Anthony Ronnie: Blog

The Magnetic Balloons

Today, my sister and I were walking to Walgreens, when we saw a big lot of balloons all tied together on the other side of the street. “Should we get them?” my sister asked, and I responded with an overenthusiastic “Yes!” Well, by some divine intervention, the wind started to pick up and caused the balloons to move into the street. I looked back and I saw that the city bus was headed towards our way, so naturally we began to panic. We really wanted those balloons. Before we knew it, the balloons traveled their way across the street, miraculously dodging each car that passed, as if it had a mind of its own. The wind got heavier and pushed it more and more, and the bus got closer and closer, and for a split second my eyes watered and my grasp became weak… I began to laugh uncontrollably as the collection of balloons landed right in front of me, after dodging both the cars and the bus… There it was, within my reach. So my sister and I each grabbed an end of the string of balloons… took it with us to Walgreens, and when we arrived home later that day, we sucked all the helium out, made funny voices, and laughed the night away. It was awesome.

“On A Man Who Thought”

He wears a lion’s mane
of dreams and megalomania
set apart from harsh reality
asphyxiating his trachea

His pocketbook of grand delusions
existing as such a phantom limb
and everyone knew, all but one
no heart strong enough to tell him

Eternal dreams of a rotting soul

I don’t want to be famous, I don’t want to have millions of fans, I don’t want people idolizing me or screaming at the sight of me like some sort of pop-culture phenom… I don’t want to break records or “set the bar” for a certain industry… I don’t want any of that.

All I want to do is be known for all the wrong reasons, have millions of people not screaming in excitement for my art, but silent with awe-struck nervousness with bouts of speechless intuition. I want the world to not be in my hands, but in my head… I want to rule the world with not power but emotion and dreams. I guess I just want to create something so beautiful that people will literally die to experience it.

That is my eternal dream, and I won’t stop until I obtain it.

“The Chital’s Eulogy and the Endless Cycle of Nativity”

Behold, the lion from behind the green domain

Shadowing its prey, measuring its division

Has but no remorse, no sense, no design

No purpose but to kill, to impair, to destroy

But gazing upon the divine heavens against the icy gust,

There stood the chital, in a daze of ease and symmetry

Naive, pure, and but a child of misfortune’s humor

There it stood, a product of the endless cycle of nativity

My review for “Sucker Punch”- written for my theater class:

The movie “Sucker Punch” relies on its title to bring in audiences that are hoping to watch an action-packed, attention grabbing dogfight. This simple minded choice for a title does no justice for the film; not only does the title have nothing to do with the movie, but it is also misleading. Of course, if you were to watch the previews, you’d expect fight scenes and dramatic visual effects, or what have you. Truth is, while there are scenes of battle and special effects, the context in which they are in seem to be below par. For example, every fight scene in the movie is inside the main character’s head. So basically, they aren’t real. Additionally, these so called battles are so unbelievable, that if I saw them as clips and had no prior knowledge that they were a sort of dream, I’d guess that they were. The moves and combats seem to go so extraordinarily right for the main characters. Every move is perfect, with no mistakes made by the characters (except for some, which are redeemed by some divine intervention and somehow kill the enemy as they recover from their ‘mistake’) and, for some reason, the laws of physics do not apply to this movie. Falling from one hundred feet in the air supposedly only causes you to walk with a limp. More so, the acting is beyond dreadful; it was as though we were watching rejected clips of actresses that were sent to scouting agents in hopes for a part. If these actresses were intentionally chosen from the lowest pile of talents, then I’d feel comfortable at least knowing the producers did this deliberately. But, as reality would have it, that was not the case. Lastly, the weakest part of all: the script. The basis of the script was something along the lines of a psychological action packed thriller. It’s basically “The Matrix” meets “Inception”… meets “300”. I did not like the script, mostly because of the dialogue, which was weak in its ability to progress the story. Towards the end of the movie, the lead actress proclaimed she knew, perhaps by some epiphany (who knows) that she was the one who had to sacrifice herself so that the remaining (all others had died) girl could escape and survive. To me, that was dull, as if we didn’t see that coming. My favorite part of the movie, however, was the end… because I was then able to get myself out of the theater and miles away from this horrible movie.

Love evolved

The thing with people’s expectations of love, especially these days, is they picture it to be some perfect, story-like fantasy. But that’s exactly why they’ll all be disappointed.

 To me, love is not perfect… it isn’t even convenient. But that’s what makes it worth all the pain and suffering. You work for it, you sacrifice things and relationships, and somewhere along the road you’ll realize love isn’t meant to be perfect, it’s meant to be ‘just right’ .

Because you know it’s what you want. Because you know it’s what you need. And that’s why it’s worth something. It’s worth something because love is the only thing that makes you feel important, the only thing that strengthens the heart, and the only thing that makes pain bearable.

Love won’t take away pain, it won’t take away insecurities. It makes everything a little more livable, and it makes getting up every morning worth it.

Then, you are able to get passed the pain and suffering, and realize that all that was before love was not as significant, and not as important. You see, love sometimes does crazy things, and one of those crazy things is that love often makes you forget about the pain. It’s there to soften the blow, to help you get through it.

And maybe then, the pain will no longer be pain but an insignificant emotion that hardly crosses your mind.

Love and pain go together, you wouldn’t know one without the other. So naturally, love doesn’t take pain away, but it makes pain tolerable, and less significant.

That’s love. That’s what love is about.

At least to me, anyways. 

You Asked Me

“Do I ever make you feel beautiful?” And I said: “Yes. Every day. Every time you look at me. Every time you touch me, or talk to me. Every time. I have never believed that I was beautiful in any way, but you make me feel that I am.” I love you Michael. No matter what. And you’re the beautiful one. If you can’t see that, then let me be your eyes.

You will never fully know

How does it feel to have the ability to obtain all I’ve ever wanted and call it your own, leaving me with no stars in my sky as you smile? They were my stars, it was my sun, and only you deserve the black holes that suck the debris away yet I’m the one left with the darkness… now I must hide behind a veil of shame and monstrosity, glaring upon the world looking back at the society that killed my dreams and the fake faces everywhere I go, knowing I will never be able to do anything about it.

Right Here

Have you ever woke up in the middle of the night, and started to feel?
 Have you ever sat alone, in the middle of a dark room, staring off into space as endless thoughts and images race through your mind? Have you ever felt the need to cry, but didn’t really know where the feeling came from? It’s not a bad kind of cry, nor is it a good one… it’s more of a “I need to let it all out” kind of cry.

Have you ever looked back and realized that the things you complain about, the things that you worry about, the things that you force yourself to look over a million times a day, don’t really matter at the end of the day? Have you ever noticed that no matter how much you hate yourself, how much you hate life, how lonely you think you are, how bad you think you have it, you always have it a little bit better than you think you do?

I have.

But have you ever found the strength to lay back down, smile to yourself, and wake up the next morning ready to life the decent life you had all along?

Sometimes I wonder, what takes more strength: Giving up and living life as it comes… or finding that little hope at the end of the night that you’ll wake up excited for the day more than you’re afraid of it?

In my wonderland

So sweet and divine are the words that stream from your lips; and it gets me how my heart skips a beat from every end of your thoughts. If I could swear that your voice was set to a frequency to melt my heart, I’d swear upon the very presence of a living deity. It feels so right, so incredibly perfect knowing that the words were only spoken for me, to me and in many instances about me… and realizing that no one will ever make me feel that way has a sort of effect on me as a ball of yarn has on a kitten. In truth it interests me, because for once in my life I am doing something right. And how you keep my attention, how you make each heartbeat faster, yet slower at the same time, it shows that we are not only perfect but just right. For each other. And as I sit here in complete darkness, staring lovingly as my hands move across the keyboard, I think of what will happen in a week’s time, but I have to reassure myself time and time again that whatever happens is the only thing that could happen, and that things will work out the way they’re supposed to. As my eyes grow heavier, I hear your laughter and voice in the back of my head, smiling to myself because I know I’m that much closer to witnessing it first hand.