That Warm Feeling

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I was recently listening to a story on a podcast about two people falling in love.  It pulled at the heartstrings of mine and even though I don’t like to admit it, it actually made me crave that loving feeling in my life again. Almost as if it was a chink in the armor that I wasn’t aware of, or at least I was ignoring.  It made me feel like if I had a romantic relationship around again, it really wouldn’t be so bad. That I wanted it, that’s how compelling the story was,  it made me feel like love is something I needed because at least from what I heard, it can make you feel like anything before that was not a really the height of the feelings.  My memories tell me that the heights achieved when love is in the air are almost exclusively reserved for love and high achievement.  Now I was thinking, may I need love to make me feel whole.

I know that’s not a right way to think, but I got lost in the habit of doing so anyway.  I learned the lesson on this a long time ago when my good friends (now my ex) laid it out for me. You can’t get into a relationship if you feel like it’s what you need to fulfill you.  If you are doing this because you find some part of your life lacking, then it’s probably not a good reason to.  Relationships should be a complementary influence, not a supplementary one.  If the relationship only fills a particular void or is the missing piece make yourself feel whole then your really only creating one thing, but if you had two whole people, people who may have their problems but are at least working towards fixing them, then you might actually create something more than what you started with.
I’ve honestly taken those word to heart in more ways than one and even though it’s an important lesson it does come with a bittersweet price tag of remembering the one who gave me the advice in the first place.

With each love high comes a love low and with it creates a situation where two wholes might deteriorate into halves.  When you try to multiply anything by a fraction, you get less than before, which is not okay for anyone.  That’s the price of admission to this love game, that if your team isn’t working together or if someone gets hurt you will lose your ability to play as well as you used to.

Anyways, the story continued as the realization of love came much before the confession of it.  I think that was the part of the story that intrigued me the most.  That their love began to grow well before they thought they were able to express it to one another. That each one in their own way was inching closer to that point where their heart couldn’t stand it but they would take small consolations through it all. Small battles as their friendship formed.  I don’t know why that sounds so appealing.  I understand that in this situation you feel like a supernova ready to explode inside of you at all times. The immense weight of it all bearing down on you as you hope and pray for the opportunity to speak but hold off so that you can maintain the peace.

It’s obvious where their story went, the final confession followed by many years of happiness. You usually don’t hear about the alternative, but at least this one gives me hope. The reason behind why these two worked out and that the time they spent forming this relationship outside the confines of romance probably made this work for them.  Who knows really what works, I don’t really think anyone knows with absolute certainty.   Each person needs and wants something different. I can say it is beautiful in that way.

All and all, I’m not looking, I have enough on my plate that I can barely take care of myself let alone a relationship. I’m also not the kind of guy who does this whole relationship thing half-assed. What I do say though is that I’m okay with life taking its own way, I’m not in any rush, and there really is no reason to be.

Stupid Thoughts

I have a bleeding yearning
A picturesque promise of pain
My heart bounds at the notion
That makes me feel all but lame

The stench of love wafts by me
In now the season of death
When our impulse should be to find shelter
And try to eliminate threats

What timing do I have
That these feelings start to well
With no home to anchor
And no way to quell
So they feel like they want to fester
To grow fat in the absence of purpose
It is dangerous
For feelings that were spurned without purpose
Look for a place to attach
Then it is love without meaning
Like a well in a swamp

I hope that in my troubles
That I am able to let this feeling pass
To move towards a future without sorrow
Or chance of relapse

I want to change but to change requires discipline
Discipline to say not to what pains me
To think, measure, and act
I want to strike this balance within me
And not worry about what I may lack

I hope I am busy tomorrow and the next
I hope that I will be stressed
That way when I come across it tomorrow
I don’t have time for it even on my breath 

my breath

Chasing Dreams Before They Die

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I think all of us deep down inside have a part of ourselves that calls out to us, calls out to follow down the path we have honestly hoped we were destined for.  A part of ourselves that leaves us deeply unsettled by the continued nature of reality that doesn’t align itself with where our heart truly lies.

I constantly wonder, does the path we travel down require us to sacrifice part of our soul to keep afloat or is it a test to see if we are willing to devote ourselves to our dreams properly.  I regularly ask the question whether I am sacrificing enough or is there more I can give.  Can we strip ourselves down to such a fundamental level that we can devote ourselves so singularly to a cause that it becomes apparent that we no longer are a person but the living manifestation to a singular purpose or ideology?

I find that within these thoughts, in some way contains greatness.  It is the ability to focus on the one thing in front of you that it becomes your entire being for the time being that you exist within it focus until you have accomplished whatever you initially set out to do.  

That’s what I need, that laser focus, something I have never really fostered through my life. Instead, I let my mind wander endlessly from place to place stringing thoughts together like party decorations.  Though I might get to the destination, and it might bring me from place to place by the time I get there I will have all but run out of string.  It’s about using what I have wisely. Picking and choosing all that I do so that at the end of it all I have something that I can look back to and say I have built.

I am though greedy, I want to experience everything so choosing one seems almost unfathomable even though in my heart I know it’s not enough. Variety may be the spice of life, but I can’t sustain myself on spices alone, I need substance.  Where to cut and prune is the question, what to give up and slough off the tree of life so the branches can grow tall instead of being forced down by the weight of barren tree that never go anywhere.

Aside from that, I think what we spend most of our time on actually dictates how we feel.  In that, for us, it becomes then our jobs, a place where we spend most of our days that rule over our existence.  It has the greatest effect and even though in some ways we take every opportunity to spend the time we are freed from our time at work decompressing. In those moments we end up not really ever doing anything at all.

So it is up to us to make the life we want, the life we will sustain.  Our life is what we do and accept having done to us.  My biggest fear is becoming used to these feelings of my soul asking me to change and never doing anything about them. Slowly letting my dream die and dying along with them. Living a life that will never really feel satisfying because in the back of my mind I know that there could have been something more for me to do.  I want to chase the dream, but maybe it would be better to also be reminded that it can die and with it so would my soul.

Live life, and if your not, change it.  In the same way that the world will keep spinning if you are not around, we have no excuse not to at least try to make something new.

Stress bubble

It sits there in my throat
Moving back and forth between my chest and my head
An overwhelming rush of feeling
One that yells “RUN” at me
It throws jitters through my body
Makes my eyes water as if wanting to cry
This overwhelming feeling makes it seem like I am being crushed

I want to hide,
Get away from this stress that I feel
I could end it all
Stop the stress, but stopping doing things in my life
But that’s not how it works
I can’t be active and involved
Without the stress
Change will come eventually
And it’s best to face it rather than hiding from it.
I used to eat through my feelings
I used to throw myself into my hobbies
My games
I used to throw myself into my relationships
all of these things to rid myself of these horrible feelings
but I can’t do it anymore
I have to live with them
Fight through them

For now, I swallow the knot in my throat
Wait for the feeling to pass
Stop feeding the flame
And work toward the future.

I just don’t know when the stress bubble will pop.

The World In The Life Of A Guy – Part 7: Fear and Freedom

IMG_0099.JPGThere is something I take for granted, this ability to move through the world without having to worry too much about how the world will react.  Using only a little bit of common sense, I can manage to not have to worry about much.  Strangers walking down the street, glancing eyes about what I may be wearing, an offhand comment, these things don’t skim my radar.  But for women, this is something they have to deal with every day.

I think the easiest distinction that can be made is with travel.  I was lucky enough to be able to backpack through Europe, going from hostel to hostel, train to train, and airport to airport.  All without having to really think about the possibilities of strangers doing anything to me.  I took the standard safety precautions of locking up my stuff, but in coming back in the middle of the night to my bunk in a shared hostel room, the thought never crossed my mind that something could happen to me.
Maybe I am lucky that things didn’t but in talking about my trip with several of my friends and touting how great and inexpensive hostels are all my female friends had the same consensus ” that simply would be too risky for them,” especially having gone alone like I had.

Now whether or not that is true is one thing, but it’s this general feeling of being paranoid about the world that is the problem.  It’s both taught to girls at a young age and substantiated by how people act as they get older.  In walking in unfamiliar places there is always some dangers, but I never have to be overly suspicious of peoples intentions, and I am more concerned with theft then I am harassment.

I’ve seen it happen too, the unwanted attention or a misread signal leads to women being harassed by men.  It’s crazy in some way how non-stop it really can be, and I don’t envy women for having to be on guard for danger so much.  It’s this crazy situation where the threats are so much greater because it’s not just your things or your life, its other atrocious acts like assault and rape that comes to their mind.  This is something people have to look out for in their day to day life, not even just when they are traveling or abroad.  That’s why groups are so important, and something like walking to your car in the middle of the night can be more of an endeavor than simply walking down the street.

But in the spirit of trying to explain a male perspective on things, I am going to steer the topic back.  Fear is something for a guy that is thought as something to be conquered.  We throw ourselves headfirst into situations where courage becomes the only currency.  I have an appreciation for the fact that I don’t feel in danger all the time, or that I am in a state where I feel like a target is regularly painted on my back.  I think in some ways, that’s why (not to get all white knight-y) we are called to defend. To lessen the fear of others by putting ourselves between the fear and the fearing.  Since we do not have to worry the world constantly, we can spend time helping others feels safe too.

Safety is something that comes from being able to walk down the street and not have to worry about the world trying to harm you, and I believe we all should try and work together to make the world a safe place for as many people as possible.

Linkin Park:​ Reanimated

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Originally there was going to be a different post here today but in light of the more recent events, I decided to postpone it to write about the recent tragedy of the death of Chester Bennington and the loss Linkin Park’s bandmate and singer.

You see, I’m sure like most of the people of my generation, Linkin Park’s music proliferated their childhood. Whether or not you were a fan, their notably different types of music stemming from many different genres made them unique and memorable. They continued to push the envelope and play the music that they wanted to play, even when there was a backlash from their fans.

My memory though stretches back to a Christmas where I received my first ever album for Christmas. It was a band that I really knew nothing about but would soon become intimately aware. My sistered received their first album ‘Hybrid Theory’ and I received their remix album ‘Reanimation’.  In putting it in the first time, it was my first taste of a   musical theme from an artist.  Up until then, most of the music I was aware of was either one of my parents or things I had heard off the radio.  Uploading it to my computer, I just remember playing the album over and over, discovering my taste for that type of music.

The music stuck with me, they were my favorite band for many years, taking me through the hardships of my youth, playing songs on loop until they felt part of my very soul. It was a type of music that I felt understood me. The different vibe it gave with rock, electronic, pop, and rap all squished together made me experience all sorts and different types of sound I didn’t know I liked hearing. I followed their albums and resonated with their songs. Watching for release dates and even downloading their app.

As I changed, so did they.  Their sound continued to evolve into a push into different avenues and for a while, I continued to follow. Eventually, our paths diverged, not out of dissatisfaction or distaste but the venturing into other avenues of music that they introduced me to. I no longer knew when their albums would drop, and I hadn’t listened to all of their songs anymore, and yeah that might make me not a very great fan anymore but I never saw their constantly changing sound as a bad thing. It is an exploration and evolution. Though it might not be what I want to listen to on repeat any more, it’s something I still respect.

With the death of Chester, is the death of part of their sound. I don’t know what the future holds for the rest of the band and I hope and pray for the best for his family.  I do know many people out there have experienced something similar to me in regards to their music. And with the help of their music, it helped save many peoples lives.

Linkin Park will always be my first favorite band, a band most of their albums I know by heart. They will be the band I first felt like understood me, the first one that pumped me up to start to change my life, the first one that helped me through rejection from a girl, the first one to make me feel less alone in the universe.  Their songs live in my memory and in my soul, etched there by many moments I spend listening to their sound.

I want to  Thank You Linkin Park, and Thank You, Chester, you changed my life for the better, I just wish I could have done for you the same. For now, with your death, it feels like that burning inside just got Reanimated.

Moving Through

I feel in this place
A sense of calm
As if I had been lost in the forest
Trying to find a way to get through
And bustling and blustering
And freaking out
But now I see the path
and I am moving to it
As if I am okay with where I am going
And how I am getting there
I just have to get to the path
And I’ll be home free

Lessons On Adulthood

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I think I finally understand what it means to be an adult.  It’s that feeling of not knowing what you are doing, but having to do it anyways. The strange thing is, is that regardless of the training you get, and how much you might prepare for it when you are emersed in the situation it always feels a bit different than what we are told. It’s a matter of then embracing that feeling and doing our best to resolve this situation.  I think that’s the difficulty sometimes, there is no guidance to follow, and when people tell you that they can’t be decided for you that’s because it’s true, how are you suppose to be able to tell someone to live if there are so many different paths to take.  I think that the lessons are how to cope with this abundant change and lack of guidance are the ones we need for the future.

There also comes a time when it feels like the curtain is being pulled back like the whole show is demystified right before your eyes. The magic seems less like magic and more like years of hard work. This isn’t a negative thing because it means that with a little bit of elbow grease and a lot of time, anything is possible. It has a way of trying to destroy the idea of magic in the world, which magic is that can make life a lot more worthwhile and enjoyable.  The other part of that is that at the time when you pull back the curtain you find this everything is built makeshift and in all sorts of different directions. No one really understands why it was made the way it was, but we keep doing it because it always been done that way.

Point being there is some sort of arbitrariness to being an adult. The question as to why something is the way it is a lot of the time comes down to what time and resources you had at the time.  This revelation is something that confuses me a bit because, on one hand, it lends itself to the incredible nature of human ingenuity to come up with ideas and workarounds for our most complex problems. On the contrary, though.. it gives some insight as to what most of our institutions may actually be, a set of good intentions and effort stacked on what we may think we know at the time.  At times decisions are driven by a purely utilitarian nature, something is done that way because it was easiest, or it was done because it conveys a sense of style or familiarity like when decisions are made because someone thought that way is best. As with our minds, we travel and create roads and inpaths to make things more robust, more secure but making our decisions less fluid in the process. We live upon the shoulders of giants, but we are also cursed to live by their decisions.

Being an adult takes a lot of work, a lot of effort to do it successfully.  Even through all its really absurd nature, it’s a challenge that either drives us to grow or defeats us.  As I grow up, I can see that I am learning and growing along the way.  Hopefully, the world doesn’t feel so arbitrary by the end of it all and that one day I can help the next generation grow and learn just like I am.

Hot Summer Afternoon

It was the small crease in her dress that drew my eye. It crumpled slightly in the middle as she leaned her head on her arm. A small sunflower flower pattern covered the dress made a radiate yellow hue that shined brightly whenever the sun would hit it.

Underneath peaked a pure white tank top that stuck to her skin outlining its shape. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and her face glistened from the beads of sweat that have started to form on that hot summers day.  She might have been in the shade but you can tell she was warm by the way she was breathing.

Her eyes were illuminated by the screen she held, like a portable dopamine dump, they seemed transfixed on the screen as her whole face had a serious but relaxed look to it.  Her hands flicked, poked, and prodded the screen but her face never changed and her eyes never moved.

A moment seemed like an eternity on that hot summer afternoon.

The Ballad Of Delusion And Madness

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Today I want to tell you part of a story.

Imagine the scene, eighth-grade year, the last year of what be the school that this barely even teenage kid had devoted seven long years to.  This kid was by no means a stellar student or popular. He had to deal with all the crap that comes with not being particularly liked, but at this point, he was more than happy to have others to share that dark spotlight with. Truth be told, he was more concerned with keeping his head down and out of the way than with trying to stand out. Let me tell you, that’s hard for a kid who’s a bit too zealous with asking questions and answering them especially if that boy has a tinge of awkwardness that follows him around like a cloud.  Either way, the year was almost over, high school was on the horizon, but a great debate about the future seems to lurk around every corner. He seems okay but underneath it all,  he’s being crushed by the weight of a decision that ultimately isn’t even his.
You see, his parents are divorced and separated by miles and miles of road which was perfect for the moment. Great until it becomes time for something to spark a change. To ignite a wildfire through their lives. Their sin, love for their children and pride. It would send earthquakes and aftershocks in the future, but neither of them knew that at the time. All they knew is that there was a wind blowing and change coming and they wanted was the favorable wind.
With types of fights, the large hand of justice looms overhead and intervenes for the sake of “the children.”  Setting up arbitration and evaluation to determine what is right and what is good, the decision is quick, but the process is not.  A member of that hand comes to observe and report what should be and what is.  Writing notes and recommendations about where this future should go, and what direction it will take. I wonder what they saw though, especially for this boy. Did they capture all the loneliness he felt? Did the capture his alienation?  Did that hand understand what it mean to be him and how that all he wanted to do was escape into a different world that might be able to understand him a bit better? He even wondered if they were looking.
Adding on top of this multitude of problems is youth.  You see, the poor kid started developing a crush.  A crush on a girl who didn’t go to his school but was the first one who he felt gave him the time of day.  Someone who seemed excited to talk to him or wanted to hang out. This was all new to him, he needed guidance so unlike what he is used to, he sought help, unlike he’s used to, people wanted to help him. For once in his life he felt like this might work out. A seeming oasis from his tribulation, he felt like with his peers helping him he didn’t have to be alone.
But that’s just the setup for the final act, the set up that would ultimately fall like dominos one by one.
So here we are, the beginning of May and the final piece that comes to play is set up.  Courage and love. The boy finally works it up, after much thought and deliberation he hatched a plan with his peers to finally chase after what he wanted.  To ask a question of the girl he didn’t know the answer to.  He decided it would be at the annual school festival, he knew she would be there. At the annual school festival, so would everybody else.
So there we are, a morning of the day that he is nervous. Adrenalin takes hold as he makes his way alone to the school.  Fun, games, and people all around. Laughter, and noise filling the air along with the smell of baked goods and grilled meat.  He was there that he knew there was no backing out now, he felt the power of the world behind him, and he couldn’t let them down.  So by the time the afternoon came, he found the girl wanted to question.  By the late afternoon, he was ready for what he thought the answer would be.  But hardly ever are expectation and reality something that goes hand in hand.    It was then he found out she had a boyfriend, it was then he knew thing weren’t going to work out.  It was then things began to crumble. It was then he needed help.
Where did he go for it? He went to his peers.  Some offered a small condolence, but the boy searched for the people that helped him. He searched for the ones who spent all this time helping him along the way.  But what he found was nothing, not a care or a word.   What the boy didn’t know is that the kid of the moment became old news.  He was no longer interesting, so there was no need to care.
This is when he began to fracture, this is when he began to see the breaks within.  He put on a tough face but after it all, he walked home through the night, tears flowing from his eyes wish it would all just go away.
The domino had fallen, sending rest of them falling down the line. The cogs began turning, and the world changed slowly.  Soon enough the decisions by the looming hand of justice were being made. For high school, it chose for him. For his schedule, it chose for him. Where he would be living, it chose for him.  This looming hand was determining the course of his life.  What again was it that he wanted, after it all, he didn’t even know anymore.
His parents bumbled and blustered, even though the spent all that time beating and bruising each in the court room never really got what the wanted.  Each decision wore away a bit of the boy, who at this point was already broken.  He felt like a rock in the desert slowly being eroded away, day after day with no end.  Soon, all that was left was void, a void where he threw all his emotions and feelings. He felt empty, and this made him content.

After it all they made him go see a therapist, in hopes of reducing the damage they had caused him.  But it was too late, the kid had built himself a mask, a mask to show the world what they wanted to see, a mask that would save him the trouble of having to worry about being exposed because if everything seemed alright, then nobody asked questions. If he could mimic human life, then he can live in this void forever. The therapist thought the boy was fine, the boy thought the therapist needed someone to talk to so they talked about him. Soon enough the boy was out to clean bill of health but just as empty as ever.
As the dust settled the kid wore that mask, and for a long time, all he felt was nothing.

That’s not where the story ends for the boy, there more to come. How those events will shape the boy. Events that helped set him down that spiral downward.
Again, this isn’t the end of the story, just a part. So if you could wait until next week to hear the end and what happens to the boy with the mask, I’ll be there to finish it.