Two weeks sober, and I couldn't feel better. Today was an interesting day to say the least. It started off with a me pulling or tearing something in my left shoulder from my morning work-out. It still hurts 19 hours later. Work was it's usual boring, filled with random bullshit to pass the time, and finally a broken promise and a release two hours later than said, but right on time to expected.
I met an old fling at Barnes and Nobel, and she had coffee. I sat and listened to her explain the intricacies of being a southern belle, and for a 29 year old woman with more education and class than I can shake a stick at, I found myself thinking what's wrong with her? why has she not found a man yet. But like the nice people in this world, the wicked had taken advantage of that alleged weakness.
She sat on the other side of the table across from me, but it wasn't in the way. She sat proper and sipped slowly, cutting into me with her hazel eyes, questioning why I hadn't gotten a cup. Her lipstick is what I couldn't take my mind off of. It stained the well she went back to for warmth and she poured out her life's story. I looked around sometime with great concern, that this would surely be a reality tv series. What is a woman like this doing in Fayetteville? This town is a black-hole, it's a horrible place to live. Raleigh is only an hour North, and with her successes why would she stick around here? Why wouldn't she move back to South Carolina with ma and pa?
Needless to say, despite how interesting the conversation was, I made an excuse and left. It wasn't that she wasn't into me, or that I wasn't into her; it actually still doesn't make a whole lot of sense of what came over me, but I didn't want the night to keep going. I drove to my friend Mollee's and picked up a cup of joe on the way, the scent, the lipstick all still on my mind. I arrived at the familiar house to find it as beautifully chaotic as usual.
The dogs were barking from somewhere out of sight, and the cold air exemplified it along with my breath. I approached the door, hearing the laughter of her kids. As I went to knock, the door swung open and one of my favorite sights was inside. The Mills household. Mollee stood there with her beautiful smile and welcoming glow about her as usual. Any trepidations, any worries and concerns, they're all left on the steps just outside her door. I'm home, I'm with family is the connotation I get. The kids greet me with the same excitement I get if I was just there, or if I hadn't been there in years. It warms my heart, and makes me smile.
Mollee's and my friend Jacob was there. The short man certainly makes up for his vertical challenge with a grand personality and elect stature. The whole scene would be overwhelming for some, with dogs barking, running and jumping around. The kids working so hard to gain your first moments attention, as if this will be the only chance they'll have for it. For me though, it's comforting, it's normal, it's amazing and I cherish every opportunity I get to be there. Mollee's friend and neighborhood neighbor stopped by, as we had to celebrate, not only a promotion and a raise, but life in general, that we may be so fortunate to have such good people, such great friends to enrich our lives. The hours go by fast, and even though I feel the need to go home, the want is for the night to never end. I drive home, and think about how fortunate I am to have people like that in my life. People I love, those who I cherish, and those who allow me to be a part of their lives.
...that's what she said?
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Ordinary World
He sat at the bay window in the living room, staring at the approaching storm threatening on the horizon. It had just gotten dark enough in the day that there was no longer enough natural light to discern anything but the shapes of the different furniture. The colors were gone, all conforming to a soothing, majestic, and chilling clear dark blue.
He stirred from his comfortable seat in the nook of the window and lit a few candles close, then returned to his perch, watching as the sun sank into the sea. The palm trees nearest to him swayed gently and without notice. He brought his legs up into his chest and felt closer to himself. He watched nothing, everything and let it tell it's own story. They distracted him from why he had returned to the house he had grown up in, the house he had grown in.
He lost track of time, but it was completely dark outside now, and the candles in their holder needed replacing. He walked through the empty house. He was sure he was alone, but could've sworn to have heard the ghosts of friends, of family, talking through the pantry door and in the kitchen somewhere. He pulled his shirt over his head and felt a phantom gust of cool air tickle his neck where his collar once was. He stopped, taking a deep breath and with steady determination made his way to the base of the stairs at the end of the dining room. It was very dark towards the top, and the touch of the candles light had little to no reach where he was.
He flicked the light switch up and down repeatedly but to no avail. He gazed up the stairs, his own Everest ahead, knowing the lights wouldn't turn on. Still, he gathered his best composure and lifted his leg forward, resting it on the first step. He knew what must be done, and slowly added pressure and gained the certainty that it existed, that it was there, that his own indignation wasn't playing tricks on him. He pressed down and lifted his back foot to gain the next step. He grabbed the bannister, feeling the well sanded oak that he had put countless hours with his dad to renovated some ten years earlier. He took comfort in the memory and gripped tighter, sliding his hand further toward the top. His feet finding their own way now.
The creak of the stairs, click-it clack-it; the dusty sound of a hand sliding over the once well manicured bannister, wiff-waw wiff-waw; the rapping of the rain, ta-pucket ta-pucket. It all couldn't take his mind off of what he was approaching. His heart beat excruciating loud in his ears, thump-thump thump-thump. The door at the top of the stairs had eclipsed into view despite the darkness. The white door, standing intimidating was luminescent despite the lack of light. It called to him, sending shivers up his spine. He reached the top of the stairs and hesitated. It had been long enough since he had been through it, since he had even been up the stairs he thought. He knew nothing inside would've changed. He paused, remembering the police officer peeling the wool blanket off of his shoulders on the porch as he watched the flashing lights of the ambulance fade into the distance; the last time he had been through the door at his fore-front. He pushed his shoulders forward not willing to waiver for what must be done. The wind outside now audible against the shudders, ka-pack! ka-pack! The thunder rolling over the top of him, rum-rum-row, rum-rum-rum-row.
He reached for the door handle, the cold brass feeling like a thousand degrees in his hand. He turned the handle, feeling it's stiff resistance, feeling his own. The door flew open with the flash from lightning. He gazed upon what he hadn't seen in years. It was recognizable, even familiar and terrifying. He gasped for air that was not there. He back pedaled for ground that was not there. He gathered for his balance that was not there. His head searched for the stairs, for the bannister; it was there. He tumbled backwards down the dust covered stairs, over his own footprints. Thump-et, thump-it, thump. It was all over. His heart went to beat, but the beat was not there.
As I try to make my way to the ordinary world, I will learn to survive...
He stirred from his comfortable seat in the nook of the window and lit a few candles close, then returned to his perch, watching as the sun sank into the sea. The palm trees nearest to him swayed gently and without notice. He brought his legs up into his chest and felt closer to himself. He watched nothing, everything and let it tell it's own story. They distracted him from why he had returned to the house he had grown up in, the house he had grown in.
He lost track of time, but it was completely dark outside now, and the candles in their holder needed replacing. He walked through the empty house. He was sure he was alone, but could've sworn to have heard the ghosts of friends, of family, talking through the pantry door and in the kitchen somewhere. He pulled his shirt over his head and felt a phantom gust of cool air tickle his neck where his collar once was. He stopped, taking a deep breath and with steady determination made his way to the base of the stairs at the end of the dining room. It was very dark towards the top, and the touch of the candles light had little to no reach where he was.
He flicked the light switch up and down repeatedly but to no avail. He gazed up the stairs, his own Everest ahead, knowing the lights wouldn't turn on. Still, he gathered his best composure and lifted his leg forward, resting it on the first step. He knew what must be done, and slowly added pressure and gained the certainty that it existed, that it was there, that his own indignation wasn't playing tricks on him. He pressed down and lifted his back foot to gain the next step. He grabbed the bannister, feeling the well sanded oak that he had put countless hours with his dad to renovated some ten years earlier. He took comfort in the memory and gripped tighter, sliding his hand further toward the top. His feet finding their own way now.
The creak of the stairs, click-it clack-it; the dusty sound of a hand sliding over the once well manicured bannister, wiff-waw wiff-waw; the rapping of the rain, ta-pucket ta-pucket. It all couldn't take his mind off of what he was approaching. His heart beat excruciating loud in his ears, thump-thump thump-thump. The door at the top of the stairs had eclipsed into view despite the darkness. The white door, standing intimidating was luminescent despite the lack of light. It called to him, sending shivers up his spine. He reached the top of the stairs and hesitated. It had been long enough since he had been through it, since he had even been up the stairs he thought. He knew nothing inside would've changed. He paused, remembering the police officer peeling the wool blanket off of his shoulders on the porch as he watched the flashing lights of the ambulance fade into the distance; the last time he had been through the door at his fore-front. He pushed his shoulders forward not willing to waiver for what must be done. The wind outside now audible against the shudders, ka-pack! ka-pack! The thunder rolling over the top of him, rum-rum-row, rum-rum-rum-row.
He reached for the door handle, the cold brass feeling like a thousand degrees in his hand. He turned the handle, feeling it's stiff resistance, feeling his own. The door flew open with the flash from lightning. He gazed upon what he hadn't seen in years. It was recognizable, even familiar and terrifying. He gasped for air that was not there. He back pedaled for ground that was not there. He gathered for his balance that was not there. His head searched for the stairs, for the bannister; it was there. He tumbled backwards down the dust covered stairs, over his own footprints. Thump-et, thump-it, thump. It was all over. His heart went to beat, but the beat was not there.
As I try to make my way to the ordinary world, I will learn to survive...
The Path To Happiness Is Found Within Ourselves
It's amazing how immediately if you change the way you feel, if you force yourself to start feeling better, how unlimited that gateway will open to. I start to feel better, and things start to fall into place. I'm looking at getting a housing allowance shortly, and possibly not only a position promotion, but possibly a rank promotion, leading to quite a bit more money. The other side of that, is March hits I get $100 raise anyways. Not too mention that I get to travel to UNC Chapel Hill and speak with students about the "Army Experience." Life is turning good beneath my own control.
The other side of it has been accepting that I'm now full blown single. Not that I wasn't before, but I had a lot of reservations and even in the last week still had some feelings of regret and want of things in my past. Those emotions, those feelings are all but gone, or possibly just distracted by the amount of 'chatting' that I have been doing with new and different prospects in my life. This last weekend, after having a 'formal' blind date where I met the parents of a young lady from UNC Chapel Hill, I hit the rest of the weekend with a new and vibrant attitude that I haven't displayed in quite sometime. I'm a confident, good looking man who not only dresses nice, but I take pride in yielding class into a sometimes very unclassy society.
Just having that self-confidence, just going out to have fun and not look for anything but to enjoy myself has led to an aura or something of the sort that has led to unexplained amounts of women being attracted, and comfortable with talking to me right off of the bat. Mind you, I'm not a 'ladies man' and despise the way that society pits us into believing that we must go home with a woman the first night you meet them. That it's all the physical attraction and none of the mental. I am however very adept at conversing with people, with making people feel good about themselves, and carrying conversations from as simple and fun to deep and moving. I am fairly outgoing, and since I've been on the wagon lately, I even remember most of what I'm saying and where I'm going with it. The night ended with a couple of facebook friend requests pending by the next morning, and four sets of numbers entered into my phone.
I screen the facebook requests, and decide to delete a few of the numbers. I don't want to be an asshole, but at the same time don't want to lead anyone on. I actually don't even make the first contact for two of the girls I met this last weekend, and one even asks me out to coffee Monday night. I decline of course, and am amused to the fact that I don't make any effort, not the way that a boy normally would for a girl and yet everything is going my way regardless. I tease one by saying if you play your cards right, maybe I'll meet you out for a drink and it seems to work better than I could imagine. Has the world flipped upside down? I'm all about working hard for the things you want. This seems weird, and almost unfair. It's got me scratching my head. Things are falling into my lap, and I wonder if it's merely just the change of focus. It must be. I'm not that good. Or maybe, I am.
It's being positive, it's working hard for the things you want, and not letting the obstacles, that will constantly pop up, get in your way. Conquer everything you put your mind to. Work to better yourself and you will inherently better your relationships. Ask yourself quality questions so that you may receive quality answers. I can't explain how life could seem like such a breeze, so easy after only a week ago feeling like it might as well come to an end. The power has not been from an outside source. No special elixir or miracle drug, just a positive attitude, with a sense of never faltering, never quitting, never losing. Always working to be best, to come out on top, and learn from every obstacle, every time you face adversity.
Don't stop believin'
The other side of it has been accepting that I'm now full blown single. Not that I wasn't before, but I had a lot of reservations and even in the last week still had some feelings of regret and want of things in my past. Those emotions, those feelings are all but gone, or possibly just distracted by the amount of 'chatting' that I have been doing with new and different prospects in my life. This last weekend, after having a 'formal' blind date where I met the parents of a young lady from UNC Chapel Hill, I hit the rest of the weekend with a new and vibrant attitude that I haven't displayed in quite sometime. I'm a confident, good looking man who not only dresses nice, but I take pride in yielding class into a sometimes very unclassy society.
Just having that self-confidence, just going out to have fun and not look for anything but to enjoy myself has led to an aura or something of the sort that has led to unexplained amounts of women being attracted, and comfortable with talking to me right off of the bat. Mind you, I'm not a 'ladies man' and despise the way that society pits us into believing that we must go home with a woman the first night you meet them. That it's all the physical attraction and none of the mental. I am however very adept at conversing with people, with making people feel good about themselves, and carrying conversations from as simple and fun to deep and moving. I am fairly outgoing, and since I've been on the wagon lately, I even remember most of what I'm saying and where I'm going with it. The night ended with a couple of facebook friend requests pending by the next morning, and four sets of numbers entered into my phone.
I screen the facebook requests, and decide to delete a few of the numbers. I don't want to be an asshole, but at the same time don't want to lead anyone on. I actually don't even make the first contact for two of the girls I met this last weekend, and one even asks me out to coffee Monday night. I decline of course, and am amused to the fact that I don't make any effort, not the way that a boy normally would for a girl and yet everything is going my way regardless. I tease one by saying if you play your cards right, maybe I'll meet you out for a drink and it seems to work better than I could imagine. Has the world flipped upside down? I'm all about working hard for the things you want. This seems weird, and almost unfair. It's got me scratching my head. Things are falling into my lap, and I wonder if it's merely just the change of focus. It must be. I'm not that good. Or maybe, I am.
It's being positive, it's working hard for the things you want, and not letting the obstacles, that will constantly pop up, get in your way. Conquer everything you put your mind to. Work to better yourself and you will inherently better your relationships. Ask yourself quality questions so that you may receive quality answers. I can't explain how life could seem like such a breeze, so easy after only a week ago feeling like it might as well come to an end. The power has not been from an outside source. No special elixir or miracle drug, just a positive attitude, with a sense of never faltering, never quitting, never losing. Always working to be best, to come out on top, and learn from every obstacle, every time you face adversity.
Don't stop believin'
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Up and Up
Fear not my friends and family, I am in a much better mood, and place than I was only a recent week ago. There were seemingly insurmountable odds piled up, and I was allowing them to get the best of my emotions, causing me to question my beliefs and ultimately challenge my own personal identity. Yes, things seemed bad, but they could've been worse and I for one should've recognized that sooner.
The things that were, are still, happening in my life are ones that we as humans face on a day to day basis. Sure there were a bunch seemingly all hitting me at the same time, but none the less they are all stuff we have either had to deal with or had reference of others dealing with. The reintroduction to work is always a tough one, especially coming off of a hard hit leave with tons of drinking and no sleeping. Not the kind of leave that should be taken, but I'm a hard charger right? Then to be kind of blindsided by my ex-girlfriend didn't help to alleviate any of the stress or pain.
I got down, as I have before, and followed a cycle that I don't like to. I worked hard over the last week, to really concentrate and focus on all that was good in my life. Amazingly, just like the human mind can so powerfully do, that focus allowed me to delete the negative things that were happening in my life. I believe these things to always be happening. There is always disappointment and things always tend to turn out not exactly how you expect them too. When you focus on them to turn out perfect and they don't, you can't help but be disappointed. In contrast, if you look at how you can improve whatever comes in your direction, you will almost certainly always focus on what can improve, or how you can improve your situation. It's all just a change of the questions that you ask yourself. Changing your question will inherently change the answer.
You have to ask questions that help to empower you to overcome, and not dis empower you and bring you spiraling down. This is tough, because we are trained as a society to ask these questions that limit us, that bring us down, because for one we like the attention that we get when we are down. You hardly ever get asked why you're so happy, unless it's a ridiculous amount of excitement, but you will almost always hear, "why are you so sad?" Pity my friends, is a power drug.
It's making an ultimatum with myself. Finding what I value, who I am, and what I will live for, and not stand for. It's tough, because I feel like my lack of experience in life leaves some of those not quite one hundred percents, but the things that I can recognize as such I must attack, conquer and vanquish forever. Like being upset about things that I cannot control, and taking control of things that I can. I'm in a better place, a better mood, and I'm working on never falling into the self-deflating, self-pity thought that has plagued me in the past.
Dare if you dare...
The things that were, are still, happening in my life are ones that we as humans face on a day to day basis. Sure there were a bunch seemingly all hitting me at the same time, but none the less they are all stuff we have either had to deal with or had reference of others dealing with. The reintroduction to work is always a tough one, especially coming off of a hard hit leave with tons of drinking and no sleeping. Not the kind of leave that should be taken, but I'm a hard charger right? Then to be kind of blindsided by my ex-girlfriend didn't help to alleviate any of the stress or pain.
I got down, as I have before, and followed a cycle that I don't like to. I worked hard over the last week, to really concentrate and focus on all that was good in my life. Amazingly, just like the human mind can so powerfully do, that focus allowed me to delete the negative things that were happening in my life. I believe these things to always be happening. There is always disappointment and things always tend to turn out not exactly how you expect them too. When you focus on them to turn out perfect and they don't, you can't help but be disappointed. In contrast, if you look at how you can improve whatever comes in your direction, you will almost certainly always focus on what can improve, or how you can improve your situation. It's all just a change of the questions that you ask yourself. Changing your question will inherently change the answer.
You have to ask questions that help to empower you to overcome, and not dis empower you and bring you spiraling down. This is tough, because we are trained as a society to ask these questions that limit us, that bring us down, because for one we like the attention that we get when we are down. You hardly ever get asked why you're so happy, unless it's a ridiculous amount of excitement, but you will almost always hear, "why are you so sad?" Pity my friends, is a power drug.
It's making an ultimatum with myself. Finding what I value, who I am, and what I will live for, and not stand for. It's tough, because I feel like my lack of experience in life leaves some of those not quite one hundred percents, but the things that I can recognize as such I must attack, conquer and vanquish forever. Like being upset about things that I cannot control, and taking control of things that I can. I'm in a better place, a better mood, and I'm working on never falling into the self-deflating, self-pity thought that has plagued me in the past.
Dare if you dare...
Monday, January 24, 2011
Army Times
All too often I'm sickened by the state of the military. Talking to a friend on the inside, who has first hand scoop of the bullshit that we deal with on a day to day basis, helped to fill me in on the real backside, the real story of the illustrious Fort Bragg.
Almost every time you see something so great, a band so popular, a couple so happy, there is indefinite misery and despair behind closed doors. The paint is cracking, the ship sinking, but the smile is still bright, the flag is seemingly flying high.
I've had some 'problems' from the various experiences I have encountered throughout the military. Most of these things that I've had to deal with I never would've encountered in what we consider a normal life. They come from being blown up, hitting your head while training for Airborne Operations, and losing friends eternally. If that's not enough, the day to day grind of a deployment, the stress in and out everyday and even worse, the stress of garrison life. Long hours, little pay, constantly buying things that the military is supposed to issue. All of this compounds with the worst of all, an organization who acts as if they care for their employees, who give up their whole lives for a singular cause, but in fact could care less.
Fort Bragg, the 82nd Airborne is one of the worst at this. The attitude is juvenile, childish, and simply sickening. Fort Bragg has tons of problems, and this is no longer from the questionable town that surrounds it, but coming from the soldiers themselves. The military does what they have always done, and that's react for a quick fix, something to alieve the pain, relieve the pressure surmounting, as they cover their tracks with a sense of urgency. The attempt does nothing but hurt everyone in it's path.
Fort Bragg has a serious addiction problem. There are more narcotics prescribed here than any other Army post. This is simply because whenever someone seeks help, when they have problems, it's too easy for the doctors to simply write this quick fix, which without therapy, is merely a way of getting people addicted to these powerful drugs. You need the therapy, along with the drugs (if at all), in order to make people better.
And yes, the Army has done tons, and pays for plenty so that you have the resources available to seek help. You can even do this without having to go through the Army, so that it is entirely confidential. However, the moment you need an afternoon off of work, the moment you need to work on getting better and it interferes with work (mind you this a 24 hour job, 7 days a week, 365 days a year), then there is so much pressure, so much flak that it makes your life worse if you do push against the strain. The more you try and get help, the more you use the proper channels to do so, the more you get talked down to, called a shit bag, are given an invariable amount of stress that makes you want to rip your hair out. It's tough to explain, because unlike a civilians job, when you are treated unfairly, unjustly, you can quit or tell the person to fuck off. Here, there's no quitting, to tell someone to fuck off when they are treating you like shit is to pretty much sign your own death warrant, depending on their rank.
That's why most guys don't seek help. Because not only do you work up hill against a constant strain and downpour, but you also have the infant ideal that men are strong, and you're a pussy if you do that. And I went through some of the same shit and I'm not cookoo. It's these stupid chauvinistic ideals that lead to more alcoholism, more domestic abuse, more drug addiction, and with all that: more suicides more murders, more deaths. It's all preventable, and the Army spends tons of time trying to check the block, so that it may wipe it's hands clean of it. They'd rather these people, who have done their time, and served their country, get out of the military unfixed, releasing them back into a society where they are not only dangerous to themselves, but dangerous to others. They would rather say fuck you for all of your hard work, because we will just replace you with someone off of the street. You're just a number to them, and unfortunately they're going to realize, when all of this blows up, when all of this comes out, they are going to hurt. The quick pleasure of cover up will be an immense amount of deep, lasting pain.
Almost every time you see something so great, a band so popular, a couple so happy, there is indefinite misery and despair behind closed doors. The paint is cracking, the ship sinking, but the smile is still bright, the flag is seemingly flying high.
I've had some 'problems' from the various experiences I have encountered throughout the military. Most of these things that I've had to deal with I never would've encountered in what we consider a normal life. They come from being blown up, hitting your head while training for Airborne Operations, and losing friends eternally. If that's not enough, the day to day grind of a deployment, the stress in and out everyday and even worse, the stress of garrison life. Long hours, little pay, constantly buying things that the military is supposed to issue. All of this compounds with the worst of all, an organization who acts as if they care for their employees, who give up their whole lives for a singular cause, but in fact could care less.
Fort Bragg, the 82nd Airborne is one of the worst at this. The attitude is juvenile, childish, and simply sickening. Fort Bragg has tons of problems, and this is no longer from the questionable town that surrounds it, but coming from the soldiers themselves. The military does what they have always done, and that's react for a quick fix, something to alieve the pain, relieve the pressure surmounting, as they cover their tracks with a sense of urgency. The attempt does nothing but hurt everyone in it's path.
Fort Bragg has a serious addiction problem. There are more narcotics prescribed here than any other Army post. This is simply because whenever someone seeks help, when they have problems, it's too easy for the doctors to simply write this quick fix, which without therapy, is merely a way of getting people addicted to these powerful drugs. You need the therapy, along with the drugs (if at all), in order to make people better.
And yes, the Army has done tons, and pays for plenty so that you have the resources available to seek help. You can even do this without having to go through the Army, so that it is entirely confidential. However, the moment you need an afternoon off of work, the moment you need to work on getting better and it interferes with work (mind you this a 24 hour job, 7 days a week, 365 days a year), then there is so much pressure, so much flak that it makes your life worse if you do push against the strain. The more you try and get help, the more you use the proper channels to do so, the more you get talked down to, called a shit bag, are given an invariable amount of stress that makes you want to rip your hair out. It's tough to explain, because unlike a civilians job, when you are treated unfairly, unjustly, you can quit or tell the person to fuck off. Here, there's no quitting, to tell someone to fuck off when they are treating you like shit is to pretty much sign your own death warrant, depending on their rank.
That's why most guys don't seek help. Because not only do you work up hill against a constant strain and downpour, but you also have the infant ideal that men are strong, and you're a pussy if you do that. And I went through some of the same shit and I'm not cookoo. It's these stupid chauvinistic ideals that lead to more alcoholism, more domestic abuse, more drug addiction, and with all that: more suicides more murders, more deaths. It's all preventable, and the Army spends tons of time trying to check the block, so that it may wipe it's hands clean of it. They'd rather these people, who have done their time, and served their country, get out of the military unfixed, releasing them back into a society where they are not only dangerous to themselves, but dangerous to others. They would rather say fuck you for all of your hard work, because we will just replace you with someone off of the street. You're just a number to them, and unfortunately they're going to realize, when all of this blows up, when all of this comes out, they are going to hurt. The quick pleasure of cover up will be an immense amount of deep, lasting pain.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
One More Time
When we get down, when the odds seem insurmountable, when problems pile up, it's merely just life's way of telling us what we must do; reevaluate ourselves, our beliefs, our values and figure out what sacrifices we must make, what things we must no longer do, and the things that we need to continue to do.
Recently I found myself in a place where there was nothing but question marks in nearly every direction I looked. This is partly because 6 months ago when I was in the same place I failed to realize what I must do. We can't sit around and wait for things to happen, react to them. If we sit there with the unknown out there and simply react when the unknown happens, we will live in a perpetual state of fear of that unknown. What we must do is change those question marks into goals. They must be realistic, they must be challenging, they must be what we commit ourselves to. If we work towards our goals that we now set, that we now see instead of question mark, we can only fear one thing; fear itself. The idea is sometimes all to inescapable. How, when we fail, when we do not succeed, do we pick ourselves back up and continue to push on to achieve what we want? It's a tough question to answer, and an even tougher question to do something about.
The majority of the people in this world will work towards a goal. They will be thrown adversity and instead of pushing through it, they simply do what is easiest, and choose an easier goal to accomplish. We do this plenty as human beings, we constantly try and make decisions that give us instantaneous pleasure, rather than make a decision that might hurt in the short term, but be best in the long term. I'm guilty of this as often as you perhaps, but the realization, the self-realization has led me to belief that I am stronger than all of that. That I can obtain the goals that I set for myself and with plenty of determination to do it. All it takes is an idea. The idea that nothing will hold me back, nothing will stand in my way. I've done this, proved myself of this feat on so many levels, it's hard to believe that I still fall into the societal way of thinking. That I care what others think, that I care that I failed once or twice.
To truly go after your goals, you must figure out what it is that you want. Where some of how I'm going to get there is still up in the air, I vow to live my life by some simple principles, some simple truths that I will not, under any circumstances, break for.
*Love & support my family at all costs.
*Be positive and find a way to succeed
*Take popular opinion with a grain of salt, but follow my heart
*Live life to it's fullest. Take advantage of every situation no matter how bad it might seem
*There is always room for self growth
*Help others with all your heart, as in the end it's all for your heart
*Work to improve friendships and relationships
*Have wealth. Wealth in love, in life, and in the people who are in my life
*Share my life with others, and be happy to share others lives with me
If I constantly work at achieving, and improving these areas I will live a life of greatness.
So crazy, beat the strain
Recently I found myself in a place where there was nothing but question marks in nearly every direction I looked. This is partly because 6 months ago when I was in the same place I failed to realize what I must do. We can't sit around and wait for things to happen, react to them. If we sit there with the unknown out there and simply react when the unknown happens, we will live in a perpetual state of fear of that unknown. What we must do is change those question marks into goals. They must be realistic, they must be challenging, they must be what we commit ourselves to. If we work towards our goals that we now set, that we now see instead of question mark, we can only fear one thing; fear itself. The idea is sometimes all to inescapable. How, when we fail, when we do not succeed, do we pick ourselves back up and continue to push on to achieve what we want? It's a tough question to answer, and an even tougher question to do something about.
The majority of the people in this world will work towards a goal. They will be thrown adversity and instead of pushing through it, they simply do what is easiest, and choose an easier goal to accomplish. We do this plenty as human beings, we constantly try and make decisions that give us instantaneous pleasure, rather than make a decision that might hurt in the short term, but be best in the long term. I'm guilty of this as often as you perhaps, but the realization, the self-realization has led me to belief that I am stronger than all of that. That I can obtain the goals that I set for myself and with plenty of determination to do it. All it takes is an idea. The idea that nothing will hold me back, nothing will stand in my way. I've done this, proved myself of this feat on so many levels, it's hard to believe that I still fall into the societal way of thinking. That I care what others think, that I care that I failed once or twice.
To truly go after your goals, you must figure out what it is that you want. Where some of how I'm going to get there is still up in the air, I vow to live my life by some simple principles, some simple truths that I will not, under any circumstances, break for.
*Love & support my family at all costs.
*Be positive and find a way to succeed
*Take popular opinion with a grain of salt, but follow my heart
*Live life to it's fullest. Take advantage of every situation no matter how bad it might seem
*There is always room for self growth
*Help others with all your heart, as in the end it's all for your heart
*Work to improve friendships and relationships
*Have wealth. Wealth in love, in life, and in the people who are in my life
*Share my life with others, and be happy to share others lives with me
If I constantly work at achieving, and improving these areas I will live a life of greatness.
So crazy, beat the strain
Thursday, January 20, 2011
I May Be Bad, But I'm Perfectly Good At It
I've been on the road for self-improvement, and self discovery. I've been putting off a large amount in my life, finding an easy excuse for why or how or because. I do a lot for myself already, more than I realized I do, and quite a bit for others as well. There is a lot that I do though that is detrimental to myself.
The first decision I've made is to quit drinking. Maybe not forever, but until I'm out of the military. My job has a great amount of stress that is hard for anyone to deal with day in and day out. I joined the service to deploy and take the fight to the enemy. I didn't join to march around and sing cadence about the gerry's and japs. Sure that's not something that a lot of people expect to hear someone say, but it's very true of our generation. We entered the military during a time of war, to vanquish the enemies of the United States in order to hope that our kids, and their kids never have to feel the fingers of terrorism, the fist of fear, the sting of being attacked.
The drinking had been out of control for awhile, but then in control, and then at the point of absurdity. I don't fiend for it. I don't crave for it coming home, don't stop and buy a six pack or twelve, pack, but would kick back a few, not to a point of drunkenness, every night. Then the weekend would hit, and I'd try and race to the bottom of a 24 pack, and usually always win. It got to the point when I was on leave that I never woke up with a hangover after nearly 10 days of straight drinking.
The lingering depression effect that alcohol has on your brain is a force to reckoned with. Anyone who has ever been terribly depressed, or terribly stressed will tell you that it's enough trouble on it's own, let alone with the help of outside influences.
Another thing I have put on the back burner is my education. I bought an SAT prep book and plan on taking it at the beginning of this summer at the latest. I haven't written anything in the correct style in so long that I'm sure I will have to do a lot of introspective writing. And math... let's not even go there. It's been 7 years since I've done an equation higher than second grade level.
It's these small decisions, effort towards self improvement that we must do on a day to day basis in order to not get complacent with our lives, with who we are. Constant improvement is pertinent to being the best that we can be, and strive to be better.
I wish I could buy me a spaceship and fly... past the sky
The first decision I've made is to quit drinking. Maybe not forever, but until I'm out of the military. My job has a great amount of stress that is hard for anyone to deal with day in and day out. I joined the service to deploy and take the fight to the enemy. I didn't join to march around and sing cadence about the gerry's and japs. Sure that's not something that a lot of people expect to hear someone say, but it's very true of our generation. We entered the military during a time of war, to vanquish the enemies of the United States in order to hope that our kids, and their kids never have to feel the fingers of terrorism, the fist of fear, the sting of being attacked.
The drinking had been out of control for awhile, but then in control, and then at the point of absurdity. I don't fiend for it. I don't crave for it coming home, don't stop and buy a six pack or twelve, pack, but would kick back a few, not to a point of drunkenness, every night. Then the weekend would hit, and I'd try and race to the bottom of a 24 pack, and usually always win. It got to the point when I was on leave that I never woke up with a hangover after nearly 10 days of straight drinking.
The lingering depression effect that alcohol has on your brain is a force to reckoned with. Anyone who has ever been terribly depressed, or terribly stressed will tell you that it's enough trouble on it's own, let alone with the help of outside influences.
Another thing I have put on the back burner is my education. I bought an SAT prep book and plan on taking it at the beginning of this summer at the latest. I haven't written anything in the correct style in so long that I'm sure I will have to do a lot of introspective writing. And math... let's not even go there. It's been 7 years since I've done an equation higher than second grade level.
It's these small decisions, effort towards self improvement that we must do on a day to day basis in order to not get complacent with our lives, with who we are. Constant improvement is pertinent to being the best that we can be, and strive to be better.
I wish I could buy me a spaceship and fly... past the sky
I Love The Feeling You Bring To Me
The start of 2011 has been a very up and down thing already. I had the great excitement of being home for New Years, and the 10 days to follow. Then it was back to work, but not before a somewhat of a u-turn in a close relationship. Well more like a left or right.
I struggled at first, feeling lost and abstract from everything. My heart yearning, pleading, crying for what it truly wanted. With all the stresses of life mounting and me not confronting them, when I finally did the ghosts were hideous and haunting. I began a downward spiral, not understanding why things were happening the way they were. I couldn't help but gravitate toward the negative, with beliefs dis empowering myself to an almost new low.
I picked up a book, that I had skimmed through a few times before, and found the rock that I was looking for, that I've always relied on; myself. Yes, we often times look to others to help us out of situations, but I have always been motivated by you telling me that I can't. Or your belief that I can't achieve. I've always been motivated by my own self to improve, to getter better, to persist until I had conquered what I had set out to do. The book is one introduced to me by my cousin Melinda, called Awaken the Giant Within and it's by the well known Anthony Robbins. It is considered a self-help book, but through the mere 100 pages that I have read in the last three days, it's so much more. It's understanding how we as humans think, how what we do has the effect that it does. The emotions, the beliefs, and the reasons behind them.
Other than learning how to diagnose, understand why we have thoughts that control us, or limit us, or allow us to have great success, this book also teaches you how to empower yourself, how to change the things that you believe. How to make the intellectual, the rational side of you overcome the more powerful emotional, the side we all act upon.
So far I've learned about decisions making. I'm a very astute decision maker, as my job is full of them. I've become very good at making quick and accurate decisions, even if some of the times they end up being wrong, it doesn't hurt my confidence at all because of my level of success. These are decisions though, that really have no effect over my personal being, over myself, but more or less a decision for success of the team, of the unit to succeed. That being said, when it comes to decisions based for me, I'm a little out of practice.
We make decisions based on two basic truths of life, that we either do these things for pleasure, or pain. To avoid pain, we hope. This means that the things we do are for pleasure or because the idea of pain, possible pain, is so great that we choose to avoid it. These ideas, are just merely that, ideas. They can be jaded by our own mind, and our own perception of them. Just as a smoker thinks that a cigarette is a pleasure, because perhaps in the here and now, in the instant gratification it is, but in the long term it's pain. Why I don't smoke: because I associate a great deal of pain by watching my Grandpa suffer from the years he smoked, and watching my Uncle prematurely pass this last summer as a result of his early years of life smoking. There is so much pain associated with it, that I get upset when people light a cigarette near me. This belief of mine has been created due to my own experiences with it. It has reference from other things to, but those other things wouldn't have been painful enough for me to decide never to smoke.
We make decisions based on our beliefs which are influenced by pain and pleasure. That of our own, and that of others who we have gained reference from. It could even come from an idea, something that doesn't or hasn't ever happened before, but we believe it to be true. Like envisioning something over and over until it feels so real that you can't tell the difference between the facade and the reality. The crazy thing is our mind can't tell either, like a vivid dream. The three level of beliefs are opinion, belief and conviction. For me an opinion would be that the Packers will beat the Bears this weekend. I think they match up better than the bears, but am open to others and may sway that opinion back and forth. There isn't enough reference, enough experience for me to believe that the Packers will win, just a lightly frosted idea. A belief is that the majority of people in this world are good. This is slightly higher level than an opinion, because in my life experience I have come to find that people are good, and that they mean well for themselves and others. The reference, the experience is enough there that I would not easily be swayed from my point. The conviction is the one that we associate the greatest amount of feeling towards. This is the one we are most passionate about. I will never smoke because of the horrible amount of loss and grief it has brought to my family. That is conviction. I know that I will never waiver from that belief.
It's our experiences with both good and bad, pain and pleasure that influence what we believe. What we believe is what we base our decisions on, which is why usually over a gradual amount of time, a gradual amount of experience we change out minds about things, change our decisions about things. Or we do them instantaneous because either the pain is so great or the pleasure is so great.
For example, boy breaks up with girl. Girl had higher amount of pleasure in relationship with boy, even though there were some painful experiences. Girl had believed she loved boy with all her heart. With her heart now hurt, girl still feels love, but unsure how to get past pain. Boy tries to get girl back. Girl wants to accept boy because of the pleasure she felt that had made up her belief about boy. Girl tries, but can't get past the fact that her beliefs have changed, her ideas have been stricken with pain, and so girl has new belief that if she opens her heart again, pain will surely ensue. Girl dumps boy.
We normally don't control how we feel ourselves. We allow outside influences to change our emotions, even if we have no control over them. But we have total control. It's all in perspective and just associating pleasure or a great deal of pain with things in order to take control of our beliefs and decisions. We all to often take the instant gratification pleasure which comes with long term pain, over the short term pain with long term pleasure. Like when you work out, and you feel tired, out of breath and sore. But it's only temporary and when you're done you feel better than before.
This book has helped me to realize what I believe, what I have convictions for. What I won't stand for, what I won't make excuses for. That I can change the way I feel about things, that I don't have to let my emotions work against me, I can make them work for me. Don't get me wrong, there is still tons of adversity, plenty of tough emotions to turn around, but I've always been up for a challenge. If you want something don't let yourself, your limiting thoughts get in the way of achieving it.
I believe that all will be okay in the end, and if it's not okay, well then it's not the end.
I struggled at first, feeling lost and abstract from everything. My heart yearning, pleading, crying for what it truly wanted. With all the stresses of life mounting and me not confronting them, when I finally did the ghosts were hideous and haunting. I began a downward spiral, not understanding why things were happening the way they were. I couldn't help but gravitate toward the negative, with beliefs dis empowering myself to an almost new low.
I picked up a book, that I had skimmed through a few times before, and found the rock that I was looking for, that I've always relied on; myself. Yes, we often times look to others to help us out of situations, but I have always been motivated by you telling me that I can't. Or your belief that I can't achieve. I've always been motivated by my own self to improve, to getter better, to persist until I had conquered what I had set out to do. The book is one introduced to me by my cousin Melinda, called Awaken the Giant Within and it's by the well known Anthony Robbins. It is considered a self-help book, but through the mere 100 pages that I have read in the last three days, it's so much more. It's understanding how we as humans think, how what we do has the effect that it does. The emotions, the beliefs, and the reasons behind them.
Other than learning how to diagnose, understand why we have thoughts that control us, or limit us, or allow us to have great success, this book also teaches you how to empower yourself, how to change the things that you believe. How to make the intellectual, the rational side of you overcome the more powerful emotional, the side we all act upon.
So far I've learned about decisions making. I'm a very astute decision maker, as my job is full of them. I've become very good at making quick and accurate decisions, even if some of the times they end up being wrong, it doesn't hurt my confidence at all because of my level of success. These are decisions though, that really have no effect over my personal being, over myself, but more or less a decision for success of the team, of the unit to succeed. That being said, when it comes to decisions based for me, I'm a little out of practice.
We make decisions based on two basic truths of life, that we either do these things for pleasure, or pain. To avoid pain, we hope. This means that the things we do are for pleasure or because the idea of pain, possible pain, is so great that we choose to avoid it. These ideas, are just merely that, ideas. They can be jaded by our own mind, and our own perception of them. Just as a smoker thinks that a cigarette is a pleasure, because perhaps in the here and now, in the instant gratification it is, but in the long term it's pain. Why I don't smoke: because I associate a great deal of pain by watching my Grandpa suffer from the years he smoked, and watching my Uncle prematurely pass this last summer as a result of his early years of life smoking. There is so much pain associated with it, that I get upset when people light a cigarette near me. This belief of mine has been created due to my own experiences with it. It has reference from other things to, but those other things wouldn't have been painful enough for me to decide never to smoke.
We make decisions based on our beliefs which are influenced by pain and pleasure. That of our own, and that of others who we have gained reference from. It could even come from an idea, something that doesn't or hasn't ever happened before, but we believe it to be true. Like envisioning something over and over until it feels so real that you can't tell the difference between the facade and the reality. The crazy thing is our mind can't tell either, like a vivid dream. The three level of beliefs are opinion, belief and conviction. For me an opinion would be that the Packers will beat the Bears this weekend. I think they match up better than the bears, but am open to others and may sway that opinion back and forth. There isn't enough reference, enough experience for me to believe that the Packers will win, just a lightly frosted idea. A belief is that the majority of people in this world are good. This is slightly higher level than an opinion, because in my life experience I have come to find that people are good, and that they mean well for themselves and others. The reference, the experience is enough there that I would not easily be swayed from my point. The conviction is the one that we associate the greatest amount of feeling towards. This is the one we are most passionate about. I will never smoke because of the horrible amount of loss and grief it has brought to my family. That is conviction. I know that I will never waiver from that belief.
It's our experiences with both good and bad, pain and pleasure that influence what we believe. What we believe is what we base our decisions on, which is why usually over a gradual amount of time, a gradual amount of experience we change out minds about things, change our decisions about things. Or we do them instantaneous because either the pain is so great or the pleasure is so great.
For example, boy breaks up with girl. Girl had higher amount of pleasure in relationship with boy, even though there were some painful experiences. Girl had believed she loved boy with all her heart. With her heart now hurt, girl still feels love, but unsure how to get past pain. Boy tries to get girl back. Girl wants to accept boy because of the pleasure she felt that had made up her belief about boy. Girl tries, but can't get past the fact that her beliefs have changed, her ideas have been stricken with pain, and so girl has new belief that if she opens her heart again, pain will surely ensue. Girl dumps boy.
We normally don't control how we feel ourselves. We allow outside influences to change our emotions, even if we have no control over them. But we have total control. It's all in perspective and just associating pleasure or a great deal of pain with things in order to take control of our beliefs and decisions. We all to often take the instant gratification pleasure which comes with long term pain, over the short term pain with long term pleasure. Like when you work out, and you feel tired, out of breath and sore. But it's only temporary and when you're done you feel better than before.
This book has helped me to realize what I believe, what I have convictions for. What I won't stand for, what I won't make excuses for. That I can change the way I feel about things, that I don't have to let my emotions work against me, I can make them work for me. Don't get me wrong, there is still tons of adversity, plenty of tough emotions to turn around, but I've always been up for a challenge. If you want something don't let yourself, your limiting thoughts get in the way of achieving it.
I believe that all will be okay in the end, and if it's not okay, well then it's not the end.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Nex
As our society loses faith in each other, in humanity we continue our downward spiral. We lose compassion for one another. We lose love. We start becoming less and less likely to do the right thing. We focus on ourselves and leave all others in our wake. I've combated this for the longest time, thinking that if you do good for others, if you put yourself out there, if you try hard and put faith in everyone around you, that they will not disappoint you, that you will reap what you sew. That isn't always true. There are people out there who will take all the good you give them, use, abuse, and then throw you away.
We value things based on our perceptions of them. The two main things that drive whether or not we like or hate something has to do with if we think of pain, or pleasure for them. Just as a person who had a relative die from lung cancer, from smoking would associate cigarettes with that pain. I used to associate putting myself out there for people with a great deal of pleasure. I have been burned only a few times, and it was because even though I had assessed that this person or that wasn't the best of character that perhaps I could pass on a good thing. The pain of those few small burns never over took the pleasure of giving, but now it might have.
The reasons those burns never hurt, was because of the character in which I had seen or assumed was somewhat poor. I've never been burned, not in the long run, by people who I have observed as good, people that care, people who are smart. Now it's pain that I associate with putting my heart out on my sleeves. I've always said, 'what's the point of a heart, if it's not on your sleeves,' but I guess that point would mean it's unbroken, untarnished, safe.
Maybe I need to re-evaluate, not put as much faith into people as I think they deserve. Maybe it's all my fault that I didn't read the situation right, that I left myself so wide open to be nothing but hurt. Rejection has always been a part of my life, and though I've failed at many things, it's never stopped me from getting right back up, to trying a different approach to be successful, to overcome the odds and better myself. But as my best friend Eric would tell me, 'You're nothing like anybody else. You're better than everyone else.' That makes me feel good, but still deeply hurt.
I never knew what I was getting into, falling in love. I never knew there could be such joy, and I never knew that there could be such sorrow. It's been difficult, to say the least, to deal with my emotions after returning from combat. Sometimes I wish I had died there instead of Bauer. He was happy, had a wife, and a life. I think about how my family would feel, how you would feel. This world isn't fair. It's ugly and mean, and just when you think it will show you it's best, it disappoints you. No matter how you try and deal with these things yourself, or with help, it's been such a level of stress constantly experienced that most people it would take a lifetime to understand. They've actually done studies where the amount of stress felt over one deployment is comparable to the stress that most will feel in a lifetime.
So, I'm within that 1% of people who do this for a living, and even in a smaller percentage because I'm in the Infantry, the most blue collared job in the world. Eric was right, I am different. But, perhaps as strong as I am, as much faith as I put into others, and as much as I deal with my emotions and my thoughts on a daily basis, I can't help but think, that at this point: I have no one physically close to lean on. There's no one to wake up to, who not only I care for, but cares for me. Telephone and internet chats only go so far. I need you. I need you now. I need you to not be selfish. I need you to reciprocate. I need this, my mental life, my ideals, they all swing in the balance, and I don't want to lose them, don't want to lose you.
How can I just let you leave without a trace?
We value things based on our perceptions of them. The two main things that drive whether or not we like or hate something has to do with if we think of pain, or pleasure for them. Just as a person who had a relative die from lung cancer, from smoking would associate cigarettes with that pain. I used to associate putting myself out there for people with a great deal of pleasure. I have been burned only a few times, and it was because even though I had assessed that this person or that wasn't the best of character that perhaps I could pass on a good thing. The pain of those few small burns never over took the pleasure of giving, but now it might have.
The reasons those burns never hurt, was because of the character in which I had seen or assumed was somewhat poor. I've never been burned, not in the long run, by people who I have observed as good, people that care, people who are smart. Now it's pain that I associate with putting my heart out on my sleeves. I've always said, 'what's the point of a heart, if it's not on your sleeves,' but I guess that point would mean it's unbroken, untarnished, safe.
Maybe I need to re-evaluate, not put as much faith into people as I think they deserve. Maybe it's all my fault that I didn't read the situation right, that I left myself so wide open to be nothing but hurt. Rejection has always been a part of my life, and though I've failed at many things, it's never stopped me from getting right back up, to trying a different approach to be successful, to overcome the odds and better myself. But as my best friend Eric would tell me, 'You're nothing like anybody else. You're better than everyone else.' That makes me feel good, but still deeply hurt.
I never knew what I was getting into, falling in love. I never knew there could be such joy, and I never knew that there could be such sorrow. It's been difficult, to say the least, to deal with my emotions after returning from combat. Sometimes I wish I had died there instead of Bauer. He was happy, had a wife, and a life. I think about how my family would feel, how you would feel. This world isn't fair. It's ugly and mean, and just when you think it will show you it's best, it disappoints you. No matter how you try and deal with these things yourself, or with help, it's been such a level of stress constantly experienced that most people it would take a lifetime to understand. They've actually done studies where the amount of stress felt over one deployment is comparable to the stress that most will feel in a lifetime.
So, I'm within that 1% of people who do this for a living, and even in a smaller percentage because I'm in the Infantry, the most blue collared job in the world. Eric was right, I am different. But, perhaps as strong as I am, as much faith as I put into others, and as much as I deal with my emotions and my thoughts on a daily basis, I can't help but think, that at this point: I have no one physically close to lean on. There's no one to wake up to, who not only I care for, but cares for me. Telephone and internet chats only go so far. I need you. I need you now. I need you to not be selfish. I need you to reciprocate. I need this, my mental life, my ideals, they all swing in the balance, and I don't want to lose them, don't want to lose you.
How can I just let you leave without a trace?
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Anger Rising
The only direction we flow is down. It's easy to tell others not beat up yourself over mistakes, something that as human beings we will infinitely make throughout the course of our existence, and have. I can't help but to feel sick with some of the decisions I've made in my life. We must grow from mistakes, and I have in nearly every aspect of my life made a significant rebound and fixed the problems, the mistakes that I have made. One in particular I can not seem to grasp, to overcome, to feel any less than nauseous when I think about it.
I struggle, being a positive person who looks for the general best of the group or person to my left or right, when I try and deal with this. Broken heart upon my own accord. I know how Leo felt in Inception when he was the cause of his wife's suicide. I feel the same. That I am to blame for the one the things I love to constantly push me away. I say too many of the things that are true. I'm too real, and sometimes have to much realization about situations that I am. I try to be a nice guy, and it most always backfires in one way or another.
I put a lot of faith into people and humanity, but it's a sad betrayal to myself, something that probably only the French have a word for. It's self-degradation to put faith, to put trust into people, because in the end they will always and surely let you down. You expand yourself for others, and they'll be thankful, but only long enough to turn around, use, abuse, and spit in your face. It shouldn't be the way it is. It tears me apart and leaves me feeling sick with stupidity for ever putting myself out there for anyone. I just want to turn into a cocoon and have you, and everyone else leave me alone.
It's true, we can't always get what we want. But in my lifetime, anything I've truly desired to have in my life, I have worked hard and figured out a way to achieve, to buy, to possess what it is I desire. I've been fortunate enough to never have to cross anyone to do it either. But this scenario, it seems impossible. It's not my emotions, not my feelings that I must change, that I must go after, it's the feelings of another. How do you convince someone that you are the best thing for them? You can't, no matter how hard you try, no matter how well you articulate yourself, how well you prove or show that you would do anything for them. You're not Bruno Mars, you're more, and it's just not enough.
I keep waiting for this to be a nightmare, for it to end. It's to harsh, to vivid, to terrifying a feeling that lets me know it's not one, that I'm not asleep. Additionally, it could never be one since I can't sleep. The insomnia has returned, much as it was in Iraq. For the same reason, the self-realization comes into play. There's no sleep because I question everything that I ever believed to be true, and mostly the same question comes to play. My trust and faith in people whom I've given my heart to, my love to, my everything to. It's unfair, in a very unfair world, and my accepting of it has become something of a unfair challenge. I question how I will grow, or digress from this situation. Not every event in life you come out a better person, you can only hope to. Some events you learn nothing from, only to question if you've been living your life in the light of what you thought was right. The shades of gray you see now turn black and white and then back to gray before you can distinguish what turned which way.
I try and surround myself with good people, but as I've learned, those are a dying breed. There is not many people in this world that would stop whatever it is they are doing to save you in a dire time of need. People who see obstacles and stop, turn around, and cry about it is what we've been headed towards. It's sickening. We have an excuse for everything and every problem. There is no moxie, there is no perseverance, there is no hard work left in this world. Not from Americans at least, and our country, we have become infected with it. Helping the minority even if it hurts the majority. Making excuses for everything, and not pushing through the hardest things to get what we want. We give up. We surrender. We are cowards. We face a little adversity as Americans, as people in this world and we find an excuse to quit, a scapegoat to make ourselves feel less guilty about being selfish. That's all we are, a bunch of pre-madonna-don't-want-to-work-hard-and-find-an-excuse-to-be-assholes-to-each-other-and-never-take-responsibility-for-the-way-we-let-others-down, just so we can have it our way.
When I leave, there be no goodbye. It will be shockingly abrupt.
I struggle, being a positive person who looks for the general best of the group or person to my left or right, when I try and deal with this. Broken heart upon my own accord. I know how Leo felt in Inception when he was the cause of his wife's suicide. I feel the same. That I am to blame for the one the things I love to constantly push me away. I say too many of the things that are true. I'm too real, and sometimes have to much realization about situations that I am. I try to be a nice guy, and it most always backfires in one way or another.
I put a lot of faith into people and humanity, but it's a sad betrayal to myself, something that probably only the French have a word for. It's self-degradation to put faith, to put trust into people, because in the end they will always and surely let you down. You expand yourself for others, and they'll be thankful, but only long enough to turn around, use, abuse, and spit in your face. It shouldn't be the way it is. It tears me apart and leaves me feeling sick with stupidity for ever putting myself out there for anyone. I just want to turn into a cocoon and have you, and everyone else leave me alone.
It's true, we can't always get what we want. But in my lifetime, anything I've truly desired to have in my life, I have worked hard and figured out a way to achieve, to buy, to possess what it is I desire. I've been fortunate enough to never have to cross anyone to do it either. But this scenario, it seems impossible. It's not my emotions, not my feelings that I must change, that I must go after, it's the feelings of another. How do you convince someone that you are the best thing for them? You can't, no matter how hard you try, no matter how well you articulate yourself, how well you prove or show that you would do anything for them. You're not Bruno Mars, you're more, and it's just not enough.
I keep waiting for this to be a nightmare, for it to end. It's to harsh, to vivid, to terrifying a feeling that lets me know it's not one, that I'm not asleep. Additionally, it could never be one since I can't sleep. The insomnia has returned, much as it was in Iraq. For the same reason, the self-realization comes into play. There's no sleep because I question everything that I ever believed to be true, and mostly the same question comes to play. My trust and faith in people whom I've given my heart to, my love to, my everything to. It's unfair, in a very unfair world, and my accepting of it has become something of a unfair challenge. I question how I will grow, or digress from this situation. Not every event in life you come out a better person, you can only hope to. Some events you learn nothing from, only to question if you've been living your life in the light of what you thought was right. The shades of gray you see now turn black and white and then back to gray before you can distinguish what turned which way.
I try and surround myself with good people, but as I've learned, those are a dying breed. There is not many people in this world that would stop whatever it is they are doing to save you in a dire time of need. People who see obstacles and stop, turn around, and cry about it is what we've been headed towards. It's sickening. We have an excuse for everything and every problem. There is no moxie, there is no perseverance, there is no hard work left in this world. Not from Americans at least, and our country, we have become infected with it. Helping the minority even if it hurts the majority. Making excuses for everything, and not pushing through the hardest things to get what we want. We give up. We surrender. We are cowards. We face a little adversity as Americans, as people in this world and we find an excuse to quit, a scapegoat to make ourselves feel less guilty about being selfish. That's all we are, a bunch of pre-madonna-don't-want-to-work-hard-and-find-an-excuse-to-be-assholes-to-each-other-and-never-take-responsibility-for-the-way-we-let-others-down, just so we can have it our way.
When I leave, there be no goodbye. It will be shockingly abrupt.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Dead As Yesterday
It's 6:33, and I'm too numb to cry. My soul yelps and screams, but only I hear it. I sip the cheap wine and listen to blues in the dark. I am not the lowest I have ever been, but close to it. An entirely new perspective on it though. The same depth, but a different place. I can't quite understand it, and I know that it will surely pass. Must surely pass. Pray to God it passes.
In this moment I feel way beyond empty. I can't drain the tears falling from these eyes, and I embrace as much of myself as I feel left. I never understood the power of love. It is as evil as it is good, and then probably slightly more evil. I don't have as many close friends close as I would like too, and I shudder as I lose confidence in others.
The problem with having friends in the military, is they all eventually move away. I don't think I would be quite as disrupted if I still had Scott and Tommy here. Or Mike. Or anyone else who I understand, and who understands me. I listen to sad songs because the happy ones only make me scoff. I can't feel them, don't seem to know that emotion today. I'm sure the alcohol won't help, but one glass should help to unnerve me.
A few months ago, I was on the verge of suicide. It's a place I never want to revisit. It's a formidable foe, that most people who say they've been there have never. In the Army we have mandatory suicide prevention classes, just like every office or regular job might, quarterly or annually and along with equal opportunity to boot. They tell you the signs to look for. These signs might be accurate for someone who is just doing it for attention. Some one who is serious, who is really that far down, they don't display any of those signs. In fact, they hide them. They push away everyone around them. I did. And no one knew, until much much later, after I had killed the beast.
I've never struggled so much controlling my emotions. I've always been good at being positive no matter the circumstances. I've always held such an edge on others in society. I've always done for others, and not for myself, so when my feelings become paramount, of course I'm going to struggle. I'm not use to dealing with myself. My feelings. It's difficult to combat yourself. I have to learn to let go of the things I cannot control, to include perhaps my feelings.
Going home was difficult. I realized that my family doesn't understand me. Most people don't though. I'm very complicated. I do more for others than for myself, and that's against the grain. I take your feelings further into consideration than I normally take my own. I've always thought that was because I was selfless, but as I sit here, trying to mull over everything that's happened, every which way I feel, I might only do for others because doing for myself is too hard. It's too much of a fight. Too scary. We all struggle within, but my struggles normally consist of what do I need to do to make others happy. What do I need to do to make myself better for the betterment of the people around me, for individuals in my life, for society.
Does that make me a coward? That I can't face myself. I think back to times in my life where I made decisions solely for myself, and how much I regretted them. How much thinking about those situations now make me physically ill till this day. They aren't many, but how deeply they have cut me, effected me. Of course I don't want to do things for myself, because although I might have felt joy, happiness for those mere moments, I put others off and in the way of my own good time. Selfishness isn't for me. It tears me apart at the very fibers of my soul. Maybe that's why when others don't show the same compassion for others, I feel extremely put off. That's why I feel put off when I'm at home. Everyone frets for themselves, all the time. There's no time for others. It's rush here and rush there. Fret for this fret for that. Our society isn't breaking down because people are bad, our society is breaking down because people don't take the time to care for one another. To use the proper etiquette, the proper manners towards each other. Yes, those take time, and we should have plenty of it. Everything is so convenient now. Drive through this and App for that. We should have all the time in the world.
I digress... this is supposed to be about me, but I don't want it to be. I want to shut you out and not let you in. It's embarrassing that I can't get a grasp on what plagues me, what haunts me. So, no one loves me, and today, today, neither do I.
'it will leave you feeling hollowed and helpless, and there is where you'll stay, ha ha, ain't it funny child love will leave you feeling as dead as yesterday... '
In this moment I feel way beyond empty. I can't drain the tears falling from these eyes, and I embrace as much of myself as I feel left. I never understood the power of love. It is as evil as it is good, and then probably slightly more evil. I don't have as many close friends close as I would like too, and I shudder as I lose confidence in others.
The problem with having friends in the military, is they all eventually move away. I don't think I would be quite as disrupted if I still had Scott and Tommy here. Or Mike. Or anyone else who I understand, and who understands me. I listen to sad songs because the happy ones only make me scoff. I can't feel them, don't seem to know that emotion today. I'm sure the alcohol won't help, but one glass should help to unnerve me.
A few months ago, I was on the verge of suicide. It's a place I never want to revisit. It's a formidable foe, that most people who say they've been there have never. In the Army we have mandatory suicide prevention classes, just like every office or regular job might, quarterly or annually and along with equal opportunity to boot. They tell you the signs to look for. These signs might be accurate for someone who is just doing it for attention. Some one who is serious, who is really that far down, they don't display any of those signs. In fact, they hide them. They push away everyone around them. I did. And no one knew, until much much later, after I had killed the beast.
I've never struggled so much controlling my emotions. I've always been good at being positive no matter the circumstances. I've always held such an edge on others in society. I've always done for others, and not for myself, so when my feelings become paramount, of course I'm going to struggle. I'm not use to dealing with myself. My feelings. It's difficult to combat yourself. I have to learn to let go of the things I cannot control, to include perhaps my feelings.
Going home was difficult. I realized that my family doesn't understand me. Most people don't though. I'm very complicated. I do more for others than for myself, and that's against the grain. I take your feelings further into consideration than I normally take my own. I've always thought that was because I was selfless, but as I sit here, trying to mull over everything that's happened, every which way I feel, I might only do for others because doing for myself is too hard. It's too much of a fight. Too scary. We all struggle within, but my struggles normally consist of what do I need to do to make others happy. What do I need to do to make myself better for the betterment of the people around me, for individuals in my life, for society.
Does that make me a coward? That I can't face myself. I think back to times in my life where I made decisions solely for myself, and how much I regretted them. How much thinking about those situations now make me physically ill till this day. They aren't many, but how deeply they have cut me, effected me. Of course I don't want to do things for myself, because although I might have felt joy, happiness for those mere moments, I put others off and in the way of my own good time. Selfishness isn't for me. It tears me apart at the very fibers of my soul. Maybe that's why when others don't show the same compassion for others, I feel extremely put off. That's why I feel put off when I'm at home. Everyone frets for themselves, all the time. There's no time for others. It's rush here and rush there. Fret for this fret for that. Our society isn't breaking down because people are bad, our society is breaking down because people don't take the time to care for one another. To use the proper etiquette, the proper manners towards each other. Yes, those take time, and we should have plenty of it. Everything is so convenient now. Drive through this and App for that. We should have all the time in the world.
I digress... this is supposed to be about me, but I don't want it to be. I want to shut you out and not let you in. It's embarrassing that I can't get a grasp on what plagues me, what haunts me. So, no one loves me, and today, today, neither do I.
'it will leave you feeling hollowed and helpless, and there is where you'll stay, ha ha, ain't it funny child love will leave you feeling as dead as yesterday... '
I Wish I Had Some Milk
My apartment is clean, full of furniture, pictures on the wall and even a welcome mat outside the door. Yet, it feels empty. I sit alone, on my bed and think. Think how I wanted to be in bed over an hour and a half ago. I listen to music, and try and find a new anthem to fit my mood.
My room has nothing on the wall, 'cept for a lonely 3x5 picture frame with a concert ticket and guitar pick in it. My TV is one fit for a living room, but it looks directly at my bed. I stare back at it and mimic it's blank stare. It's been a long time since I've watched it.
Wake up is just a few hours away, but my body doesn't seem to notice. I had been exhausted when I had arrived home, but with a few weeks worth of chores left undone, I couldn't allow myself time for a nap, or worse to veg-out and do nothing.
I constantly try and improve myself. I've been failing miserably of late, but as a great man once said, you learn all the ways to successfully not succeed in order to find the way to succeed every once in awhile. Tonight I'm more of an emotional mess than I have been in a long time. I'm a few months out of a very depressed state where suicide was a real and present option. I come back from vacation, and some of those feelings linger in this barren room. I need a catalyst, a muse, and writing has sometimes been the one I've sought out.
So, here I am. A dark room, the only light from my computer and a slight one that creeps under the door. It's a small room, and the computer light is bright enough to encapsulate it. A glass of water sits to my side and a few months ago it would've been a beer. I watch as the ice cubes melt, and shift in it. Not sure if they dance to the music I listen too, or if they are doing a separate rehearsal. The Bose headphones I have trap me in my own world, and if I close my eyes I don't even remember I have them on, but feel as if the music is coming from my own subconscious. Listening to it, it talks to me, knows me better than I know myself.
It's always when you're at your extremes that music has such a way to speak to you. To lead you, to humble you, to capture you. I don't know the artist, but whoever they are, they wrote this song for me. I try and reason with my subconscious but it never responds when I want it too.
I'm feeling emotion I have never felt before, and wonder if I actually exist. Beta, technology speaks to me better than most people do, and I side with it for a moment, forgetting my actuality. It feels good to be lost in a place that doesn't exist rather than exist in a place where you are lost. The song skips to something my sister would listen to, and I can't quite figure out what she sees in it. It's so dull, and maybe too deep for me to truly understand.
I had barely remembered to eat after I had gotten so busy with cleaning. My power had been off for a week or so, thanks to my sometimes forgetful roommate, and a string of bad luck that seems to be trolling for me. I cleaned the fridge out and held my breath as I nearly lost it cleaning out what was once frozen shrimp out of the freezer. The loss of almost all of my frozen and refrigerated substance had me confused on what to make. Since I'm a growing boy, I opted for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, rather than spaghetti without meat sauce. I regretted my decision somewhat as I hap-hazardly realized with a few tough chews, that I had no milk. Milk has so much substance, helps to swallow the hardest, thickest, most gooey chews. Water just won't do.
That bad luck lingers and so do these feelings. I need perspective on what I feel, and wish I had some peyote. The room darkens and my eyes finally start to feel their weight. As soon as I scratch the surface on the idea that will allow me to figure out what I'm going through, it's gone. It's ran too fast through my head, and I can't catch but more than a glimpse. I shuffle the play list and hope it brings me some clarity. My eyes, more heavy, more weary, they beg me for rest. My body, aching from a long day; it pleads with me. Only my mind, still working, still thinking, chewing, keeps me awake. I wish I had some milk...
My room has nothing on the wall, 'cept for a lonely 3x5 picture frame with a concert ticket and guitar pick in it. My TV is one fit for a living room, but it looks directly at my bed. I stare back at it and mimic it's blank stare. It's been a long time since I've watched it.
Wake up is just a few hours away, but my body doesn't seem to notice. I had been exhausted when I had arrived home, but with a few weeks worth of chores left undone, I couldn't allow myself time for a nap, or worse to veg-out and do nothing.
I constantly try and improve myself. I've been failing miserably of late, but as a great man once said, you learn all the ways to successfully not succeed in order to find the way to succeed every once in awhile. Tonight I'm more of an emotional mess than I have been in a long time. I'm a few months out of a very depressed state where suicide was a real and present option. I come back from vacation, and some of those feelings linger in this barren room. I need a catalyst, a muse, and writing has sometimes been the one I've sought out.
So, here I am. A dark room, the only light from my computer and a slight one that creeps under the door. It's a small room, and the computer light is bright enough to encapsulate it. A glass of water sits to my side and a few months ago it would've been a beer. I watch as the ice cubes melt, and shift in it. Not sure if they dance to the music I listen too, or if they are doing a separate rehearsal. The Bose headphones I have trap me in my own world, and if I close my eyes I don't even remember I have them on, but feel as if the music is coming from my own subconscious. Listening to it, it talks to me, knows me better than I know myself.
It's always when you're at your extremes that music has such a way to speak to you. To lead you, to humble you, to capture you. I don't know the artist, but whoever they are, they wrote this song for me. I try and reason with my subconscious but it never responds when I want it too.
I'm feeling emotion I have never felt before, and wonder if I actually exist. Beta, technology speaks to me better than most people do, and I side with it for a moment, forgetting my actuality. It feels good to be lost in a place that doesn't exist rather than exist in a place where you are lost. The song skips to something my sister would listen to, and I can't quite figure out what she sees in it. It's so dull, and maybe too deep for me to truly understand.
I had barely remembered to eat after I had gotten so busy with cleaning. My power had been off for a week or so, thanks to my sometimes forgetful roommate, and a string of bad luck that seems to be trolling for me. I cleaned the fridge out and held my breath as I nearly lost it cleaning out what was once frozen shrimp out of the freezer. The loss of almost all of my frozen and refrigerated substance had me confused on what to make. Since I'm a growing boy, I opted for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, rather than spaghetti without meat sauce. I regretted my decision somewhat as I hap-hazardly realized with a few tough chews, that I had no milk. Milk has so much substance, helps to swallow the hardest, thickest, most gooey chews. Water just won't do.
That bad luck lingers and so do these feelings. I need perspective on what I feel, and wish I had some peyote. The room darkens and my eyes finally start to feel their weight. As soon as I scratch the surface on the idea that will allow me to figure out what I'm going through, it's gone. It's ran too fast through my head, and I can't catch but more than a glimpse. I shuffle the play list and hope it brings me some clarity. My eyes, more heavy, more weary, they beg me for rest. My body, aching from a long day; it pleads with me. Only my mind, still working, still thinking, chewing, keeps me awake. I wish I had some milk...
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
World's Apart
It's strange how well you think when you're on the road, driving to a familiar destination. You zone out in a way on the physicals, the appearance, the grip of the steering wheel, the headlights and tail lights of vehicles in front and behind. You just think. It's deep thought, mostly unprovoked, and yet gingerly hinted by a part of you, somewhere deep.
I sit in my room, candles lit, and with less brevity that last night needed. Tonight they're for more luxury and soothing, as the soft lit shadows that now reflect all of my pieces of furniture, dancing at the top of the wall and onto the ceiling. They try to coo me into thought, but it's all too sporadic, all to influenced.
I try and replicate my car, my best thoughts, but I can't get the volume right. The quiet is even too loud. Nothing comes out as clear, as sexy. The lines aren't crisp. I don't write what was once thought and now unthinkable. I stare...
I wait for something to happen, stare at the screen until my eyes hurt even. It never happens and I start to think of different pain felt. My legs, after nearly two weeks of little to no exercise bark at me, beg of me to relieve them with a warm bath. The urge fades, my legs hurt from today, my soul from this year.
I reach for Advil and pour it down my throat like my mom's Thanksgiving gravy, and though I'm homesick, I'm also sick of home. I think of having a wine day, but the thought of alcohol still makes me sick. Cleaning doesn't seem to have the comforting affect it normally does, that way of making you concentrate the front of the mind on a menial task, while the back of the mind meditates, relaxes. Much the way cleaning a gun does. Or the way someone who paints my feel.
I pull out some albums, vinyls I've bought, but yet to play. I search for my record player and realize that I still don't have one. Too much is unfinished in my life, and a ripe 24 I feel optimistic about having the chance too.
I'm wearing my heart on my sleeves again, and looking in the mirror, realize why so many people don't. I know I'm hurt, and with most things I've injured in life I know that they mostly go back to normal, although small things about it may change. I feel like I might be physically injured at any time, to include by myself, but am optimistic to think it won't be that bad. Ouch, I bit my tongue- Literally
I scroll through photos of my trip to California. The best of them are on the PCH. I've always loved a drive on the coast, and wish that it had been a little warmer; the windows down and the breeze combing my hair. Ventura was incredibly great, and I'm glad I had saved it for the last weekend. Nothing could've compared, nothing could've culminated better. I close my eyes, trying to smell the air, feel the beach. I open my eyes. No muse here, no one beside me. Just me, not in a car, not on the road, not on the beach; just me-alone.
"World's apart, hearts broken in two, two, two..."
I sit in my room, candles lit, and with less brevity that last night needed. Tonight they're for more luxury and soothing, as the soft lit shadows that now reflect all of my pieces of furniture, dancing at the top of the wall and onto the ceiling. They try to coo me into thought, but it's all too sporadic, all to influenced.
I try and replicate my car, my best thoughts, but I can't get the volume right. The quiet is even too loud. Nothing comes out as clear, as sexy. The lines aren't crisp. I don't write what was once thought and now unthinkable. I stare...
I wait for something to happen, stare at the screen until my eyes hurt even. It never happens and I start to think of different pain felt. My legs, after nearly two weeks of little to no exercise bark at me, beg of me to relieve them with a warm bath. The urge fades, my legs hurt from today, my soul from this year.
I reach for Advil and pour it down my throat like my mom's Thanksgiving gravy, and though I'm homesick, I'm also sick of home. I think of having a wine day, but the thought of alcohol still makes me sick. Cleaning doesn't seem to have the comforting affect it normally does, that way of making you concentrate the front of the mind on a menial task, while the back of the mind meditates, relaxes. Much the way cleaning a gun does. Or the way someone who paints my feel.
I pull out some albums, vinyls I've bought, but yet to play. I search for my record player and realize that I still don't have one. Too much is unfinished in my life, and a ripe 24 I feel optimistic about having the chance too.
I'm wearing my heart on my sleeves again, and looking in the mirror, realize why so many people don't. I know I'm hurt, and with most things I've injured in life I know that they mostly go back to normal, although small things about it may change. I feel like I might be physically injured at any time, to include by myself, but am optimistic to think it won't be that bad. Ouch, I bit my tongue- Literally
I scroll through photos of my trip to California. The best of them are on the PCH. I've always loved a drive on the coast, and wish that it had been a little warmer; the windows down and the breeze combing my hair. Ventura was incredibly great, and I'm glad I had saved it for the last weekend. Nothing could've compared, nothing could've culminated better. I close my eyes, trying to smell the air, feel the beach. I open my eyes. No muse here, no one beside me. Just me, not in a car, not on the road, not on the beach; just me-alone."World's apart, hearts broken in two, two, two..."
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