tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33762382997553213752024-03-13T22:01:19.316-07:00Repeat After Me: I Am FreeEvan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.comBlogger62125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-42402471430198916562014-01-24T00:41:00.001-08:002014-01-24T00:41:53.157-08:00<div class="post_title" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 22px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.3; margin-bottom: 10px; outline: none 0px;">
Repeat After Me: I Am Free</div>
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Get a degree they said. Get on your knees and please me they said. Fuck your degrees I’m following my dreams instead I screamed and fled, repeat after me, I am free to lead anyone who sees a reason to believe they should say what they mean, and say what’s in their head. Not memorize some lines from the pages that they read. All because they’re too blind to see that you are what you eat, you bleed what you’re fed until you’re lost on the beat. And the cost isn’t cheap so I don’t need that debt, I don’t need that sweat. I’m gonna live my life without a single regret, cherish every last breath until the day of my death. </div>
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Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-36793998371119047952013-08-20T22:58:00.002-07:002013-08-20T22:58:26.937-07:00Late Summer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dHJ1mtHY5Es/UhRW8Skc3vI/AAAAAAAAAKY/xQoI3rd85yE/s1600/cr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dHJ1mtHY5Es/UhRW8Skc3vI/AAAAAAAAAKY/xQoI3rd85yE/s320/cr.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">The oldest of faces become seen less and less. It's here and there and and even then the absence is present. The sun slips towards the hills earlier each night, followed by one too few goodbyes. This is a coming of age as we inhale the night. </span>Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-85612108592941211902013-06-03T22:26:00.001-07:002013-06-03T22:26:44.242-07:00Mother XI'm ready.Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-78205327908022033812013-05-06T16:46:00.002-07:002013-05-06T16:46:35.049-07:00Rap Poetry<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I used to be used to getting used and
abused,</div>
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but I refuse to be amused by the blues
so get used to it,
</div>
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excused from class, break the rules
kiss my ass,
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
grass smokin, facebook pokin soakin it
all up in last,
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
my voice aint even raspy enough to spit
a rap,
</div>
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but my word choice snappy as fuck like
bra straps,
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
grasp it and tuck my nuts like a
running back,
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
my boy throwin down busted chucks
gimmie some of that,
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
nappy unhappy you laugh at me? That's
kinda mean,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
for a kid who's about to turn his
subaru into a saleen,
</div>
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16 piss clean with nothin but a big
dream
</div>
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oscar nominees on the tv you dig me?
</div>
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And id be lyin if I said I didn't hate
all of society</div>
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id be lying if I said I didn't struggle
with sobriety
</div>
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anxiety hides in me silently whispering
these
</div>
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violent ambitions kissing my minds
intuition
</div>
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unwilingly liabilities reside at my
window</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
though rolling eyes keep crying as
souls inside of us dying
</div>
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reminding guys to be high and never
render our bitchin</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
sippin the tussin got me scratchin and
itchin</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
gobblins in my noggin robbin me of any
sanity</div>
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I couldn't dream of this in my most
unreal fantasy.</div>
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Dance with me
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
take a chance with me</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
im depressed for some romance or at
least a</div>
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fuckin female tail but they all just
fuckin run away and bail</div>
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so I smoke like chain mail take it in
and exhale</div>
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life down the drain I wanna put it up
for sale.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
fuck.</div>
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<br />
</div>
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Psychedelics in my head with a lotta
ambition
</div>
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this flow so loaded with a lot of
ammunition
</div>
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just spittin the wishes while youre
listenin to me bitchin</div>
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cant even tell which spliffs I be
hitten
</div>
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before we emit the flames, every night
its the same
</div>
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paddin stats lebron james inhale the
smoke and fuck the flames,
</div>
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poppin collars wayfayer frames im
kickin ass and takin names
</div>
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you're a sus ass pooch boy im a great
dane</div>
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But im still cleaner then most my flow
is sweeter than toast</div>
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evokes emotional roller coastin notions
I boast</div>
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postin up, ganja leaves, match it to my
green preme</div>
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dreams of an american we're scarin them
we're that extreme</div>
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swimmin upstream like its all part of
the scheme</div>
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and I promise my regime is just as
messed up as it seems.
</div>
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Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-7886503235417435022013-04-18T21:38:00.002-07:002013-04-18T21:38:32.633-07:00this world<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Why do we come into this world and try
to mold ourselves into something that fits with everything that
already exists. We go to school, go to jobs, just assuming that it's
what we <i>should </i>be doing. But
we don't come from here, we come from a place we don't even know and
may never understand. We are so much more than what's in front of us,
so why do we choose to belittle ourselves? Be you, and don't be
afraid.</div>
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Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-66829875780859285462013-03-08T02:44:00.001-08:002013-03-08T02:44:04.407-08:00internal bleeding. <br />
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every time i start writing with this feeling inside of me, whether it be a post, a journal entry, some scribbling on a napkin, it always starts off with ‘this is such a weird time in my life,’ or something to that effect. but i’m coming to the conclusion that this isn’t any phase or section of my life, there isn’t a checkpoint five years down the road and once i pass it all of my worries will be no longer. no. this is my life, this is life, this is how it works. there’s been so much building up in me i just need to let it go somewhere. i’m not mad or in any sort of rant mode, i’m not fed up with anything or anybody, i just need to release.</div>
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about two months ago i set a goal for myself to find a deeper level of happiness. i tend to fall into this depressive cycle where in the spring and summer i’m energetic, always happy, always just rev’d up. in the winter i’m down on myself, down on life, etc etc. one thing i’ve noticed with this cycle is that i always seem to find someone to talk to, to relate to. someone who may or may not be going through the same thing, but nonetheless that person becomes my ‘go to’ person, pretty much for anything regarding life. but what i found destructive in this is that my happiness was based on that person. these people were saving me, but everything that made me tick relied on whatever they did. when they’re gone im nothing. so for the last two months i’ve completely isolated myself, a lot of times intentionally, and some other times not so much. but i did this in order to go into darker places than i have ever gone before, to rely on solely myself for my own happiness. i went through a 4 week stretch where i didn’t speak to anybody. and just like i always do i over analyzed it. i began thinking of myself as a creep, a loser, whatever bad thing you can think of somebody, that’s how i saw myself. it grew way beyond a lack of confidence, it became a lack of humanity. i came on to sites like tumblr, scrolled through blog posts of people who were going through similar things, sometimes way more drastic, sometimes just petty issues. some induced physical harm and some needed help from other more serious sources. something i let get to me was that everybody i was reading about and everything i read was posted by a female. i began to get really self conscious that im here on tumblr posting away about my internal struggle yet i dont see a single other dude doing this. anywhere. i don’t mean to send off any transgender vibes here, not that that would be a bad thing as i do support to no end and i am very comfortable with who i am as far as that. but it makes me question the world around me as well as the world inside of me. i feel like as a male im supposed to suck it up, take the punches life throws at me and move on. yet here i am writing about my every little aspect that my mind and soul struggle with as if its actually going to help me. i digress. its been a little over 8 weeks now. i can’t help but notice my constant anxiety, my constant depression. the only positive thing that has come of this is that for the first time in my entire life, i don’t rely on anybody else for my happiness. but with this “accomplishment” i feel like i’ve run into a whole world of other problems. </div>
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im a little bit afraid of myself. not in the sense that most people are afraid of themselves when they say something like that though. but i know i have a lot of things to fight through on the inside and that scares me in itself. i look in the mirror every day and absolutely despise what i see, both on the inside and out. i heard this great quote a few weeks back about how depressed people are stuck comparing their behind the scenes to other people’s highlight reels. but my highlight reel as of late has been getting drunk and high on weekends, blaring minimalist piano until i cry, staring at my newsfeed on facebook waiting for this beautiful girl i met a bit ago to message me bc i dont have the confidence to, im too scared to be annoying, and i just have this idea inside of me that im simply me, and that’s not good enough and that never will be good enough. how pathetic is that? and then naturally i try to take an outside perspective on all of this because i over analyze everything and then i see myself from somebody elses point of view. like are you kidding me evan? you’re 20 years old, in college, huge party school, lots of people to meet, and you’re in your apartment alone, every damn weekend. that thought only adds to the amount of loser i feel like on a daily basis. i know it’s not healthy. i’ve gotten professional help before for my depression, for add, for general purposes. i have never wasted my time more ruthlessly then when i got help. help doesn’t help me, and that scares me as well. </div>
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theres a few people that don’t know it, probably no more than a handful who i really enjoy. i’m not sure if i’ve ever spoken a word to them in my entire life, but every now and then they’ll like a post, or a picture of mine, they’ll post something super cool or whatever. but there’s a common theme in all of this and at 5am i can’t really put it into words but i can tell they get and understand me better than most people. maybe its the fact that i think they see me for who i really am, they see that im really depressed, they see that im really struggling to keep it all together, and even know they don’t know much about me, they feel that, or they’re cool with that. i wish i had the guts to spark a conversation with any of them because i feel like they’d all be really cool people to get to know. i don’t know them at all, but ive had a few instances where people have read things i didn’t think anybody read and positively responded to them, so if you’re one of those people im talking about, and you feel me and understand me and my struggle, my internal bleeding if you will, i love you with all of my heart. thank you. and hopefully someday i muster up enough courage to tell you this, and to get to know you.</div>
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oh and i’ve been crying way more than i ever have before. i mean, you can’t just go to people and tell this to them. because 1. if you’re feeling like im feeling you’re gonna be way to afraid of getting judged or any other sort of backlash. yeah, i am indeed a pussy, i got called it enough in middle school to come to terms with it then where i don’t need that anymore seven years later. but the fact that i’ve become this loner in my eyes absolutely wrecks me. i see my current self as everything i would never want to become as a child, everything i would be ashamed of. it’s like im a living failure to my former self, but maybe that’s just what growing up is. i’m always thinking about how much i miss my brother and how much i hate him for ignoring every phone call, text message, email, everything i’ve sent his way over the past… well shit i don’t even know how long its been now. 3-5 years? you get the point. i feel like i’m more nostalgic then anybody i’ve ever met, but im thinking thats because at that point in my life, i didn’t see what was headed for me. i didnt know that the mind was capable of heading off into such dark places. i didn’t know a lot. i don’t know a lot. </div>
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i’ve been trying my hardest to better myself as a person in these last two months. i haven’t been the best of friends, the best of sons the best of brothers, the best of students etc etc. i know humans aren’t perfect and im still learning to embrace my own flaws but i want to be the best evan i can be because thats all the world deserves from me. ive been going deeper into my self reflections and meditations in order to see where i can do more good for people as well as myself. at times it gets really frustrating for me when a friend will call me at 3am crying about some guy they weren’t able to hook up with and they expect me to comfort them when only a few minutes earlier i had tears rolling because i was caught up thinking about how long its been since the last time i felt part of a family, or how my constant loneliness is leading me down such a dark path, anything like that. but yes i will gladly talk to you until the sun comes up confirming that everything will be alright and that this guy doesn’t matter and you’re wonderful. we’ll hang up the phone at about 4:30am and you’ll go to bed and wake up fine the next morning. the funny thing is, i never go to bed. i get to stay awake trapped in my own head trying to fight off the demons night after night. they say you get addicted to anything that takes away the pain. alcohol, pot, night in night out, and that’s not at all the man i want to be. i don’t know what im going to do about that yet. </div>
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its funny, somebody messaged me a few weeks ago, i guess i had a depressing tweet or some shit and she was like i never understand why at times you seem so unhappy, you seem like such an amazing kid. and then i always get bullshit about how people “love my mind” and crap about how my work is so “deep” and “moving” and all garbage that really doesn’t mean much to me. i mean, don’t get me wrong, i know i’ve given off an elitist impression to people and anybody who knows me, knows thats not me. i appreciate it to no end, but to someone like me who is a very silent kid, who never talks in a room full of people and is constantly observing, taking in taking in taking in, i read people better than a mother reads her 8 year old son. i know when people get me and when people just like something shallowly. and i also know that you can’t fully get me until you fully get me. so to get my thoughts, my work, my whatever, you have to get me, talk with me, be with me, experience what i experience, and from this ive learned that im the only one who will truly understand anything that comes from me. a sad realization. </div>
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im honestly scared of talking to a lot of girls because what i have going on in my head is that i haven’t been with anybody for over a year now, i feel like they just see that in me and relate it directly to any other horny dude who wants to hook up with them, and im so deathly afraid of being viewed as that because im the farthest thing from that. i just like getting to know people for what they are, but with all of these fast assumptions and impressions being tossed around its so hard to find anybody who just wants to sit and have a damn conversation. im so fed up with everybody trying to hook up with someone, everybody needing that shallow pleasure, what ever happened to intellectual stimulation? sometimes i can’t wait until i die because the human race makes me sick to my stomach. i have this bipolar view of humanity where i absolutely love meeting and getting to know new people, but i absolutely hate what people are doing to each other, what we’re doing to our planet, just everything and anything. maybe i just need a drastic change of perspective and make my scale a little smaller. </div>
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i dont know anymore. getting all of this out unfortunately only made me feel worse. the anxiety mixed with nostalgia is an absolute lethal combination. im literally being torn in half between the forces of future and past. and in my mind i know the only thing that matters is the now. i just wish i could sleep and maybe understand a little more. but i guess i should call it quits while im ahead, or i guess before i get even more behind then i already am. </div>
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im so sick of the cold. i wish the sun would come out soon. </div>
Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-84088598098440096902013-01-23T08:30:00.002-08:002013-01-23T08:30:09.014-08:00things for friends.<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When inhaling life in the name of
wanderlust,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Struggling to avoid the deprivation of
trust,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But when I find a shooting star as rare
as they are,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mind and soul get swooped up like a
cosmic dust.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-2639457037774826702013-01-03T01:23:00.001-08:002013-01-03T01:23:50.611-08:00nonewhy do i feel like a fucking troll. all of the time. fuck this.Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-72271983386252971052012-12-11T05:34:00.000-08:002012-12-11T05:34:13.044-08:00Inspirationover the past month ive just about seeked out every source of inspiration i can get. i think its funny what can inspire us some times. a rejection letter, a girl, ignorance, hate. but when i hit rock bottom a few times, when i really needed the extra kick in the ass to tell myself that this is all gonna be worth it, that yes the journey matters but who are we kidding so does the damn destination, and the destination is gonna be fucking delicious. when i needed it, it was a culmination of all of these things that got me through. it wasn't taking a little bit here and it a little bit there for inspiration, it was its own thing, its own feeling. grudges are one hell of a weapon. its amazing how little a spark you need to set ablaze such a magnificent fire. when you start observing the world and you take everything you don't like in it and take it as a shot against you, you say fuck you im gonna get better. with what i do, with who i am, with what im about, im gonna get goddamn better and you go for it. you will not fail because the act of going for it is the only test. the destination WILL be reached because the destination is the RESULT of the journey. it is not somewhere i am trying to get to along the way. for me its gettin easier. when im all alone and need a little shove to get up, to keep going, to keep fighting, to keep growing, i remember not too long ago when i was all alone, ditched with nobody to go to. i remember how i made something better for myself and how that something better IS the life im living today, so if i dont keep going, if i dont keep giving it my all im not going to ever avenge those tears of that boy who sat alone in his room on friday nights wishin that he could just have a best friend to talk to. i need to keep living his dream because thats all hes got. and when all youve got is a dream, the realities of life don't seem all too real anymore. love becomes distant and you become colder and colder and colder. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
if i dont give it my all, if i dont sacrifice my entire life to being alive, then this life isnt worth living at all. what more inspiration do you need. </div>
Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-27574165843959119562012-10-23T23:49:00.002-07:002012-10-23T23:49:42.966-07:00the greatest day of my life. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F3P_Cm_AU4A/UIeMgzNnRYI/AAAAAAAAAHk/zSHudlnbD1M/s1600/me+in+yosemite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F3P_Cm_AU4A/UIeMgzNnRYI/AAAAAAAAAHk/zSHudlnbD1M/s320/me+in+yosemite.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I never really thought about it, but as soon as I did I realized that this was the best day of my life. I never thought I'd be able to select something like this out of so many good days that I've had, but this one had everything. There was not a single scent of nostalgia in the air. Everything I had ever missed was right beside me as well as inside of me. I had somebody whom I loved, loving me all the same. I had many new great friends, as well as the old. My family felt like a family that day for the first and last time I can remember. I was hiking through my favorite place on the planet, Yosemite. I don't even remember the actual date, but I know this was the greatest day of my life. Running around God's canvas provided with me with an energy that I hadn't felt in quite some time. I felt as I did during my boyhood running around in the yard in a world full of bliss, only this time it was a stone canyon paradise. It was the first time I saw or talked to my brother in over a year and it was the best feeling ever. We ran and explored and just let ourselves take in every bit of beauty. We joked and we mocked each other, and then cooled off at the footsteps of a gigantic waterfall gracing itself over a cliff. We got lost. We got found. Got a text saying "I love you." I didn't need anything more, I'll never need anything more than that. It was bliss, it was beautiful, it was perfect. I was free, I was young, but most importantly I was one. My heart was one for the first time in ages. My family was one for the first time in ages. My world was one for the first time in ages. I was happy, the happiest I have ever been. This was the greatest day of my life, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it more than anything in the world. I miss my family. I miss my brother. I miss Yosemite. I miss my heart. I miss my happiness. But I know that it won't be too long before I'm back. And once I'm back I'll feel it all again like I had on the greatest day of my life. I can't wait.Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-20852033685520453022012-10-18T01:24:00.002-07:002012-10-18T01:24:15.887-07:00lifewhen life gets you down you get back up and fuck life in the face. you go harder than you ever went before. you may just go insane...Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-9268900771629377552012-10-16T22:03:00.001-07:002012-10-16T22:03:19.597-07:00freeim not one of those white kids whos about to attempt to pursue a rap career. but ever since i was little ive written poetry and got made fun of it quite a bit through out grade school so i always just wrote it to myself or people that really got me. but since i listened to so much rap throughout grade school i really fell in love with the art and when i dont feel like writing poetry all the time sometimes ill put on an instrumental and just write to that. its not really poetry or rap its kind of an in between that ive come to love. so i just let go whenever i wanna. no structure, no formatting, no bullshit. ive said from the start this blog is my new journal. id be ashamed of myself if it was formatted in ANY way.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Its a night like this, a few years back
in my room no chicks,
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
wishin I would die or the time would
pass by</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
its never easy living life with nobody
givin two shits</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
now we find ourselves smokin two
spliffs, dont know where were goin or what were doin but these paths
that were choosing are making us who were gonna be in the future,
doesn't help me forget the blonde in the cute shirt, sittin in class
callin me a loser, too afraid of drugs to be an abuser so I sat in my
room at night with only my music to talk to goin back to school on
monday everybody thinking im an awkward fool or maybe it was all in
my head and now im reading these threads about these people who are
depressed and don't have a lot to live for, starvin themselves hungry
with insanity knockin on their door, and Im thinkin to myself that I
was just like them, and every single one of them is why ill never let
go of the pen. If only I can save a single life before it all its the
fan, because each and every is so beautiful goddamn. </div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-72263255753490615672012-10-11T02:07:00.000-07:002012-10-11T02:07:53.624-07:00something for a friend.seven months back when i was struggling to even breathe<br />
fearing that the people i needed no longer needed me<br />
my heart cut out of my chest just like an amputee<br />
and then an old friend of mine gave me a life changing guarantee<br />
we hadn't talked in awhile so it caught me off guard<br />
i wasn't even in the mood to chat i was so scarred<br />
but he wasn't about to take no for an answer no matter how hard<br />
a friendship is a friendship doesn't matter where you are<br />
he told me i was wide open and it would take a lot of time<br />
like a piercing without the jewels i'd close up just fine<br />
that the pain that i was going through was all part of the design<br />
of this life that we live you can't have highs without declines<br />
i trusted him he's my buddy what else was i to do<br />
he's a genuine kid i should've known that he'd come through<br />
for awhile i dug inside myself and really withdrew<br />
but that's what it took to stand up and become new.<br />
<br />
a little over a month ago i saw him again<br />
late summer night just partying with some friends<br />
it took a moment but then i got to thinking remember when<br />
he reached out to me and let me see my life through a new lens<br />
we hugged and he told me that he dug my creativity<br />
and i can't even being to tell you how much this inspired me<br />
to this very day to simply keep doing what i'm doing<br />
felt like pre-k again when i first learned to tie my shoe strings<br />
you can't put a price on when a friend has your back<br />
one from back in the day when we ran for the plaques<br />
don't talk too much anymore but it doesn't matter<br />
because every time we do it's the most meaningful chatter<br />
through and through he helped me like no other<br />
safe to say he's like a big brother<br />
through and through in the past few months i grew<br />
i guess all i'm trying to say is thank you.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-54974100698520735282012-10-07T02:12:00.002-07:002012-10-07T02:12:53.420-07:00thoughts.maybe im more depressed than i let myself believe. maybe im not as happy as i thought i was. maybe im not as recovered as i thought i was. maybe im just fucking delusional. i mean, i dont have many friends but its not a big deal because i dont need many. but thats because i dont like most people and i mean how sad is that. i read some and i watch a lot of films these days but the loneliness had crept up on me much faster than i thought it ever could. i just wish i didnt feel so fucked up just being me ya know? i wish i didnt feel like such a damn creep all the time. i wish i was okay with who i was and who im becoming. but fuck it, guess thats life right now.Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-31759319749560968152012-10-07T02:00:00.000-07:002012-10-07T02:00:44.111-07:00rain.remember when we kissed in the rain?<br />
remember when our feelings didn't stay the same?<br />
you sat there and you smiled while my mind ran wild,<br />
you took us and burned it in the flames.<br />
what a shame, what a shame.<br />
<br />
as i inhale deep and fog my brain,<br />
is this the man that i became?<br />
sitting alone a midst pale skin tones,<br />
wishing for myself that i could make a name.<br />
what a shame, what a shame.<br />
<br />
to regain that feeling blood pumping through my veins,<br />
to contain my mind of all thoughts inhumane,<br />
only time will tell for my dear mademoiselle,<br />
a theatrical life full of nothing but stage names.<br />
what a shame, what a shame, what a shame.<br />
<br />
<br />Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-80161041288411778822012-10-04T23:51:00.001-07:002012-10-04T23:51:57.313-07:00twelve.There's not a second that goes by where I don't wish it were yesterday.<div>
Proof that time really flies, running around the yard with the leaves getting blown away.</div>
<div>
The red, yellow and orange would slowly turn to shades of gray. </div>
<div>
And I miss you. I miss you.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Dad always mixing up our names.</div>
<div>
Endured the world, I know you're not to blame.</div>
<div>
Not a single moment can ever feel the same.</div>
<div>
And I miss you. I miss you.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I missed you at the age of twelve.</div>
<div>
I cried at night because it felt like hell.</div>
<div>
I washed my face so you could never tell.</div>
<div>
Just think what it does to me now. </div>
Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-64239865786720503142012-09-28T01:05:00.001-07:002012-09-28T01:05:48.181-07:00thoughtstook me long enough to realize, but the one thing i miss most is love.Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-91442264877927375152012-09-26T00:29:00.002-07:002012-09-26T00:29:35.958-07:00searchmusic doesn't love me like a lady can. but music will always love me. tough choice eh? but that's when i remember i don't have one. it was a lady who forced me to fall in love with the music, to fall out of love with her. music is lady, but lady is no music. you see, when you love a lady, love is the in between. love is the transition. love is the verb. but you cannot love music for music <i>is</i> that very verb! music is not a thing, it's an action. if you love music, then you music music, and you love love. it really is that simple. love is music. music is love. and god damn i miss her, whoever she may be.Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-18717559619982076362012-09-14T00:14:00.000-07:002012-09-14T00:14:09.883-07:00Up and Up and Up.<span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">i don't mean to reminisce, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">but i miss the days of a youthful bliss.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> i never knew that it would feel like this.</span>
<br />
<span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">i never knew that i would feel your kiss. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">not that of the lips but that of the soul. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">one day i'll find the other half of my whole</span><br />
<span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">.</span><span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">one day i swear i'll fill that hole. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">no matter how deep it goes, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">only me us and her will know.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> filling it up like water in a cup. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">up and up and up.</span>Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-75201704804117427502012-09-09T01:42:00.001-07:002012-09-09T01:42:51.519-07:00untitledmy self esteem is low as fuck.Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-29264099867748593602012-09-09T01:37:00.001-07:002012-09-09T01:37:53.653-07:00CouldThere's a lot of thoughts going through my head... just swirling around. At times they lift me up and put a smile on my face, but at times they leave me empty and confused. I have an overwhelming desire to try and articulate everything that I'm feeling to perfection but I have little faith in myself to do this right now, as I have little faith in myself to do anything... ever. I think... that my problem right now is that I haven't started on anything in awhile. You see... at this very point in time I have all of the seeds in front of me. In front of my very being is all of this potential, all of this life that <i>could</i> happen, that I<i> could</i> create. While one might point that out as a good thing, I am burdened by the fact that I don't know which seed to harvest, or at least harvest first. It seems such a silly dilemma to not know what option of all things to select but it again is my largest burden. And then beyond my very control comes more and more ideas, overflowing my mind. I'm confused. I'm troubled in the best of ways. I see all of these staircases in front of me but I need to get myself to take the first step on ANY one of them, and then some peace of mind will be obtained for myself. I find it most unfortunate that life's most beautiful aspects are ridden bittersweet. I'm starting to gain perspective on things I've never seen before. It's coming full circle. It's breaking my heart. I feel so guilty and as I should for I longed for the exact same rhythm and flow for so long. I'm starting to question the fibers inside of me. What am I made of? What the fuck am I really made of? And then the idea that scares me the most. Maybe love became part of the map. Maybe I'm becoming less of myself by the day, less of everyone by the day, less of it all by the day. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't afraid as I'm typing this but something about the fear inside of me doesn't feel quite right. It's not as strong as I know fear to be. As we become older do we build up an immunity to our emotions? I sure hope not... I like living. But as time goes on I've noticed I feel less highs and lows. It's not getting better either. More just a steady flow of sameness, a happy medium, except it's not quite what I know to be happy. With all of these seeds in front of me, with all of this potential for life and growth, I think it's time to go back to my own seed. I need to dig back inside of myself to remember who I am and maybe even rediscover myself yet again. Yeah... I think I'll do that. Something seems off, but not quite off as it usually does. Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-9589619669643984852012-08-28T03:00:00.001-07:002012-08-28T03:00:19.358-07:003vnI am sea. I am tree. I love you from the top of my heart. Three.<br />
Repeat after me. I am free. I love you with all of my heart. She.Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-11327429965755308382012-07-31T01:29:00.002-07:002012-08-16T17:34:06.026-07:00Live.It took me too long to figure this one out, but it finally hit me. There's a reason why they call live music live music. It is because you are truly alive when listening to it. The difference between the two words is absolutely nothing. Live and live. Maybe this is because all of life is live, its always right now, always in <i>the now.</i> I have seen a decent amount of shows in the past year. (Consider the Source, The McLovins, Company of Thieves, Beats Antique, Fun., Phish, Santana, The Allman Brothers, Gathering of the Vibes fest, Yale String Quartet, and Suitcase Rodeo, with a few others.) A lot of it isn't just unlike the others, but on complete opposite sides of the music spectrum. What I have taken in is that I can be inspired in so many different ways. I can be inspired to laugh, to cry, to love, to hate, to everything. I've had the honor of being a part of so many spectacular live moments that it's like learning a new language. Eventually you learn more accurate words to describe situations and occurrences, so why would you ever going back to only using the first word you ever learned? The difference here is that the language I've been learning over the past year is music. It's not that haven't been able to speak it, but this is the first year I've gone to a considerable amount of shows, so I think of it as the first time I've really listened. Listening is important. For a perfect harmony there needs to be an even flow of giving and taking, listening and speaking. I've been getting closer and closer to this harmony, and musically I've never felt more comfortable in my life. I used to always wonder why people mindlessly bopped around looking like foolish baboons while music was being force fed to them. I always appreciated the creation of it, the composition of it. But where I was absurdly wrong was that to appreciate the music as a composer... a creator, you must appreciate it within the audience, feeling it with every limb of your body. It something much bigger than a single soul, something that should be deeply respected from within because from within it is felt. It's not what is being portrayed that makes live music alive. It is the fact that something is being portrayed at all, as simple or complex as one can desire. It's another language within itself, and now I find myself wondering how I could ever go back. Simple answer is that I can't and I won't. Emotions and feelings rise above language all too often, but what takes time to realize is that emotions and feelings <i>coincide</i> with the language of music and the arts. It is something us humans will eventually adopt as our primary languages because they are much more sophisticated, much more complex and detailed, but for now, we will carry on struggling with our basic, primitive words, sentences, and verbal haberdashery. We will remain who we are. Dead.Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-39244496255147585732012-07-16T02:00:00.000-07:002012-07-16T02:00:04.265-07:00ExplorationI'm not really sure what i'm going through right now. I feel like ive been discovering so much... so fast... and the problem isn't that of what im discovering... its that of me... the mere fact that im not sure i can take it all in as fast as its being handed to me. For now I think I'm okay with the current pace, but I feel like I'm running with someone whos just a tad faster than me. I need my time to inhale, to truly comprehend, and then go forth yet again and discover even more. There is just SO MUCH HAPPENING. Its a beautiful thing don't get me wrong, but true growth has to leave the one who is growing much feeling of discomfort. Musically, spiritually, intellectually, artistically, instinctively... just growing. (ex: listened to a song tonight that i first heard back in january of this year. in january i absolutely hated it. i didn't understand it, it hurt my ears, it was hard to pick anything off of. i couldn't even get through the first layer of it. but that was the problem. see i had been looking at it all the wrong way. i looked at the piece of music as something you had to penetrate back then. that a song was a cup of water, and to get into the middle of it you had to go head first. now when i listened to the same song again, i fell in love with it. i didn't see it as a cup of water anymore, but in my mind i split the water into different sections. i heard everything individually and THATS how it came together as a whole. it can be one hell of a task to separate a substance such as water into smaller substances of water, or music into small bits of music, but doing just that helped me understand, to appreciate, and to enjoy.)<br />
<br />
You can't see the ocean and not see the waves. You can't see the waves and not see the ocean. Try it.<br />
<br />
Often times this extensive growth and discovery of self and surroundings has left me more uncomfortable than i'm comfortable with. weird thing to say i know, how can anyone be comfortable with being uncomfortable... but I know deep down that being uncomfortable only means that growth is occurring. What I have NOW learned is that constant growth is useless. There needs to be check points along the way (not to appreciate the growth, that only builds the ego) but to appreciate all that is. Life, living, and all that jazz. Often times I also find myself really missing that anchor in my life, something that I can always come back to and know that it's gonna be there for me, the same as it always was. There's a sense of comfort that comes with that, that I can't deny. I can't. I am one who gets easily disgusted with repetitiveness, constantly appreciating the "new", constantly begging for change, not for the sake of change, but for the sake of growth itself. But I need that <i>something, </i>I need that <i>one thing.</i> Not sure what it is yet. I'll get back to you. Hopefully...<br />
The idea that happiness is only real when shared is becoming more and more evident in my life as well. It's something that has always hit a special note inside of me, but it just becoming more and more real. This being the case I expect it to be that more real as I continue to grow. However the irony lies in the fact that as I continue to grow, I have less and less people to share this happiness with. Less and less people understand me. Less and less people see my vision, share my dreams, my goals, my day to day aspirations. There's an impending feeling inside of me that soon enough, very soon in fact, that I won't have anybody to share the happiness with. The feeling that no matter what one may say, what one may intend, it's not them that will leave me, it's me that will leave them. I feel as though I am traveling at a pace (on my own path) that is just too fast for any soul to keep up with, losing myself further and further on my own trail of life. Losing myself in the sense implies that it's something that I don't want to be happening, and that's not true. I want to go down my trail as fast I possibly can! Who wouldn't? But at the same time the discomfort that I am feeling is coming from leaving my anchor behind. Leaving everything I've known into a constant unknown. Conflicted would be a good word to describe the situation. The inner turmoil which I am experiencing is not something I have any idea how to solve... only adding to the situation. I think... i think... (haha. i know jack shit.) i think... that one of the hardest things for me is the realization that i can't just share my life with someone. Think about it. what greater happiness than life... and if happiness is only real when shared (which i believe it is) than life is only real when shared. And how on earth can I be happy when I can't share my life with someone? Not for approval, not for support, just to be together. It's funny how simple of a concept that can seem at first but how many complex annotations it carries along with it. Be together. Even just the word. It's so simple... so basic in it's outer shell. Be. But deep inside it's everything that it bring along that makes simply being, not so simply <i>being. </i>Of course I understand that my path will cross into others eventually, and maybe paths can intertwine. But the fact of that matter is, any path who is headed towards collision with mine, is going to have about, at least 20 years of unknowing.<br />
Has the past 19.5 years been filled with unhappiness? I don't think so...<br />
<br />
<i>Think... not know...</i><br />
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This leads me to think about whether happiness has to be shared with the same person for it to be true happiness. Maybe there are different levels of happiness. Maybe that's the <i>ultimate</i> happiness. Life. To be, and <i>just</i> to BE. together. I don't know. I'll never know. I'll only grow. Check back on this one later.Evan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3376238299755321375.post-87774357943707200602012-06-12T21:52:00.002-07:002012-06-12T23:06:36.689-07:00once in a blue moon.so many times i get made fun of, or questioned, or simply just looked at with a sense of confusion. it confusing to me because if im not always pursuing a women, all of my friends simply think that im hiding something from them. your answer is no, its just that our priorities are not at all the same. my greatest aspirations will not be interrupted by the basic pleasures of life. the st important lesson i learned in high school (not because it was told to me, but because i lived it) is that 'fun is the end result of hard work, everything else is just cheap entertainment.' however it was often brought up that cheap entertainment is indeed needed, and that is what this blog post is for. its something i rarely think about or even concern myself with because there is so much more in this world than simple pleasures, but yeah they are nice sometimes and yes <i>once in a blue moon</i> it does get to me. however it is certainly something i have grown to get used to as well. i've been called ugly and goofy the majority of my life and i specifically remember times throughout school when i merely touched an article of clothing or brushed against someone by accident and had people muttering to their friends about how they need to burn their clothing or take a very long shower to be clean again. in a way i am thankful because i've hardened up and its made me realize the more important aspects of life, but it still comes around to get me every once in awhile. on nights like these i think about how often i try not to let it bug me, or how little meaning it has in my life, and how it came to be. its like one of these days its just gonna swallow me up. a compilation of all the shallow desires ive ever had will finally come back to eat me. it makes me angry that this gets to me but it does. i dont know why. i dont have an explanation for it. im not even necessarily looking for one. but we'll come back to that later. its really made me into who i am though. i am possibly the least touchy person you'll ever meet because im too afraid that i'll get practically yelled at (or the equivalent in some other form). its just gets really hard to live with every once in awhile. thats all. the ironic part is that everyone comes to ME with their boy/girl problems. well... not everyone, but someone is ALWAYS coming up to me for advice or just to let all of their shit out on. every time i hear a story about how a boyfriend is fucking other chicks, or some guy is using you for your good looks, or your girl doesn't always go down on you when you want you to, im just caught thinking to myself like 'damn man, im 19, in college, and when every other guy and girl seems to be as horny as possibly can be, i just see so far beyond that. it has such a small signifigance in my life. but it still has <i>some.'</i> the problem is when i do desire something of that variety i do not even know where to begin. it sucks. most of the time i dont give a shit. most of the time if not all of the time its not even worth it. its just something i needed to get out. something that bothers me more than it should. its just part of breaking out of the norms that society has placed for us. its hard, but its a growing process. however, regardless of what society tells me i should be doing, its something that is still desired once in a navy crescent. unfortunately its nothing i can do anything about, and i guess we'll see how things go as time moves on. nothing to get down about, just a flee on the windshEvan Camporealehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00999646976738076036noreply@blogger.com0