Convert To Humanity

I’ve gone to church for all of my life.  Mass after mass every Sunday,  learning about what to do, how to do it, and what is the righteous path. Growing up in the church makes people a bit apathetic, less responsive, and less zealous. I can remember sitting in the pews when I was younger, dosing off as the something akin to muscle memory took me through the motions.  Responses and prayers at that point just become words and empty ritual that your hearts not into (not the best way to practice religion).
It was in these brief periods of dozing that I realized there were a group of people who had all the love and faith to put into the mass, who hung on every word. They would sit in anticipation for the next lesson, and always have a distinct reverence for God, and be the loudest voices when it came to singing and praying.  These people I would find out later usually converted to the religion. People who ultimately chose to be there, not because of some familial obligation or routine, but because they found exactly what they were looking for. As I got older, I had always had a great deal of respect for them, because it’s their zeal that I aspire to.

It was around age 7 when if you wanted to find me I would be in one of two places, staring at a screen in the living room, or watching a screen in my bedroom.  It’s not that I was particularly antisocial, but I had always felt more comfortable with a monitor in front of me.  If I wasn’t at school or with friends that was what I was doing.  Video games and cartoons were my life, a consistency that I sought, and for some time, the only consistency I had.  I wasn’t much for humanity, people were fun to be around, but I always guarded myself against them. For a while there I didn’t understand the appeal of people, though at times I enjoy being around them, I always defaulted back to that life in front of the screen. People and I seemed to be on a very different wavelength so when was playing video games it was my home, it was my haven, where I would go to escape into the world I felt like I might actually belong to.
As I grew older, the feeling of something missing within me began to grow.  Though video games and anime were fun, they ultimately could only provide a mostly superficial experience.  No matter how far I delved to fill this part of myself, I was never really satisfied completely.  I doubled down, how can something that had sustained me for this long suddenly be lacking. Hundreds of episodes, countless games, and hours staring at the backlit screen of a laptop, I needed something to change, but for a while nothing did.
It was much later when I started to see the value in those types of relationships we foster. It took a while for that desire to spread root within me. It was then that my love of humanity began to grow because it was something I realized I wanted to be a part of, something I knew would make me feel more complete and alive. I wanted to know as much as I could about this group that I seemed strangely distant from. I wanted to be apart humanity because I finally accepted I was human.

When I think about why I believe in humanity so much, in the goodness of man, the greatness of our capability.  I realize, I chose to be part of this miraculous people and have fallen in love with our antics.  It’s a zeal I find reminiscent to those converts to religion. I sing out praised of humanity and acknowledge their shortfalls. I find that I love people because doing so makes me feel whole. It birthed a passion that I can’t live without.

At the end of it, I believe in how great people can be.  I have always been a lover of history, and it has always been enough evidence to show me how much we can accomplish if we really push ourselves. Within the last century athletes, academics and activists have pushed the boundary and advanced our society beyond people hundreds of years ago would be able to fathom.  Though there are times in which we follow a misguided or evil path, we always show a high capability to learn and grow.  Our greatest strength is to adapt and teach others a better way and strive for a better future. I am a convert to humanity, a believer in our purpose, I will sing our songs to the heavens and hang on every lesson.

The World In The Life Of A Guy: Part 1 -Sex

Written on my wall since high school is a simple question printed on a label maker. “What Makes A Man?” it says.  This ambiguous question, with no clear answer, is something that I come back to regularly as I contend with realities of the world. Hearing stories about what men are capable of both good and bad makes me question what type of person I want to be. Over the last several months I’ve been posing questions to people around me about their interactions with men. The answers I received were confusing and at points horrifying. I want to show you what it’s like for a regular guy out there in the world, one who doesn’t necessarily know if he is an outlier or the rule.

Sex, it always starts with sex. A stupid place to start but a grand motivator for most men.  Guys will usually have a story about something they do or have done because of girl. I among them found my love of running because of a girl in high school telling me she liked guys with runners bodies. As I get older, this departs from the much more innocent motivations of young; a desire to get from point A to point B as quickly as possible is found. Guys are motivated by sex.  I can’t honestly deny this, what changes is willingness fight against this all-consuming emotion to find a higher ground to stand on.  In our mind, sex it presses up against us, invading our thoughts and without strong mental fortitude it wins out the day. It whispers fantasies and delusions into our ear, denying that reality in which we are for one that could possibly be if you were to play the game right. That is no way to condemn us to being sex fiends, but something we must contend with.  That inner strength is what I find as being the man is all about.  The ability to put these thoughts and feelings aside for something that is much greater than the hedonistic vices of sex can provide me.

It’s that relationship, though, between guys and gals that so intertwined with this dynamic that it becomes bogged down but the tension between friendship and sexuality.  From When Harry Met Sally, a movie about a man and woman attempting to have a friendship that eventually turns into a romantic relationship, even the one of the protagonists clearly states that he doesn’t believe men and women can be friends because sex will get in the way. This idea was foreign to me, why can’t we foster and hold relationships with people of the opposite gender?  It’s within the expectations that are held, the way we picture things when I say I have a relationship with a guy friend versus a girl friend. Not to mention the amount of narratives I’ve heard from women of always having to be wary of ulterior motives when entering a friendship with a guy.  With all I’ve heard, the hesitation is warranted.  Love is a drug, and we are addicts, so if you need a fix, you’ll try to get it from anywhere. 

Do I believe we different from the previous generations of human beings in such a way that we can deviate from this cycle of sexual magnetism?
No, but I do believe in the human spirit, which can look create the world we want and I do believe in values and the ability to motivate ourselves to relationships that go beyond sexual attraction.

In this regard, I find to be the best way to end this conversation about being a guy in this sexual environment is talking about what I strive for. This comes from many hours thinking about the kinds of relationships I want to foster along with listening to troubled tales of the lost souls out there in the world. My truest goal is to find a place and strength to be able to say no to sex.  With the ability to wait and find a sense of truth beyond the physicality of it all. Don’t get me wrong intimacy has a place in every adult relationship, but I don’t want to be under the control of these feelings. It’s not to deny them,  but to find a way to curb them appropriately. The world does not revolve around sex and I shouldn’t either, I want to enjoy the world and people for who they are and not have this lingering thought in the back of my mind. It’s what I am working towards, and something I want for my relationships in the future…but hey, at the end of the day I’m “just a guy” right.

A Square Peg In A Square Hole

How do you keep yourself outside of the box? How do you keep these thoughts flowing like a stream in the spring? Can I foster this type of non-unilateral thinking?

There is a dream I have that I would be one of those people who comes up with this novel way of looking at the world. A type of perspective that widens the world of those around me.  That dream turns into a nightmare when I realize that I might not be cut out for this dream.

I look at forks in the road of how life can go, and in some ways, it’s easy to follow the set path before me, it has been well worn in. So many before I have walked these steps and gotten to where they wanted to go. Then there are paths I see which are less worn but still recognizable. Those paths may be different, and the road might be harder to follow, but from the perspective of I stand, the footprints are still warm from the person before.

The problem is taking the last path, the path that has never been taken before. Where there are no roads ahead and feet, have never tread. In a system where I like to know the laws and parameters to work within it’s those who bend and break those rules in the right way that seems to be able to push past the boundaries of what we consider doable.

In some parts I am afraid of that path, I have been taught this road can lead you to nowhere, to dead ends, and to danger. Ironically it’s that path I have to take if I want to accomplish my dream. Life has no clear way to feeling you where to go, it has many suggestions but no real stake in which direction you take. Each life we live will always be different the one of the next, and yet we feel this force that draws us together to have this type of unifying experience with each other. A way to be able to relate with one another. And maybe that is my hesitation, as it is I feel that few know me and even fewer understand me and if I keep moving away from people onto my own path I will lose that connection I have worked so hard to create. That It will no longer be understandable as to what I am trying to accomplish. I like to know things and to be taught, but I have no guide, no way to know if I am moving in the right direction. With no sense as to what direction to take, do I just step out and hope for the best?

Even now as I am typing this, it seems silly to put so much weight upon this fear, the fear to not know where which way to turn. I know the world is full of people and that there are people are like-minded all over the place, but having been without them before there is a fear just the same.
I know in the future I want to step out and act in my own way. Follow the path my feet set out for me. I will likely live differently than most people, and I will place along the road I was meant for. This is something I have and will be working on for the rest of my life.

Hey Chicago Girl

I saw you in my dreams, and it felt like you were almost real to touch, I wish I didn’t have to wake up.

We met in Chicago, a city that I haven’t been in. I just remember all the buildings looking down and in on us, slopped at the top as if they were sinking slowly into the ground.

I can’t remember how we met, might have been on the train, a plane, or maybe in a room. I just remember having to go up to you, wanting to talk and get to know you.

You were much shorter than I was, dark hair and pale skin but kind of verve in your brown eyes that lightened my spirit, no wonder after I was awoken by my cat I decided to go back to sleep to hang out with you.

Oh Chicago girl, you showed me around your neck of the woods, showed me the city you grew up in as we talked and talked, smiled and laughed, getting to know each other.  You had a cool job, and you seemed to have everything together as you moved through the world with a energy and joy. Even though it seemed like moving through a city normally, it felt like an adventure with you.

I didn’t want to leave but I knew I had to, I had the feeling as if I had a plane to catch to go back home.  I got a nagging feeling that I would regret if didn’t at least get to know her name or some way to contact her.  I decided to ignore this call to leave for back home, to spend more time with you in Chicago, squeeze out every last drop.

The night began to decend and we spent more time together. We went through a scary maze with monsters and hung out in the upstairs of a house were we both got comfortable just living life as people came and went.  I got the chance to really look at you and it made me happy, made me feel at ease.

We talked about where I’m from and you were so excited to listen, made me feel somehow exotic.  We swapped stories and ideas, when sitting across from each other.

This is when the my dream broke, and I couldn’t hang onto it much longer. I was sitting across from you but in reality the morning was calling me to awake.  You just sat there at looking at me as I was torn away from my dreams, not knowing what was happening or that I was fighting to stay.

Every moment that pass a little of you crumples away like most dreams, this one sticking with me a bit longer.  I am forgetting the features of your face, the topics of conversation, the building around us and what we were doing. I’m am holding on for as long as I can, this feeling that we shared in a dream.

Maybe I am hopeless but if your out there in the world Chicago Girl, if you are real, I would be love to share a dream with you again.

Invasion Of Thoughts

I noticing myself drifting off again, drifting into space where thoughts pervade my consciousness. Sitting there staring into the distance, imagining the horrors of existence.

It happened again, once my mind is tired from the day, or just don’t seem to have enough energy to fight off the coming storm.  It starts with a small “You can’t” and builds from there. These invasive thoughts that cross my mind like floodwater during a storm, I am helplessly trying to block the current as it drowns everything in touches.  I start to think negatively, working to fight back against this onslaught of thoughts and feelings I don’t want.  Once the gates are open, I just have to wait for the storm to end because I don’t have the endurance to fight against these persistent waves.  All I can do is watch and know that it will let up eventually.

It takes me the dark alleys of my mind and makes me deals with all the backhanded things that have ever popped up.  These are the things that don’t even come up on my radar normally but are apparent deeply seeded in my brain. Things like my fear about never amounting to anything, my hesitation with not knowing if I am on the right path, a constant stream of thoughts about not being good enough.  As a whole, these ideas throw me for a loop and even though they are not truthful, the ideas have already taken root and tied themselves to my very being. Will they go away, probably not, but will become easier to manage if I continue to work at it.

These thoughts are something I can’t avoid but at times are remedied simply by a good meal.  Makes me confused about the validity of the ideas.  I wonder if I should take them seriously and if there might be some small truth to it all aside from highlighting my insecurities. I don’t know if I should follow them down the rabbit hole or I should be weary that it might just lead me to a sewer.  The thoughts can poison a day or a make a good moment sour. Like with weeds, if unattended they multiply. Is my mind giving me a dose of reality or just some sick fantasy I never knew I had?

I snap out of it, only a moment has passed but it leaves a mark on me.  A smile that was once there disappears along with the gleam in my eyes.  It will be a little while before they truly return.  I keep at it, moving forward knowing there could be another storm waiting for me right around the corner.

A Resolute Resolution

What will I become in this new year?

I see a vividly a version of myself standing upon a hill with back faced to me.  A much larger more powerful person stands before me, confronted with the future, ready to take on the challenges of tomorrow.  He has a grin as if he knows what the future hold and how to move about it. This man standing at the other end of the year is challenging me to catch up.

Resolutions don’t work, at least no the majority of the time.  Trying to change yourself in so many ways all at once and expecting result immediately is only setting yourself up for failure. Anticipating the arrival of the new year to have some sort of bearing on how well you are able to do something is a bit silly. Moments should be grasped when the motivation is at hand, not when we feel like the motivation should come.

This is why I don’t have a resolution but a resolve. I want to be better, stronger, more compassionate and helpful. I want to be that man on the mountain I see before me, not just stuck staring at the back of what I could be.  I want to the one who is more of a man of action, one who is less hesitant and less likely to be paralyzed by fear and indecision. This might seem vague but what I am to do is eliminate the feeling of being able to do more by actually doing it.

In learning all I can, I came upon a concept of deliberate practice. The practice that you do to continue to push your ability and skills to the next level. This is the way you become an expert at something. This is something I must learn to do, deliberate practice of life.  To make it so I am constantly pushing the boundaries of what I can and can’t do. Learning how to get to each of the next stages in my own life.

This is my promise to myself that I will be that man I see on the hill, that man who is challenging me now, so by the time next year comes around, I will be able to challenge my past self too and welcome the next challenge with a smile.

This is my resolution, this is my resolve. I hope to all of you that we are all successful in our pursuits, but I have a back to catch up to, and I have to get started now!

To: The End Of The Year

I wanted to try a new mode of writing because I feel like my ability to express how I feel and my message are severely lacking. One thing I am good at is articulating how I feel in the form of a letter.

Dear 2016,

Hey, I thought I would squeeze this in right at the end of the year. We’ve known each other for a while now, and I wanted to get the chance to bridge out beyond our professional relationship before it’s too late (I am not known for my timing but bear with me).

We started off a bit sour, I had just been broken up with by 2015 and wasn’t in the place to accept new years into my life, especially after such an emotional roller coaster that the previous one was.

You took me under your wing and showed me how to pick myself up after it all. I would be more thankful, but you did kinda slap me senseless along the way. You took me back to my roots to show me all that I had and pointed out all the things I had to work on. Kept me grounded in reality, almost too much.

We had to get through loss and failure together, but somehow you just kept marching forward triumphantly.  I never understood your spirit, through all the chaos you kept moving.  I followed behind you, running to keep up, never wanting to fall behind again. 2016 you might have not been the best for me, but you did help me a great deal.

I got stronger during our time together, learned discipline and how to work hard for the things I want.  Made me understand the difference between doing and trying to do. You did make me feel uncomfortable with all the change you brought about, but you said change was inevitable and you have to learn to live with it.

I know I wasn’t the best at times, and I still have a long way to go, but through all of our time together you really wanted me to become a better person. Truth be told, I felt more human with you, more vulnerable because you don’t take my shit and you constantly ask me for more and more. I opened myself up this year to the world and people around me, because you showed me how much more I could lose if I didn’t.

It might have been wrong of me to make plans for you at the beginning, all those ideas that never panned out. You took care of me, though, created times and situations where I could genuinely laugh and smile.  Let me see my friends, made me feel like I wasn’t some broken cog in a machine. I saw that I had some purpose here and that people wanted me around. Gave me perspective, and a chance to expand my view beyond myself.

I know we didn’t agree at times, and at others, we were busy with our own goings on, but I always knew you were watching over me.
I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to say this earlier and only now that you are leaving that I have the courage to speak, Thank you 2016 for all the love, pain, and discovery we shared together.  Without you, I would still be in that hole looking up at the sky hoping to be saved instead of learning to climb out of it myself.

2016, at the end of it all with you going away we both know you weren’t the greatest thing to happen to me. You’ll go on your way knowing you made a difference, it’s up to me now to greet the new year and start working towards my future. So have a nice trip, I know we may never see each other again, but the memories we shared are irreplaceable. 2016, I love you.

Most Sincerely,
Me

twitch.

I look in the mirror this morning, and something was off
in the corner of my eye was a twitch that I can’t seem to shake.
No matter how much I rub or wash my eye, it won’t disappear.

It twitches when I am stressed
It pulls when I am tired
It shudders when I don’t want to deal
Every time I think of it, it twitches

The constant turning twitch feels like an itch I can’t scratch
I have seemingly no control over it maybe it’s indicative of my state of mind
Maybe it is trying to remind me something important

Either way this twitch
This involuntary muscle spasm
Won’t be missed when it’s gone.

WORDS, MY ETERNAL STRUGGLE WITH LANGUAGE : Revisited

My father was a lector, and a good one. While I was in middle school, I always admired my dad each and every time he went up during mass to say the readings.  I saw the crowds of people so attentively listening to every word he said. I wanted that; I wanted for people to listen to me as they listened to him. I wanted to be that person whom people looked to whenever they needed something said.
It was during this time that the opportunity arose for my classmates and me to be lectors during the weekly student masses. At every opportunity they gave us I would attempt to volunteer, hoping in some ways to capture some of my dad’s ability.  Zeal, unfortunately, did not translate to talent, and I struggled each and every time I went up to speak. For reading was not my strong suit, and I can tell you that even in the low-pressure classroom setting  I would stumble over every word, piecing together phrases and seeming disconnected thoughts hoping no one noticed my trouble. For some reason I saw letters that weren’t there, always nervously mispronouncing words and inventing phrases that didn’t belong; even I knew I wasn’t good. That didn’t keep me from wanting it; it didn’t’ keep me from trying.
Eventually, I stopped being called on, and when no one wanted to volunteer except for me, they would assign the job to someone else. I got the message loud and clear, I wasn’t the one that they were looking for, my words were not good enough.  I could only watch others as they got to go up there and speak, go up there and do what it seemed I couldn’t, patiently waiting for my time to come.
Even to this day, it’s my dream to give a great speech to a stadium full of people. To speak words that touch the heart of everyone in the room, to have them listen to me as they did for my father before me.

A year is an awfully long time. In the span of a year, I started this blog to begin working on a lot of aspects of myself, first and foremost, to find my voice.  Twelve months, fifty-two weekly posts later, I want to demonstrate how far I’ve come and let you know that I still have a long to go.
My story hasn’t ended; my journey is still ongoing. My words flow faster and better than before but there is always more I want to say, and I find myself wanting to fall into the bad habits of yesterday.  I sit at the keys of my computer often now, contemplating the sentence structure, the way I want something to be phrased, how long it takes me to convey my message.  I look at words differently than I did before, and like learning to swim, I don’t feel like I am at risk to drowning in a sea of language anymore.

I realized this is going to be a life long journey.  As I develop my style, the prose doesn’t feel so distant from me anymore.  The words don’t feel cold and unfamiliar and each time I write they seem to take a life of their own and flow out of me as if they want to be said. Each character carries a little of myself with it, a little of my heart, a little of my mind. The strange thing is that no matter how much of myself I pour onto the page I never seem to run out. There is fulfillment I find from writing, and I don’t think I will ever find myself empty from it.

I have spent a lot of time now writing about the reflection I see in the mirror.  I want to continue this but also set my sights on things are beyond me. So for the next coming year, I want to expand my reach to the world around me, to writing about what I see and how I see it.  My hope is that I can learn to get closer to language and the words I write so that they will become a direct translation of what I mean to say.
So to everyone who has taken the time to read my posts, it means a lot to me that you have come on this adventure with me.
There is still a long way to grow and much more to say. So to all those who have been with me, let’s be on our way.
Thank you for reading all the words I’ve written, here’s to future, one that is smitten.

thank you.

P.s.
Here is a link to my first post, if you have time I would like to see how it compares to how I write now.
WORDS, MY ETERNAL STRUGGLE WITH LANGUAGE 

 

 

 

 

Bags Under My Eyes

I have been getting less and less sleep
because nothing seems to get done
I keep going and going until I pass out
then wake up to start at it again
I wonder how long I can keep this up for
how long I will keep functioning
I always wanted this for myself
and yet, a good nights sleep is something to
die for

no sleep
leads to invasive thoughts and feelings
need sleep to make good choices
don’t sleep because I have work to do
can’t make the better choice to sleep instead of work
because I don’t sleep
see the problem
I don’t
because it at least makes me feel like I am
working towards something I love

sleep
I will get back to you
I promise
just right now,
I need to work
on the dreams you gave me while I was
sleeping