Bleeding Hearts – A Random Thought from A Man Who Broods

Posted by Rock Kitaro on May 26, 2013
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By Rock Kitaro
Date: May 26, 2013

brokenheartwbandaid

Bleeding Heart – An informal label applied to someone regarded as excessively sympathetic, of having sympathetic without warrant.

I have a lot of female cousins on my mom’s side of the family. I have all brothers, but a lot of female cousins. Growing up with my brothers…I didn’t hear condescending underhanded remarks. With us boys, we openly dissed each other in good fun. We called each other names and talked shit well until we’re rolling in laughter or coming close to blows…but hardly any condescending insults masked as blunt unbiased and indifferent statements.

One of the things I heard a lot growing up…usually from females… “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Now this…is probably one of the dumbest things you can say to someone who looks like they’re going through hard time. It’s almost as bad as telling someone you’ve outright offended, that you’re “sorry they feel that way.”

If someone is worked up about something. Or if something is obviously weighing heavily on the person’s mind. For you to tell them, that it’s not that big of a deal is incredibly obnoxious and inconsiderate. While it may not be a big deal to you, it’s apparently a big deal to them. I mean…it’s written on their faces for craps sake. The lack of insight isn’t intentional, I’m sure.

That’s why I don’t get angry when I hear such statements, but rather just look at them perplexed, silently thinking to myself, “how could you say that? You must not know the whole situation? And even if you think you do, you obviously don’t understand, or lack the ability to put yourself in another person’s shoes. In which case, the shortcomings are your own.”

To get to the point of what I’m trying to say… I have a problem with carrying too much. You know how there’s the term “unrequited love” referring to how you’re in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same way about you. Well, the story of my life revolves around caring about people who could careless that I care, or people with a pocket full of fucks who just couldn’t give one to me.

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always been this way. About animals, about the homeless, about orphans, about people I didn’t even know. When I was 9-years-old and learned about the Battle of the Alamo, turns out that I have a ridiculous amount of care of people who aren’t even alive anymore. Don’t even get me started about slavery and the Jews in the Holocaust. Or that notorious incident in Nanjing that they neglected to teach me in public school.

For those thinking I’m sensitive or soft, let me tell you, I brood…I don’t grieve. I brood. Brooding is to think about something, often in a dark or melancholy manner. I have this um…This narcissistic belief, that no matter what…there’s always something we can do. The idea of simply accepting things as just the way they are…yeah…hahaha…not in my world. Not in the one life that I’ve been given.

And the questions I would hear in my head from my doubters when I give that declaration are usually: “Well, Rock. What do you want to do about it? What do you think you can do? Who do you think you are? You can’t control everything.”

The people who ask me those questions are completely missing the fucking point. The real question they should be asking is why do I care at all. And even if they did ask, the answer I’d give them wouldn’t satisfy them. Because the honest truth is that I just don’t know. I kills me how much I care without knowing why I care. I think its because I have this great love for human beings. But at the same time, I have a cynical view about the majority of the general public. So what gives…

Hahaha! I could go into a theory about when I look into the mirror, I don’t just see one of me, but I see five of me…but that’s for another topic.

If you’re a bleeding heart…or if someone’s giving you crap for caring too much or having too much sympathy for another or others. I tell you, that I know it hurts. It’s unpleasant, and its even worse when you’re slighted aren’t for this quality. But that’s all right. Just learn to hide how much you care and know when to share it. That bleeding heart is passion. Passion leads to motivation. Motivation leads to accomplishment. Accomplishment…just isn’t something garden variety motherfuckers can lay claim to.

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The Boy who got killed on Corona Ave. – A Stand Alone Short Story

Posted by Rock Kitaro on May 20, 2013
Posted in: Original Stories. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

By Rock Kitaro
Date: May 13, 2013

Big Bang – “Stay” –

bjbehindbar5

            The following work is completely fictional. Some spelling is incorrect intentionally for flavor.

“…I’m sorry what?”

“English, motherfucker! Do you speak it!” Said another officer before laughing his ass off and wandering down the hall.

“…Royes…” Det. James mumbled as a double-stream of smoke blew out of his nose. “I apologize on his behalf. The graveyard shift on a Tuesday night is boring for all the uni’s.”

I rolled my head and batted my eyelashes. My head was bangin from two white Russians and rum and these pigs was asking me every damn question in the book.

“Mmmhmm…Whatever muthafucker. Go ahead on… talkin about the graveyard duty. I got a double shift at Home Depo in four hours!” I wasn’t yelling at him. Just stessin ma point.

“Then, what were you doin at a bar on Corona Avenue?” James asked.

“That’s my business, you pale face motherfuckuh. Don’t worry about it!”

“You’re right. That is your business. So I won’t worry about it. Instead, I’ll handle mine. All right? And my business is all about figuring out what the fuck happened at the Smooth Umbrella at around 10:30pm on a goddamn weeknight.”

“So why are you asking me!?” I shouted, raising my voice to match his.

“Because you literally puked all over the hood of my Buick!” He said, squinting his eyes and moving his chair closer.

“What? You wanna a special certificate? You want a cookie for being dragged down here? You’re an adult, princess. Get your shit together and answer my goddamn questions! And let me tell you. You better drop the attitude before I run an intoxilyzer on ya ass. Toss a DUI in your lap. Yeah! Believe me, princess. That shits hard to get off your record. Mugshots all over the goddamn internet. Good luck picking up a guy who Google searches ya ass. Try me.”

Detective Patrick James. I saw from his badge that he was a senior officer and from the way he switched it up on me, I can see why. Caucasian, but he could talk like a nigga if he wanted to. Didn’t blame him. In fact, I respected it. I don’t like talking to cops or suits but James got raw on me all the sudden. Made me smile. But if he ain’t stop waving that muthafuckin pen all up in my face, they might had to be somethin.

“Tell me what happened, Michelle. Start from the beginning, alright. Tell me what you saw.” James said as he moved a Dixie cup of coffee my way.

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An Attack on the Hand-Me-Down Statements that you heard growing up.

Posted by Rock Kitaro on May 12, 2013
Posted in: Food for Thought. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

By Rock Kitaro

Date: May 8, 2013

“Stress” by Justice – Just some thinking music –

-1

Caution: The following rant contains curse words and piercing ideas that will more than likely enter your subconscious and flip over table. Read at your own discretion.
ALSO, I’d like to point out that as I grow, I’m open to the fact that my opinions will probably change or extend themselves. But I still want to post them, kind of like marking my progress of thought.

More and more, I’m beginning to get the sense that my entire career as a story teller will be dedicated to tearing down the walls of hand-me-down statements you heard growing up. Those statements adults and older teens spit at you that sounded wise and mature. As if to contest them in any way would make you sound immature, childish and full of spite.

Aigoo…

What’s a hand-me-down statement? Here are some hand-me-down statements. When I read them, for some reason, I hear the voice of some stuck up self-righteous babysitter spitting them out to me…Everytime, it’s the darnest thing.

            “Two wrongs don’t make it right!”

            “Girls are more mature than boys!”

            “You shouldn’t care about what others think!”

            “Sticks and stones may break my bones…”

            “Family will always be there!”

            “You can’t pick and choose your family!”

            “You’re not the only one in the world going through this!”

…I could go on for hours…

…Two wrongs don’t make it right…Yes it does.

If someone goes out and kills someone. They’ll be caught. Locked up. And either spend the rest of their life in prison or executed. But isn’t holding someone against their will…wrong? Isn’t execution, the act of killing someone, wrong? But the killer did something wrong. And we mask that second “wrong” as punishment. Making it…all right?

I digress…

In this world, there are these bastards…the assholes and bitches who need “problems” in their lives in order to feel like they’re living life. I’ve heard the idea before, but out of my love for the greater humanity, I refused to believe it. I thought to myself… “Who would actually want that kind of stress? Like, actually welcome it?”

The individuals I’m talking about are the ones who if they were tossed in a world where everyone treated them with respect, loved and cherished them, showed them nothing but kindness and generosity…THEIR MINDS WOULD EXPLODE! They need that conflict. And worst!!!! They don’t want to do anything about that conflict besides bitch about it!

And my dumbass actually listens to them. I actually take in what they’re saying, like a naïve little boyscout. I commiserate with them. And I don’t just say, “I’m sorry you’re going through that.” Instead, I actually put forth an effort to come up with a solution to their problems.

wickedwitchmelting

SOLUTIONS?

NO!!!!!

Solutions to these people are like the water to the Wicked Witch of the East…or West. Whichever one that melts.

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Writing about Fictional Crimes against Humanity

Posted by Rock Kitaro on May 6, 2013
Posted in: Food for Thought. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

hhahand of friendship

It’s always a heavy thing for me to write about a terrible incident that’s purely fictional, yet realistic.

I worry about those who may use my inventions as a blue print to carry out those incidents. Much like the movie “The Raven.” Should I not write them? It would be a bit hypocritical of me, I think. Once upon a time, I scoffed at rappers who brushed off responsibility when young kids idolized their ghetto mentality. If the day comes…I won’t brush off the responsibility. My conscience will be crushed, but I’ll continue to write regardless. If you were to ask me why, fully aware of the consequences…I’d tell you its because its worth the risk for a good story.

The Meaning Behind “Dragon Ash” – My exploration of Jpop and Kpop

Posted by Rock Kitaro on March 31, 2013
Posted in: About the Author, Original Stories. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

The Meaning Behind “Dragon Ash” – My exploration of Jpop and Kpop
By Rock Kitaro
Date: March 26, 2013

Dragon Ash

Dragon Ash

“Be Stronger, Fly Higher, Don’t Be Afraid”

Those are the opening lyrics to Dragon Ash’s “Underage Song,” a song dedicated to the youth, inspiring them to strive no matter what.

I’m currently in the midst of writing the second episode of one of my short stories. The “Dragon Ash” series I’ve created is named after my favorite band. Not my favorite Japanese band. Not my favorite rock band. But favorite band, period. And out of respect and overwhelming gratitude, I felt it was high-time I explained myself. If by reading the end of this memoir, members of Dragon Ash thinks I should change the title of my story, I will.

Let me take you back to the end of 2004. In the midst of my senior year of high school something was happening to me. I think the last English CD I bought was Slipknot’s “Vol. 3 Subliminal Verses.” After that, I confess that I couldn’t help but to simply download my music. But the music I took an interest in downloading wasn’t American made songs. My dormant rebellious nature kicked it up a notch and I think I just got fed up with English lyrics. I think after 18 years of life, I got tired of hearing the same lyrics over and over again. I felt that I had heard every possible way that an artist could overextend “why” or say “I love you”. Not to mention, the kind of music that was clouding the airwaves during this time was just…just terrible. And so…I moved away from American music for a brief period of time.

Using filesharing sites like limewire, I began with downloading instrumentals. Music from anime, video games like Need for Speed and background music from movies like Daredevil and Vin Diesel’s XXX. My friends back then understandably thought it was puzzling, as did I for a time. But then I found a similarity between those instrumentals and metal, another genre I discovered a liking for at the time.

With some metal songs from artists like System of a Down and Slipknot, until I looked up the lyrics, other than the main chorus I had no idea what they were saying. And on a subconscious level, I think I preferred it that way. I couldn’t articulate “why” back then, but I think I was tired of lyrics dictating to me what to think, how I should feel and how I should go about situations. When I listen to music, I want to simply feel good. And 2004’s mainstream music kind of made me feel shitty because I wasn’t and still don’t, feel like I’m part of the mainstream.

Giving you this background information was crucial to help you understand how I was able to transition into what happens next because something spectacular happened.

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Aida and Eliza – Short Story Prequel to the Three Kings of Ybor Saga

Posted by Rock Kitaro on March 17, 2013
Posted in: Original Stories, Tales from Ybor. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

By- Rock Kitaro
Date Started: March 1st 2013
Date Finished: March 8th 2013

My Chemical Romance – “Teenagers”

grey-cat-in-the-snow-wearing-purple-scarf

Introduction –

Pious and good-natured college student, Aida reminisces about the day she first met the infamous leader of August the 18th, Eliza Christie. Even as children, Eliza exuded the personality of someone who would one day make men bow down before her. And while the two were initially thick as thieves, equal but opposite and joined at the hip during their waddling days, there was one incident that would scar Aida and change the way she saw her childhood friend.  It was the day that Eliza released an inner demon that would go on to dictate her violent need for retaliation for the rest of her life.

Aida Jenazzo - potential cast, Ashley Rickards

Aida Jenazzo – potential cast, Ashley Rickards

“Every time I open my mouth, I taste ice. That’s how fucking cold it is.”

Now, was it necessary for her to curse? Probably not. She wasn’t foul-mouthed. She was just used to being around people who talked that way. Understandable the way it would rub off on a thirteen-year-old, an impressionable age, so we were told. Impressionable…that’s one way to put it. In retrospect, I like to think Eliza was groomed to behave the way a single father whose occupation was law enforcement would’ve wanted her to behave. Who knew she’d grow up to be one of the nation’s most notorious outlaws, or folk hero. Depending on whom you’re asking.

Back then, her father was a headstrong young detective in the world’s most dangerous police department. Being that he was a single parent and constantly on call, Eliza was entrusted to stay with my family almost every other weekend and on some school nights. My mom and her father were old friends from before I was even born, so we became like a second family to her.

I remember a time where I used to sit inside all day. My family lived in Oldsmar, the outskirts of the city away from all of the crime, fast cars and helicopters. It was a peaceful time. My older brothers, Jamie and Justin are twins and everything you’d expect from a pair of hot-blooded Italian upstarts. My little sister was the baby of the family leaving me as the middle child. So I didn’t really receive a lot of attention, nor did I ever really want it. Just give me an antique paperback book that I checked out. Or leave me alone to practice some Beethoven for the afternoon and I was in heaven. Staying out of trouble. Staying away from risks. Just happy. By myself.

Then entered Elizabeth Christie. I remember the first day I laid eyes on her. I was playing a recital in the living room…my improvised version of “Moonlight Sonata”. From my position in the living room, I saw my mom opening the front door to the detective. It was a rainy day. A foreshadow I should’ve observed. I didn’t stop playing. I just slowed down in tempo as I watched them in the foyer. After taking the girl’s raincoat, my mom pointed her out to me. And in approached a green-eyed beauty with long wavy blond hair that would provoke envy from any aspiring pageant entry. Green seemed to be a common theme with her as she was always wearing it. Either in her tops, or her skirts, or some blaring necklace, you couldn’t catch Eliza without any sort of green on her.

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A Line Where Modesty Leads to Depression

Posted by Rock Kitaro on March 14, 2013
Posted in: Food for Thought. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

the-suns-fortress-marc-adamus

By Rock Kitaro
March 14, 2013

(Thinking Music) Nujabes – “Reflection Eternal” –

The following are just my thoughts conjured in the wake of a couple of discussions I had. In which I came to the conclusion that for some people, complimenting yourself may be a little bit more than necessary. Cause don’t hold your breath if you’re expecting some from your peers. Unless you go fishing that is…

I had a conversation with a lady friend the other day, where she criticized me for calling myself charismatic. She said that I’m not supposed to call myself charismatic and that others are supposed to do that. Otherwise it just looks bad on my part.

First off, I’d like to point out that its moments like these that reassures me that I’m not the arrogant jackass some individuals of my generation make me out to be. Cause if I was, I wouldn’t even be considering her thoughts, but label it as bullshit the moment she uttered the words.

She went on to say, as another person once pointed out, that it’s hard to decipher my personality because my behavior and my words contradict each other, they change like the weather.

So basically, I had to spill out for this girl that I behave differently depending on who I’m around and the environment that I’m in. Kind of like wearing a mask to guard and protect my fragile heart. (no lie, I might have fucked this metaphor up when I told it to her, so for that, I don’t blame her for still being confused)

But the point is, this is the second time I’ve had to explain this to a girl. And when I do, they seem so stunned or shocked. Today’s pop culture labels this behavior as “fake” or “pretentious”. I think it’s all so silly. I think its human nature. EVERYBODY FREAKING DOES THIS! Everyone changes their behavior, chooses their words more cautiously, depending on whom you’re talking to and where you’re at.

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America’s Hidden Beauty Queens – Pitch for Bravo, TLC or Lifetime

Posted by Rock Kitaro on March 8, 2013
Posted in: Original Stories. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , . 1 Comment

Angela Sarafyan

By – Rock Kitaro

Date: March 8, 2013

Hollywood and Broadway of New York is supposedly saturated with the most beautiful people in the world. In magazines and on almost every show, we see police officers, office clerks, doctors associates and almost every occupation type-casted with models and your stereotypical ideal of what beauty is perceived to be. Maybe its because I’m a rebel where I’ve never been swayed by what the magazines and billboards tell me, but to this day, I still say, that I’ve seen more attractive women behind the counters at a supermarket or sitting at a desk in a cubicle, than I have on TV or in the movies. (Specifically in Dallas and the lovely Tampa Bay)

So I propose this. What if there was an hour-long show, where people from all over America, send in an e-mail with a Facebook photo of someone they know or work with, in which they declare that this employee, being male or female, is a “Hidden Beauty.” After a screening process, the producers pick out three individuals and take a camera to their place of business where they do a segment on what this individual does and what he or she aspires to do.

The last segment would be a bonus “Diamond in the Rough.” The Diamond in the Rough would be someone who doesn’t look particularly attractive at first glance, but others see the potential of this man or woman looking like a rockstar if they made a few simple changes.

It would be a surprise to the individuals. They wouldn’t see it coming. The host or hosts would come out of nowhere and say something along the lines of “You have been selected as this weeks Hidden Beauty Queen.” And it would turn out that this beauty queen is like, some secretary for a sanitation department or an overnight stocker for a grocery store. The individuals chosen can’t work in the fashion or entertainment industry; otherwise it would defeat the purpose for this show. Also…wouldn’t make it official or anything, but I wouldn’t chose anyone who’s already married.

What is the purpose for this show?

It’s to show the American viewers, the people at home who work 9-5 jobs and deal with the stress of ordinary life that they are just as beautiful as the individuals they admire. It is my theory that some of the most beautiful men and women aren’t even aware of how unique they are. This show is made to boost esteem and confidence. To make average ordinary people feel good about themselves and to be thankful for the attributes they’ve been blessed with. Some might say that they don’t care, or that looks aren’t important to them. But that’s just what they say…And kudos to them for saying it…I guess.

But I will go so far as to say that most people look in the mirror before heading out in the morning. Even if they don’t give a fuck, they still hold themselves to a standard seen by either what their peers or doing or what they’re family members are doing. And at the root of that standard of acceptable appearance, is what they’ve seen via the media.

Inspiration for this idea –

No lie, last night I was watching “Watch What Happens Live” on Bravo (I get paid to watch this show) where a fan asked Jennifer Love Hewitt from “The Client’s List” why all of her clients are hot men. The fan asked, “shouldn’t they all be disgruntled?” At which Hewitt replied, “on Lifetime, they’re hot men.” Which prompted a round of applause.

I found it funny because I’ve been thinking about this before. Like in all seriousness, I can’t remember the last time I saw an attractive police officer. It’s getting to the point where beauty in itself is cliche. The idea of “sex sells” is belittling to the average viewer, as if we aren’t friggen aware of what producers are trying to pull over our eyes.

PS. The photo is of actress Angela Sarafyan. Just using her photo as an example, sadly I don’t think I have any friends who would let me use their photo as an example. Not without a fuss, anyways… 😀

Can you say that you trust yourself?

Posted by Rock Kitaro on January 17, 2013
Posted in: Food for Thought. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , . 2 Comments

Thinking Music

thinking+man+2

Can you say that you trust yourself?

Not necessarily to believe in yourself in accomplishing your goals. But what I mean, is your feelings or opinions about another individual. Or about a situation. When you make a decision about someone or something, is it based on what you believe or what you want to believe? And if you do trust yourself and make a decision based on what you think you know…how accurate are you? I know this sounds convoluted and all over the place…but lately…I can’t get these questions out of my head.

Introducing Petty, a character from Ybor

Posted by Rock Kitaro on January 13, 2013
Posted in: Character Bios. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment
Petty

Petty

Angela Pettigrew (aka Petty)–

Braden’s protégé and assistant. Age 16. Snow-white skin, long fluid black hair, petite figure with small dark eyes. Like Braden, Petty is a sword-fighting prodigy under the tutelage of Takizawa. Born and raised in the slums of east Ybor, Petty’s mother and father were druggies with the father acting as a low level pusher for a Black mob boss. Both parents treated her like crap, creating a sense of distain that was amplified to hatred the day they accidentally left her younger sister in an apartment with no heat. Petty was six years old and at school. She came home to find her younger sister dead of hypothermia.

Two years later, Petty’s disturbing behavior of violence and lack of empathy saw her expulsion from school. With no one to pick her up and in a fit of rage, Petty charged into the warehouse owned by her father’s boss. Moments later, that warehouse was hit by the syndicate in a raid for unpaid debts. Petty hid a closet as the boss and her father were viciously cut down by none other than a sixteen-year-old Braden Pierce.

When another syndicate enforcer saw Petty and felt a need to eliminate the witness, Braden stepped in refusing to have children murdered on his watch. Braden then gave Petty a smaller spare katana and the long white snowcoat on his back. Braden had no idea that this girl would one day grow up to be one of his most dependable assets and the syndicate’s future ace-in-the-hole.

After witnessing everything that went down, Petty never came back home. She never saw her mother again now did she ever want to. Petty traveled to the Pierce corporate offices, confronted the barrage of security personnel and demanded an audience with Braden Pierce. Instead, she got something better. The godfather, Isaac himself granted her his attention. Petty made her intentions known and presented the sword and coat as proof of what she witnessed.

Surprised and astonished that Braden had an ounce of compassion for someone who always appeared so vicious and disinterested, Isaac willingly took Petty in and sent her to Japan to study under Guile Takizawa.

Through six years of being one of Takizawa’s trainees, Petty turned out to be one of his favorites. Just like Braden, she never questioned anything. She just did as she was told and fearlessly committed herself to the training regardless of the pain or threat of injury. Petty returned with Guile back to the states, still carrying Braden’s short katana, her own long katana, and the long white snow coat that once belonged to Braden.

Initially filled with animosity upon setting her sights on Tampa for the first time in six years, the potential of running into Braden again was a thrill she couldn’t pass up.  Again, impressed by her appearance and growth, Isaac suggests Petty to be Braden’s assistant. David takes the idea and runs with his own intentions of having Petty act as his spy against Braden. Petty deceives both of them, committing her loyalty to Braden and Braden alone. Braden’s enemies are Petty’s enemies. Braden’s ambitions become Petty’s ambitions.