Grandpa.

I was named after my grandpa. Well, middle-named. His name is Teymour. That makes me Vincent Teymour Della Morte.

My grandpa is in the hospital right now. For the second time in two months. He is very sick and is going through a second series of dialysis treatments. The doctors are saying his breathing is extremely heavy and deep and his heart is not in the best condition. My mom is going crazy, pacing around the house, crying for him. And it makes me really sad.

I never really knew Grandpa much, but my memories of him are all great. He lives in Los Angeles, and when I went to Los Angeles when I was six years old, he made my whole trip alright. Even though I was young, I still remember everything about L.A: the horrible smell of the city, the smog and pollution, the creepy people that walked outside my Grandpa's apartment (he doesn't live in the best neighborhood), and the police and ambulance sirens that went off every few hours. What I remember most, however, was Grandpa holding me on his lap and kissing me on the cheek a lot (as all Persians do) and telling me he loved me. Even then, thirteen years ago, he still wasn't in the greatest condition. He had a hard time walking, he coughed a whole lot, and he always needed help getting up from his chair. But he really is a sweet man. When I was there, he treated me like a king, like I was everything that ever existed to him.

Now I'm getting really sad. All of a sudden, with visions of him dying in my head, I miss him like crazy. I want to see him. I just might drop by L.A. during my spring break to visit him. After all, I have nothing else planned. I never have anything planned. Family is important. I probably will go see him.

<- this is the only picture I have of Grandpa and I.

Languages.

I think I want to start learning a couple.

I've always wanted to learn a language fluently. I speak mediocre Farsi (Persian), my German isn't great, and I made all the Italians laugh a riot when I tried speaking their language on my trip in Rome. Everybody around me seems to be bilingual. I want to be bi (or multi-) lingual too.

My mom was born in Tehran, Iran, and her first language is Farsi. She always spoke it to me when I was younger, but I always hated it for some reason (actually, I know the reason - having a mom who said Dooset daram, azizam Vinnie-joonam! Nana-see! every second, even when I had friends over at the house, wasn't always such a fantastic experience.) The best time to learn a language is during the ages of 6-12, I've heard. I wish I paid more attention to my mom's language. Farsi is a hard language to grasp, but it's so beautiful. It sounds very pretty, especially when you use it in a hushed, wispy voice.

I don't really think I want to further my Italian (only one country in the world speaks it), but I'd like to learn German more. Besides German, I've always been fascinated with the Russian language. I can decipher the Cyrillic alphabet, but I don't know any Russian. I might take it in college next semester.

Another language I'd love to learn is Icelandic. Even though only one country in the world speaks it (and everybody in Icelandic speaks English, so there's really no need to know it if you're a tourist), it's such a cute language. I am in love with everything Iceland, so maybe I'm a bit biased. But it would be cool to learn Icelandic so I can actually understand what Sigur Ros are singing!

So, my list: Farsi, Russian, Icelandic, and German. In preferred order.

I'll never grow up.

Never, never, never.

I suppose all of us have that kid inside us. And there are some of us that just won't ever stop being a kid. I'm one of those people.

I read fantasy and Dr. Seuss, and I love Disney and Pixar and animated movies. My favorite snack is peanut butter right out of the jar (come on, you know you still love it.) I adore bubble baths and still find comfort in sleeping with a stuffed animal by my side. I'll always make a wish at 11:11. Space travel still exhilarates me - Mars and Saturn and Jupiter are all giant, unexplored worlds to me. I still bunch up leaves in Autumn and jump in them and watch them rain upon my head, like fluttering slivers of rainbows. And I don't care if anybody watches me and thinks, "hey, it's a nineteen year-old jumping in leaves! What a goof!"

When I was a kid, I believed in true love. Even after I watched my mom and dad get divorced when I was very young, I never stopped believing in it. I've seen my mom put a knife to my dad's throat, seen my dad call the police on my mom, seen both of them throw stuff at each other and kick walls and everything. I've seen almost all my neighbors in four different neighborhoods get divorced. I still haven't grown up. I still believe in true love.

I've waited forever for true love. And I saw, felt, smelled, tasted, and heard the voice of true love. That belief and power in true love has helped me write countless poems and stories. And being a kid has given me the strength to still believe. I've waited forever. A little longer wouldn't hurt.

I'll never grow up.

Some music, literature, and film reviews.

Since i'm lazy, i'll only give a paragraph description and a rating.

.:.music.:.

She & Him - Volume Two: A-
Yeah, it's basically a continuation of Volume One, which means if you loved volume one, you'll love this. And if you hated it, you'll hate this. I happen to be in the former group than the latter, so I love it...especially Thieves, Home, and Over it Over Again.

Seabear - We Built a Fire: B+
This is a much different record than their debut. The vocals are more "distant" (I don't know if that is the right word for it) and is a little less cheerful. Nevertheless, it's another great album for this unknown band. And since one of their songs was recently featured in Grey's Anatomy, I hope they get more exposure, because they are excellent.

The Beach Boys - Pet Sounds: A
When the Beatles' album "Rubber Soul," came out, it inspired Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys to make a really great collection of songs. Boy, do I thank the Beatles for making Rubber Soul. Pet Sounds is that collection that Brian Wilson dreamed of.

.:.books.:.

Julio Cortazar - Cronopios and Famas: A+
Don't expect anything normal when you read Julio Cortazar. Especially when you read this...uh, novel? Short story collection? No, it's neither. It's a stream-of-consciousness collection of satiric vignettes. And it is brilliant. Within the span of 160 pages, Cortazar gives you instructions on how to cry correctly, talks about an aunt who has a fear of falling on her back, and rips on the police force. If all of that sounds too outlandish or boring or too liberal for you, it probably is, and you shouldn't even go near it.

Stephen King - On writing: A+ (writing portion); D (the rest of the book)
I have never liked Stephen King's writing, and most of this book is no exception. However, the "on writing" portion (which, thankfully, takes up about 1/3 of the book) is flawless. The rest of it is just him talking about him surviving a life-threatening accident, and it gets extremely tedious after a while.

Nicholas Sparks - The Last Song: B
I'm the only guy who reads Nicholas Sparks and isn't embarrassed to admit it (and enjoys all of it immensely!) This guy's writing style is horrible and all of his stories are a bunch of fluff designed to jerk tears out of you, this one being no exception. Why do I keep reading his work? Because i enjoy it. It's escapism, and everybody needs an escape once in a while.

.:.movies.:.

The Princess and the Frog: C+
This movie is clever. Clever in the way that it blends the culture of New Orleans and a fairytale together. However, clever is it all it really is. Besides the food recipes and jazz-influenced music (which will go over the heads of most young'uns), this movie becomes a parody of itself very quickly. It did make me smile at times, though.

Where the Wild Things Are: A
I loved this movie. Anybody who has ever felt genuine loneliness, jealousy, or fear as a child, or has experienced his/her parents being divorced, or has even never really grown up will cry oceans at this film. I have kind of gone through all of the above, so...yeah, I'm a baby. (Did I mention the soundtrack is fantastic?)

Say Anything: A+
This 1989 classic stars John Cusack, who has never starred in a bad movie in his life. The reason I love this movie is because, even though it is a teen/chick flick, there isn't loads of mindless sex (though there is one love scene), it has a story anybody can relate to: boy falls for girl, girl's dad disapproves, and it's incredibly sweet, but not syrupy.

Now i'll go back to writing my stories and poems..

Welcome to my new blog!

I made this new blog because I had some a guy stalking my last blog and following everything I do and harassing me...and I felt just a little uncomfortable with that. Oh well, this blog will be much better anyway.

For this blog, I will post some of my thoughts/feelings (kind of like a diary,) music, literature, and film reviews, some writing from time to time (though my website is the best place to check for that,) and some cool stuff I find on the internet. Thanks for looking, and keep checking back!

Okay.

Sometimes in life, we have to do the things we don't really want to do, and say things we don't want to say, and even eat things we don't want to eat. Sometimes the things that are hardest to do are also the right things.

I always wished things would work out between that boy and that girl. They were two puzzle pieces where the ends snapped right into place. She was the cheese to his macaroni. He was the bee to her honey. Straw to the cup. Peanut butter to the jelly. But, everything collapsed. You fell. I fell. And, with us, the world collapsed. But, once one of us gets up, the world will start piecing itself back together. I have gotten back up. It was hard at first...my heart was a beat-less melted sludge of rubber, I couldn't sleep anymore, I couldn't eat because all the food I ate was tasteless. I didn't want to talk to anybody. Nobody wanted to talk to me. I was in a prison also. A prison surrounded by my false hopes. However, I'm okay now. Because it is better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all. What that boy and girl had was special, for sure. She awakened all the things in him that he wanted to have come out for so many years. And that was worth it. And that is what he will always remember the girl by. Those special moments. Little nothing moments. But they sure were something. Those little nothing moments always end up being something huge.

But it's gone. Broken. The memories and the moments will always be there, but everything else is broken, beyond repair. The boy wished he could wait longer for the girl. But to do so would be to halt his life. But he'll always remember that girl, for she awakened a lunatic inside him, and she made that lunatic sing! That boy wants the girl to move on too. And please, remember him, fondly. He is okay now, even though it is over.

It is over...those words are hard to hear. Really hard. Impossible, at times, it seems. But it really is. It is over. He is sorry.

But not the memories and little moments. Those are not over. And he is not sorry for those.

Please remember me, fondly...

///////////////////////////////////////////////////

Please remember me, happily
By the rosebush laughing
With bruises on my chin, the time when
We counted every black car passing

Your house beneath the hill and up until
Someone caught us in the kitchen
With maps, a mountain range, a piggy bank
A vision too removed to mention

But please remember me, fondly
I heard from someone you're still pretty
And then they went on to say that the Pearly Gates
Had some eloquent graffiti

Like 'We'll meet again' and 'Fuck the man'
And 'Tell my mother not to worry'
And angels with their great handshakes
But always done in such a hurry

And please remember me, at Halloween
Making fools of all the neighbors
Our faces painted white, by midnight
We'd forgotten one another

And when the morning came I was ashamed
Only now it seems so silly
That season left the world and then returned
And now you're lit up by the city

So please remember me, mistakenly
In the window of the tallest tower
Call, then pass us by but much too high
To see the empty road at happy hour

Gleam and resonate just like the gates
Around the Holy Kingdom
With words like, 'Lost and found' and 'Don't look down'
And 'Someone save temptation'

And please remember me as in the dream
We had as rug burned babies
Among the fallen trees and fast asleep
Beside the lions and the ladies

That called you what you like and even might
Give a gift for your behavior
A fleeting chance to see a trapeze
Swinger high as any savior

But please remember me, my misery
And how it lost me all I wanted
Those dogs that love the rain and chasing trains
The colored birds above their running

In circles round the well and where it spells
On the wall behind St. Peter
So bright on cinder gray in spray paint
'Who the hell can see forever?'

And please remember me, seldomly
In the car behind the carnival
My hand between your knees, you turn from me
And said the trapeze act was wonderful

But never meant to last, the clowns that passed
Saw me just come up with anger
When it filled with circus dogs, the parking lot
Had an element of danger

So please remember me, finally
And all my uphill clawing
My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates
I'll do my best to make a drawing

Of God and Lucifer, a boy and girl
An angel kissin' on a sinner
A monkey and a man, a marching band
All around the frightened trapeze swinger