The night brings about a crisp, taciturn, and long silence that reverberates throughout the opaque sky and provokes loquacious thoughts. The tranquil night affords solitude, an ephemeral escape from the cacophony of life. The peaceful night, a seemingly endless lull, becomes a playground of rumination, wherein tangled thoughts and emotions seek emancipation.
Once Upon a Time in Hong Kong
Even though the language was a barrier, my time in Hong Kong was glorious and reminded me of why I loved Barcelona so much: you don't need a car to get around. Much like Barcelona, Hong Kong is a metropolis with a super efficient, and intuitive metro system that affords one a cheap and feasible transportation option that eclipses the advantages of owning a car. You see, the ability to travel freely within a densely populated city and reach your destination within minutes fills me with an unabated feeling of autonomy. If you're really pressed with time, or are not a fan of the crowded metro, the option of riding in Hong Kong's iconic, red cab is always an option. You'd be riding in the same style cab featured in the movie Rush Hour 2 with Hong Kong-native, Jackie Chan. In his attempt to follow "Ricky Tang," Detective Carter (played by Chris Tucker) flags down a "taxi" and only succeeds in conveying his instructions to the Cantonese driver after giving him a wad of money. The driver subsequently responds, "Now you're speaking my language."
Busy intersection in Central District, Hong Kong.
I Finally Cut the Cable
I did it. I finally called Comcast and cut the cable. They really tried to get me to reconsider. "It's only an additional $40 dollars a month for all those great channels!" they said. I promptly replied that 40 dollars a month equates to $480 dollars a year for a luxury I honestly do not need. That money could go to my savings for a house!
"Mr. Rivera are you sure?? You're really getting a good deal here for the double play package. I think you should reconsider."
"Not a chance." I said.
It has been a few months since I severed my cable connection with Comcast. The transition to a cable-less life was seamless I must say. My only regret is that I didn't do it sooner. Most people are instantly filled with trepidation at the thought of cutting their cable because much to their oblivion, they've become enslaved by it. So what precipitated my desire to cut my cable? Well, I merely realized I was squandering my time and money, and because time is money, the squandering felt compounded. I also strongly disliked being subjected to so many commercials, especially during NFL and NBA games. What have I been doing in lieu of sitting in front of the TV? I'll tell you. Welcome to my blog.
I hope this post has inspired you to sever your cable connection; but more important, that it has galvanized you into maximizing your potential. Lastly, while I am no longer a subscriber of cable, I still am tied to Comcast because life would be inherently difficult without internet. However, I am patiently awaiting the advent of technology that will supplant cable-based, high-speed internet.
A Tribute To CJ
The following is an excerpt from a reflection paper I wrote in graduate school. This account of his life was written from my perspective.
Clayton Graham, who mostly went by CJ, was a nerdy, short, brown-haired, white, boy with a soft, squeaky voice, who managed to ingratiate himself with the popular crew during our years at Methuen High School. He was known for his intelligence and compassion. Over night it seemed, CJ rocketed to the limelight and began hanging around a lot with the cool kids—those arrayed in Abercrombie and Fitch and Hollister clothing. CJ and I weren’t that close but I respected him because he acknowledged my existence in ways that made me feel somewhat included and that meant a lot to me.
About five years after graduating from high school, one of CJ’s closest friends from our graduating class posted on Facebook that CJ had taken his own life. The post mentioned that he had been suffering from major depression and had struggled emotionally and psychologically after “coming out.” The post also included a recent photo of CJ, whom I would not have recognized had I not known it was him. CJ had gained a lot of weight since his days at MHS. His eyes looked heavy and forlorn; his countenance bespoke misery and despair. His injured, half smile conveyed suffering. I could only imagine how tormented and conflicted he felt. CJ was in the closet during all of high school, at a time when everyone was basking in their heteronormative privilege, much to his deprivation. I imagined a stoic, high-school CJ, who deep inside was an emotional wreck, slowly collapsing from the psychological weight of his burden, his secret. I imagined him contemplating whether his friends would accept him if had come out. I also imagined how events like the prom served only to intensify his feelings of despondency. CJ, and other students in the closet, were psychologically encumbered. They were wading gingerly through the thick, heteronormative fog of high school, struggling to find safe spaces amid a sea of oblivion. But no safe spaces were in sight at Methuen High; no place for CJ to unload the emotional freight that was suppressing his ability to self-actualize.
CJ may be gone but his story will continue to remind me that many of us are fighting silent wars everyday. It is these accounts of psychological trauma that pull me back and remind me to slow down in my thinking. The plights of others, whether psychological, emotional, physical, or financial, can linger silently for years especially if a stigma is attached to it. Over the years, I have become more intentional about reexamining my thoughts and challenging my perceptions of others. It is the empathy and compassion that we exhibit everyday that makes this world more enjoyable for everyone.
