Mum

St. Louis

New Years.

Chicago!

She argued Chicago was not the Midwest.
If I ever find a mountain to climb here, maybe I'll return.

Sunlight and Fresh Air

The sun breaks through the window. It does not shine on me but just to my right. It makes an ordinary chair in an otherwise ordinary kitchen shine with a luster of a beautiful, lazy day. Outside, an inch of snow sits on the ground. It gives the sun's rays a bit more brightness.

Steady ... steady ... I must hold this course steady no matter the outcome. Though it may finally be destructive. I cannot escape my heart and spirit.

A young woman called me a few nights ago. In more or less words, she asked me to stay away from the Pacific Northwest. It was pretty ugly. 2:00am. I was happy when I picked up the phone and bewildered the next. Earlier she said she had another with whom she was sleeping ... said she loved me and this other was just something physical. I wanted to rationalize it, to believe in it. In any case I could not. Maybe that's why it failed ... for all of her shallow words, she knew the truth. Her mind imprisons her as much as anyone else in this world. Even my mind imprisons me with my thoughts, standards, dreams and fears.



As soon as I find a sublessor, I will be back steady on my course. I have no time to be a prisoner of my own mind.

Let truth and reality reign.

Today I live in sunshine and fresh air.

I am I

Sometimes I wish I didn't have so much emotion ... such ferocity! In our culture, it is good to have complete control of one's emotions. Yet, my emotions are too much!

So you call me weak?!

That I am not.

My emotions are unbridled. They are the heart of my intelligence, my love, my anger ... my physical and emotional body. My heart after all the pain is but a ragged dagger. It has tasted the beautify of life and has seen its fragility. I ask you, if you love life why not embrace it? What do we have to lose, but life? If we do not risk a little now, it will be a slow drag to death's embrace.

No! That is no life for me.

I would like to glide into into death's embrace.

I need hard work. I need to ask for as much out of this existence as I can. Fear has no place in my heart. It hinders me. It hinders my true nature.

Tonight, I read a book that tells of why it is good to produce. While I do not believe it should come at any cost, I do feel the need to produce something tangible and needed. I also feel the need to pursue my own self interest. Tonight, I make a pact with myself. One I will not break, not for anything ...

In February, I shall leave the Midwest. It offers me nothing. It is not my home. It only brings me boredom. I will not come back. These emotions within me are strong. I won't give up on them. Existence is too short. This life will not come without planning and hard work.

"You must earn it. True greatness comes not by favoritism, but by fitness. And the right hand and the left are not mine to give, they belong to those who are prepared." - One who saw truth.

F*$#

Fuck it.

I'm moving out West. Will it work? Who cares!

Why do people let me down? Who knows? This is existence.

Probably not the smartest way, but just going to go ... Where?

Ha! Like I even know ...

It's just me now.

Ara Batur

Vid spilum endalaust

Before I take a single drink tonight, I must tell myself a few things. One, I need stability. I need people around who won't flake out on me. I need to build faith in people. It is not enough to have faith in myself. I need to gain a sound base of at least $2,000 that I will always keep in savings for any given mishap just for the peace of mind that comes with knowing things could go wrong. I preferably would like to build up more wealth. Everything is driven by wealth.

I have a weakness in that I am sensitive, and I do care a lot about others. I empathize with people and their situations. I have always felt a need to do good in this world. I must understand this is a weakness. I don't feel like it is, but it means I am easily manipulated by others. I have to work for little to nothing when I have no form of a safety net. My knowledge in economics tells me all of the benefits I forgo by thinking in this manner. My mind does not focus as it must. Women are also a problem. Women see me as weak. I am accused of not having a great plan. I stress as my decisions seem so crucial from time to time, and I lose my humor and strong mind. My problems bring others stress.

I know I am strong. But I shouldn't push it so far. I've tried my whole life to push it more and more. Nothing is enough. Yet, now I know that I am alone. I must think of only myself. This is what my life must be. I must think of nothing else. I must change.

The world is a cruel place. It can be beautiful as well. I will not admit I lost. Never! Yet ... everything is changing. I must not think too much, not tonight. Not any night.

To see the waves breaking on the shore ...

My eye lids raise instantly. And I'm staring at his smile set against yellow and red lions. Who are you, Mr. Marley? And why do your words give me strength only on summer days?

I don't want a sure thing ... but DAMN! Come on... Is my life really going to just disintegrate once I get out West again?

And it is fear that is causing all of this ... The ugly bastard doth raise it's head and cry out to me, "Even if you do not heed me, I shall make another." That is when the tyrant grips me. She called last night to say she was annoyed by my love. She was scared of me, scared of this situation, maybe she didn't even want me to come. She rescinded. I didn't expect it, not after her being so resolute last time. Not after I had confirmed and asked her not to "flake out on me." But she did, and I understood her fear.

Then we spoke. She cried. I cried. She wanted me to talk her down. So I did. She told me again that she wanted me to come out. We spoke in confidences, and I let her back in. She said she wouldn't back down this time. I hope not, but still wonder how crazy all of this really is.

So I am scared of what is to come. Friends say that I am being foolish. Maybe I am. But I have sense to know when something is worth trying.

Except this time, I won't come back. I'd rather die trying this time. For the road may be crazy. I will face fear head on. I may fail, but I will not collapse. There's no chance I'm coming back. If I fail, I'll just sink into that abyss until I can start digging myself out. For the Western air is always sweeter, and this Midwestern lifestyle does not suit me.

So what's the story, Bob? Why don't you work so well on winter days?

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.