Hezo Kittie

So my cousin (not a real relative, but the son of one of my mom's friends from high school) Ben came to town the other day and stayed with his parents in our house for a few days before going camping with us. He's quite an interesting kid really, and his personality, his tastes, and everything about him was just so different than what I'm used to hearing from people I meet these days that it really threw me off. But Ben was indeed a cool guy, and he had some interesting things to say in the few days that I (sort of) got to know him. That grammar really doesn't sound right.

The camping trip that we take every year in July consists of a bunch of my mom and dad's old high school friends who live in California, and people who they want to take along who are related to them. We take up three campsites altogether so there's a good sized amount of us crazy filipinos, and there's a ton of little kids that come along with the parents. Back in the day my sister and I used to be the middle of the kids in seniority but now we are the elders and it's a different atmosphere than it once was. But that's probably just because the kids older than us went to college and didn't have time now to camp with their family for a few days, but whatever.

Honestly, there isn't much to say about the camping trip, but I'll just say that I'm at a weird age during the trip that I feel really awkward being there because I'm not sure if my being there is pointless or if I can actually have a good time in the few days that I'm with these people. The adults catch up on their lives and talk like the old friends they are, and the little ones go psycho and run around dirtying themselves up like stupid hooligans who are annoying.

Anyway, Ben was full of random stories, which were normally told at random times. The one that struck me as the most intriguing though was the following:

"When I was in seventh grade, one of my good girl friends got fingered, which is a really big deal when you're that age, and a lot of the school found out about it. Even though she was one of my best friends, I didn't like the fact that it happened and was one of the people who was mad at her about what happened. I look back at it and feel like I betrayed her during that time."

Alright, so it's not much of a story. It doesn't have some crazy twist or event that you have never heard before. But no matter how random it was (7th grade? What the random?), to me it had some relevance to the situations we (or at least I) will or might be facing in the future.

The story showed me that he realized the mistake he made in not standing up for his friend when she needed it the most. I thought back to the times that I felt I betrayed someone close to me when I looked back on it, and it feels bad. And I'm sure the people who read this don't have this sort of problem because they're good people, but sometimes people are just too forgiving.

But being the friend that stood up for her might not have felt like the thing he wanted to do, but he later saw it as the right thing that he wish he could've done. And I feel like every day there are times when you should just shut up, or speak out, or let go of the things that you don't feel you want to do but know is right because you'll help a friend out. Sometimes I think the smallest sacrifices we have to make in keeping our personal opinion quiet or giving up what you personally want to do make the biggest differences in the end.

Maybe I should listen to myself for one second and stop this gibberish from reaching all y'alls ears, because it's way too vague to make any sense to anyone anyway.

I hate poker so much. In a weird way. Me and poker have a unique relationship, because poker has raped my life into a really, really weird, odd thing that I can't even begin to describe. Poker is good because it's reliable. Chances are that when you crave poker, a poker game will be available in a short time. Poker will never let you down, and even when you lose, it satisfies your needs, at least at the moment. The poker atmosphere is competitive and funny, and the game requires concentration.

The nice thing about it is it makes me forget everything, even temporarily. It makes me forget all the things that went wrong earlier that day or that week, all the things that I don't want to remember but can't bring myself to forget. Poker is the only way to stay sane during the summer, and it's not because I'm bored.

I feel like poker has robbed me, and not just the money that's come out of my wallet. It feels like poker has taken something away from me, and my whole life feels different. I want my old life back. I'm sorry to give you the bad news, poker, but there are some things more important than you. But if you're all I got, at least I know you'll never let me down.

In the end, I guess poker is all I got left waiting for me at the end of the day. There's going to be enough poker to last me all my widdle kid life, and every time I sit down at the table I'll forget one more thing that I shouldn't remember, and in due time all I'll have left is the anticipation of the next poker game. My old life will be completely phased out and I'll be left with nothing but an empty wallet.

The glamour of the gambling life in the beginning of summer is starting to fade away, and the evil side of poker is starting to rear its ugly head. And then the thought of caring about nothing doesn't seem so bad anymore.

"For to me you are the light from a light bulb that breaks sometimes and the tender warmth inside is released into my life and it smothers me in flames that lick and scorch my face. As the smoke reaches the sky, know I'm burning tonight."