceded it. I met a number of new and influential people over the last 12 months. (You know I cant forget about you Miss Ramirez) And the 2008-2009 school year looks to be one of the most enjoyable ones that I've ever had.

What I'm trying to say is, take advantage of this time away from school, (if you have the privilege of doing so) and think about what you want to accomplish in the coming year. Lupe Fiasco says, "Life aint meant to come around twice. That's why I gotta get it right." Maybe I'm too young to know whats ultimately going to be right in my life, but if I don't take the chance I'm never going to find out. The pain of regret lasts longer than the hard lessons of taking big risks in big situations. Do what is right for you. Not what is right for everyone else.

Hi haters I'm back off Hiatus.

< / Kanye >

Yes boys, girls, and aliens of all ages. The artist formerly known as Angel has returned.
CORRECTION: The artist currently known as Angel has returned.

Spring is in the air. But it feels like summer. Literally. Physically. Psychologically. Every-ally.
And why does it feel like summer you might ask? SCHOOL IS OVAH. <- Not over but OVAH.

Yeah yeah yeah I know, I already talked about this in my last blog.

BUT! That was then and this is now.
I'm done "studying" for finals. I'm done "researching" for final papers. I'm done sitting on my ass all day without writing a blog. OOPS! Can I say ass on the internet? Well I just did. Get over it.

Week one of summer vacation: FINALIZED.
And what have I learned so far?
1)It's going to be hot outside. Really hot.
2)I am hot. Really hot. Not temperature hot, the other kind of hot. (Number 1 is about temperature hot, just in case you couldn't figure it out)
3)No matter how much effort I put in school, I'm always going to dominate and get good grades.
4)I am a cocky jerk. Why am I a cocky jerk? See: Number 3
5)I love myself. And everyone loves myself too.
6)I have a lot of hanging out to do before I leave to Puerto Rico.
7)I am excited about going to Puerto Rico.
8)I like talking about myself a lot. -> See: Every line beginning with "I."
9)I am just writing a number 9 so I can get to a number 10.
10)Thank you for taking the time to read number 10. It serves no purpose except to take away 30 seconds from your life that I will never give back.

< / Life Stealing >

you spin me right round baby right round...

As we go on...
We remember...
All the time we...
Had together...

What the hell am I talking about? I'm not graduating.

BUT!!!

Tomorrow is the last day of school. Hooray. Hoorah. Yay. Yah. And all those other words that show emotion, or lack there of.

Semester One At Hunter College: Complete. Kinda.

I feel like I passed level one of Super Mario Brothers without wasting a single live. I need to save up my lives because level two seems like its going to have a lot of tricky monsters, secret booby traps, and invisible walls that are going to try to bring me down.

And God knows [insert Laugh Out Loud sound effect here] the last thing I need is an obstacle that I can't jump over. There is no way I can use SuperMarioCheats.com to get more college credits or more A's.

Note: For all of you who actually checked if SuperMarioCheats.com was a real website ---> [Insert Laugh out Loud sound effect here]

Note part two: Now I am actually going to check if SuperMarioCheats.com is a real website --->
[Insert Laugh out Loud sound effect here even louder]

But in the mean time, I am going to be studying for the onslaught of final exams (okay so I only have three but who's counting anyway) that are coming my way within the next 10 days.

Was this semester the easiest? No.
Was this semester the funnest? No.
Was this semester the fastest? No.

Despite all of that, this semester was the most important of my three so far. My writing ability has made into a force to be reckoned with. And this A train is not making local stops. Actually, its not making any stops. Well except maybe to Puerto Rico. WHOOOHAAAH!!! Oh yeah!

I had very little sleep last night, and I feel washed up.

So I will leave you bloggies with a One Love and a Goodnight.

"Perception is Reality."

- Angel

Procrastination Nation I'm Your Patient.

So whats better than procrastinating on your English paper because you don't wanna write?

OOOH I KNOW!! Pick Me! Pick Me!

Lets write here instead. YAY!

Well summer vacation is rearing its ugly head again...

...STOP!!!....HOLD IT NOW!!!... < /Pharell>
( ^^^ You have to not only be technologically sound, but musically sound to understand that one. Right DC ??? ;D )

What am I saying??? Summer vacation is going to be AMAZING. How do I know, you ask? I just do. I'm like Nike. Just do it. Minus the shoe factories in Vietnam where people make $54 a month. Nike's are overrated anyway. But thats another story for another day.

Globalization anyone? No thanks I'm full.

I can not wait for summer vacation. Not only has school been a mental and physical grind for the last 4 months, but I'm tired of waking up early. It's as simple as that. I like sleep. And sleep likes me back. At least sometimes anyway.

Well students today is Mother's Day. The one day of the year where all you selfish and ungrateful sons and daughters stop and think about how much your mother actually means to you. I'm not going to lie. I used to be part of that group way back when.

But that was then and this is now.
(Oh great I sound like an R&B song about not taking my lover back.)

I will never make that mistake again.
(Now I sound like an R&B song about begging my lover to take me back.)

I'm being selfish aren't I? It's Mother's Day and I'm talking about made up R&B songs. Shame on me!!!

SNAP BACK TO REALITY!!! < /Eminem>

Mother. I love you. A lot. No really. I love you so much. I would not be where I am today if it wasn't for all of the things you've done for me. I know we've been through a whole lot of chaos and craziness these last 20 years, but it made me the man I am today. 20 years strong and I am never looking back. I used to feel like the world was over. But with you by my side, the world is my monopoly board and I can go anywhere I want if I roll the die and take a chance.

So I bid you farewell my blog buddies, as I have to continue writing my essay. But I want to wish my mother and every other mother in this monopoly board, I mean world, a very happy and peaceful and loving Mother's Day. I love you all. Good night.

do i need a hot intro track?

Food and Liquor stores rest on every corner from 45th and State to the last stand...

JUST KIDDING LUPE. FNF UP.

Alright enough about that.

Welcome boys and girls of all ages. My name is Angel and I will be your tour guide today. Well...I will be your tour guide today, tomorrow, and maybe even the next day. So sit tight, keep your hands away from the windows, and no flash photography. Unless of course you're taking a picture of me, that is. In case you haven't heard, I'm a 20 year old sophomore at Hunter College. Oh yes I love my Upper East Side people. THROW YA HANDS IN THE AIR!!! Actually, considering that Hunter College is smack dab in the middle of the wealthiest zip code in the United States, there aren't many of my hood people in sight, let alone people throwing up the EAST SIDE. Pressure?! Discomfort?! Nah. I get that dirt of my shoulders and lean back. As you might have already guessed, I love Hip Hop. No wait. I live Hip Hop. And I live by, live on, and live up to Hip Hop. I wake up to Hip Hop and I sleep to Hip Hop. The more that Hip Hop grows and changes, the more I grow and change. What I once used as a gateway for escapism, has now become one of the most liberating sources of free expression. When I started listening to Hip Hop music at the age of 14, I could definitely say I was trying to live Hip Hop. Now at 20 it is clear that Hip Hop lives inside of me. Six years strong and I've never looked back. Thank you Hip Hop.

I'll talk to you guys later I'm gonna go bump some Lupe Fiasco.

CHECK YOUR INGREDIENTS BEFORE YOU OVERDOSE ON THE COOL.

I'm Out.