General

Recharge

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I think people believe that I can be around people all day. Not an unsubstantiated belief because for most of the day, you will find me around and talking to others.  I do though run out of steam, and in those moments I need to draw back and fold into myself.

I’ve just been feeling tired lately, and it’s not just because of the atrocious sleeping schedule that I have adopted but because I haven’t had that time to recharge and be by myself.  I haven’t made this time and with the coming and going of projects and events the last day I had to myself was over a month ago.  I have a high tolerance, but eventually, I do run out of steam. This is a massive problem because it causes me to fall behind, not be involved like I could. I am not able to give 100% because my batteries are only partially recharged. So my health, my work, and those around me I need this time to just be me. There are only so many days that I can follow this intense routine before the routine itself starts to break down, and I start to resent all that holds me together

 

What do I do, write, read, sleep, nothing really spectacular. Sometimes I watch shows, but there is a hesitation because what if I get too involved. I used to play video games, but with my schedule, I am worried I will become too immersed in it.  It’s almost not fair or healthy that I keep giving these things up for my degree.  What I do narrows, to the point where I find myself staring out of windows, losing myself in the horizon.  I know it’s about balance, but I have to do what I can to survive.

This though presupposes a problem.  That what I doing, resisting these urges to play will ultimately catch up to me.  It’s like when the people in your life make you choose between two things that you love, even though you will still end up with what you want, the cost of the other weights down on your decision.  If you do this enough, it will eat away at you, just like it’s starting to eat away at me.  To the point where I get so drained that my mind can’t move forward unless I stop.

I need these moments because they are like precious nutrients to keep my days from becoming carbon copies of each other.  To keep me inspired and moving forward. I had a day earlier this week that I got these nutrients, and the whole next day it felt like I was on top of the world.  It didn’t last long, that night I had to spend my night working long hours to get my work done. This day gave me something though, hope. Hope for what could be if I figure this thing out.  So like the scientist I aspire to be, I will test this, and make it work.  Find out where I can recharge these batteries so when the time comes, I will have the energy to be the all of me that I want to be.

 

Meta Self Contemplation

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I started this blog a long time ago with the intended purpose to think and put into writing aspects of my life.  It was always something I had wanted to do, keep a record of things as I go from place to place.  The record of my life as it is for both people to read and to go back on to find the steps I have taken on this journey. The motivation came from different sources, the deterioration of my personal relationships, the darkening of my outlook, my desire to change and be open with the world.  It has been what fueled me, but I have fallen short of my goals in some ways, though I keep at it, hoping to find the light out in the darkness.

I write because I like to write and think about my life.  It’s what I am good at, or at least thats what people tell me. I have been thinking about my life since I began to think, always wondering if those insignificant moments that pass me by would mean anything to me, if the person who lived through those moments would be remembered or evaporate like the morning dew from the onset of the heat of the day. I have largely kept these thoughts a secret,  for the scars on my heart seal up words within as a way to protect my being from the onslaught of unwanted spotlights.

This perspective changed though in my recollection of a midnight reflection, suffering in the silence over the lady I loved.  I sat there under the starlight in the quiet stillness of the early hours breaking down, unable or maybe unwilling to change.  I needed to do something, both for myself and for those around me, I needed to win and break out of this tumultuous cycle of inability.  So what did I do, the last thing most people would think I would do, write. I wrote because I could. I wrote because needed to. I wrote because every ounce of my being told me to.

So I fought towards the light, and though I lost much, I learned a lot.  In this journey, I ripped and sewed together pieces of myself in the hopes of righting all that I am, so in the future, I could walk taller than I did that day.  Each word I wrote was a struggle, years of grammatical challenges don’t bode well for self-confidence. But here I am and here I think, I have I really laid myself bare upon the page? Have really reconstructed myself from within.  Old problems still arise and each time I am given an opportunity to change, and truth be told, I fail more than I would like but I keep walking.

What is the point of this message then, what have I learned.  I have talked about being open and honest and yet at the keys I avoid or soften these truths about myself in fear and loathing, in pride and “protection”.  I know this keeps me from truth, and liberty of these thoughts and feelings.  It keeps me from really pouring my heart onto a page.  You can’t filter out your soul and expect people to feel it.

I will change that though, now:

I am a mixture of self-confident, and self-depreciating, never letting me fly too high because I am worried about the fall, but also crushed when I miss my opportunity in be in the sky
I am afraid of my scars and memories, I flinch when coming across old moments and triggers. I reminds me of who I was and I fear if I stay to long I will return to this powerless younger self. I spend time moving through to heal but I still feel the marks on my soul.
I try to be a good friend and family member, and it is a work in progress. Years of trying to distance yourself from other people has that affect on you.
I love from the bottom of my heart everyone one in my life.  I could be from the shattered self-esteem of my youth but in growing into who I am has taught me to appreciate those moments I have with other people because in my eyes they are you are your own personal miracle.
I am bad at telling people how I feel about them.
I just want to help people, know what it’s like to suffer and struggle, know you are not alone and I am here to give what I can.
I am bad at asking for help.
I am afraid I am not enough great things, that I am destined for mediocrity.
Whenever I think I am smart, the universe seems to want to remind me that I am not as smart as I think I am.
I have been through major depression twice in my life.
I have been through major depression twice in my life.
For a long time, I was afraid to love because of a worry that it will never be as deep and full as the love I had before.
I don’t understand why people like more or want to be around me.
I don’t believe people when they tell me I look nice.
I honestly just like being a nice person, no strings attached.
I sincerely believe that anyone is capable of pretty much anything, the bad, and the great alike, you just need to find your way of doing it.
I am religious (Catholic), and I don’t really know why I just like it and I am still trying to figure it out.
I like to learn about politics and listen to new opinions, but to be honest, I think most of what people are saying is kinda stupid, nothing is black and white and yet most of politics treats the world that way.
I believe most people want to do good out there in the world and are innately good.
I do have common sense.
I want to be one of the great minds of the twenty-first century.
My greatest fear is to be forgotten.

In laying this out, I hope to clear this veneer that lays between me and my thoughts.  I want to be better, so I will do it, one step at a time.

 

To Touch The Sun

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Always so close, I reach out and try and touch that perfect ball in the sky, but as it seems, it still slightly out of reach.  When will I be able to grab it and make it mine, when will I touch it and finally obtain perfection? Will these waxwings hold up long enough to reach, or will the sun always be meant for those who were born to touch it?

I know the notion of perfection is more of a novel pursuit than an achievable goal.  Even when I get there, I will always think about how I could have done it better or where the next bar is.  Then again this type of thinking might be keeping me from achieving my elusive desire.
It confuses me, in my humanity, I find the varied levels of flaws that make us beautiful but see the skill and determination to overcome these flaws to achieve something real.  Watching practiced experts and driven people accomplish these feats of seeming perfection only to fall short constantly myself and fall into frustration.  Like the analogous frog at the bottom of the well, wondering how much to jump before I learn to fly.

Truth is, I screw up way more than I would like.  Fall short, and never entirely getting there, this repeated failure is starting to gripe on me.  It’s frustrating me to no end that I can never get through anything without making a mistake.
Maybe it’s practice I need or patience.  Maybe it’s confidence or talent.  Maybe there is something inside of me that keeps me from achieving this ridiculous goal, and that something was embedded in my very soul. I just don’t know, and it shouldn’t bother me, but it does.  Why can’t it just be 100% right, why must there be cracks and nicks in these foundations?  How can I build if I know that at any given moment it can fall because of my mistakes?

I feel fractured, weathered, and worn, like a forgotten statue beat by the sands of times, eroding and missing pieces so its once true self is lost and all you can see is a resemblance of what could have been.  I know this is dramatic, but this seeping frustration kneads itself into my heart.

It is an unrealistic standard that will only play as a detriment to my future. If I am only worried about perfection, then the mountain of work will become sheer and unclimbable because each move will be individually meticulous. It’s always about that balance because the sky is not only filled with the sun but also the cloud. Clouds which are formless and beautiful in their own right.  I want things to be perfect but choosing where to put this effort to reach out, and where to let the wind take me is all part of life.

 

To St. Patrick’s Day (Late)

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Dear St. Patricks Day,

You know I have always loved you. You’ve been the representation of a culture that has always opened the door for me. From the generation of my grandmother, you have shown me nothing but acceptance, even in the days of my darkest identity crisis. St. Patrick, though I know your history, you represent so much more. Each and every year you come in the midsts of the season of Fasting, but an indulgence in you feels nothing like a sin. It’s an acceptance, a proving grounds of blood ties that I know flows through my veins. It’s the unquestioning nature of this aspect of myself that I find serenity, like a cornerstone on which I can build a future.  It’s in knowing you that I know the lack of my other identities, from their sliding and uneasy nature fall away and I reach that small serenity.
Oh St. Patrick, you are called so well, the holiday of a people’s who live across the sea.  We share in that connection, we share in that praise because we know that we will be together with you at the end of our days.  We can connect, and be free, it’s what this holiday represents to me.
And here are my final words for such an important day, it doesn’t matter where you come from, or where you might be going, it doesn’t matter how much money you make, or how you might be born, as long as we celebrate together, you can become a little Irish too.

Most Sincerely,
Me

How To Cultivate A Thought Parasite

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It’s happened again, these crises of the mind and spirit.  I feel it in my bones, fear. What am I to do. The rising tide of anxiety washes over me, drowning me it’s dense waters. Leaving me gasping for air in the cold abyss of failure. Grasping for air, and hoping to get out.

This past week I was confronted by the smallest of the invasive thoughts that fed and grew in the back of my mind quickly.  It’s the lack of sleep I said, or perhaps the hunger.  I’ve just been pushing myself too hard, but that’s it’s breeding grounds.  When my mental defenses are lowered, it strikes at me, claiming more and more of my brain, consuming me and my thoughts.  There I am, battling against the creature who uses the voice in my head to try and convince me that I am no good. Trying to convince me to lay down again and begin to die.

It often follows those highs of experience, I know mine does. This one came after a let a small daydream free, and it became a nightmare.  The thoughts in my mind surging after this mental parasite to stop the spread but it was already too late, it implanted itself in my insecurities of the past, fertile ground for a thought so sweet. A feeling of grandeur turns to ash as my capability comes into question.  “You will never be good enough to get this far,” it says,  “Turn back, collapse, you know your just setting yourself up to fail.” I don’t know what to do, the foundation I build for myself feels more and more like a house of cards teetering on the precipice of collapse.  What is this, will it be good enough. My path once more becomes obscured and dark.  How far will I be able to go, and even if I give it my all, will that be enough?

I realize I’ve invested now, that was my mistake.  I am invested in a future I want so bad that my heart cries out to me as I speak it.  This is where I went wrong, didn’t your childhood teach you not to do this. Not to invest in one way or another because you will be let down again and again. I can’t help myself, I want it so bad that I am willing to give all away for a second in that world.  A passion that erupts and drives me forward, that want’s to turn into the crazed obsession of a madman with a purpose and a goal.

“You just are strong enough” it retorts, “You never have been, and you never will be.”  This thought, drawing back blow after blow to strike at me is right.  I feel like I’ve had so many chances and through these chances I have successfully squandered my dream in the pretense of comfort and mediocrity.  I just hope, time after time, hour after hour, that I will wash away these inadequacies and show the world that I am someone. I don’t know though, my guard is down, and my weakness is revealed, my self-esteem takes a blow. All I am is human, and maybe I am not enough.

Truth is I am weak.  I am weak and at times incapable.  I am an emotional creature who waxes and wanes on the mood of the day. At times unable because of the wall of inability that rises up ahead of me. I’m loud and think before I speak.  I sometimes say some funny things and do even weirder ones. My brain fills up sometimes, and I feel like an idiot because I don’t understand what is going on.  I know this, this is just what it’s like to be human. I know this limitation, and that’s okay because that’s all we all are. Being human, and together we can actually do some good and make life beautiful. As long as I know that, I will be okay. As as I know that, I can get rid of the parasitic thought in my brain.

Plane Musings

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Time. Here I wish the day stretched one more hour, to have moments perhaps that will slow down and stop. Remembering to stop and breathe has never been so conscious to me before. I find these moments in the cracks of disroutine. When I deviate from my ordinary plan to step into the present and not live in the constantly unfolding future. What I need is a little time, little time to remember to look at the sky and remember how lovely the cloud look.

I’m sitting on a plane when writing this, a plane that is crossing the United States for the distinct purpose of transporting 100 people with all different lives and intentions to its destination. Intention fuels this plane, pays for its gas, keeps the employees employed, an intention that can’t be touched but malleable like the air I float on. I am on this journey in an attempt to move closer to my dream. A dream that remains unrealized, but finally appearing within reach. These next few days, though not critical in the fulfillment of my dream will drive push me to exhaustion in an attempt to extract every last ounce of potential form it. It’s here, 30,000 feet above the world staring down at the clouds below that I know that I have to make the most of these little moments, to make it possible for me to be successful in the big ones.

I wish I had more time to stop, and breath to be honest. Everything feels so crucial essential right now, though I understand that I have a type of tunnel vision of my goals. Even if I did have an extra hour in the day, I don’t know if I would be using it to rest, more likely, I would be using my energy to push myself even harder than before, with proportionally less time to recover. I know this is problematic, but I finally feel like I am where I should be and doing what I should do. My endless hope is that at the end of it all, with all the work I put in, I will finally get what I want. If not, well, I guess I will figure it out then.

One day I want to be that person everyone looks to surpass, the milestone that people look to exceed. I want people to see me not just what I have done but how I inspired others too. That I know is something that will only come with time. I hope one day I’ll look back at this moment and smile because that’s exactly what I did.

The Wall of Dreams

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I’ve seen it now, the wall that I am to defeat. The one on the far end of the frontier of ability, at the edge of talent, and potential.  I saw but a glimpse of it, that day when I reached the end of where my body allowed me to go.  I saw it, the sheer concrete slap that rises high above the treeline of my life.  It’ stands there as a challenge to goad me in attempting to scale its heights. It was there, far off in the horizon that I saw it, almost mythical off in the distance, but as I closed my eyes it was gone, but I know I will see it again, but next time I will be stronger in its presence, next time I will where to begin.

If there is anything about this past year that has stood out to me, is the number of times I have gotten sick.  For a guy who regularly gets only ill once per year this past year has been a wake-up call that something is changed that my body doesn’t agree with.  It’s doesn’t take a genius to make the observation that going back to school has taken its toll on me.  This last time getting sick, I realized I am pushing myself too hard without letting my body recover.  The stress, lack of stable sleep, new exercise regiment, and irregular eating habits are great at breaking down my body but only time, rest, and taking care of myself are the only defense to this destruction.

This time was different, I felt so unable, so weak. I had come so far as to put out all these fires in my life but when it came to working progressively toward my father off goals, I was unable.  I am expending so much energy and had nothing left to give. It’s a strange feeling, having worked up to that point but feeling so powerless to keep going but I wanted to keep stretching my arms out for just a little bit more.  It wasn’t a feeling I liked, a helplessness to it, a bittersweetness of knowing I have reached this point because I am only human but knowing I can learn to do so much more because I am human.   As I laid down to recover in my short reprieve from work, I thought about how I can become better at this, which ways I can be more efficient at this. How can I strip everything down to rebuild myself stronger? In the moments before fading to sleep, I think of the things that allow me to keep going, the things that keep my mind sane as my body breaks down. The things which in sacrificing would feel like destroying parts of myself. I hold these things sacred because they are a sanctuary, a resting place for me to catch my breath. Where I can finally let myself recover from the torrent and the storm.

What I would like to say is I am thankful to all the people in my life that I can take a moment to talk to, for however long the conversation may be, it offers a reprieve from the insanity.  It gives me strength knowing that ultimately there is love in the world like this that may bloom in the moments of small connections like a wildflower after the rain. I may only see you once, but your beauty leaves a lasting mark. With all the strength I get from you, I  dare to dream of conquering the wall in my life, the one in which the fulfillment of my dreams lies on the other side of.  There I will be happy knowing I didn’t do it alone, I was fortunate to bring a little piece of everyone with me.

The Other Side Of Productivity

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Wednesday, I made it past Wednesday. When for me the worlds I am apart of collided and asked something of me. The culmination of all I had been working towards for the last couple of months.  Through all the writing, papers, reading, work, paper, tests, and discussions. The last couple of weeks have left me wasted, pushing to the point my eyes are becoming adverse to my computer screen. There were so many tabs and applications open, that it was hard to keep track of what I was doing at any given moment. At the end of it all, I got sick which I am taking as a sign to take a second and pace myself. That my body is not keeping up with what I want to do in my mind. This is the other side of that, what happens after.

For some reason I can find the space, my mind keeps wandering from place to place, as if it needs to do something but doesn’t know what to do, I have a bunch of tasks, but none of them seem ripe for the moment. It’s kind of like an uncomfortable silence, where you know you need to speak, and yet the silence itself is telling you so much.  I finally have time to write for myself, to think for myself, and to do for myself that I don’t know what to do first.  I’ve gotten so behind on it all, I used to be 4 weeks ahead writing and now I have to rush to write it in each week.  I am trying to eat correctly but hands don’t readily reach for the skillet to cook because it almost seems like too much effort. I lay in bed for a little while longer, hoping my body will recover so I can do it all again.

I hate being out like this, but if there is something to learn its from this moment. Slow down, enjoy yourself, keep pushing forward but also take time to take care of yourself. This is a bit different than my transcend post last time, but still, both are good. It’s about balancing these two things because it’s in the balance I find that sweet spot of happiness where I can be silly and productive too.

I know this post is a bit scattered and not as well thought out, but that’s just kinda where I’m at the moment. Also, I have yet to take new photos so I am running out so bear with me if there are so repeats. Lastly, the world seems to be messing with me and my body and I have to play along, or it will try to destroy me.

Transcend​.

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I find myself here often now, this place of mounting frustration for the limitations of myself. I know, I can’t be everything,  I am trying so hard to be something, something more than I ever thought possible.

This all leads back to a belief I have, the belief that anyone is capable of anything.  That the legacy of humanity is founded on the word “can”.  Generations built on the idea that we can push farther and further than the generation before creating scaffolding for those who will come after.  It is up to us to build our lives in the way we see fit.

I find trouble though, in this belief as it causes me pain.  I find myself in pain when my hands have stopped moving, my eyes begin to close and fade, when everything winds down to a still. My mind reminds me of the people who keep going, who push through, and are continuing to walk along the path ahead of me.  It’s then I have the fight within my head, between the two voices that cry out from within. One yelling “Go! Do! There is still much to be done!” and the other crying “Stay! Wait! We need a second for air!”. My life feels like the result of the battle of these two forces trying to out-compete the other.
I want to keep going, I know I have to if I want to accomplish all I want to do during the short period of my life.  Diligence and discipline are required.  As with all things, I feel though I come up short of my goal, of my potential still. I keep grabbing at my future but never reaching the bar to know I have got there.  At times I feel as if I could only set aside myself, drive my being to its limits, to really push the boundaries of my existence, then perhaps I could be satisfied.
The thought pops into my head, a small analogy that takes presents itself as a colder truth.  To strive is to bleed, to bleed out of yourself, to suffer for your dreams, to push past the pain of these long nights and lonely hours.  It’s in some sick way what I want, to feel like I am finally putting my heart and soul into something.  The feeling of giving up everything I am and becoming if not for a moment 100% of something. A being of directed madness and constructive obsession. Maybe then I can say that I’m not making excuses for anything, that I can look in the mirror and see the sacrifice etched upon my face. Maybe then, I can finally rest.

I’m tired, my body is tired, my mind is tired and all I want is rest. I keep going, keep pushing, because I know if I do a little bit more than I might be able to grasp the thing I seek. I find peace within my heart but drive within my head.
I sit there in the quiet moments as my body ache and my mind fogs, I feel a mounting frustration as I reach the limitations of my body. There, I say to myself, one more, just do one more thing, push yourself farther than you’ve ever been before.

Just one more.

Transcend.

Frisson

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frisson:  a brief moment of emotional excitement : shudder, thrill

This word, for me it symbolizes for me a moment that I feel when my heart reaches down and touches the world.  Pure emotion, profound emotion seeps into me as the overwhelming feeling of being alive makes itself known.

The best way I can describe it is an experience you are so enveloped by music, movie or book and you lose yourself for a moment.  You forget where you are, and whatever you are doing becomes the only thing that exists for a moment.  A silence, as you travel to another world or place and it becomes real for that one moment.
The feeling transcribes itself onto your soul so that you become so enveloped by it you don’t even care that it wasn’t your feeling, to begin with.  You share the pain, the elation, the sorrow, the untold happiness, and tragedy. You get goosebumps all over, standing on end in anticipation of the moment where the emotion comes home and strikes at your heart.  It’s silly, but it’s as real as it can get. For a moment, you are given a crystal clear view of an unspoken truth that unites hearts, and overwhelms you with the depth of our mysterious existence.

I found about about this word on accident, perusing the archives of the internet, I followed it down the rabbit hole until I found a word that explained something that I had felt for a long time.  The word came to describe this feeling I sometimes chase, this sense of being alive.  It has since become one of my favorite words.

The reason for this is there are some days when I begin to lose myself, at times life leaves me feeling empty, emotionless and flat.  Where everything begins to dim and become faded, and my emotions feel muted. It’s these moments where I seek this frisson, this passion that makes me feel human again.  Though it gets me into the bad habit of watching great profound and sometimes tragic moments from my favorite media, for me, it’s a lesson that life will go on and that at the end of the day, I am only human and that’s more than beautiful enough for me.

 

I would love for those who are reading this to post some of the things that make you feel this way.
Some of the examples of mine are:
Charlie Chaplin’s Speech from the Great Dictator
Last battle speech from Lord of the Rings: Return of the King
and (without spoilers)
The end of the 10th Doctor from Dr. Who
And the end of some anime:
5 Centimeters Per Second
Ana Hana
Your Lie In April