Confessions In Cars

"We all do it, I just write about it afterwards" - M.G.C. Martin Garcia-Ceja | 26 | California | poet | visionary | IG: thekidfrommarz_films

[confessionsincars]

“I never knew how strong I could be until the day I started to hate you.” you.”

m.g.c.

[confessionsincars]

The Finishline

“We were almost there,

but not quite.”

- m.g.c.

[teampouty]

[confessionsincars]

Never do. #rebelwithoutacause

[kevinelezaj]

[confessionsincars]

Long Drives to Nowhere

“And once you get there, it’ll be such a beautiful place.”

I thought I had this all figured out by now- remembering those countless stars I saw under his body, as I was being proposed with this kisses under the infinite midnight sky, remembering how I was ignored and casted away at the dispense of my sheer resistance because I said, “no”, remembering what he said love would feel like- sadly that’s not how life works. He is here, the boy who made me love his broken soul, kneeling in front of me offering me a tab of acid.

I’m not sure about this anymore.

- M.G.C.

[confessionsincars]

And once you get there, it'll be such a beautiful place.

the dealer

[confessionsincars]

Under Passing Clouds

I used to think a lot about what I wanted to be when I grew up? Roller coaster engineer? A chef? An artist? As a kid, I use to lay out by the green hill at school and view the clouds from underneath. All the other kids played and laughed during recess, while I wasted my time laying out on my grass bed, slowing down time all around me. It’s as if no sound, no life existed. I would lay there, as clouds created shadows crossing the blue infinite- Gods walking over children like Mothers. I ambitiously dreamt every time I looked above, hoping that one day I would feel like clouds in the sunlight. Whatever I wanted to be, needed to feel like being close to heaven. But, I knew then things were going to be different for me. 

You see, I saw everything; everything when I was a child. I knew I could stop time, or see into the future, or make people feel like a warm summer sun kiss- ordinary people can’t do this. But, I also saw my dark fate in those clouds. I cried knowing it’s not going to be what I want it to be. 

Shit, the bell rang. 

- M.G.C.

[confessionsincars]

WI I L D C H I L D

IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING?

CHAPTER 3

The climb from the parking lot- this dirt-covered patch of unused land the event coordinators just decided to use last minute as parking- to the small embankment on the side of the hills is awkward. Everyone is either kicking rocks and debris from the trail, or discussing how fuck up they all are trying to get. I find it amusing for a brief moment, anything really to ease my mind from this place. I wonder where that girl is?

“Looking for someone?”

“No. Why?”

“I dunno, you keep looking around.”

Ignoring Brian, I keep on walking.

“It’s that girl, huh?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw you staring at a chick when I was getting out. She came here with a guy, you know?

“She was staring at me, okay? It was weird. Looked like she didn’t want to be here.”

“Hey, maybe if you find her inside, you guys can both be weird together. She doesn’t want to be here, and neither do you. It’s perfect!”

“If I didn’t want to be here, I would have stayed home.”

Sometimes- but very often- Brian and I get into these conversations that always turn awkward. Both Carmen and Mark were too up ahead to notice, trying to put their lost-prevention bracelets that Brian bought. I wish things weren’t always like this.

We continue walking in silence into a bike route that directly connected to the security lines up on the hill. Passing rows of Porta Potties, where the lines extending back into the dirt lot are, we come across what appears to be highly-modestly dressed adults and teenagers holding up signs before a gated line. I’m guessing they can’t go beyond the small security line they managed to create. We get closer and the message on their signs become sharper.

The Devil is Alive!

Brian bumps into my shoulder to get my attention.

“Ignore them, they’re always here.”

I change my walking pace. I can see what their posters and flyers meant. This place is just not right, if you really think about it. But at a moment of no return, why else would you want to change you mind, having considered how much money people really drop on stuff like this.

We walk pass the small protesting event, avoiding any of their approach. Out of nowhere, this woman, wearing a light pink blouse and conservative tan dress, catches me off guard, startling me in the process.

“Don’t go in there.”

She hands me a minimalist all-black brochure, with a gold cross right in the center of it.

“Sorry, ma’am. It’s too expensive not to go in.”

Brian takes the brochure from my hands before I had time to look into it, folds it into a small square, and slips it into one of the small sleeve of my Camelback water pack. Brian provokes me to move on forward, but the conservative woman keeps her gaze on me.

[confessionsincars]

W I L D C H I L D

RELAX, EVERYONE’S DOING IT

CHAPTER 2

I have no idea what is really going on at this point. The only thing I define ‘real’ at this moment is the persistent choppy jump cuts and interludes of different scenes that were vaguely skipping in my head, like fast-forwarding to good parts in movies. Only this time the movie is our broken afternoon drive to the humid mountains that lead into the San Manuel Amphitheater, the site of this season’s huge county rave. In one second, we’re all yelling inside the car full of slow-motion excitement, the passing of weed smoke, and flying gold sparkles of beer and booze in the air, while in another, we’re all finding ways to tuck our drugs into our ball sacks, vaginas, tits, or foreskin before we head off with the crowds that swarm the dirt parking lot. Each of us going through our own series of personal pat-downs and swipes, as we sit parked. People go to jail for this shit, and the worst part of getting caught is having to sit in a cell, sobering up, and realizing how much money you fucked yourself over in one mistake. The cool thing about this is that I don’t have to worry about any of this shit, this thought. Brian’s got me covered.

“Alright, get your shit and leggo.” 

Mark Ortega, the driver of our group, tends to lean on the authority side of our group, without him, no one would move or do shit. It helps that he’s buff as fuck and the star basketball player at our school because people just listen and do what he says. It’s that easy for him.

“Why aren’t you finished yet, babe?”

“I can’t. It’s too much and taste like shit.”

Dressed in an outfit only a father could cry his eyes from, Carmen Maria attempts to chug the rest of her Four Loko right before we all get out of Mark’s 1967 Red Ford Mustang.

“Here, I’ll help you,” says Mark.

“Aww, thanks, Babe... that’s real sweet of you... Now can you guys get the fuck out? I can’t fit back here, damn. Go be cute outside.”

I see trails upon trails of other ravers leaving their cars, while most are still pre-gaming just outside aisles and rows of cars in the summer heat. Some are sniffing Coke off their car dashboards, some are already exchanging kandi and cuffs, and some are still trying to figure out how they are planning to hide their drugs. I find it ironic how similar we all are, in aspects that we’re all doing the exact same thing, but we all exist in the world we choose to live in. 

As the sounds of talk from Carmen, Mark, and Brian fade and disappear into a quiet white noise, I sense this overwhelming feeling of dread that something isn’t right, as if someone was watching me from afar. It overpowers my sense of control, leaving me feeling paralyzed. The only thing I can control is my head. I look and look in slow rotations to the exact point of focus where I feel eyes beating me down and I spot a girl, just staring right as me. I can feel the distant glare as we exchange and lock glances. She is a pretty cute girl, who seems unfit to be in this type of environment- sweet innocent face saying otherwise. Time seems ours as we share a weird moment of synchronicity, where we share no related circumstance, but this moment. Her body shows signs of anxiety , empower her mood. She looks worried, like something is wrong. 

Like a fresh yellow daisy out in lush green fields, she stands out amongst everyone else. Wearing a yellow bikini tops, deep olive green skimpy cargo shorts, Raybands, and black classic Vans with socks that reminded me of the 80s at the knew, she stands alone looking for something that isn’t here, at least not from me. 

“Hey, dude...”

The trance broke. Everything that went away- the sounds of Mark crushing the can with his huge arms, Carmen applying a last finishing coat of bright red lipstick, and and the sounds of ravers outside dragging their feet in the dirt- came back into loud focus. I look over and see Brian, simply looking a bit bothered. Maybe because he caught me staring at a girl.

“You okay?”

“Yea,” I quickly said. I hesitated.

I grab my blue Camelback water pack and my new lost prevention rave bracelet and forgot what I was even thinking about. 

[confessionsincars]

W I L D C H I L D

WILD FOR THE NIGHT, F*** BEING POLITE

CHAPTER I

I rather listen to some softer, nature-like sounds than having to listen to this stupid trap and house music, but I guess I have no real say in anything at this moment, seeing as I’m new to this whole EDM thing. They know I’ll be grilled if I mention anything that sounds like a contradiction, as all newbies once are. Maybe, it wont be that bad. Trying to seem pensive, as I look out to fast-moving blurs that resemble townhouses, open fields, and an amazing mountain side view from my side view- while trying to tune into the music I prefer coming from my headphones- seems pointless.

“Hey?”

The sounds of rainstorms and thunder faintly play in the abundance of sound distractions coming from the car stereo system.

“Hey?”

The sudden thrust of energy coming from behind my left should startles me.

“Yo, you good?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m just asking since you’re over here listening to some shit you like, when you should be here with us- raging.”

I start to take off my headphones. My other friends in the front row seat were too carried away to notice our side conversation.

“I can go home, if you want. I’ll call an Uber.”

“Okay, okay... I’m sorry. Can you just have a little fun today, okay? I got you this ticket ‘cause you’re my bro. Fuck school, fuck midterms next week; live in the moment. You stressing yourself too much, kid.”

He’s right.

“Here, drink this.”

“What is it?”

“Worry about that shit later.”

He hands me a brown paper bag that held his drink out of visible view grab. I tip back the drink slowly and start coughing out of pure sweet disgust. Brian starts laughing me as I pull the paper bag down to the base, revealing a red-orange camo designed Four Loko. The cheap flavor of imitation strawberry lemonade burns down my throat and into my body.

“No, no, no... keep drinking.”

I gulp as fast as I can. He’s right. I should stop worrying. Everything is going to be fine. 

“There you go. that’s the Alex I know.”

Brian can be an ass sometimes, but that was his character. Not many people know this, but he’s fucking buff teddy bear at heart. No matter how many pounds he can bench, he’s too sweet at times.

“Shut up,” I said as I wipe my chin.

“Look, you’ll be fine. You got us. You got me. Nothing’s going to happen,” Brian said as he puts his arm around my shoulder. “Remember: it’s all in your head.”

He was right again.

“Here, I was going to wait ‘till we got to the parking lot, but here’s yours.”

He unzips a large black gym bag, and pulls out a green silicon bracelet.

“What’s cool about it is if you give this- right here- a quick turn...” 

The bracelet starts to blink a bright green hue. 

“See, now we can’t get lost. I have one and now you have one... plus they do too. Keep that one and I’ll give them their’s when we get there.”

“Thanks, Brian.”

“No problem. I remember my first time too. Like I said, “Nothing bad will happen to you, unless you want it to be.” Ready for the best fucking night of your life?”

He kept our exchange smaller, private from our friends up in front. I enjoy when he does that.

 “Ayyy... let’s cheer motherfuckers!” 

Brain breaks our talk and interrupts the music pulling over his yell. In the upfront driver and passenger seats, stereotypical couple Mark and Carmen bring their hidden Four Lokos from between their legs and raise them high to the roof of the car. The car erupts to the loud sound-mixes of Skrillex and our chants as we head on forward towards the mountains of San Bernardino County. 

[confessionsincars]

Terrance, I Love You

It wasn’t suppose to start this way, but I guess that’s what happens when you try so hard to avoid the inevitable. You’re right. Maybe we were crazy, stupid in love, or maybe we tried so hard to believe we were so wrong for each other. Because in the end, we will never stop caring, we will never stop yearning for each other’s touch. You said ‘forever’, and I meant it.

- M.G.C.

[confessionsincars]

Rush

Couldn’t ever imagined

I needed you so badly. 

Come ride with me, Daddy. 

Give it to me savagely; 

So tear me apart.

Sweat like clean brail to the touch,

swear I couldn’t get enough.

You were just enough.

Baby, we can’t do no badly.

Climax into me.

Do it to me.

- M.G.C.

[confessionsincars]

The House on Ivy Lane

Don’t wake him up. 

He’s the nice old man who lives on the block. Kids like to call him, “Grandpa”, but you know him as Mr. Cooper- the war veteran who sleep walks at night. 

At 3:00 a.m. every morning, Daren gets woken up by his loud crashing front door, as Mr. Cooper sleep walks down Ivy Lane.

Maria, the prettiest girl on the block, convinces Daren to first sneak into his house him, when Mr. Cooper is away at his nightly walk.

Then Daren finds Mr. Cooper’s strange markings and symbols all over his house, and a photo of a missing girl.

As Daren concludes to his shocking theory, it’s already too late.

He’s back.

[confessionsincars]

So, what’s up?

You know, I’m just going to throw this out there and say it: I know for a fact most people won’t even bother to read this message and I think that makes it ‘okay’. I mean, it’s just a moment out of my life that I decided to randomly sit down and invest my own personal time to write whatever I’m about to say. 

Things haven’t been going the way I imagined since I was younger. I was always convinced that everything that was going on in my life was caused by my wrong-doings. And I get that. I understand that in certain situations, I knew the outcome of things if I just simply “played along”. I went with it at first. I knew things would work out the way I wanted, but the problem with all that was- the sheer idea- I knew what I was doing was all entirely wrong. I knew these outcomes right before my eyes, and yet, I would sit there and simply “go along”. I cause the mistakes to rest upon my arms, extended because of the weight they exist on.

In my world, nothing is what it seems. Life triggers these littles glimmers of hope, that are all disguised by the voices of support that I always ignore. I was too stubborn to accept the idea that I needed help.

Now, things are getting better. I mean, I’m still trying to pursue the unachievable dream of telling stories, but there are some things even I can’t control that are helping me believe that I can get there somehow.

Maybe soon enough, I can be busy as fuck. 

“A busy man is a good man.”

I still laugh at the quote because I believe it to be true, which ironically was given to me as a piece of advice by my first Pledge Father, who contradicted everything it meant to be True Gentlemen.

Asshole.

Anyways, I’m currently in recent negotiations for a Lexus dealership car commercial that I’ve already shot, as well as a trial court case serving as a stringer.

Kind of like Nightcrawler minus the deaths.

[confessionsincars]

Thanks for reminding me of a feeling I never wanted to remember.

flashbacks

[confessionsincars]

As the sunset waves crash in orange glares and deep sea blue sparkles against the dying day, I could feel something was watching me. I feel it in the back of my neck, electric pulses raising my hairs. I sense this presence just watching me from afar, as I stare off deeply into the Pacific Ocean. I look over my left shoulder and see nothing, but a blank empty parking lot. I knew something was there unseen. I can feel it. I smile at this feeling I imagine as a person, to remind them that I am 'okay'. I look back towards the beach, the waves, the ocean, the sea- life beyond our understanding and come to an understanding: everything will be okay.  .

inner thoughts of death

[confessionsincars]

wunderlust

Sometimes I wonder why you won’t ever go away, like an ex I want to forget. You keep coming back to me when I always try to put you into this oblivion, where the souls of countless many rest in a dark silent abyss where all dreams go to die young. I found you in the love of life moving, a rarity that many cannot have, but be born with. I try with all my strength to ignore your callings of my name, reminding me of how much I dream the good dream. 

Is this real? 

Am I yours for the taking? 

Please, tell me this if is my purpose of igniting the world.

- M.G.C.