Changes

In this modern age, very little remains that is real. Night has been banished, so have the cold, the wind and the stars. They have all been neutralized: the rhythm of life itself is obscured. Everything goes so fast and makes so much noise, and men hurry by without heeding the grass by the roadside, its colour, its smell and the way it shimmers when the wind caresses it. What a strange encounter then is that between man and the high places of his planet! Up there he is surrounded by the silence of forgetfulness. If there is a slope of snow steep as a glass window, he climbs it, leaving behind him a strange trail. If there is a rock perfect as an obelisk, he defies gravity and proves that he can get up anywhere. - Starlight and Storm by Gaston Rébuffat

Because here in the depths of seeing so much destruction, we may lose ourselves. Let us be not who society wants us to be, but people with the talents and gifts passed down from one generation to the next.

Behind these eyes, I possess great talent. Only fear will stop me from going further. But as my brother would say, "We're only here for a moment. Then we die. No one gets out alive."

So really, what's there to fear. We all die. Why not push it a bit? Live a bit more free. For once, I am being selfish. I am going to grab the things most important to me - no matter the cost. I am going to hold her again. I am going to make some money. I am going to gain a sound foundation by any means necessary. I have been on the brink of survival for too long. I will use my brain for my own means. Then, I shall help others. Once I have gained a foothold.

Let me be bound by my own existence. Not others' shallow perception of it. I will live life by my rules. I shall be only bound by my imagination.

Ace in the Hole

"OK. You're next Brian. Campfire, five minutes," he said.

An aged man, nearly 50 - white hair, round face, beer belly - squeezed his palm around the bottle. The cap fell to the ground. Tonight, he said to himself, I'm going to save that boy. I'm going to bring him back from the brink. His mother robbed him from a life with his family. Damn ... She's crazy, he thought. As he walked out the side door of the cabin, he saw the boy next to the fire.

"You bring a beer out here for me?" the boy said as the man drew near the fire.

"Hell, boy, give me a second," the man said.

He trudged inside, down the steps to the downstairs fridge.

What in the hell would this boy like? Corona! Of course, he would. Who wouldn't like to be reminded of the beach on a night like this?

His eyes fell on the bottle opener as he reached for the door. Hell. I could do better than that.

He peeled the door back. His eyes fell on the boy. That kid must be so damn lonely. Damn boy is just like me. I can see so much of myself in him.

He handed the beer to the boy.

"You got a bottle opener?" the boy asked.

"Yeah, give it here." The man walked over to his truck and used the metallic clip on the end of the seat belt to open the beer.

"Wow. Pretty impressive," the boy said.

"Yeah. Now what is it that you wanted to talk about?"

"Oh. It was nothing. Rather just have the beer now."

"I really appreciate what you did back there, boy," the man said. "You had a lot of balls coming up to me like that. I'm the man who takes people down that gravel road. No one takes Acen down that gravel road.

"And, boy, you wanted to take me down that gravel road. That took a lot. You're a real cool kid," he said.

"We all need to take the walk sometimes," the boy said.

The boy stared into the fire. He could hear the old man talking again. His mind trailed off into the flames. What did his daughter ask me? She wanted advice about a similar situation. But, I couldn't get a word in edgewise. What a jackass! Talking to his daughter like that. What the fuck am I doing here?

"Let me tell you a story about your brother," the old man started. "You're brother is a badass. One time, I said, 'Show me how you kill someone. I want to feel that.' Your brother said he couldn't do it. But I got on him and a few beers later, he put me to the ground. And as the lights began fading, he let go."

"There's nothing but loneliness in this world. No matter what beautiful woman you put at your side. Either you or she is going to die first." The old man went on, "And before that, no matter who's with us, there's loneliness."

"We all die alone," the boy agreed.

The man told the boy that he was in the business of saving people. He, at one time, had taken every one down that gravel path. He said, he would soon take the boy.

"I saved your brother, you know," the man said.

"I know," the boy said. "I'm thankful for that."

"Hell, boy. I'll save you too," he said.

His daughter sat there crying after he butted into our conversation, the boy thought. She just wanted my opinion. He made it into a joke then feigned emotion as she cried running into the house. "Stay away from me," she yelled. "You're nothing but a drunk."

The next words fell like an avalanche.

"I don't need saving," the boy said.

The boy rubbed his hands against the side of the beer catching the sweat from the glass. He looked up into the moon. It lit up a few wispy clouds. Otherwise, all the world was stars. Damn, such beauty.

"Damn, you're a smart boy," the man said.

"Huh? Well I don't know about that."

"No. You are. You're a damn smart boy."

Be careful, the boy thought. I'll only pity you more for what you say next.

Perspective

I really do not want to walk away from this position. It's taken me so long to get to this point.

And now as I pull away, my finances in disarray, I cower in inaction afraid of a pattern developing. On one hand, I fear that this fear will persuade me to become like so many others, only striving to make that next dollar, no matter the destruction or exploitation I may cause. On the other, I fear that I will never make decisions, never make money, never make anything out of myself and will fall into a solid state of failure. I have seen so many people who fit into this category during my travels. I have no desire for this to be my life.

I know I am very, very low on hope right now. I need some encouragement. I need a boost. This is why I've decided to move in with my brother. I have no other place to go, but I need someone who gets me. Someone who understands where this drive comes from. It isn't something that I have manifested. It is something forever constant buried within my soul. It is a driving force that compels me to do more, live life fuller, to learn more, to dive deeper into any and all situations. This force goes wild at the emptiness of boredom or shallow thoughts and feelings. I've had it ever since I can remember.

This is the first time I've ever written such a telling post on here. But these are tough times. I spent a few hours in the office, trying to catch up on work. I organized my desk, sent some files, reviewed the lack of evidence in one of my cases, so frustrating! And yet the guy who came before me is praised, but he really did let a lot go. I guess it's all in show.

I hope everything works out. The future is so bewildering to even ponder now.

A run may not save me this time.

I have come to not like myself. I am inactive as of late. I am overwhelmed and unhappy.

I am a failure.

This world is so flawed. Yet that is no excuse for my unhappiness.

Where did my energy go?! Where is my inspiration?! As tears streak down my cheeks dropping into the keyboard, it serves as a sweet release from all this hidden pain. I thought I could do it all on my own.

What happened to me?! I cannot feel any longing, any desperation, anything at all? I just feel fear. I wanted to finish this! Is this how life will always be?!

If hope is the single greatest commodity given to mankind, then what shall I do as the last ounce dribbles from my soul?

The walls of my life are crumbling.

Turbulent days

One cannot base his future on luck.

I have been a bit complacent as of late. Dragging my feet if you will. Yet I know my pace. I want it back!

I have to be systematic and deliberate in my actions. I, however, feel the pace returning. I am running longer, devoid of caffeine. And I find myself generally a bit goofier than I have been in a very long time.

It is as if I am saying hello to an old friend whom I have missed - my true self.

I exist.

"I don't care to succeed if I cannot be myself! How dare I shackle myself to my own ambitions, and care so much of how others look at me!" I shouted.



Tonight, I'm tired. I spent some time talking to this girl on the phone last night. We used to really care about each other. Yet now it is just one of those things. One of those situations where no one is sure where he/she stands. One day, she has the lowest opinion of me, not sorry for anything that happened. At these times, she lets me know how low I am. And at others, she tells me how important I am to her, how cherished of a friend I am, how she needs to talk to me. It's all very confusing.

Yet it doesn't matter. I'm caught in the act of just existing. Life is just a reason to feel, to breathe, to be. I'm tired of wishing it could have all been different.

I just want to live.

Why lie to myself?

I fear I have fallen into an escapist attitude. The night with the girl was nothing more than a distraction against all of the problems in my life.

Yes. Poverty is a bitch. Nevertheless, I must act swiftly for I fear I shall fall into the same pattern as the people I help. The first step is realization. The second shall be action.

Today I reclaim myself. No more lies. No more distractions. Nothing that takes me a step away from the reality of my situation. I shall write a more poetic prose or love the girl when my soul can bear the pressure.

I must be strong and cold.

I met you in afternoon air sitting by the cafe.

I sat underneath the brambles with you, softly touching your neck while I grazed my lips to yours. And while I held you in your long skirt, I slid my hand softly against your smooth flesh and lost myself in your dark beauty. Unknowing of how the days following will go, I was forced to think of the situation as one day, one moment without chance of another. The moment, therefore, was a great deal more.

I went to the party shivering in my wet clothes. The pond felt warm in the moment. Afterward, the night air robbed me of my energy forcing me into a shiver.

And I think this could be great.

Nevertheless, I am sadly realistic.

Today I go on a run and try to force on my mind a Zen image of the moment. One time. One instance. One second followed by another. This way it will be beautiful even when we find our true paths.

This is a crazy world for a hopeless romantic fool such as I.

The product of Sitara's meat loaf.

Last night, with a garlic-onion-basil-all spice-sausage-beef flavored concoction in my stomach, I dreamt of one who would run after me.

The dream so vivid, I awoke infatuated with the thought. Yet I could not recall the face. She believed in something and in me. And that we could face the world with a ferocity of never backing down, of simple pleasures and poetic souls.

And I awoke. Sufjan played on the radio.

~ I sat by a little stream last evening. The night was filled with bull frogs ribbits and locust grrks. I studied for the test that would not define me. And it was a fine reason to pull myself away from all this.

Though ...

I am glad I could truly escape in one dream of what the world could be again.

Discipline

Self-Discipline.

A not old, but mostly forgotten concept in my life.

The wonders of my mind materialize in an active motion. My room, tidier. My body, fitter. My mind, sharper.

I need it right now. A big test looms. It sits before me on the horizon as any challenge might. It is a daunting example many before me have faced on a less dramatic level.

But what else do I have?

I am living in poverty with so many ambitions, so many ideals. I have given up romances, friendships, aesthetics and my home for this passion.

Because! People are people. And no one should suffer in this system! Everyone has a right to feel hopeful and alive. So I must read and cultivate myself until I can actually help those people. I hope I do not sell out and give my soul to some mission to hoard resources and money. I hope my children know what it is to live life for the smallest things, never cowering behind a dogma.

And for this, I must have discipline.

Nothing ever proven.

Life is a constant state of flux.

So are people.

Yet, I believe for all the random, crazy encounters for which I yearn ... I dream of a constant. Amy once said she couldn't be with me because I was like a wild horse, just running free. I don't know if that's true. The more people I meet, the more I think we are all the same. Yet some of us are afraid.

Fear can be a puzzling thing, and I have found myself more and more wrapped up in it since I graduated college. I have waited for this trial-by-fire, but I have come to think it may be this whole time period: the misspent time with love, financial hardship, family problems, physical problems and even work-related issues verging on craziness. It has been a time away from the arena I call home, and a period of my life away from what I really want to do.

So much that at times I have felt mighty lost.

So I find myself running every morning ... running towards something ... towards what?!

I don't know.

Just the unknown, I guess.

Desperation

What burden! What drain! are the stresses of poverty. Three days until my birthday, and I watch as people once close drift further and further away. I am alienating myself and becoming a person none would like to befriend.

So here I am, in my office, three days before my birthday. My mind is flooded with problems. And yet I know everything else is slowly falling away. Is this the path of law? Is this how the rest of my life will go if I pursue this field? I am perplexed and unsatisfied.

Somehow I will watch it all crumble as a spectator. I will watch and think, what a beautiful life this is that has come to ruin.

I remember when I would take off my shoes and walk through a field only thinking of how I might create some prose to describe the moment and scene. I remember long horseback rides, and all the simplicities and dreams of life that burned within. I remember not being so caught up and so fixated and so bumbling. I remember the confidence of climbing, the confidence of the classroom. I remember the days when I felt I wouldn't have to beg forever.


This is my penalty for a life too examined, a life with not enough action.

Abandon city nights.

Life can be as beautiful as one makes it!
This is why I try to surround myself with an aesthetic beauty that will help characterize my soul. These mountains were the energy of my youth. But for now, I must find my strength in the words of Camus who in the midst of winter, found within his soul an eternal summer.

A rant on socio-economic America!

It is with menacing messages that most letters reach my inbox nowadays. Whether it comes from ex-lovers, educational loans, missing car payments and/or the occasional lost promise turned obligation, it is the same.

Yet, I must sort through all of this. This is not for me. It is something within which I am contained. It is a product of a system that pushes some people down. It forces the population to work and work and never really understand why ... Why? For more stuff and less time with family. As we watch our families grow distant, as we work harder for respected positions in our society we let those loved ones who take up too much time go? Why?

The working class knows something is wrong. I believe they can feel it. I hear about it a lot when I am here around my family, but they feel powerless. There are anchored systems founded by the social elite. When a woman - who has reached a high level of understanding of a problem- reaches the podium, a little message streaks across the screen telling exactly how much people should listen. If it says a certain institution or a certain title, people listen. If it says something else, well we turn off. She is not for making decisions we say ...

I would like to see a policy maker with no Ivy League background, but a solid background in a field and a solid understanding of the people. Maybe there are people out there, but it seems like so many problems are ignored at the cost of fame or glory of holding office. This is just turning so ridiculous. So many people have great ideas out there, and we give our representation to people who have difficulty understanding even the simplest of these changes. It is time for new leadership and a change. It is not time for a President (no matter how great his speech may be) to sit idly by making promises and compromises. It is time for a leader to walk down the hard road America needs.

Nothing better.

Bryant, me, Thaddeus, Danielle, and Ted (also not shown here is Eric who is underneath Thaddeus and me.) haha.

the silence

In such an individualistic society and with little money, I have grown to be very passive.

Why should I complain? I catch myself saying, I am lucky to be alive. But by lowering myself with these passive gestures, I let myself fall prey to the insecurities and selfish needs of others. Time and time again, I find myself victim of these same circumstances. Each time I vow it will never happen again. But here I am a victim to insults, a casualty to others fingers rifling through my belongings and an unwelcome guest in my own residence.

I cannot complain about too much right now. I somewhat fear this may spiral into a homeless situation. If so, I fear I will not be able to fulfill my VISTA contract. I am also curious about the logistics of my staying here in Chicago. I wish the government could know what it is like to be uber poor and no place to go after a year of service.


This will be a fine day. I am sure it will. The weather is perfect. I am seeing a beautiful woman tonight. All the world is an adventure and I really do not need much to have a good time.

Yet would it not be grand to end this viscous cyle once and for all.

Ambrosia Hookah bar BYOB

<-- Eric, Stef and I at Hookah Bar.

I took some legal courses with Stef. She is going to make a fine attorney some day.

A little time in Chicago.

My hand tightens as does hers. Together we walk past a danger that isn't really a danger in a world to which I have never truly been exposed. And I notice that I am walking with someone who will go against the dangers to greet and meet this world. She will invite me to challenge my schemas. Already, she is winning.

Those were my thoughts Thursday night as we walked.

In this city, my paths are paved in concrete, but trees are abundant. And I can still smell the sweet taste of soil after a rain. I still feel lonely when I watch the sun set behind buildings instead of on the horizon. I feel pain when I notice no one looks up into passing eyes as people pass on the sidewalk. However, I find myself smiling when I see the children dancing in the park on my way home. And I love bicycling through the city.

So I am mixed about this city. I know what I am missing. Yet I know what I gain.

If there were nearby climbing, I think I could stay a lifetime. As for right now, I am looking to stay just a little while.

I will some day find my road out West, maybe just another day.

Hawai'i

10 hours from Chicago to Honolulu.

Walking to the airport, walking away from an attitude of apathy and fakeness.

I met many awesome people while in Jacksonville, but it came too little, too late. I became tired of the can't do attitude of my supervisor and lack of committment to the some very worthwhile programs, the once-girlfriend who cheated on me with some pretty boy with an arrogant attitude and fake smile and an environment more inducive to cars and televisions than society and activity.

I walked from rural America to an airport, landed in a tropical paradise where I spent time with my brother, sea kayaked, rock climbed, swam in the ocean and snorkeled ... then settled in Chicago where I've already been robbed.

I now ride my bike down busy streets, dodging cars and car doors. My budget has never been so dire and my outlook has never been more mysterious. But I am working with some great programs staffed by great people at a great school. I live with some righteous hippies who are well educated and easy going. My life is changing.

I couldn't think of a better starting point to flip my life on its head and turn it all around than Hawai'i.

All I need now are the climbers and climbing ... and a plan. But what the hell! I finally feel as if all will fall into place.

Even a puddle can be beautiful ... if it has enough salt ;-)

I traveled to southern Illinois this weekend with a friend. We camped near a raging waterfall during the first night.

The night hummed with the waterfall's constant roar. And in the void of the night a persistent drizzle aligned with a darkness in my soul. It questioned my very essence, my strength, my decisions. And as the darkness set in, I found no need to lie anymore. I could just say it and be secure and just


Let Go of Life.

I have found a place to stay in Chicago. They sound like my kind of people. I will never give up on the reasons I do things. I will not succumb to the naysayers or the politics of looking good while not doing much. That is not my way. I will succeed. I will attain the education I need, and the life I want.

I will empathize and will help people. I cannot let myself be scared by the insecurities that come with this life. I will relish them.

Rewaken

A slow consistent force slithered around my legs, up my torso and soon held me at my shoulders. I was too blind to see it and too numb to feel it. But it had me. It tensed, and I succumbed.

It came at my ankles as an injury forced me into sloth. It slithered around my legs as my vast attempts at friendship here were foiled. It gripped my chest as her friendship fled voiding our relationship. It tensed as I saw reality while in the serpent's grip.

I have conquered this beast as an oak awakens from a lazy winter, sleepy and slow but with the steady hope of a guaranteed summer. Push-ups have given me strength. Climbing has renewed my character. Books have helped to sharpen what has come a docile mind. My heart lay in tatters, a soft spongy mess strewn about the dirty floor.

I will leave Jacksonville in May and will arrive in Chicago. I have no delusions about Chicago or plans. I don't even have a place to stay. But that is the path I have chosen as I try this renaissance of my old self. These words are some of the first that have rung truly from me. With these words, I redefine my character, my self will ... my self discipline.

TBD

A crimson piece of metallic wire twists and stretches in my hand. The bright and dark reflections of light shimmer from its smooth edges. They dance in my mind. I have guilty thoughts on this day.

I know what I must do. Yet, it is in these lulls of activity, my mind fires faster with longing. It re-creates feelings and memories. It lets go of past pain. It lets go of any obstacles I may have encountered. Instead, it focuses on the sweetness of it all. Bittersweet nostalgia.

I would rather not live my life like this ... always somewhere else. So I try to live here. In the time I've been here, I've gained three friends, lost one. I haven't been so secluded since my adolescent days. At least then, I had family.

This week, I try my hands at getting into the M.E.S. program at Evergreen State in Olympia, Wash. My admittance or denial will not afford me any luxury more than hope or despair.

If I had taken the West for granted, I hope I never will again.

The journey beyond what exactly ... ?

Here I am.
And I am moving forward.
To where?
Anywhere.
So long as I am moving.

Back from two weeks in WA

I remember being here in central Illinois for three months during college.

I would open my eyes in the morning. Lay there, eyes open, wonder what I was doing to myself ...
why would I put myself through this ...
was it worth it ...
had I failed ...
am I a failure ...
had I let my father down ...
why did I leave Florida ...

Sixty degree days gradual warming to seventy-five degree days.

I often found myself in the park, running. I ran nearly 10 miles a day then. I would run and run until I could barely walk, my legs were JELLO. I escaped into an idea of love, and felt dejected as she called to tell me of all the other men. She would tell me of how evil I was. Even if my legs were JELLO, I would soon find myself running again.

Somewhere in the back of my mind ... I have made this my experience of Illinois.

YET!

Why do we have new emotions, new thoughts, new brain cells (not one cell in my body is the same) if we must dwell and make the past our present. I am not nearly the same man. I have had so many crazy times since then!

I must finish this position into July, and I must make something out of it even if it means revamping my thought process, pretending I am in a tropical paradise or some golden future awaits me at the end.

I must cultivate my garden.

A rant on genes.

My face resembles my ancestors. My thoughts and feelings use some of the same synapses, conduits and processes. As genes flow down from one generation to the next, I carry some of the same gifts, some of the same afflictions.

Yet I know nothing about my ancestors ...

I do not know if they succumbed to their afflictions, living a life of poverty while the world went on around them. Or did they aspire with their gifts, fight off any sense of disparity and conquer the world around them? Or did they simply get along with a laugh and a smile?

I want this world to be of my own making, but it would be nice to see how my ancestors handled certain situations. Roads I should consider, maybe roads I should stay away from ...

But I am different from many of them. They may have been racist, they may have been less educated, in a world with less technology, in a world with more or less despair, more or less known problems. The possibilities could go on.

But one great member of my family smiling at me through my genes would be nice. Does not everyone wish his or her ancestors overcame great obstacles. Does it not give the sense of a certain special attribute. My brother and sisters have red hair. Does that mean I am Irish, and the gift of reading and writing, the gift of literature fuels my heart and fires my existence? Or is the gift of literature just a stereotype fitted within a culture, meant to offset the overpowering culture of the drink that followed that culture.

Or are my genes, viking genes? The ruthless genes that sought out adventure and warfare. My brother has committed his life to the military. And I have a life committed to rock climbing and going on crazy adventures (if I can actually work it out to go on some.)

Yet my attitude of life is to focus on today and now. No past. No future. No beginning. No end. I am one with my ancestors. I am my own self.

Life in the flatlands.

I had my reasons for coming back to central Illinois.

I must walk away from the Midwest, not run.

Part of this place adds to me ... It is the place I learned how to ride a horse, the meaning of hard work and the importance of family.

Boredom-fueled imaginations delivered some truly crazy times.

However, I also felt an insatiable burning to get away. Colorado, my refuge, was the place where my mind grew and formed. It is there I gained an understanding of life, morality, hope and open-minded thinking. Colorado introduced me to climbing and a fulfilling life.

I have been too excited to leave for far too long. I must face this and must leave with a smooth step so I never have to return.

It is this I came back to face. I have to face my fears and my demons. I must do it constructively, or part of me will always be trapped in this place.

I am young. My patience waivers. It must grow. I will never endure otherwise. My thoughts must move inward, on bettering myself not only by actions, but by thought, papers, reading and philosophy. I must meet this challenge with deliberate action.

Long days wait for me, but I have many goals. I am building something here, and my job goals are noble. I am to connect a small liberal arts college with the surrounding communities, help develop programs and build a framework from which others may work in the future.

It is the good fight. It is a reason to stay until July, to face the demons I must face.

I stopped writing in this journal long ago. I hope to bring it back.

a long entry

Some days it will be warm evoking my jovial side. My happiness reminds me of times past when the weather had been the same: warm days in Florida, warm days in Portland, warm days of my youth - days roaming in pastures and wooded areas.

Here it doesn't remind me so much of Colorado. The air was dry there. The sun could warm me up on a cold day or burn in the heat. Colorado woke up the primal side of me. The side that wanted to survive, that wanted to thrive or dive into something full force and never let go.

The warm here wants me to breathe deeper, bury hope and live within a single moment. A deep breathe is all I have. It is the only moment. I don't like to think of tomorrow, of a goal, of a test ... of anything other than right now. Though, I do let the past creep up on me now and again.

But that is only when it is warm.

When it gets cold here. I hope for warmer days. With few cold-weather adventures, I seem to hold my breath. My greater work goes unfinished, and I wait for a moment when I can breathe again. I know I'm making too much of it, but I am really getting sick of the cold.

So maybe I'll live in Hawaii this summer. I no longer expect anything. I make tentative plans and flow with life. The other way is too painful, too shocking. A book on Buddhism made it seem controlling to ever make resolute plans. Why should we ever think we can control life?

I sent a letter to someone I haven't spoken to for a very long time. She was an ex of mine from way back in the day. I read something that reminded me of her, and I thought it was time to apologize yet again. I don't know if I'm really sorry for anything or the way it all happened. I grew so much from the experience. But I still think it affected her so badly. I hate it when my actions cause distress to another. It doesn't trouble me anymore, but I would hate to think anyone has to go on hating me or ruining good times with even a glimmer of me. I don't apologize much on that account, sooner forgotten ... sooner gone.

If I could really get a grip on one real opportunity for the future, I would let loose a whirlwind of hope. I think I could be great. But I feel all the hope that I've saved, accumulated for this very hard period is seeping from my soul. It leaks out like a mist. So I always seem hopeful, but deep inside it stays buried. I always thought my trial by fire would come all at once, in a single moment, proof for myself. But it's not like that at all ... It's a persistent trial. It stings at my heart, draws away, permits me to rebuild, brings me nearly to death and allows me to rebuild yet again - all this in a circle.

Mais, c'est la vie. J'espere.

Atheist.

What can a person say when everything in his past is challenged, and then it fails? A certain essence lent to a reality to give a more hopeful appearance ... lost.

I used to think all injustices would someday be rectified. I thought in this long term thought process, one which would stem thousands and thousands of years. Now I truly (no more doubt) believe I only have so many years. Then poof.

What a scary idea. Even scarier is I feel more alone than ever.

I think it will be for the best. I just wonder about so much right now.

c'est la vie

on a long trek, the narrator jabs his middle fingernail into his thumb when he'd think negative thoughts. he would do this sometimes until his finger bled. it would remind him of his negative thoughts and keep him in a better disposition.

i think i should adopt this philosophy. the negative aspects of my life circle my soul like buzzards waiting for last flicker of movement, the last sense of life's rebellion. i can feel myself slipping into the negative - day by day.

i won't try to sound positive. this whole situation is ruining so much.

losing

What could I write?

I could write an inspiring message of hope ...

some message of how blessed I am to be living in such a great world ...

about a day of beauty and hope ...

But I won't because it's not the way I feel ...

I can't say how I feel.

Because I just don't know anymore. If you asked me if I was happy, I wouldn't know what to say.

I need a job, need a path, need some form of worth.

Middle Ground

"I hope it was worth it," I said as I sat alone in a room filled by two people.

Confusion...

7/7/07

Does not seem to be my lucky day.

Swallow

I am feeling more and more situated in Portland. I have now seen more of the outside, been climbing in a newly developed area and started working a job that seems to suit me. However, there are still some difficulties. My whole attitude shifted last night as I overdrew my account. Feeling like a failure, I re-examined a million little things about my life right now.

I am not doing enough. I will wait out the training for this job (for that is the promise I made when hired,) but I could be doing more. I could be investing my time into some bigger cause or a more fulfilling job. Part time at a rock gym is not going to cut it for my ambitions.

Someday I think my ambitions will swallow me whole.

Until that day, all I can do is acquiesce to the inner desire to be something more.

at times scared, but relishing the challenge.

Miss my friends ...

Miss laughter and climbing ...

Miss a purpose ...


Standing at the concert last night, I realized, this is my home. I have went out onto the edge of a dangerous precipice, wind roaring at my back.

So this is the real world?

I wonder how I will do...
A mysterious life sits in front of me.

a hike above tree line.

I look up at that jagged peak. I ascend that jagged peak.

This is life to me. Nothing is impossible. Our lives are mysteries until the end, but we have the control to make them beautiful. Sitting back and reading books, exploring my mind and coming to conclusions about my own unlimited curiosity thrills me. Doing what seems hard to look back at an easy ascent enlightens me to the stress my body might be able to take.

And when emotions grip me, it is wonderful to see how passionate I can become.


When in unison, the heart and the mind spring to the expectations of a grand and great adventure - an adventure for the storybooks, an adventure that soothes the soul.

in ireland (this hostel smells funny)

A million miles away from all I know with someone I barely know. Yet he is someone I should.


For all the crazy and fun adventures on this trip, I really wish for those friends who know me the most, who know me the deepest. My trip is almost done, and I will be another million miles away from everyone who knows me.

Yet this is the adventure. This is the life of a man who will not settle.


Someday I will be home. I will keep those friends.

Maybe someday the greatest adventure will be the smallest instances in everday life ...

What a horrible experience! So why do I constantly jump into the role of mediator? Why would I put myself into such an awkward situation?

I could easily burn for everything now that I am playing that role. Yet, I must.

It was the right thing to do.




:*( - I wish I could just call someone and vent. I hate feeling so distant from everyone.

Eureka

Found my glasses in the weirdest place! I thought I lost them.


This makes me so happy!

Connection

I went bowling with some people from camp last night. It was all good fun, some funny conversations, great jokes and great pictures.

But I saw something on the way that made me remember the mountains for what they mean to me. It's not as if they are not daunting anymore, but I now feel the same connection I once felt. In a moment, I was comforted.

Slick blades of raw rock protruding upward into the clear sky. Snow hangs nowhere except the peak. These rocks are raw and unaltered, letting everyone know they could stand alone, breathing in the fresh mountain air for eternity. In the rain, a mist surrounds the bold face and briskly flows around it. And in the bitter cold, it's face is dabbled but not covered with complete snow, again letting everyone know, nothing could detain it. But in the summer, it's true beauty comes out as a brilliant sun and blue sky create such a contrast as for some tourist to say, "Hey, hunny, now that's beautiful."

And so I feel a connection. I'm sure I could stand alone for an eternity only breathing in the mountain air. But I know somewhere out there is a blue sky and brilliant sun, metaphorically speaking - of course everyone knows there is a blue sky and a sun.

Amy mentioned something in an e-mail to me a while ago. I was telling her about everything going on in my life, and she responded how she knew it was right as long as it met certain conditions. And in a moment, I knew it was a lie, and maybe it was just an escape for me. So some people really do know me. Let me just call them kindred spirits. So rare they are, yet so close to me in every single way.

On another note, after eating breakfast this morning, something happened and made me want to do one of those Irish-Leprechaun-jump-in-the-air-with-your-heels kicks. And for the first time, I did it perfectly. Maybe it is the elevation ...

As white mountain peaks surround me on each side, so does nostalgia.

Coming back to Colorado, back to the mountains of my youth, I am taken back to a time when I was just learning to be passionate, to be driven, to see the world for how it is and make it better. Much of that has now been tempered with different experiences. I've learned that things never quite go as I want them, and even the best situation can crumble.


So I've learned ... and now what do the mountains mean to me? Why do they seem so daunting, so unreal? They are not the same mountains from my childhood. They don't feel like my mountains anymore. They feel like everyone else's, and now I'm just this outsider. I really hope this feeling goes away.

I haven't heard from my brother in a little while. It is so close to Ireland. Maybe that is getting to me more than anything. He was so good at getting back to me before.


Uncertainty surrounds my future.

Lost Poems

So here I sit packing for this huge, scary world I've heard so much about and I find some poems from freshman year in Colorado ...

outcome
tender heart, do not cry
when sun dims
when clouds throw tears,
a child cries from want,
the passion is lost,
love loses trust,

because,
the sun will rise again,
the Earth will heal with cloud's tears,
a child will bring peace,
passion is never lost inside your soul,
love losing trust doth not yield love.

Twitching

curiousity becomes my soul,
depression my very existence,
a sun rises - outcasting pain,
clouds hasten overhead
delivering contemplative thoughts,
grandeur sits, awaits
lowly existence prevails, exists
my moment is yet to come
have patience

Math 127
Iridescent light shined from tip to top,
meager, weak sounds overcame all
greatness subsided, beauty slipped,
walls condensed further in
stripping myself of integrity, purity
of the inert nature of freedom
and the wild streak resigned
under the conformity of a cubicle world


Unnamed
The cold pierced through my heart,
pain drawn up inside, condensed,
wretched truth be known,
I should do unto you the same,
I should let you feel the pain,
Yet,
I never would,
Since I never could.

How much my life has changed since freshman year ...

the end of college?

Beyond some early-morning editing, my undergrad is done.

Tonight, I shall buy a 40 and celebrate with many friends. Sadly though, I just won't feel like it is done until tomorrow.

One week.

On these warm, summer nights, my heart fills with a void. And that void strongly resonates until I know I may not sleep without some far reaching hope consuming my dreams. And it is on these nights that my ambition to live every single second with heartfelt greatness is checked with fear.


'Hope will conquer all,' I think to myself.

I will never give up. I will find great love. I will find great adventure in life. I will find my true path, or it will find me. In one week, I will have my degree.

In one week, I will finally allow myself to be free from all the burden I've placed on my life. It will be my turn to decide where my life will go.

Yargghhh!

Horses, eh?

I am going to work with horses, and not just sea horses either! - The huge, muscular, snorting, sometimes crazy, but very very exciting mammals.

I think it will be fun. It will give me some time to figure out what I'm really going to do.

Will I keep moving further out West, settling in that lush, temperate rain forest some call the Pacific Northwest? Or will I settle in Denver, training like a madman and doing the occasional Iron Man? Or, will I work on my parlais francais tout l'ete et move onto Africa with the Peace Corps. Or like a madman will I take a professor's advice and go to graduate school to get my M.B.A. or advanced Econ degree? (madman, indeed) Then there is always the occasional move to Europe on a work visa, pick up whatever languages needed along the way, totally reinventing my life like a man on the run.

I have my degree! I have no reason to stay! If my life were golf, I'd be at par. I think I can do a little better!



after this, I'd rather be a bit of an intellectual for a while. 'twould be nice.

the end.

Soon I will be in another state of mind. I will leave my friends, family and worries to get three papers done, get a peace corps application done and finish an application for this summer. Three papers stand in between a degree and me. I hate to be single minded but everything rides on this. I am afraid of what comes after, but I must finish this degree. I must move on.


I went out in the sun today and wrote in my newly bought journal. The warm sun on my skin felt comforting. I thought a lot and got so many of my feelings out on paper. My last journal never felt like it was mine. Bought by someone else, it did not ever feel as if it was me. Yeah, weird huh? But this new journal feels like me. - I can express myself again.


Here I sit. Ready to study. Ready to commit to that single purpose, to turn off my phone and to head into the digital world of online journals and books I've recently read on the subjects, only talking to sources I need for my paper.


Once I get done, I will think of other things.

The Virginia Incident is so depressing. So many had to die because a young, confused individual found no hope. He continuously dove back into destructive habits and lost sight of the true greatness of life.



I hate how people have to die. I hate it more that it happens every day. I wish I was around in that atmosphere. I wish I would have known Cho. I wish I could have befriended him and just told him to relax. I wish I could have gotten him a date with a random, weird girl. Life can be a pretty tragic thing, especially when you feel isolated from everyone.



I wish I could have given him some hope.



157 people died in Baghdad today.




I imagine many there have lost hope. I have no clue what they are going through. I could not even imagine such a destructive atmosphere. I would gladly give my life to end their suffering. My life will be devoted towards spreading hope.


I know exactly what it means to be saddened because I can only give one life to a cause. If I had a thousand lives, I would die a thousand horrible deaths if it meant some would not have to suffer.



I have a job interview on Friday. I pray I can start fighting the good fight with my entire soul. My degree is soon done. My life will be extreme. This is a war.



This is a war for hope.

Forgive me, world. I will not bend.



Something better does exist. Something fantastic! Something wonderful! I will tell everyone to wonder about life. No path is a dead end. Every path is another way to live a full, meaningful life.


If I were a bum, I would smile at the chance to know what is like not to have. It would make me appreciate everything.


If I were a millionaire, I'd be happy to have the ability to help others with my income. I'd also see the world and invest in a lifelong education.


If no love every lasts, I will be lucky to have loved and not backed down. It was well worth it.


The naysayers are bunk!

30 degree run.

I went on a run this morning. I could feel my hands after the first two miles.

In the second two miles, I had an epiphany.

Fear has nothing to do with any of this. Why should I fear something that feels so true?

To distrust this, I first must distrust myself.

It is not a step for which I am not ready.

I love her.

poem

Mystery …

Maybe I will enjoy the journey beyond,

To give my life a dark path

And travel with heart and spirit

Translucence fading not

Into a world, ever-changing

Not mellow nor imbalanced

Spiritually delivering

Mentally fatiguing

This is what I wish for my life.

The day I knelt down, willfully gave my hand

My heart leaped out knees buckling

under a liberated, fiery soul

Inner dreams splashed rich colors

Against a twirling, whirling mind

a deep breath kept me going.

A bold move into the night.

It is a scary thing to go from absolute uncertainty where every single part of my existence is wondering where my life might go ...



to discovering myself more and more confident, stumbling upon a story for the ages, creating vast lines of poetry without delusion, loving myself more and more and stepping precariously




on the skirts of a cliff line where no imaginable bottom may be.





With a solid heart, I surge forward not accepting the limitations society places on me. I will never succumb. I will forever hold my head high.



And even if I should take that fall, which I am sure is a possibility, I will forever live in weightlessness as I plunge deeper into my own abyss.

afraid to breathe

The nerves twitch in my shoulders as I await my fate. I really believe I'm not doing enough. I have to believe in myself. Yet I cannot help feeling a sense of discomfort and anxiousness.

I sit here now as my resume reaches its third set of eyes. I am 1-for-2. What will the verdict be? Will I be turned down cheerfully?

I always think back to my high school days. I squandered my talent early on and believed it would not matter which undergraduate school I attended. However, my biggest fears were, and still are, not feeling challenged enough. I believe this boredom led my heart down a very unhealthy path. My inactive mind lost, and still loses, ability.

It needs some kind of challenge.

I do not fear a midlife crisis. Every other day is a new way to criticize myself. Every new day is time for a new crisis and change in my life. I just want to live a healthy productive life. I wish for it every day. Boredom is my enemy.

my eyelids grow heavy.

for me, there is still so much to do with today. yet the day is done.

i heard somewhere the weather will be nice tomorrow. maybe fate will also smile on me.


I sometimes wonder why my cat stays so close to me while I am around. I wonder if he enjoys my company or maybe feels safer around me. I remember carrying him outside while he was still a kitten. It was night, and the UPS trucks was just leaving. He scrambled to run, but as I held him, he struggled tightly against my shoulder. It felt good to play the role of protector.


So as i sit here with heavy eyelids, I begin to imagine tomorrow. I imagine the depressing news that seems inevitable. I imagine my advisor's excuses while she tells the reasons for not calling me. And then I think of how much I have been through till this point. I wonder how much more I will endure before I leave this school. I wonder if fate will ever let me return home. I wonder if I shall ever again be in the West without returning here to stay, permanently imprisoned.


If I have a hope, I shall be fine.

it is only when that hope fades
when the nights come and as my eyelids grow heavy
i sit trying to convince myself someone knows
the pulsating rhythm of my soul
some predestined force presides
and if faith has carried me
thus it will
until a warm summer springs
and i find myself gone.

Sleepless.

I would love to talk about the sad realities of life in this post, but I fear all we ever have is hope for the future.




I think it would be a great thing to feel hope right now.

Valentine's Day

Oh what a day it is!



I woke up this morning happy to be alive, and now I wonder if this is all to simple? In time, I may come to be more stable and move back into the passionate lifestyle I once knew, but for now I have grown cynical and believe I am only leaving my current world behind.


I want to minimize damage.