I am the patron saint of lost causes
A fraction of who I once believed (change)
It's only a matter of time
Opinions I would try and rewrite
If life had background music playing your song
I have got to be honest, I tried to escape you
But the orchestra plays on, and they sang
Oh, things are going to change now for the better
And oh, things are going to change
Hands, like secrets, are the hardest thing to keep from you
Lines and phrases, like knives, your words can cut me through
Dismantle me down (repair)
You dismantle me
You dismantle me
... Ill be damned if I haven't heard a better song in years. Justin and Kristin, seriously... thank you for introducing me to Anberlin. I'm obsessed.
6.20.2009
6.15.2009
"Heaven's not a place that you go when you die..."
"... it's that moment in life when you actually feel alive." The Tide, The Spill Canvas
I can't write anymore. It sucks. Oh, I've been researching a bit of a book, maybe... it started pretty heavy, at least the research did, but... work, life, everything else got in the way, and I lost my spark.
Seems like I am losing my spark more and more these days. I'm not saying that as some drastic or depressed statement. I'm actually rather apathetic about it, and that probably bothers me more than anything about it.
But it's there... like a seed. Just needs water. The right kind of water.
So, it's a dry spell, another drout for the soul and the heart, but at least not a bad bad one. It's just done writing the same old story.
So, then... I need a new story. Not just for now, but for good. Words that matter, breaths that matter, touch that matters. As with everything, patience must rule... but I have been patient, and I really want to write again. I really want to feel again, to water the seed.
Off to find an ocean and a dusky evening, a dream, a watering can...
I can't write anymore. It sucks. Oh, I've been researching a bit of a book, maybe... it started pretty heavy, at least the research did, but... work, life, everything else got in the way, and I lost my spark.
Seems like I am losing my spark more and more these days. I'm not saying that as some drastic or depressed statement. I'm actually rather apathetic about it, and that probably bothers me more than anything about it.
But it's there... like a seed. Just needs water. The right kind of water.
So, it's a dry spell, another drout for the soul and the heart, but at least not a bad bad one. It's just done writing the same old story.
So, then... I need a new story. Not just for now, but for good. Words that matter, breaths that matter, touch that matters. As with everything, patience must rule... but I have been patient, and I really want to write again. I really want to feel again, to water the seed.
Off to find an ocean and a dusky evening, a dream, a watering can...
4.28.2009
"The results are always perfect..."
"... but that's old news."
I love you, Meat Puppets. And yes, Nirvana, but please people... go check out Meat Puppets II - it's where it all started.
So... no real results until tomorrow, but for now, the preliminary results: (drum roll, please)........ nothing wrong!
Sigh. If another doctor tells me, "whelp, it's not this!," I am going to punch him in the jaw. Especially after having had to "clean out" my system two weeks in a row, with a stomach/abdominal attack (that lasted longer than any one of them yet) in between.
So far, so little information. Hopefully we'll know more tomorrow. But like I said, Doctor Brown (a new one, this one the X-ray Guy) was optimistic he didn't see anything wrong. Which worries me.
Mom is convinced then that it's either my gall bladder (a point she made on my first trip to the emergency room, almost 6 weeks ago now) or a stomach ulcer - my original thought, and the reason why I went to my family doctor two months ago.
Thankfully, mom and I aren't doctors, but seriously, if this ends up being one of those two things, that, AHEM, the patient has MENTIONED time and again since the beginning of this ordeal... I'm gonna havta call Wayne Brady. And Wayne Brady is gonna havta smack a bitch!
I love you, Meat Puppets. And yes, Nirvana, but please people... go check out Meat Puppets II - it's where it all started.
So... no real results until tomorrow, but for now, the preliminary results: (drum roll, please)........ nothing wrong!
Sigh. If another doctor tells me, "whelp, it's not this!," I am going to punch him in the jaw. Especially after having had to "clean out" my system two weeks in a row, with a stomach/abdominal attack (that lasted longer than any one of them yet) in between.
So far, so little information. Hopefully we'll know more tomorrow. But like I said, Doctor Brown (a new one, this one the X-ray Guy) was optimistic he didn't see anything wrong. Which worries me.
Mom is convinced then that it's either my gall bladder (a point she made on my first trip to the emergency room, almost 6 weeks ago now) or a stomach ulcer - my original thought, and the reason why I went to my family doctor two months ago.
Thankfully, mom and I aren't doctors, but seriously, if this ends up being one of those two things, that, AHEM, the patient has MENTIONED time and again since the beginning of this ordeal... I'm gonna havta call Wayne Brady. And Wayne Brady is gonna havta smack a bitch!
4.27.2009
"Should I Turn On My Religion?"
"These demons in my head tell me to..."
The lyrics above - both the post title and the first line in the post - come from the Dream Theater song "Voices," long one of my favorites. For some reason, I woke up with the song "Lie" in my head, and grabbed the band's album Awake to listen to on my journeys this morning.
I had to make a trip downtown this morning, to Methodist and a place called Tower Surgical, for a consultation. It seems my stomach/abdominal issues have wrecked havoc on more than just my bowels. And with a name like Tower Surgical, I kind of had an idea what they'd be wanting to talk to me about.
Thankfully, my doctor was a friendly, older man who made me feel about as comfortable about surgery (something that profoundly freaks me the frack out) as I possibly could. We talked about the procedure, recovery time, and so on. He listened, too, which is always a good thing. Aside from the parking garage only taking cash - who does that any more?!? - the experience wasn't quite the pain in the ass I thought it would be - ahem.
But, I digress. Driving downtown, and back to my pharmacy on the far west side of Plainfield, and then back to the west side of Indianapolis for work gave me ample of time to listen to Awake. Nearly in it's entirity, which is saying something - the damn thing is nearly 75 minutes long. Like, I think they invented 80 minute compact discs because of this thing. I skipped around a lot, but just missed most of "Innocence Faded."
As I was driving and listening to "Voices," the lines "Should I turn on my religion/ these demons in my head tell me to..." hit me particularly hard. After having a bit of a "relapse" this past winter, I really haven't been very religious at all. I really haven't been touched or moved by religion since my friend Andrew (a Methodist pastor, and once a very good friend and like-minded, deep-thinking individual) and I had a falling out. I reckon this probably had to do with the fact that he was stronger in his beliefs, and lead me to think a certain way. Separate the sheep from the flock... and he easily gets lost, so they say.
I didn't abandon my beliefs all at once, and I am not sure I would say I have "abandoned" them now. Rather, my perspective has slowly changed, as has my life and experiences. Whereas before I had a deep-seated belief in God as savior, goodness, instructor, risk-taker, and a mover and shaker in the world, now... I simply don't. God, to me, is... something, something untangible. Not unreal, but just... distant.
The good Christian will chide me and say, "No, Dusty, it is YOU who is distant from God, not the other way around." But, alas, distance is distance. I can be no less than a mile away from God if he is no less than a mile away from me, and vice versa. I do still pray, though I don't necessarily believe in prayer any more than I do the Easter bunny. I recognize Jesus as a prophet, though I doubt the relational experience so many people rave about that I just truly have never felt in my heart. I do think God speaks to us, every single one of us, but only when we ARE looking for it, as in a sunset or a smile.
My discussions with Cory, Rachel, Joe, Mike, recently Olivia, and earlier Andy, all continue to, not influence me, but rather encourage me to continue to explore, to find the limits of my beliefs, the comfort zones and the danger zones. Music, as always, plays its part, sometimes quite largely. I have always been a fan of passion, and some Christian music is very passionate, very moving, deep and thoughtful. Some of my favorite bands are Christian or have had religious ties (though that aren't ever the truly popular ones).
I have always been a bit of a seeker, a searcher. It is only until recently when my fear of "letting down God" has subsided enough for me to face the truth - I have lost the faith I once had. Or, rather, that faith has changed, is being placed in other things, other... people. And myself. Friends, family, and myself.
God as a grand creator appeals to me, in a very real, spiritual way. The ebb and flow of the ocean tides, the stars and the moon, the swaying, green praries and the far, nigh-unreachable mountain tops remind me daily that we were created by something, something grand and big and beautiful. But... a good grandfather doesn't just dole out candy to the kids. Actually, the grandfather metaphor doesn't even work, at all really.
God as benevolent grandfather is myth. God as Father is a myth. God as mover and shaker is a myth. God as healer, comforter... myth. Or maybe he is. How the hell should I know? (see, I still have a hard time completely letting go... sigh)
This is what I know... in the last few weeks, when I have hurt so bad that I got delusional, and started honestly thinking that drilling a hole in my stomach to relieve the pressure was a good idea, I prayed. I prayed the pain would go away. And, it didn't. When a table saw to the gut sounded less like a horror flick and more like heaven-sent, and I prayed for some release of the pain and the madness it produced... the prayers were not answered. So... God chose me to suffer, instead? That doesn't line up with a caring, comforting, healing God.
Olivia had some wonderful things to say about this, with her own experiences and her father's failing health. It was good to speak to her. She had many thoughtful things to say. Rachel, too, has had a lot of things to say recently - not as in depth, and more towards the other end of the spectrum of belief, but thoughtful nonetheless. Each of us carries our own life experiences to God and religion, and so each of us carries something different away from those same places.
As for me... I still hold out hope that God, if anything, is love. I desperately want him to be a doddering old fool of a grandfather, with few teeth but a lovely smile, old, wrinkled hands, a papery smell and a worn old sweater. I want him to look at me when I die and say, "You did well - you had to learn your lessons the hard way, but it was a good life. You loved, your learned, you lived. That's all you were meant to do." And I want that to be the truth.
So the rules, the prayers, the scriptures and the crushing doubt that always stands in my shadows, I can do without them. The calling out in the middle of the night for some release for the pain, I can do without that. The silent, shaking hands, clasped in dire need or want of something, some goodness, I might get by without it. I think God loves us. I just don't think he moves and shakes, at least not very much, not any more. He's a good God, but not a gentle one. He set the world to spin, and sometimes, it spins out of control, and we just have to hold on. We make our way in the world, the best way we know how.
For all the pain, there is some goodness. For all the suffering, there is peace and hope. We love, we learn, we live.
It scares me to death to post this, not because I fear for me. I'm afraid God will steal someone I love away. As punishment. And God really shouldn't be like that. It's a sad state of affairs, that religion has made of my mind and my heart. Sigh.
The lyrics above - both the post title and the first line in the post - come from the Dream Theater song "Voices," long one of my favorites. For some reason, I woke up with the song "Lie" in my head, and grabbed the band's album Awake to listen to on my journeys this morning.
I had to make a trip downtown this morning, to Methodist and a place called Tower Surgical, for a consultation. It seems my stomach/abdominal issues have wrecked havoc on more than just my bowels. And with a name like Tower Surgical, I kind of had an idea what they'd be wanting to talk to me about.
Thankfully, my doctor was a friendly, older man who made me feel about as comfortable about surgery (something that profoundly freaks me the frack out) as I possibly could. We talked about the procedure, recovery time, and so on. He listened, too, which is always a good thing. Aside from the parking garage only taking cash - who does that any more?!? - the experience wasn't quite the pain in the ass I thought it would be - ahem.
But, I digress. Driving downtown, and back to my pharmacy on the far west side of Plainfield, and then back to the west side of Indianapolis for work gave me ample of time to listen to Awake. Nearly in it's entirity, which is saying something - the damn thing is nearly 75 minutes long. Like, I think they invented 80 minute compact discs because of this thing. I skipped around a lot, but just missed most of "Innocence Faded."
As I was driving and listening to "Voices," the lines "Should I turn on my religion/ these demons in my head tell me to..." hit me particularly hard. After having a bit of a "relapse" this past winter, I really haven't been very religious at all. I really haven't been touched or moved by religion since my friend Andrew (a Methodist pastor, and once a very good friend and like-minded, deep-thinking individual) and I had a falling out. I reckon this probably had to do with the fact that he was stronger in his beliefs, and lead me to think a certain way. Separate the sheep from the flock... and he easily gets lost, so they say.
I didn't abandon my beliefs all at once, and I am not sure I would say I have "abandoned" them now. Rather, my perspective has slowly changed, as has my life and experiences. Whereas before I had a deep-seated belief in God as savior, goodness, instructor, risk-taker, and a mover and shaker in the world, now... I simply don't. God, to me, is... something, something untangible. Not unreal, but just... distant.
The good Christian will chide me and say, "No, Dusty, it is YOU who is distant from God, not the other way around." But, alas, distance is distance. I can be no less than a mile away from God if he is no less than a mile away from me, and vice versa. I do still pray, though I don't necessarily believe in prayer any more than I do the Easter bunny. I recognize Jesus as a prophet, though I doubt the relational experience so many people rave about that I just truly have never felt in my heart. I do think God speaks to us, every single one of us, but only when we ARE looking for it, as in a sunset or a smile.
My discussions with Cory, Rachel, Joe, Mike, recently Olivia, and earlier Andy, all continue to, not influence me, but rather encourage me to continue to explore, to find the limits of my beliefs, the comfort zones and the danger zones. Music, as always, plays its part, sometimes quite largely. I have always been a fan of passion, and some Christian music is very passionate, very moving, deep and thoughtful. Some of my favorite bands are Christian or have had religious ties (though that aren't ever the truly popular ones).
I have always been a bit of a seeker, a searcher. It is only until recently when my fear of "letting down God" has subsided enough for me to face the truth - I have lost the faith I once had. Or, rather, that faith has changed, is being placed in other things, other... people. And myself. Friends, family, and myself.
God as a grand creator appeals to me, in a very real, spiritual way. The ebb and flow of the ocean tides, the stars and the moon, the swaying, green praries and the far, nigh-unreachable mountain tops remind me daily that we were created by something, something grand and big and beautiful. But... a good grandfather doesn't just dole out candy to the kids. Actually, the grandfather metaphor doesn't even work, at all really.
God as benevolent grandfather is myth. God as Father is a myth. God as mover and shaker is a myth. God as healer, comforter... myth. Or maybe he is. How the hell should I know? (see, I still have a hard time completely letting go... sigh)
This is what I know... in the last few weeks, when I have hurt so bad that I got delusional, and started honestly thinking that drilling a hole in my stomach to relieve the pressure was a good idea, I prayed. I prayed the pain would go away. And, it didn't. When a table saw to the gut sounded less like a horror flick and more like heaven-sent, and I prayed for some release of the pain and the madness it produced... the prayers were not answered. So... God chose me to suffer, instead? That doesn't line up with a caring, comforting, healing God.
Olivia had some wonderful things to say about this, with her own experiences and her father's failing health. It was good to speak to her. She had many thoughtful things to say. Rachel, too, has had a lot of things to say recently - not as in depth, and more towards the other end of the spectrum of belief, but thoughtful nonetheless. Each of us carries our own life experiences to God and religion, and so each of us carries something different away from those same places.
As for me... I still hold out hope that God, if anything, is love. I desperately want him to be a doddering old fool of a grandfather, with few teeth but a lovely smile, old, wrinkled hands, a papery smell and a worn old sweater. I want him to look at me when I die and say, "You did well - you had to learn your lessons the hard way, but it was a good life. You loved, your learned, you lived. That's all you were meant to do." And I want that to be the truth.
So the rules, the prayers, the scriptures and the crushing doubt that always stands in my shadows, I can do without them. The calling out in the middle of the night for some release for the pain, I can do without that. The silent, shaking hands, clasped in dire need or want of something, some goodness, I might get by without it. I think God loves us. I just don't think he moves and shakes, at least not very much, not any more. He's a good God, but not a gentle one. He set the world to spin, and sometimes, it spins out of control, and we just have to hold on. We make our way in the world, the best way we know how.
For all the pain, there is some goodness. For all the suffering, there is peace and hope. We love, we learn, we live.
It scares me to death to post this, not because I fear for me. I'm afraid God will steal someone I love away. As punishment. And God really shouldn't be like that. It's a sad state of affairs, that religion has made of my mind and my heart. Sigh.
4.26.2009
Guessing Games
Well. I haven't written on here very much - at all? - about what has been going on in my life lately. Not that I have many readers - 2, 3? - and not that they don't already know...
Over the last two months, I've been having some severe stomach/abdominal pains. About a month and a half ago, it got so bad after three intense days that I had my parents take me to the emergency room. Some morphine and a CT scan later... they decided I did not have Appendicitis. Or a bad gall bladder (so they said). The word that they mentioned was Colitis, and possible Crohn's Disease. I was recommended to a gastro-intestinal specialist, given some Vicodin for the pain and some antibiotics to kill the inflammation they saw in my large and small intestines.
Well, I saw that doctor, and he recommended I have a test done where they stick a tube down my throat, blow dye into my stomach and bowels, and do a CT scan to see the results. He also said if I was feeling better, I could play the "wait and see" game. I didn't want to have to blow my system out with drugs to get ready for the test - I was already having lower bowel pain and issues from all the sickness, as it were - so I decided to play wait and see.
(INTERJECTION: for clarity's sake - I was not supposed to eat spicy or greasy foods, which I did my best to stay away from, for the most part. Also, the pain - my stomach hurts in general, but there is also a severe cramping and bloating that comes with it. Sometimes the bloating gets so bad that I feel like my insides surely will burst, and sometimes, I wish that would happen, as some kind of release from the pain. Read more below. End Interjection.)
Long story short: I was back in the emergency room within a week, almost two weeks exactly since the first time. I called my family doctor to get more meds, to no avail. The gastro-intestinal doctor denied me meds, too, and said to go to the emergency room (or so his nurse said). So, back to the ER I went, where I had another CT scan (this time with contrast dye) after a failed half-hour of trying to get my IV in. I ended up getting sick and vomitting in the hospital, after which I felt much better.
The second emergency visit prompted my stomach doctor to rush me in for... a colonoscopy. Now, I really had to blow my system out. This was about two weeks ago. It was miserable, I was and still am so sore from all the havoc wrecked on my system. Long story short: they found two polyps, sent away for biopsy, came back negative. No cancer, no evidence of Crohn's disease or Inflammatory Bowel Disease. I was given a clean bill of health - this past Tuesday.
So why did my pain return on Thursday? Part of it is surely my fault - I ate pizza on Tuesday night, I was so hungry (couldn't eat for 36+ hours) and I was craving something tasty. But, they said all the inflammation was gone, no trace of it. So, I thought, in essence, I was cured.
Turns out they may have been looking in the wrong place.
Since the ER does me little good - it's basically a chance to get high powered pain meds like Morphine, which works incredibly well but wears off and doesn't prevent the pain from returning - I decided to tough it out this weekend when the ailment returned.
Now I've got an appointment, as a consultation, to deal with my destroyed lower bowels on Monday, and the original Stomach Dye test that I turned down on Tuesday. Hopefully, we'll start figuring out what this IS, and not what it is NOT.
In the meantime... I am trying to keep my spirits up. This has been the first really bad medical thing I have had to go through. It's starting to get to me, to get into my head a little bit. I can't describe that... it's just odd to not be able to escape your pain. Pain medicines, the ones you buy over the counter, even the Vicodin they gave me, they all don't really work. They just tear my system up even more, which starts this whole thing over again.
For now, I am hanging in there. My life has been pretty disrupted, but I am game for the next steps... hopefully they can find out what is wrong, we can treat it, and I can move on. Keep your fingers crossed.
Over the last two months, I've been having some severe stomach/abdominal pains. About a month and a half ago, it got so bad after three intense days that I had my parents take me to the emergency room. Some morphine and a CT scan later... they decided I did not have Appendicitis. Or a bad gall bladder (so they said). The word that they mentioned was Colitis, and possible Crohn's Disease. I was recommended to a gastro-intestinal specialist, given some Vicodin for the pain and some antibiotics to kill the inflammation they saw in my large and small intestines.
Well, I saw that doctor, and he recommended I have a test done where they stick a tube down my throat, blow dye into my stomach and bowels, and do a CT scan to see the results. He also said if I was feeling better, I could play the "wait and see" game. I didn't want to have to blow my system out with drugs to get ready for the test - I was already having lower bowel pain and issues from all the sickness, as it were - so I decided to play wait and see.
(INTERJECTION: for clarity's sake - I was not supposed to eat spicy or greasy foods, which I did my best to stay away from, for the most part. Also, the pain - my stomach hurts in general, but there is also a severe cramping and bloating that comes with it. Sometimes the bloating gets so bad that I feel like my insides surely will burst, and sometimes, I wish that would happen, as some kind of release from the pain. Read more below. End Interjection.)
Long story short: I was back in the emergency room within a week, almost two weeks exactly since the first time. I called my family doctor to get more meds, to no avail. The gastro-intestinal doctor denied me meds, too, and said to go to the emergency room (or so his nurse said). So, back to the ER I went, where I had another CT scan (this time with contrast dye) after a failed half-hour of trying to get my IV in. I ended up getting sick and vomitting in the hospital, after which I felt much better.
The second emergency visit prompted my stomach doctor to rush me in for... a colonoscopy. Now, I really had to blow my system out. This was about two weeks ago. It was miserable, I was and still am so sore from all the havoc wrecked on my system. Long story short: they found two polyps, sent away for biopsy, came back negative. No cancer, no evidence of Crohn's disease or Inflammatory Bowel Disease. I was given a clean bill of health - this past Tuesday.
So why did my pain return on Thursday? Part of it is surely my fault - I ate pizza on Tuesday night, I was so hungry (couldn't eat for 36+ hours) and I was craving something tasty. But, they said all the inflammation was gone, no trace of it. So, I thought, in essence, I was cured.
Turns out they may have been looking in the wrong place.
Since the ER does me little good - it's basically a chance to get high powered pain meds like Morphine, which works incredibly well but wears off and doesn't prevent the pain from returning - I decided to tough it out this weekend when the ailment returned.
Now I've got an appointment, as a consultation, to deal with my destroyed lower bowels on Monday, and the original Stomach Dye test that I turned down on Tuesday. Hopefully, we'll start figuring out what this IS, and not what it is NOT.
In the meantime... I am trying to keep my spirits up. This has been the first really bad medical thing I have had to go through. It's starting to get to me, to get into my head a little bit. I can't describe that... it's just odd to not be able to escape your pain. Pain medicines, the ones you buy over the counter, even the Vicodin they gave me, they all don't really work. They just tear my system up even more, which starts this whole thing over again.
For now, I am hanging in there. My life has been pretty disrupted, but I am game for the next steps... hopefully they can find out what is wrong, we can treat it, and I can move on. Keep your fingers crossed.
4.19.2009
We Built The Pyramids
So... is geek really chic? It's a fun question. Is it now cool to be into video games, dungeons and dragons, striped shirts, big rims (glasses, not wheels), science fiction, and corduroys? Why not - what there is not to love?
After spending a good amount of time - in a short while, mind you - blitzing through the wonderful television series Freaks and Geeks, I was rewarded with The Big Bang Theory Season One, a gift from a friend that, well, kept on giving. Regretfully, I have not had time to watch the "Guided to Geek Chic" bonus feature - busy as I am downloading WoW patches and re-watching the first three seasons of Battlestar Galactica in order to prepare for watching said show's fourth and final season - but seeing that the BBT season collection had such a thing as a featurette on Geek dress made me... start to think.
Now, I am a geek. Maybe not in the painfully obvious, and overblown, ways that the characters in BBT are, and a little less High School, and more a mixture of both the geeks and the freaks, as in Freaks and Geeks (my slavish devotion and rabid obsession with music gets me awfully close to freak territory - then again, the useless, nearly depthless amount of useless knowledge I possess about music probably swings me back towards geek - it's not physics, but I promise you, it's big and impressive...). But a geek, nonetheless. I own my fair share of esoteric geek material, such as a pretty fine collectioon of Dragonlance novels (and game materials), way too many BattleMechs, a bunch of the original Final Fantasy games for PlayStation (FF1 and FF2/4 being my faves), and Firefly and BSG and CSI seasons on DVD. We won't get into the bad movies I love.
TV shows like BBT make geeks fun, make 'em look cool. But me and you? We're not cool. Well, I am, but that's a different story. Then, it struck me... maybe I'm not geeky enough! I mean, this whole new geek world is supposed to be full of opportunities for us, like sex with scientific girls who play violin, and making out with cheerleaders, and all that jazz. I mean, am I missing something? Am I just too plan ordinary?
I have always been a fence sitter, one foot on one side of the yard, one foot in the other. I was never a full jock, never a full geek, never a full freak, never a full church kid. I was always somewhere in the middle, able to surf the social channels of high school with (relative) ease. Now, I got picked on a lot when I was younger, but as I aged, that changed, and by my junior year of high school I was pretty damned comfortable being the almost-jock/nerd/geek/churchkid/freak that I was. Does that mean I was everything and nothing, faceless, too homogenized to be exciting?
Nowadays? It's all rock music mixed with folk and metal. It's (not often) lifting weights afterwork and running on the treadmill mixed with (more often) weeks of being lazy, or (less often) walking the dog at that park or shooting hoops by myself. (and summer means hiking!!) It's Battlestar Galactica and World of Warcraft mixed with lots and lots of college and NBA basketball, cheesey and crude Judd Apatow movies, less crude but still corny Cameron Crowe movies, and The Who biography on DVD. It's t-shirts and jeans and work boots mixed with... sometimes a button down, but usually not much else. Maybe a sweater. It's geeky, boxy glasses mixed with a fading hairline and a goatee with the chin-strap, teeth all brushed and body all showered. It's fit everywhere else mixed in with a little beer tummy. It's cranky, silly humor mixed in with tempermental driving mixed with rapid fire wit and backporch, beer-and-cigarette philosphy, and long, late night conversations with good friends.
So, what I am trying to say, is that I am cool while being geek. Who know's if it's chic. Who cares? I can't quote physics equations, and I can't quote baseball statistics. I ain't tall, don't have good hair, and don't dress GQ. But I've got skillz on guitarz, Gheis and Choppy will make mince meat out of your Hordemoh little druid thing, and I can tell you that one of the original Beatles managers slept with the Beatles original drummer's mom, despite being 20+ years her junion, and whilst her son was still drumming in the band. Godspeed, Pete Best's mom. Godspeed.
After spending a good amount of time - in a short while, mind you - blitzing through the wonderful television series Freaks and Geeks, I was rewarded with The Big Bang Theory Season One, a gift from a friend that, well, kept on giving. Regretfully, I have not had time to watch the "Guided to Geek Chic" bonus feature - busy as I am downloading WoW patches and re-watching the first three seasons of Battlestar Galactica in order to prepare for watching said show's fourth and final season - but seeing that the BBT season collection had such a thing as a featurette on Geek dress made me... start to think.
Now, I am a geek. Maybe not in the painfully obvious, and overblown, ways that the characters in BBT are, and a little less High School, and more a mixture of both the geeks and the freaks, as in Freaks and Geeks (my slavish devotion and rabid obsession with music gets me awfully close to freak territory - then again, the useless, nearly depthless amount of useless knowledge I possess about music probably swings me back towards geek - it's not physics, but I promise you, it's big and impressive...). But a geek, nonetheless. I own my fair share of esoteric geek material, such as a pretty fine collectioon of Dragonlance novels (and game materials), way too many BattleMechs, a bunch of the original Final Fantasy games for PlayStation (FF1 and FF2/4 being my faves), and Firefly and BSG and CSI seasons on DVD. We won't get into the bad movies I love.
TV shows like BBT make geeks fun, make 'em look cool. But me and you? We're not cool. Well, I am, but that's a different story. Then, it struck me... maybe I'm not geeky enough! I mean, this whole new geek world is supposed to be full of opportunities for us, like sex with scientific girls who play violin, and making out with cheerleaders, and all that jazz. I mean, am I missing something? Am I just too plan ordinary?
I have always been a fence sitter, one foot on one side of the yard, one foot in the other. I was never a full jock, never a full geek, never a full freak, never a full church kid. I was always somewhere in the middle, able to surf the social channels of high school with (relative) ease. Now, I got picked on a lot when I was younger, but as I aged, that changed, and by my junior year of high school I was pretty damned comfortable being the almost-jock/nerd/geek/churchkid/freak that I was. Does that mean I was everything and nothing, faceless, too homogenized to be exciting?
Nowadays? It's all rock music mixed with folk and metal. It's (not often) lifting weights afterwork and running on the treadmill mixed with (more often) weeks of being lazy, or (less often) walking the dog at that park or shooting hoops by myself. (and summer means hiking!!) It's Battlestar Galactica and World of Warcraft mixed with lots and lots of college and NBA basketball, cheesey and crude Judd Apatow movies, less crude but still corny Cameron Crowe movies, and The Who biography on DVD. It's t-shirts and jeans and work boots mixed with... sometimes a button down, but usually not much else. Maybe a sweater. It's geeky, boxy glasses mixed with a fading hairline and a goatee with the chin-strap, teeth all brushed and body all showered. It's fit everywhere else mixed in with a little beer tummy. It's cranky, silly humor mixed in with tempermental driving mixed with rapid fire wit and backporch, beer-and-cigarette philosphy, and long, late night conversations with good friends.
So, what I am trying to say, is that I am cool while being geek. Who know's if it's chic. Who cares? I can't quote physics equations, and I can't quote baseball statistics. I ain't tall, don't have good hair, and don't dress GQ. But I've got skillz on guitarz, Gheis and Choppy will make mince meat out of your Hordemoh little druid thing, and I can tell you that one of the original Beatles managers slept with the Beatles original drummer's mom, despite being 20+ years her junion, and whilst her son was still drumming in the band. Godspeed, Pete Best's mom. Godspeed.
4.14.2009
Teenage Dirtbag?
Sigh. Drama. I thought geek was supposed to be chic? But seriously, listening to young people talk around my office, I always pause and wonder... how did we get this way? How did it get this bad?
I wonder when we're going to start appreciating people again. Maybe I am not the one to get on a soapbox here. I have a friend who constantly calls me out for not doing as much as she does for me. Sometimes I think that is just projection - we can't be everywhere at once. But many times I know she is right.
As I traverse the daily landscape of my life, I frequently forget about people who should be on my mind - a friend I haven't spoken to in months in the hospital, a friend far away who's mother is ill, making time to do something with my best friend from high school who lives right down the road from me - and instead focus on my own problems. That, I suppose, is human nature. And, I suspect, so too is prioritizing - participating in one friend's life more than another, and doing more for someone who means more to you than you might do for another friend. Sometimes, we might not do or say much but still feel a strong bond of friendship. I don't think the difference between one friend and another is a matter of slight or anything personal. Again, I suspect it is more human nature, and how strong we perceive our bonds of friendship to that person.
Bah. This was supposed to be a fun post, but conversations I overhear at work stick with me. They make me wonder. Making fun of a kid, ostracizing him because he didn't know how to ask you out, that's just bullshit. Relations between the opposite sex are hard enough on their own. Add in meanness and suspicion... and I swear, that kid is FAR BETTER OFF. Because I wouldn't wish some of these people, on their best day, on my enemies.
Which just reminds me... we all make fun of other people. Someone makes a terrible face, or does something silly, or makes some hideous cheese blunder, and we're off to the races. And that's ok, because life is full of funny moments. And it's ok to laugh at other people, even at their own expense. Some people DO dress themselves, after all... and they chose that? Wha? But, I digress. There's a time for everything, a season, so the song says. Just don't forget to have a heart and be a real person when someone else is being serious, and laying themselves on the line. How would you feel if someone told you that you were too fat to date? Or too short? Or too tall, too skinny? What if they laughed in your face and said you were too white, or too black? Too normal? Too strange? A simple no will do. Have a heart, people. For God's sakes or your own, I don't care which. Be good to each other!
Note to self: be good to others. Grow, live, learn, love... and have a good time.
I wonder when we're going to start appreciating people again. Maybe I am not the one to get on a soapbox here. I have a friend who constantly calls me out for not doing as much as she does for me. Sometimes I think that is just projection - we can't be everywhere at once. But many times I know she is right.
As I traverse the daily landscape of my life, I frequently forget about people who should be on my mind - a friend I haven't spoken to in months in the hospital, a friend far away who's mother is ill, making time to do something with my best friend from high school who lives right down the road from me - and instead focus on my own problems. That, I suppose, is human nature. And, I suspect, so too is prioritizing - participating in one friend's life more than another, and doing more for someone who means more to you than you might do for another friend. Sometimes, we might not do or say much but still feel a strong bond of friendship. I don't think the difference between one friend and another is a matter of slight or anything personal. Again, I suspect it is more human nature, and how strong we perceive our bonds of friendship to that person.
Bah. This was supposed to be a fun post, but conversations I overhear at work stick with me. They make me wonder. Making fun of a kid, ostracizing him because he didn't know how to ask you out, that's just bullshit. Relations between the opposite sex are hard enough on their own. Add in meanness and suspicion... and I swear, that kid is FAR BETTER OFF. Because I wouldn't wish some of these people, on their best day, on my enemies.
Which just reminds me... we all make fun of other people. Someone makes a terrible face, or does something silly, or makes some hideous cheese blunder, and we're off to the races. And that's ok, because life is full of funny moments. And it's ok to laugh at other people, even at their own expense. Some people DO dress themselves, after all... and they chose that? Wha? But, I digress. There's a time for everything, a season, so the song says. Just don't forget to have a heart and be a real person when someone else is being serious, and laying themselves on the line. How would you feel if someone told you that you were too fat to date? Or too short? Or too tall, too skinny? What if they laughed in your face and said you were too white, or too black? Too normal? Too strange? A simple no will do. Have a heart, people. For God's sakes or your own, I don't care which. Be good to each other!
Note to self: be good to others. Grow, live, learn, love... and have a good time.
4.05.2009
And I Must Refuse Your Test
Reflection. It's like a really good drug that sometimes screws you up, and sometimes fixes you. Depends on your mood? Maybe. 2008 was my "big year of reflection." You know, getting all of the baggage out of the way, seeing which ways things might swing, putting to bed lingering issues, moving forward.
2008 was all of that, and more. But life is kind of a cycle, is definitely a journey, and is truly better with experience. Sometimes, living from the blood machine can be painful, as much as it can be uplifting and joyous. Happiness comes in waves. Yes, general happiness can be ever-present, and more so than since 2005-ish, I was pretty damned happy last year, generally speaking.
Reflection continues, however. Small my table... often, seats just one. Gets so crowded, and there's no fun.
You love what you love, people. And I love a lot. A lot of things, I don't or can't love - it's not in the cards. And we are fickle, selfish people. Nothing new there. I believe in the goodness of mankind, and have for a while. But I also believe it takes one helluva effort to get man out of his own way - his goodness only goes so far as his selfishness will allow.
My take on personal relationships: see above. Friends and lovers: see above. Family can be so much easier... it is easier to be selfless to ones you've loved and been with your whole life (for some, and notice the qualifier "loved" - not all family works this way. for the rest: see above).
We're all wanting something. The world throws a billion tests our way, along the way. Religion, politics, death, love, friendship, sex, food, work, you name it. Road blocks. Yes, road blocks to some of those very things - love can interfere with love, can and will. Be a philosopher. It works. Think it. Feel it. Put one foot in front of the other. Step over the road blocks? Isn't that easy, not usually. But... maybe.
It is tough to be a searcher. But call me The Seeker - I've been searching low and high. I hope that I get what I'm after... before the day I die.
2008 was all of that, and more. But life is kind of a cycle, is definitely a journey, and is truly better with experience. Sometimes, living from the blood machine can be painful, as much as it can be uplifting and joyous. Happiness comes in waves. Yes, general happiness can be ever-present, and more so than since 2005-ish, I was pretty damned happy last year, generally speaking.
Reflection continues, however. Small my table... often, seats just one. Gets so crowded, and there's no fun.
You love what you love, people. And I love a lot. A lot of things, I don't or can't love - it's not in the cards. And we are fickle, selfish people. Nothing new there. I believe in the goodness of mankind, and have for a while. But I also believe it takes one helluva effort to get man out of his own way - his goodness only goes so far as his selfishness will allow.
My take on personal relationships: see above. Friends and lovers: see above. Family can be so much easier... it is easier to be selfless to ones you've loved and been with your whole life (for some, and notice the qualifier "loved" - not all family works this way. for the rest: see above).
We're all wanting something. The world throws a billion tests our way, along the way. Religion, politics, death, love, friendship, sex, food, work, you name it. Road blocks. Yes, road blocks to some of those very things - love can interfere with love, can and will. Be a philosopher. It works. Think it. Feel it. Put one foot in front of the other. Step over the road blocks? Isn't that easy, not usually. But... maybe.
It is tough to be a searcher. But call me The Seeker - I've been searching low and high. I hope that I get what I'm after... before the day I die.
3.25.2009
Past, Present, Future... Karl.
It sometimes makes little to no sense, but sometimes, when you are sick and hurting and bored (and lonely), you start to take stock of what is going on in your life. And maybe because you're sore and not feeling hot, everything feels like a little kick to the shins or a punch to the gut, or a knee to the groin. It's not that there is no hope; it's just that you feel stuck. I worry like that - worry that I'll end up a fat, bald, lonely Karl, like Karl from Aqua Teens. I've got my sweatpants and my girlie mags and and beer and my hookers paid off in quarters and nickels and dimes. Sometimes I worry that's how I'll end up.
Girls don't scream about how cute I am. My health is failing, my hair is receding, my gut is growing despite my half-hearted attempts to shrink it. I'm a little bitter, but mostly just worried. No companionship sucks.
Sometimes I feel like I am going nowhere with my life, because I am going nowhere with my job. I make dick.99, which makes it hard to save, go back to school, pay off bad credit decisions made when I made more money, etc. I can blame the economy, but some of it is my fault. Problem is, sometimes it feels like a lot of it is my fault. My job makes me feel like a mindless drone, a poor monkey, a goes-nowhere Karl.
Sometimes your friends surprise you, and then again, sometimes you wonder who your friends really are; sometimes they piss you off. Sometimes you piss them off, too. Happens. But sometimes they are just Karls too.
People fail, I get that. Life is as much failure as success, and it's how we handle BOTH that really defines us. But as I look at a non-existent love life (for christ's sakes, my ex-girlfriend - who doesn't consider ours much a relationship - showed more concern about me being in the hospital than my current semi-girlfriend, who doesn't seem all that interested in me at all), as I look at others moving on and up and work, as I look at friends leaving, at I look at my financial situation growing dimmer, as I look at friends hurting and none of these things changing in major positive ways... I just don't want to be a Karl.
Girls don't scream about how cute I am. My health is failing, my hair is receding, my gut is growing despite my half-hearted attempts to shrink it. I'm a little bitter, but mostly just worried. No companionship sucks.
Sometimes I feel like I am going nowhere with my life, because I am going nowhere with my job. I make dick.99, which makes it hard to save, go back to school, pay off bad credit decisions made when I made more money, etc. I can blame the economy, but some of it is my fault. Problem is, sometimes it feels like a lot of it is my fault. My job makes me feel like a mindless drone, a poor monkey, a goes-nowhere Karl.
Sometimes your friends surprise you, and then again, sometimes you wonder who your friends really are; sometimes they piss you off. Sometimes you piss them off, too. Happens. But sometimes they are just Karls too.
People fail, I get that. Life is as much failure as success, and it's how we handle BOTH that really defines us. But as I look at a non-existent love life (for christ's sakes, my ex-girlfriend - who doesn't consider ours much a relationship - showed more concern about me being in the hospital than my current semi-girlfriend, who doesn't seem all that interested in me at all), as I look at others moving on and up and work, as I look at friends leaving, at I look at my financial situation growing dimmer, as I look at friends hurting and none of these things changing in major positive ways... I just don't want to be a Karl.
3.16.2009
Radio Free Indiana
In the 90’s we were wired and well connected, put it all down on technology and lost everything we invested.
You’re so pretty when you’re unfaithful to me!
Look at me, I can write a melody, but I can’t expect a soul to care…
Balancing, I need to keep it all in some perspective.
Come around…
Oh what the hell I’ll tell the story again.
It’s all one big blur of lights and action…
It’s as inevitable as the fall.
Left home virgins, came back vampires.
Got killed by 10 million pounds of sludge from New York and New Jersey.
And you might have once existed, and my memory’s been twisted.
Boys and girls in America have such a sad time together.
This is how the time goes, in an ordinary town.
The 411 in my area code has got no listing for me, and all my mail sits there in the post box, it seems I’ve lost the key.
Getting older makes it harder to remember we are our only saviors.
Your head will collapse if there’s nothing in it, and you’ll ask yourself ‘where is my mind?’
Stuck inside my head again, hoping that this never ends, I wouldn’t mind.
She said ‘I’ve laid beneath lovers but I’ve never gotten laid.’
Everything you make here hides behind the bones you wear.
You’re so pretty when you’re unfaithful to me!
Look at me, I can write a melody, but I can’t expect a soul to care…
Balancing, I need to keep it all in some perspective.
Come around…
Oh what the hell I’ll tell the story again.
It’s all one big blur of lights and action…
It’s as inevitable as the fall.
Left home virgins, came back vampires.
Got killed by 10 million pounds of sludge from New York and New Jersey.
And you might have once existed, and my memory’s been twisted.
Boys and girls in America have such a sad time together.
This is how the time goes, in an ordinary town.
The 411 in my area code has got no listing for me, and all my mail sits there in the post box, it seems I’ve lost the key.
Getting older makes it harder to remember we are our only saviors.
Your head will collapse if there’s nothing in it, and you’ll ask yourself ‘where is my mind?’
Stuck inside my head again, hoping that this never ends, I wouldn’t mind.
She said ‘I’ve laid beneath lovers but I’ve never gotten laid.’
Everything you make here hides behind the bones you wear.
3.09.2009
Solve for "Y"
Because isn't that really what we're always trying to figure out? Why?
I've been asked questions. I've asked myself questions. And, with questions, always comes doubt. Always comes the need for answers. How do I really feel? What do I really want?
Sometimes in my life, when I have ignored the questions, some really good things have happened. Sure, some bad things have happened too. But the whole idea is to live this life, rather than think my way into or out of the direction life chooses to go.
Someone recently told me, "thinking is good. Some people don't do it much." And yeah, that's true. But there's got to be a balance, too, of being spontaneous, of not giving a shit when that attitude isn't harming anything.
We don't always have to solve for Why, because sometimes the damn equation, and the damn answer, don't matter as much as question itself.
I've been asked questions. I've asked myself questions. And, with questions, always comes doubt. Always comes the need for answers. How do I really feel? What do I really want?
Sometimes in my life, when I have ignored the questions, some really good things have happened. Sure, some bad things have happened too. But the whole idea is to live this life, rather than think my way into or out of the direction life chooses to go.
Someone recently told me, "thinking is good. Some people don't do it much." And yeah, that's true. But there's got to be a balance, too, of being spontaneous, of not giving a shit when that attitude isn't harming anything.
We don't always have to solve for Why, because sometimes the damn equation, and the damn answer, don't matter as much as question itself.
3.05.2009
Say What You Mean To Say
What would I say to you if I could say anything to you today, with no consequences, with no reprisals, with no regrets or worries? It depends on who you are…
You? You are my best friend. I love you and wouldn’t be the man I am today without your friendship. We’ve been through a bit; we’ll go through a bit more. I always know I can count on you. More than anything, I am proud of you and proud to call you friend.
You? You are the best parents a person could ever hope for. The other part of who I am today? You’re responsible for that. I love you both immensely. I am so scared to lose you. Mortality faces us all I know. I hope I get married in time for you to enjoy it. Mostly, I just hope you know how much I love you and how wonderful you have been, all the years of my life.
You? Yeah, we’re still friends. You pissed me off. Give me time. You are a good person. We’re far too much alike, thus we understand each other. Be cool and be patient, and please don’t punch me for saying that.
You? You blew it. I’m not sweating it – really. But the answer is no, so don’t ever bother asking. You had your chance, and, in classic hockey-chant style, “YOU FUCKED UH-UP!”
You? There isn’t much to say, is there? Wes? Really? After all this time? You better than to start that with Cory I suppose… but damn. Four years is a long time to go through with people then completely disappear. Then again, five years is a long time to wait to reappear.
You? Here’s looking at you, kid.
You? You’re my freakin’ roommate, dude. You play WoW way too much sometimes. But I love you. I think you are going to be a great whatever the fuck you decide you’re gonna be. And I hope you remember me when it is time to write books. For now, let’s watch some Bebop.
You? Dude, Murphys. I am glad we’ve got that connection. You make work much more fun than it should be. I know this sucks; it ain’t no Cali. But come on – hopefully I make Indy a little more fun. Seriously though – thanks for being a great mentor. You’re self-made and I look up to you, and appreciate your advice.
You? Ah, yes, you. You are on my mind, more and more lately. This is such a strange time period for you, for us. I like you, a lot. I wonder how you feel about me. I am starting to feel like there is something to lose here, and that scares me. I’d miss you, and that scares me. There is so much more to learn about you. I want to take the next step, but I’m not sure what that is. I wonder if you want the same thing. Let’s see where it take us.
You? Who the hell are you? Get off my blog!
You? You are my best friend. I love you and wouldn’t be the man I am today without your friendship. We’ve been through a bit; we’ll go through a bit more. I always know I can count on you. More than anything, I am proud of you and proud to call you friend.
You? You are the best parents a person could ever hope for. The other part of who I am today? You’re responsible for that. I love you both immensely. I am so scared to lose you. Mortality faces us all I know. I hope I get married in time for you to enjoy it. Mostly, I just hope you know how much I love you and how wonderful you have been, all the years of my life.
You? Yeah, we’re still friends. You pissed me off. Give me time. You are a good person. We’re far too much alike, thus we understand each other. Be cool and be patient, and please don’t punch me for saying that.
You? You blew it. I’m not sweating it – really. But the answer is no, so don’t ever bother asking. You had your chance, and, in classic hockey-chant style, “YOU FUCKED UH-UP!”
You? There isn’t much to say, is there? Wes? Really? After all this time? You better than to start that with Cory I suppose… but damn. Four years is a long time to go through with people then completely disappear. Then again, five years is a long time to wait to reappear.
You? Here’s looking at you, kid.
You? You’re my freakin’ roommate, dude. You play WoW way too much sometimes. But I love you. I think you are going to be a great whatever the fuck you decide you’re gonna be. And I hope you remember me when it is time to write books. For now, let’s watch some Bebop.
You? Dude, Murphys. I am glad we’ve got that connection. You make work much more fun than it should be. I know this sucks; it ain’t no Cali. But come on – hopefully I make Indy a little more fun. Seriously though – thanks for being a great mentor. You’re self-made and I look up to you, and appreciate your advice.
You? Ah, yes, you. You are on my mind, more and more lately. This is such a strange time period for you, for us. I like you, a lot. I wonder how you feel about me. I am starting to feel like there is something to lose here, and that scares me. I’d miss you, and that scares me. There is so much more to learn about you. I want to take the next step, but I’m not sure what that is. I wonder if you want the same thing. Let’s see where it take us.
You? Who the hell are you? Get off my blog!
3.03.2009
Lump Sat Alone In A Boggy Marsh...
... Totally motionless except for her heart!
Interesting things abound.
Interesting things abound.
3.02.2009
Balancing Act
Waiting. It's a balancing act, measuring your desire versus your needs, desire versus time.
Time is on my side? Yes it is?
Maybe.
I'm happy. But want a little more?
I like it. I like where it is going. Just eager to see the next step, to round the next corner.
It's comfortable, though.
Time is on my side? Yes it is?
Maybe.
I'm happy. But want a little more?
I like it. I like where it is going. Just eager to see the next step, to round the next corner.
It's comfortable, though.
2.23.2009
Losing It
"You either lose your fear or live with one foot in the grave."
Of course, "once there was a way to get back homeward, once, there was a way to get back home."
It's all relative.
God, I can't wait to play guitar and sing tonight. It'll be the first time since ..., and the first time since ..., too. And that makes it cool as hell.
Hopefully I will be on tonight.
Of course, "once there was a way to get back homeward, once, there was a way to get back home."
It's all relative.
God, I can't wait to play guitar and sing tonight. It'll be the first time since ..., and the first time since ..., too. And that makes it cool as hell.
Hopefully I will be on tonight.
2.11.2009
Once, Upon a Time, I Could Lose Myself
Each day can really be a war.
I wonder if there's something wrong with my body, and if my aversion to going to the doctor is starting to get a little ridiculous. Thinking I can't get off this kick, whatever it is. I mean, I am not sick, but I am not well. Who knows.
Otherwise... each day.
My stress level and emotions have been through the meat grinder the last few weeks. Things are better now - not what I anticipated, but strangely better and getting better. There are good people in my life, and some new good people coming into my life, and the old stalwarts that I depend on and love.
And Music, of course, there through it all. Love it, love it, love it.
I'll take the varmint's path... but maybe I won't end up just like I began.
I wonder if there's something wrong with my body, and if my aversion to going to the doctor is starting to get a little ridiculous. Thinking I can't get off this kick, whatever it is. I mean, I am not sick, but I am not well. Who knows.
Otherwise... each day.
My stress level and emotions have been through the meat grinder the last few weeks. Things are better now - not what I anticipated, but strangely better and getting better. There are good people in my life, and some new good people coming into my life, and the old stalwarts that I depend on and love.
And Music, of course, there through it all. Love it, love it, love it.
I'll take the varmint's path... but maybe I won't end up just like I began.
1.26.2009
Fuel For The Feeding End - Coheed & Cambria
Why would you deny me answers?
If I’m just a boy on the break of being
Horror and hell through its fires
Be brutally honest, was it better before me?
In the curve of your body
How I want her with me
The truth of the story
The Vishual, I wish you all
The better end of all to come
The truth be now here one by one
I am to extend to none
The memory that fuels the fire...
...
Could this be that hard for me?
To configure the new love in vain
To my new entity or banish it home to the grave
I will not save… your world
If I’m just a boy on the break of being
Horror and hell through its fires
Be brutally honest, was it better before me?
In the curve of your body
How I want her with me
The truth of the story
The Vishual, I wish you all
The better end of all to come
The truth be now here one by one
I am to extend to none
The memory that fuels the fire...
...
Could this be that hard for me?
To configure the new love in vain
To my new entity or banish it home to the grave
I will not save… your world
Optimysticism
"This is a very important lesson. You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end - which you can never afford to lose - with discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be." -- Admiral James Stockdale.
Obviously, a war quote kind of seems out of place with what I am feeling... but the sentiment is good nonetheless.
Don't give up hope... but be realistic.
Edit: here's the whole bit I drew the quote above from.
"Optimism is a critical survival tool, but only when it's balanced with realism. This concept is known as the Stockdale Paradox, named after Admiral James Stockdale, the highest-ranking American prisoner of war in Vietnam. The idea was popularized by author Jim Collins in his best-selling book Good to Great. When Collins asked Stockdale to explain which American prisoners did not survive captivity in Vietnam, the admiral replied, 'Oh, that's easy. The optimists.' Collins was perplexed, but Stockdale explained that the optimists 'were the ones who said 'we're going to be out by Christmas.' And Christmas would come, and Christmas would go; and then Thanksgiving, and then it would be Christmas again. And they died of a broken heart.' Stockdale went on: 'This is a very important lesson. You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end - which you can never afford to lose - with discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be.'"
From NYTimes "Freakonomics" Blog.
Obviously, a war quote kind of seems out of place with what I am feeling... but the sentiment is good nonetheless.
Don't give up hope... but be realistic.
Edit: here's the whole bit I drew the quote above from.
"Optimism is a critical survival tool, but only when it's balanced with realism. This concept is known as the Stockdale Paradox, named after Admiral James Stockdale, the highest-ranking American prisoner of war in Vietnam. The idea was popularized by author Jim Collins in his best-selling book Good to Great. When Collins asked Stockdale to explain which American prisoners did not survive captivity in Vietnam, the admiral replied, 'Oh, that's easy. The optimists.' Collins was perplexed, but Stockdale explained that the optimists 'were the ones who said 'we're going to be out by Christmas.' And Christmas would come, and Christmas would go; and then Thanksgiving, and then it would be Christmas again. And they died of a broken heart.' Stockdale went on: 'This is a very important lesson. You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end - which you can never afford to lose - with discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be.'"
From NYTimes "Freakonomics" Blog.
1.21.2009
Love is a Surrender
So the good times are gone. Once more I stand here with a wreck of a heart, wondering, hoping, but broken just the same.
My mind is spinning with every "win her back" idea I can think of... flowers, hugs, letters, any way I can spend time with her, any way I could show her how I feel. But all of that is meaningless at this point - not meaningless, but pointless. She knows how I feel. She doesn't know how she feels, or rather, doesn't know if she's ready to feel more.
Sure, I understand. It fucking hurts. It always does. But I understand.
My heart and my head, and my very soul, are in total upheaval. I wanted a battle to fight, but this wasn't what i was hoping for. How can I fight this way? It certainly doesn't feel like I am fighting for her.
Time is the great equalizer they say. Time heals all wounds - but that never is sweet when you hear it, when you're the one hurting. Because, after all, time just kills us all.
My tears, my anxieties, my pain won't fix this. My love, my giving-of-self, my sacrifice, my passion... it cannot fix this. Like every time... it's not in my hands. I have climbed the mountain, only to reach down for her hand...
It's up to her to grab it.
In my little book, my little Love devotional that I read every so often, had this to say, on this day:
Love is not a negotiation. It is a surrender. An absolute surrender... a total giving, an absolute submission of my absolute self. I entrust my soul to something I do not fully understand... and there is no middle ground, no margin of compromise. Love is where forever keeps itself.
Now... if only she could open her eyes... and see.
My mind is spinning with every "win her back" idea I can think of... flowers, hugs, letters, any way I can spend time with her, any way I could show her how I feel. But all of that is meaningless at this point - not meaningless, but pointless. She knows how I feel. She doesn't know how she feels, or rather, doesn't know if she's ready to feel more.
Sure, I understand. It fucking hurts. It always does. But I understand.
My heart and my head, and my very soul, are in total upheaval. I wanted a battle to fight, but this wasn't what i was hoping for. How can I fight this way? It certainly doesn't feel like I am fighting for her.
Time is the great equalizer they say. Time heals all wounds - but that never is sweet when you hear it, when you're the one hurting. Because, after all, time just kills us all.
My tears, my anxieties, my pain won't fix this. My love, my giving-of-self, my sacrifice, my passion... it cannot fix this. Like every time... it's not in my hands. I have climbed the mountain, only to reach down for her hand...
It's up to her to grab it.
In my little book, my little Love devotional that I read every so often, had this to say, on this day:
Love is not a negotiation. It is a surrender. An absolute surrender... a total giving, an absolute submission of my absolute self. I entrust my soul to something I do not fully understand... and there is no middle ground, no margin of compromise. Love is where forever keeps itself.
Now... if only she could open her eyes... and see.
1.16.2009
Praise
So... I've been in my books and my devotions and dare I say even the Bible lately, looking for answers, fighting demons, trying to make my way in this world and in the sticky situation I am.
I read something today in my devotional that just hit my in the chest (a lot of messages hitting me dead on lately...): that sometimes, it's better to just say thanks than to ask anything.
If it weren't for Rach, and to a lesser but still important extent, Kyle, I'd be going insane this week. Completely insane. So thanks. Thanks for keeping me grounded, reminding me what is important, and helping me to hope and to fight, to not quit.
God... thanks. Thanks so much for everything, every opportunity, every friend, every detour, every breath.
I couldn't do this without these wonderful people in my life.
Thanks most of all for allowing me to rediscover faith, hope and love... and yes, most of all love.
I have so many things to pray for, so many things to ask for, but for now... thank you so much for the wonderful blessing you have showered my life with. Even when I am not looking, you are still faithful. And though I may not always get what I want or what I think I need, you are still faithful. So thanks.
I read something today in my devotional that just hit my in the chest (a lot of messages hitting me dead on lately...): that sometimes, it's better to just say thanks than to ask anything.
If it weren't for Rach, and to a lesser but still important extent, Kyle, I'd be going insane this week. Completely insane. So thanks. Thanks for keeping me grounded, reminding me what is important, and helping me to hope and to fight, to not quit.
God... thanks. Thanks so much for everything, every opportunity, every friend, every detour, every breath.
I couldn't do this without these wonderful people in my life.
Thanks most of all for allowing me to rediscover faith, hope and love... and yes, most of all love.
I have so many things to pray for, so many things to ask for, but for now... thank you so much for the wonderful blessing you have showered my life with. Even when I am not looking, you are still faithful. And though I may not always get what I want or what I think I need, you are still faithful. So thanks.
1.09.2009
Music, Guitar, Dylan Sneed, Love, God... and Me
A few weeks back I quoted a Dylan Sneed song, "What I Thought." Today, I listened to it again. I can't say how amazingly happy and excited I am to play a show with this singer/songwriter from Texas. I haven't anticipated something like this in a long while. The man's writing is fantastic.
Below is another sampling, from that same song. It hit me particularly hard this morning, for obvious reasons to those who know me and know what is going on right now. But beyond love and life and all it's joys and ups and downs and changes and etc., this guy can write. I am so looking forward to January 19th.
I knew you were pretty, you seemed kind of smart
But I just wasn't ready for the shape of your heart
Well charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting
But when I talk to you, girl I can feel my heart beating
You're not who I thought you'd be
You're just who you are
And the wise and the fool agree
That you've got a fire in your heart
That's what I've been looking for
And that's what I've found
So I'm ready to start feeling
My feet leave the ground
Below is another sampling, from that same song. It hit me particularly hard this morning, for obvious reasons to those who know me and know what is going on right now. But beyond love and life and all it's joys and ups and downs and changes and etc., this guy can write. I am so looking forward to January 19th.
I knew you were pretty, you seemed kind of smart
But I just wasn't ready for the shape of your heart
Well charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting
But when I talk to you, girl I can feel my heart beating
You're not who I thought you'd be
You're just who you are
And the wise and the fool agree
That you've got a fire in your heart
That's what I've been looking for
And that's what I've found
So I'm ready to start feeling
My feet leave the ground
1.07.2009
We'll Keep Marching To The Top Of This Tower/ Love Is A Tower
A good friend recently discussed the balance of good versus evil on her blog (thanks for the insight Rach - good post), and the got me thinking. A lot of what she discussed had to do with choice. And choice can be a bitch, let me tell you.
I know my own heart, and I know I struggle with certain things. I want so bad to find what I have sought out that, when it comes close, my heart wars with my mind - chivalry, love, goodness versus self-doubt, jealousy, worrying. The good in me wars with the bad. And I have to choose which voice to listen to, the heart that wants to be free or the head that knows we've been down this path before, and left a broken man.
I am not a broken man. But... sometimes I can't help thinking there's a little Roland of Gilead in me, the Gunslinger. I've joked, and been serious, too, before about slinging lead in my songs. More than that, though, is the one-mindedness, the determination to see the tower, to climb to the top and conquer whatever is there.
And thanks to my boys in Pearl Jam, I get the reminder that Love is a Tower.
So, am I Roland, pursuing that which is forever seemingly out of my grasp, in the distance and dying as I march on, my Tower of Love? And, for those who have finished the Dark Tower books... have I been like Roland in other ways? In the beginning? At the end, if and when he finally gets his tower? In the early years, with Susan?
There is nothing wrong. Everything, or damn near, is right. I just hope I can fight my head, and conquer the tower of Self-Doubt, so I can storm the Tower of Love, and claim that elusive son of a bitch as my own. As someone who's involved said recently, it's about time. For her and me both.
Now then, with that out of the way... if Roland is all impulse, but slow-witted in the books - more mathematical than imaginative, more stoic than romantic (though very romantic in his own ways), is there a way to escape his curse? I have no desire to live for the chase... even though life is about the journey and not the destination, this should be but the next (albeit big) step on that wonderful walk/run/crawl/leap.
All this is just philosphical psycho-babble... my musings on a busy but boring Wednesday afternoon. Things are going well and easy. I just don't want to hold on too fast or too much, too soon, too hard, too loose, too little, too etc, too etc, too etc.
I just want to take this one to the top of the Tower (the Love one, not the others), and finally get - and SHARE - my passionate love affair.
So God, if you ARE at the top of that Tower? Throw me the key, man. She's earned it and maybe I have too.
I know my own heart, and I know I struggle with certain things. I want so bad to find what I have sought out that, when it comes close, my heart wars with my mind - chivalry, love, goodness versus self-doubt, jealousy, worrying. The good in me wars with the bad. And I have to choose which voice to listen to, the heart that wants to be free or the head that knows we've been down this path before, and left a broken man.
I am not a broken man. But... sometimes I can't help thinking there's a little Roland of Gilead in me, the Gunslinger. I've joked, and been serious, too, before about slinging lead in my songs. More than that, though, is the one-mindedness, the determination to see the tower, to climb to the top and conquer whatever is there.
And thanks to my boys in Pearl Jam, I get the reminder that Love is a Tower.
So, am I Roland, pursuing that which is forever seemingly out of my grasp, in the distance and dying as I march on, my Tower of Love? And, for those who have finished the Dark Tower books... have I been like Roland in other ways? In the beginning? At the end, if and when he finally gets his tower? In the early years, with Susan?
There is nothing wrong. Everything, or damn near, is right. I just hope I can fight my head, and conquer the tower of Self-Doubt, so I can storm the Tower of Love, and claim that elusive son of a bitch as my own. As someone who's involved said recently, it's about time. For her and me both.
Now then, with that out of the way... if Roland is all impulse, but slow-witted in the books - more mathematical than imaginative, more stoic than romantic (though very romantic in his own ways), is there a way to escape his curse? I have no desire to live for the chase... even though life is about the journey and not the destination, this should be but the next (albeit big) step on that wonderful walk/run/crawl/leap.
All this is just philosphical psycho-babble... my musings on a busy but boring Wednesday afternoon. Things are going well and easy. I just don't want to hold on too fast or too much, too soon, too hard, too loose, too little, too etc, too etc, too etc.
I just want to take this one to the top of the Tower (the Love one, not the others), and finally get - and SHARE - my passionate love affair.
So God, if you ARE at the top of that Tower? Throw me the key, man. She's earned it and maybe I have too.
I'm Amazed
Yeesh! I know this isn't a "real" entry, but it's what you get. Things are going well. I am scared to death. And through it all... I have hope. And that is a good thing.
I'm amazed in the quiet ocean
I'm amazed at your wrong devotion
I'm amazed at what the people saying
I'm amazed by a divided nation
Like the middle of the earth
I get disrupted
I'm amazed at all that has been
I'm amazed at all who be
I'm amazed at the TV stations
I'm amazed what they want me to believe
After all is said and done
Will we seek justice
I'm amazed at the evolution
I'm amazed at the lack of fame
I'm amazed at the love we're rejecting
I'm amazed that we accepted this place
Like the middle of the earth and the middle of the ages
Like a river I get disrupted
I'm amazed
I'm amazed
I'm amazed
I'm amazed in the quiet ocean
I'm amazed at your wrong devotion
I'm amazed at what the people saying
I'm amazed by a divided nation
Like the middle of the earth
I get disrupted
I'm amazed at all that has been
I'm amazed at all who be
I'm amazed at the TV stations
I'm amazed what they want me to believe
After all is said and done
Will we seek justice
I'm amazed at the evolution
I'm amazed at the lack of fame
I'm amazed at the love we're rejecting
I'm amazed that we accepted this place
Like the middle of the earth and the middle of the ages
Like a river I get disrupted
I'm amazed
I'm amazed
I'm amazed
1.06.2009
Don't Wait
This one goes out to Cory. Who loves Dashboard Confessional/ deserves to be on the cover of Tiger Beat. Or something like that. Anyway, pertinent to my last post...
The sky glows
I see it shining when my eyes close
I hear your warnings but we both know
I'm gonna look at it again
Don't wait, Don't wait
The road is now a sudden sea
And suddenly, you're deep enough
To lay your armor down
To lay your armor down
To lay your armor down
You get one look
I'll show you something that the knife took
A bit too early for my own good
Now let's not speak of it again
Don't wait, Don't wait
The road is now a sudden sea
And suddenly, you're deep enough
To lay your armor down
To lay your armor down
To lay your armor down
Don't wait, Don't wait
The lights will flash and fade away
The days will pass you by
Don't wait
To lay your armor down...
The sky glows
I see it shining when my eyes close
I hear your warnings but we both know
I'm gonna look at it again
Don't wait, Don't wait
The road is now a sudden sea
And suddenly, you're deep enough
To lay your armor down
To lay your armor down
To lay your armor down
You get one look
I'll show you something that the knife took
A bit too early for my own good
Now let's not speak of it again
Don't wait, Don't wait
The road is now a sudden sea
And suddenly, you're deep enough
To lay your armor down
To lay your armor down
To lay your armor down
Don't wait, Don't wait
The lights will flash and fade away
The days will pass you by
Don't wait
To lay your armor down...
Don't Let It Take The Fight Outta You
Sometimes, it isn't as easy as it looks. I can't say it's not as great as it sounds... but it isn't easy. It takes time, patience, honesty, openness, more patience, and quite a bit of giving of one's self.
As much as I love the feeling of it, I won't lie - part of it is also like being sliced open, butterflied, exposed. No one likes to be exposed, not like that. Inside there are things wonderful, but there are also things not-so-wonderful. We've got our skeletons in this closet, and our insecurities, in this one, here.
"Opening is not easy," I wrote in "Reflections." While that tune is more about being spiritually lost, the point I am trying to make is sound - that opening up, at any time and in any way, is tough. It's not easy to lay yourself out there - whether it's to the mirror, to god, to a friend or a loved one, or someone special.
One of my own personal relfections has always been how cyclical life can be (yes, like a cycle, or a circle... not cynical, which you could at times accuse me of... this is not one of those times). It's not always easy, and it's not always meant to be easy. Sometimes it is hard, tough, sucks, and is downright shitty. Sometimes it's lonely.
And sometimes it is not. The ups and downs, though, are what make us who we are. And I have seen both. I've got skeletons here and there. And I've got a trophy room, too.
Showing someone your insides isn't always easy. But neither is having someone to show your insides too.
Ben Harper said it best: "don't let it take the fight outta you." The wheel's gonna keep on turnin'... it's our job to keep on going with the flow, ride the ups and downs, learn from it all, and make our life one to remember.
As much as I love the feeling of it, I won't lie - part of it is also like being sliced open, butterflied, exposed. No one likes to be exposed, not like that. Inside there are things wonderful, but there are also things not-so-wonderful. We've got our skeletons in this closet, and our insecurities, in this one, here.
"Opening is not easy," I wrote in "Reflections." While that tune is more about being spiritually lost, the point I am trying to make is sound - that opening up, at any time and in any way, is tough. It's not easy to lay yourself out there - whether it's to the mirror, to god, to a friend or a loved one, or someone special.
One of my own personal relfections has always been how cyclical life can be (yes, like a cycle, or a circle... not cynical, which you could at times accuse me of... this is not one of those times). It's not always easy, and it's not always meant to be easy. Sometimes it is hard, tough, sucks, and is downright shitty. Sometimes it's lonely.
And sometimes it is not. The ups and downs, though, are what make us who we are. And I have seen both. I've got skeletons here and there. And I've got a trophy room, too.
Showing someone your insides isn't always easy. But neither is having someone to show your insides too.
Ben Harper said it best: "don't let it take the fight outta you." The wheel's gonna keep on turnin'... it's our job to keep on going with the flow, ride the ups and downs, learn from it all, and make our life one to remember.
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