People don’t believe me when I say I’m not good at English.  It was never the class I enjoyed going to, and I always felt like I never understood what the rules were for the great communication game.  See for me, words pour out of my mouth like a container full of liquid, with limited grace and an inability to separate one drop from the next. I speak in circles and talk continuously when I really should be listening but I can’t help it at times, its how I deal with at times persistent anxious feeling that arises from the sound of silence.
It wasn’t always like this, there was a time when I was younger when I didn’t speak, didn’t let my voice be heard or call out others. In my quiet, I felt that there was no reason to speak, people spoke for me, and that was good enough. That period of time continued until I was called to talk, to let my voice be heard, but all that came out were things I had learned because that’s all I felt people wanted.
So I talked and talked and all I would say were what I thought people wanted to get their way.  I didn’t feel like words were my own, they were just a ship to carry me closer to home. They were a way to keep me out of trouble or to deflect shame, if I kept speaking I wouldn’t feel the pain. All words were was a means to an end, but each time spoke the fewer ears people would lend.  I would answer questions, give my opinion, try to talk as much as I could but ultimate it didn’t fix anything under the hood. So they stopped calling on me, the teachers that be, because they felt it would be free, to stop speaking to me. So the silence grew deep, and my words became meek, I felt as though my voice itself was weak.
I couldn’t get out of this trouble, I wonder, it this trouble is the trouble to cause my heart to fall asunder. So I spoke and spoke, just as I speak and speak, to hopefully feel like my heart was not weak. I needed help with my words because regardless of what was said, there was never a feeling of feelings of being whole in my head.
So my words began pouring like a pitcher of water, learning how to speak so they would not be fodder.  So I learned the words that people would feel and repeated and repeated them just like a wheel. Every time I repeated, the words would change, until the words became words that would break from this cage.
The problem with the words that would say I said is that feels like a contract,  a contract with the dead.  I could speak and speak, and people would at times listen, but if there were not speaking, I wouldn’t feel the glisten. My heart would ache and ache in pain because without the glissen,  no frisson which means my vision would fission and leave a division. My mind was split, and these words would travel back until it felt like the words in my head were like an attack.
So I work on my words, day in and day out, to stop this addictive vindictive word spout.  I want to try and embrace the silence, let words be heard instead of defiance.  So I might speak now, and people might listen but to be honest, I would find something missing.  So here is where I digress, from the words, rhythm, and rhyme, because to be honest, I need to talk about real this time.

I realized at some point through all this writing, how beautiful words can be. When I craft a sentence, it feels like watching a tree.  It grows and changes as time passes. The winds move it and the season changes it, but they are there to remind me that giving it a little effort gives it all it needs to grow.  So I leave with this, another lesson another year’s folly, I want to become and change some more, because I have some more words to pour.  Thank you for listening to another year’s adventure, and here are some links of my past posts about words.

Year One : Year Two


The Other Path.


I have trouble, looking at the paths laid out before me, knowing what will quench me quickly may not be the path to take me to where I want to go.  It makes me wonder if I should just let go and give into the feelings and emotions of the hour. To make decisions based upon the here and now.  Decisions based on being drawn back into the past or to be pulled into a familiar future. Both of which lead me to nowhere but difficulties and strife.  I want to rise above and take this third road, a higher road, and yet it feels as though I can’t find it.  I know only so much as to perceive though challenges, but when will this potential suffering really end itself. Is it a matter of staying true to the path or walking as long as I can until I find someplace to seek refuge.  Life is long, and the amounts of things we experience are varied, so for most experiences, it’s only a matter of time until it happens, but should we deny the ill-advised opportunities in the hope that the universe will deliver some sort of saving grace upon our doorstep.

I’ve been told to take control of the opportunities afforded to us, but also to be wise about the one’s opportunities we take. Grab life by the horns but make sure not to get gored by the bull.  It’s these nuances that get to me,  they are the difficulty in my path because trying to sort what is and isn’t right is and time energy consuming. I think that’s the part that bothers me the most, is all the energy to keep my mind and body at bay.

Maybe I should just take these additional choices out of the equation, to make it so only the possibilities that arise that reach a specific high criterium will get past the gate. That way I can concentrate on the opportunities that will push me forward in the areas I want to go.

That doesn’t leave room for growth though, it stalls my nature and keeps the equilibrium.  I don’t want that either.  I don’t know exactly what to do other than forging a new path all on its own. A path that doesn’t adhere to the standard constructs that I am used to. To find my own way of doing things that subscribe to my personal code of ethics. I am not sure where the other path takes me or even if its right, but is its an idea of what to do as I wait for the road I was meant to take.  Maybe I should take this moment to grow in a way that I have never thought of before. Let’s find the other path and watch where it leads because the two I have taken are known to not take me where I want to go.

Memory Flash

It feels like it flows from my fingertips
The expression of memory and intimacy
Flashes of feeling and memory
A vividness that captures my attention
They are escaping me
Like as memory
Each time remembered becomes softer
More Distorted

If feels like the flash is the memories life
The feeling trying to resurface and live
Gasping for air, one last stand before being left behind
It’s too late now
I can’t go back to relive the memories
Can’t go back to make any more
So sit motionless waiting for them to pass
Hoping to capture those last moments

There they go.

A Simple Plane Ride of Self Discovery


I met a man on a plane recently.
A man on the way to his hometown of Nashville.  We sat next to each other, and even though I needed to get work done and put in earplugs, he wanted to start up a conversation. He was in his late twenties, with long hair pulled into a bun, and a scraggly beard to match.

He was nervous, about going home. Worried because he would be returning home after three and a half years being away from it.  He lived in Sydney at the moment, but he began recounting his tales of world travel.  This is what got me intrigued.  He had decided after completing his bachelors and was starting his masters that he wanted a different life for himself, and his girlfriend agreed, so they took off to teach English on the other side of the world.  Moving around from place to place, using the teaching gig as a mechanism to explore parts unknown.  To be honest, it sounded fun.  They lived a simple life, were able to afford what they wanted, but lived within their means, and they picked up skills along the way.  Thirty countries he mentioned, thirty countries he had traveled through hitting countless cities and villages along the way.  He had been able to experience all sorts of different cultures, and he told me how he had learned from each one of them.
I sat there sharing my own experiences but mostly listening to what he had to say.  We talked about the fact I am doing my masters and why he felt that his original dream to get his Ph.D. fell by the wayside for this new dream. It was an exciting talk, and once the flight was over, we went our separate ways.

The talk stuck with me, I thought about it the long ride to the place I would be staying for the wedding the next day.  I think the reason be, is that his life was my back up plan for if the whole academia thing didn’t work out.  What my life could be like if I had thought academia wasn’t for me or if academia thought I wasn’t for them.  I was the idea that I would go about the world, learning and growing from all the lessons it had to offer. Meeting new people and having new experiences and deciding where to be one month at a time. His life had a sort of appeal to it, an excitement, an adventurous spirit that I feel within myself too.  For a moment, I really wondered if I could still grasp it.

After our talk and the plane began to unload we went our separate ways, It was then I realized I never even knew his name, we hadn’t exchanged on the plane. Maybe that’s okay, be what he represents now is a different life, a different path for me.  This is not to say that this path might not converge with the path I am on but I found the path I will be following.  I still want to travel more and see the world, and my choice to go into academia isn’t going to change that. It was nice to see that either path I could have taken, I might have been happy, which is good enough for me.

So to the perfect stranger, I met on the plane, I hope you live a full and rewarding life, maybe I’ll see you again one day and find out how it turned out.

The World In The Life Of A Guy – Part 10 – Honor and Pride


I don’t know when it starts, this idea of honor and pride, it may have started as a seed sown when we are young, or the side effect of hormones that change our bodies. Either way, there is a force that comes to us, that drives us to do crazy things in the name of an invisible force that binds us to a sense of self.
Honor and pride, it allows us to stay consistent in a world that pushes us to care less and prevents us from giving in to the passing beliefs, alternatively, it makes us rigid and at times makes us incompatible with one another.
Pride is a force that governs our image and view of ourselves and how we decide to maneuver through the world.  I am not saying that it is only a male thing, many women have pride of their own.  It is though, so ingrained in how guys are raised, that image of pride and yourself matters and any attempt to belittle or harm pride become a direct attack on the person.  It is in feelings of pride weakness and insecurity that we put up barriers for ourselves lock out the potential of growth and change. Instead, it acts like a cornered mouse, lashing out at anything that opposes it. Pride is good, too much of it is terrible. The way I see it is if pride gets in the way of you living your life, then what is the point of that pride, it delivers nothing with the promise of nothing but a story and a good feeling that resolves to nothing.  For me, this sense of pride should be abandoned if it sets out to hurt others or ourselves because pride should be a way for us to stand up straight in the face of adversity, not to become living statues of a time long past.
Honor is a harder thing to dissect.  Honor is thought to be a warrior’s trait.  Everyone can have honor, but for girls and guys these pieces of honor stem from different places.  Honor for us comes from the adherence to rules and do right. Honor is built and maintained, though at times can be associated with the rigidity of bureaucracy a slowness of the old way.  No one gets mad at honor for honor’s sake, they get angry at the close adherence to these rules that make men do outrageous things.  Honor’s purpose is not to be followed but to guide. Not to merely act but to reflect on the world at large and ask what it is and why something should be.  Honor should be adhered to only when you know its purpose and is used to protect and not to harm.
Honor and pride, though sometimes unspoken and not formally taught, we find ourselves here through watching and learning from those who came before.  They are interesting because they tie to who we are and what it means to be us. Honor and pride are at the core of who we are and make us do the things we do.


I keep having dreams of her
A being from my past life
With each time I close my eyes
I feel a bittersweet sorrow

They are all vivid
These visions of mine
Spurred on by a combination
of a small conversation
and the remnants of a connection that remains tangled

These dreams ask me to reach
To reach out and speak to her
To fulfill these feelings that have come welling up
Not of love
But to something else, I don’t understand

Is it connection lost
A comfort missed
A fear placated
Or some secret desire of my heart
I don’t understand and I don’t like not understanding

I’ve asked others for council
But there is not enough there
Only stabs in the dark
Not intention just guesses to the question

So I remain frozen here
Waiting for a sign
To clear up these unknowns
These feeling and actions are different than who I am
But then again these are all feelings from a past life
One where I knew her and didn’t need dreams to see.

What Happens If I Am Right?


I wanted to preface this post by saying that this post I wrote over a year and a half ago and just never got around to publishing because it had no real conclusion. The post reflects my feelings in a darker time, and it was inspired by a sense of hopelessness that came about from reflecting on both the end of a relationship and the fear the knowledge of the numerous reasons I was left behind. The reason I am posting this now because it fits the philosophy of why I started this blog in the first place, to both practice writing and to open myself up and talk about all myself.  I have found my answer which I write at the end, but without the journey, I can’t have come to the conclusion.

This mad dash towards the truth, to know, to learn this insatiable appetite that pushes me forward. Finding out about people, things, and places. How the cogs turn in this great machine that we built together.  Many have found this pursuit of knowledge to be crippling, dark and foreboding.  It has a way of changing people, making people cynical towards our fellow man. The more they find the twists and turns, the realization that people will not do the thing you think is best no matter how much you talk to them.  The actions were taken in the shadow, or even worse the done in the light for everyone to see. It sometimes feels like opening Pandora’s box and releasing the final scourge upon the earth, the antithesis of hope.

I see people become jaded, learn to hate and despise one another.  A lot of what psychology says about people is that they will do things to lessen punishment and maximize reward. Find ways to make the world better for them, to cope with their surroundings and when those surroundings clash, the meeting of these two opposite winds create tornadoes for all to see. Destroying and constructing building debris for all to see. People become “realists” seeing people as they are. Creating briefly illusions that manifest themselves as the worst part of someone, the worst way they can act. Seeing this person as a devil or a demon in human skin, here to rid you of your happiness and joy.  It is easy to lose hope when it feels like no one cares and everyone is out on their own. The coldness that would seep in is unbearable, finding that even wrapping yourselves in clothes will not remove that chill.

I can’t believe that. I want to know better. I think people aren’t just out there to ruin lives, but perhaps I am wrong. The heart beating in my chest calls out to bring things up to a higher calling. A seminal feeling that leads me to hope, makes me walk through the storms.  Calls for me to confront these actions give the reasons and know how to show that there is no boogie man. I am human like everyone else, no better, no worse. I do things because I that’s how I learned to.

I am lost in this.


I found my answer; I wish I had been more solid in it before it became something I had to face.  It doesn’t matter if  I am right if I can guess the outcome or foresee the future, its what we do with that knowledge that makes the difference.  I found out I was right, that some of the reasons I had feared about the end of my relationship came to pass, but with that came an understanding. An understanding that knowing and reflecting on this doesn’t give me peace. Its being able to let go and forgive which reflection brings, that give me peace.  What use is being able to see the future and not be able to change it? Live I now in the present and focus on what have because if I don’t I’ll miss out on all the people and things who are absolutely beautiful around me. 

Chasing A Dream, Where Ever It May Go


“It’s the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting.”
― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

I know recently, I have been complaining a lot about the fact the I’ve been tired, but I want to take a moment to reflect on the reason I am exhausted in the first place.

I’ve been busy, busy with various new experiences life as seen to throw my way.  Mostly work, to be honest, but its weird, this is never the type of working experience that I have ever had.  It’s this thing where I almost crave it.  I work and act as if all myself want and needs to.  I’ve had a lot of jobs and been through a lot of schooling, and this is the first time I’ve really felt this way about all the things sitting in front of me. It’s like a high mountain to climb, and I’m mountain climber trying to traverse it.

My days have been filled with staying at school for more than 12 hours at a time.  I check each day what my home door to door time is and each day I realize its extending.  At these points, I would find that I would be tired of going, tired of continually having to push myself more to get done everything I want to do. Each opportunity feels as if it is a whetstone, sharpening my the tools I will use to push forward in my life.  It feels as if this moment, my body feels live so that it wants to keep pushing farther and further than I ever had before.

Maybe its perspective, the two years away from school has definitely changed how I approach education.  Though I always knew I would continue down this path, I feel more passionate about my choice to do so.  Unrestricted, more sure-footed about where I want to go and what I want to do.   It keeps me vigilant about my opportunities, keeps me actively striving for more, until I find myself staying up late, working long hours to complete something.

My body needs rest as it starts to ache all over.  My eyes begin to burn from all the monitors and from being awake so long during the day.  My mind sits in a fog by the time I get home, just trying to digest everything that just happened. I have no time, and yet I keep going in the hopes that I will catch up in the long run.  My belly runs empty, and I have to remind myself to eat enough for the amount I expend. And yet, I love these moments, because it feels like I am finally pushing myself to do something great.

There a danger to it, with the new feeling comes cautionary tales of both burn out and breaking.  If I push too hard too fast, I can break down my body and my health to the point where my body refuses me, and I have to stop the obsession. The second is set this fire for much for too long runs the risk of turning the subject I have fallen in love with into a bastion of resentment.  Begining to internalize the little things and grow tired of the subject and the place I am to work.  As always, it’s about the balance of these things, to keep my mind healthy and my ridiculous actions in check.

I want to push myself so I can grow strong under the opportunities that I have been presented. By the end of this short two years, I want to have the strength to tackle the next five and the knowledge of how to get stronger for the next 60 and beyond. Every day is a new challenged and all I want to do is live up to it.

An Investment In Self Depreciating Returns


You believe you are who you say you are most of the time. It’s how we intercede with the world, and it’s subtle at times because things slip out we never really give much thought to.  That’s why in observing recently I found something I am not too happy with.  It’s this attitude that focuses on whenever I feel awkward or in the spotlight I resort to self-deprecation as a means of humor.  Which ordinarily isn’t an issue but its comes to mind now because I realize its a crutch I resort to when I find myself in a situation that might just be better suited with a pause.  I attack my self to attack my point to avoid conflict of any type.   To make sure I don’t look too big for my britches or arrogant.  All I am doing at the end is destroying both my self-value and smoothing out the potential nuances that never need smoothing.

I don’t know why I do this, its a relic of the past I’m certain but why does it still echo into the present with such volume.  I don’t like doing it, and when I catch myself in the act, I feel as if I am trying to keep myself in a particular negative state of equilibrium.  It’s silly and yet, it’s almost subconscious.  I wonder when this piece of myself started to grow, and give rise to such a nasty habit but I hope to change it.

The world is hard enough as it is without us bringing ourselves down.  It doesn’t stand in confidence, these lowly parts of ourselves, but it keeps us from having to fall when reality kicks us in the face.  That philosophy of keeping ourselves on the ground just because we are afraid it might hurt too much to flight doesn’t actually get us anywhere worth going.  I don’t want to be arrogant but I do want to know myself enough to be confident in my thoughts.  I want for who I am not to need to worry about putting in these words to into my statements to soften the blow.  I should be bold in my statements but also bold in my willingness to accept being wrong when I am.

Progress on ourselves in an ever increasing thing.  Today it’s this, not to depreciate myself, because ultimately it’s an investment in myself and who I will be in the future.

To: Halloween


Dear Halloween,

I know it’s been a while, I see you every year as we pass by each other and we say hi and exchange small talk. It doesn’t feel real anymore, more like we’re just going through the motions
I know we used to be friends when I was little, I was excited to see you every time I got the chance, but the moment my teen years came around, my dad didn’t want me hanging around you anymore, so we stopped seeing each other.
By the time I finally saw you again I, never knew what to say, so much time had passed, and it felt like we’re in different places.
I want you to know I’ve never had a problem with you. Truth be told I rather like when you’re around, its a lot more lively, and it makes people happy. Though we really didn’t hang out, I knew somewhere deep down we were still on friendly terms.  I know I really dress up to your parties, but at least we always had fun.
As to what happened a couple years ago, I know it wasn’t your fault.  A lot of people get excited when they see you’re going to be around, and that excitement ended up becoming a fight.  It ruined the night and our small interactions.  I don’t want to admit that it still stings a bit, but as times goes on, it’s not as bad as it uses to be.
The reason why I’m writing this to you in the first place is that it’s time for us to get to know each other again. I feel like our relationship could be better.  A lot of people love you, and I can see why you are just enjoyable. People feel like at ease around you and allow themselves to let go, and I should embrace that.
I want to be able to enjoy your company more and even though I know we’re never going to have the same experiences we did in the past but nor should we. We are in different places and want different things.  The fun times we have together should be different too.  I think I’m ready for the next step forward, to start anew. Let me know if your still interested Halloween, I hope I’m not too late.