I Live In A Place...

Tombstones melting into a vacant hilltop.

Faceless figures cry out from the earthy rubble.

A beast stares with cold black eyes.

Its right claw trembles.

Its left, gripping despair.

Thump... Thump... No more sound.

Dead branches now crow to the frigid winds.

It is done.

Dreams are for fools.

The souls of turmoil dance on despair.

Rust is the skin of the new land.

The grim beast steps on glass shards.

Glass that once contained truth.

The truth about a happier time. 

Damn!

Very rarely do I have a vain moment. This morning as I looked in the mirror all I could think was, "Damn you're hot!" Needless to say I felt good about not having any more notches on my belt to go down too. Cheers to losing weight. 

No Sleep and a Hand Shake

I'm having a really tough time right now,  but my feline companion is getting suicidal. Toke (Tokyo) hasn't ate since she was dumped into her new home. I can't get her out from under the bed and she cries all night long. I haven't gotten any sleep, if she keeps it up I might have to put her in the basement. I'm really hurting for what she has to endure but I have to get sleep at some point.

With that said... today was especially rough. I got zero sleep last night and I had really bad acid reflux this morning. I almost didn't come into work, I knew that would come back to bite me later. The workload was rough and the meetings were all droll. I had a hard time keeping my head up. 

I finally got some reprieve when I found out I could get a discount at the YMCA downtown. I joined up and am hoping I make it in in the morning. On the way out though I was approached by the owner. He was a mid-thirties black man with a winning smile and a wonderfully positive attitude... it could only make me smile. He stuck out his hand and told me, "welcome." For the first time since the divorce has someone welcomed me. I reached out and gave him a hand shake. His handshake was soft and not at all what I was expecting. I then realized as I released my grip that I too had given him a flimsy handshake. That's when it dawned on me... a revelation! I given handshakes like I've lived my life. My life's been predicated on conforming to other's handshakes. If it's a hard handshake I reciprocate with a sturdy handshake as well. If it's a stylized handshake I mimic that too. What does this mean? As I thought about it some more, I figured out that I need to find my handshake. I just hope I can.

A Friend Once Told Me

If someone is your friend and they care about you, then they will see you at your best and at your worst. It is when they see you at your worst, that their opinion of you should not falter. 

At our worst...

The people that matter... 

The people that care... 

Embrace vulnerabilities and flaws without judgement.

Over the last couple years I've changed more than any other time in my life. It's not because of anyone or anything, it's because I put important goals for myself aside in order to do what everyone else (including myself) believed was right. I fell into unhappiness. I wanted to travel all over the world, I wanted to be a designer in New York or Chicago, I wanted to write a book. I'm 28 and I've made a promise to myself that I'm going to do these things. Wanted is now a want and I feel alive again.

The single life has its bumps and bruises. I've had no regrets going down this path. However, I've never been alone. These can be two conflicting feelings that battle in my heart and head everyday. I'm relishing trying to figure myself out and reconnect with myself, but another part of me keeps saying it's scary to be out of a relationship. I've made mistakes and shown my vulnerability. I've pulled back and reached out. Being myself and just having fun again is what I truly need. Most recently I went out and partied with some coworkers and drank too much. Alcohol has never been my friend and my issues with it have been well documented. I had done very well, I hadn't drink like that since October of 2006 (right after my wedding). I was originally going to go to McFadden's with some buddies but they took off without me. I instead went to a piano bar and proceeded to let everyone know what was going on with me (that felt really good). Normally after a night like that I'm usually full of regret and embarrassed. What was weird is I didn't care what other people thought, I still don't. There was one thing I regretted about that night and that was at one point towards the end I became extremely selfish. That's not me or who I am. I have a wild weekend ahead of me and I'm looking forward to it. Thanks to the other night I discovered something about myself and that is what I need to keep doing.

 

Bored

I'm sitting at work with absolutely no emergencies or fires to put out. It's crazy!!! I wish had more to do because the day is feeling very long. Also, things just sit and fester in my head the more I sit and do nothing. At least tomorrow night I can go with my friends to McFadden's to check out the Wizards girls. I'm also pretty excited about the weekend because I've got a lot of things going on, but for now I just have to sit and wait... and make poses like this.

Stop Hurting Me & Yet I Feel Nothing

Can someone please point me in the direction of life's easy button. I feel that for all my hard work, accomplishments, and material things I'm even less of the man I once dreamed I'd be. Every step is the wrong way, every piece of advice has consequences, every hint dropped is a chance to be burned. Is this all there is? Am I slave to my own ambitious nature? Do I give to others where I should be taking? The mirror on the wall never answers. Loneliness is the deepest hole... what gross things we eat in that pit.

Turtle

The deteriorated turtle stepped onto the charcoal pavement of Main Street. The hard sun beat down upon his shell revealing his life's scars. The scars were deep and reminded him everyday that life can be a gauntlet of poor choices and vicious predators. His leathery skin was a testament to his blue collar work ethic and a life spent out in the Kansas sun. He's a traveler now, searching, surviving. Each foot moves steadily forward, broken claws scraping against the hardened black tar. Each paw which once was so detailed had been burned and melted over the years, leaving only callused bark. The turtle could do nothing but walk and think, finding little nuggets of pleasure in his thoughts. The truth was that he no longer understood his identity or purpose. He could only understand that he needed to change his reflection to match the image of someone better, happier. Never be true to yourself, that only leads to more scars. Scars marked by some vicious beast, driven by a pot marked moon.

Under the turtle grew a single yellow line, a marker that provides some sort of measuring stick to a world gone endless. A turtles eye placement can vary from species to species. A majority of turtles have low set eyes which causes them to constantly look down. However, this turtle had very high set eyes and could therefore look ahead. Maybe it was all the years of punishment but while he could look forward he still studied the ground. He looked down as if he was not worthy of looking towards the horizon, towards hope. The turtle, deep in thought, had almost crossed the other lane not changing his pace or expression the whole time. A scraping noise came from a bush just off the road. He finally had a reason to look up. He studied the bush, much like most scholars study their moldy books looking for some sign of enlightening truth. Clumsily out of the bush tripped another turtle. It didn't take long to realize that it was a beautiful female turtle. She moved towards the road and as he studied her, he was overwhelmed by feelings of both regret and excitement. So many bad choices and yet so few opportunities was the history mapped on his back. His thoughts from a time that seemed so long ago came back to him. He was desperate to change his idea of himself. He was scared to though. He wrestled with himself, playing out both scenarios in his head. Should he hide himself in his shell or run toward her? If he gave her everything would it be enough? Could he fool her with his brazenness or would she except his soul? Would she understand him as one that needs help coming out of his shell? With no thought the male turtle dashes toward the beauty. It only took a split second to realize that his move was wrong. She saw him coming full speed and she herself backed away. She denied them joy. She destroyed him. It only took a second to realize he had made another mistake. While he was speedily racing toward his infatuation he misstepped. The turtle found himself crushed under a giant tire that came and passed faster than lightning.

Had the turtle curled up inside his comfortable shell he would have stayed safe. He would have not been crushed both inside and out. The turtle had had enough, he made his choice, he can't regret it.

It's Rather Cliché Of Me, But Oh Well.

The Emerald city never shined so bright as it did in her eyes. Braver than I, Dorothy understood where her heart belonged. Three taps and she could do what I couldn't. I'm sliding down the brick road, lost in a world of emotion I can't understand yet. I'll be lucky if find my head, heart, courage and home. Perhaps one of those would be good enough for now.

I Want To Burn My Identity & Set Off Into The Wild

I feel deeply inspired by a book and now the movie, "Into the Wild" Check it out.

"Hard Sun" - Lyrics

When I walk beside her
I am the better man
when i look to leave her
I always stagger back again

Once I built an ivory tower
so I could worship from above
when I climb down to be set free
she took me in again

There’s a big
a big hard sun
beating on the big people
in the big hard world

When she comes to greet me
she is mercy at my feet
I see her inner charm
she just throws it back at me

Once I dug an early grave
to find a better land
she just smiled and laughed at me
and took her rules back again

Once I stood to lose her
and I saw what i had done
bowed down and threw away the hours
of her garden and her sun

So I tried to want her
I turned to see her weep
40 days and 40 nights
and its still coming down on me

- Eddie Vedder

V-day Thoughts

I think sometimes we take for granted what Valentines day really is. If someone just held my hand that would be more of a gift than any flowers, gift cards, or monetary signs of affection. 

Perhaps a laugh and a smile is all one really needs on a day like this, but who am I to go against social traditions. I guess diamonds truly are forever.

A Tragic Gift From Mr. S.

When I was 11 I realized I had a gift. I had just gotten my own T.V. in my room and was flipping through the channels. I happened to stop on an older movie and felt compelled to watch it. It started with a poorly executed sword fight scene. The two main characters in that scene seemed to truly dislike one another. I couldn't help but laugh when one of them had mentioned biting his thumb at the other and then proceeded to do so. I finished the movie that was about two lovers who epitomize the phrase "love at first site," tragically due to genealogical baggage they perished in order to serve a higher purpose. I left that movie with a sense of purpose. I dreamed everyday that maybe I would find that someone who would capture me the way Romeo & Juliet captured each other. There was no escape in their admiration and love for each other.

Being inspired by this movie I looked it up. It turns out it was done by William Shakespeare. Now I'm not stupid. I'd heard the name before and my parents talked about literature, but I had never sat down to read anything of his. I went to the library and picked up several of Shakespeare's books. For the first time I was reading Shakespeare. My parents knew I never read much, mostly because they didn't consider comic books and graphic novels literature. When they saw I was reading shakespeare they were quite skeptical. They insisted it was too hard for anyone to follow, they figured I was just making my own interpretations to what the story was really about. This bothered me but I read book after book. It wasn't until I discussed Shakespeare with my intelligent grandfather (mother's side) in front of my parents that they found out I understood everything. I understood Shakespeare's language better than our current English. This amazed them, after that, they left me alone, except to brag to everyone else of course.

I still love Shakespeare, I still read Shakespeare, I still dream Shakespeare. I love Romeo & Juliet but it was not my favorite. Perhaps I understood the story of Macbeth the most. I found it to be the most human, the realist, as if Mr. S. was witnessing tragedy in its truest sense. I find myself gravitating to the characters in Macbeth because each has flaws concerning power, lies, and mistrust. Those sins weigh heavier on them throughout the story and finally lead them to their untimely deaths. Why is it I understand tragedy so well? Am I a tragic figure in my own life's story? I could do what most my age couldn't. My parents kept R rated movies from me as well as a few playboys I tried to hide here or there, don't ask me how they found them hidden in my comic books. Perhaps, instead, they shouldn't have let me read such tragic literature at a young age. It always made me feel different but not special. I felt like I could see the human condition for what it was, that is a terrible thing to have on your mind going into middle school. I would look at the other students living in the now, only thinking about what is cool or good for them at the moment. I lived in the back corner, staring out the window, thinking, contemplating, dreaming of tragedies to come. 

Okay, and

I feel like every bad, my tear in my beer. slash. My dog died. slash. I don't have a valentine. Country song right now.

Two of my favorite artists in this genre are: Dolly Parton and Patsy Cline.

The Inner Nerd

I'm such a nerd and I know it. I immediately came home today and jumped on the Xbox 360. My favorite game currently is Call of Duty 4 : Modern Warfare. The game is a masterwork of story telling, role-playing, and problem solving. It's bundled into an environmentally luscious pixelgasm full of rich graphics. One word describes the multiplayer experience, "Infinite." No multiplayer game ever feels the same as any other and therefore cannot be predicted. I'm sorta in awe of the sensation I get from playing this game. I can't sit and watch television for very long or read for an extended period of time. How is it I can get lost in a game for hours at a time and still be wanting more? 

"I scan the room quickly and bolt for the opposite door. I immediately force the claymore mine out of the satchel hanging from my waste. Two spiked metal tipped rods located on the bottom of the trip mine cut their way through the wood flooring. I then activate the laser trip lights onto the ground in front of me. I creep back over to the other door that leads to the staircase I traveled up from and proceed to set another claymore. I slowly move to the window that's positioned into the center of the room. The window calls to me, as if to say, I will be the looking glass to which the world sees you live or die. The camo painted barrel peeks out to greet the sun from the third floor window. Nobody noticed I'm here. I stare through the sniper scope and scan the area for possible entry points to this desolate utopia. A flash of burgundy catches my eye and in a split second I recognize it as an enemy bandana. I hold my breath and search for the strangers face. He looks intent as he creeps along stalking his prey. I find his temple and proceed to measure the speed at which he is traveling. I slowly squeeze the trigger and in a split second the man is a heap upon the earth. I took his life and his legacy. He is no more. I check the body one last time before I realize that there are two other men in close proximity now scanning their surroundings. I think to myself, what a fool. One of the two men decided to just kneel in the middle of the street. I control my breathing and steady my aim. He's down... liquid roses scatter the concrete around his head. No time to feel anything about it. At that moment I hear a blast, It occurs to me that they are now searching the buildings and apparently ran across my trip mine. I hope that got all of them because I can't do my job and watch my back all at once. A zipping noise shoots past my right ear followed by splinters scratching, digging, and gnawing into my cheek. The third soul must have located me. Good thing they didn't train him to aim properly. I reposition and pick him up in my scope. He's at a difficult angle so the only thing I can do is give myself a better shot. I have a clear line of sight to his right knee cap. I squeeze the trigger and another round belches from the chamber. The man immediately falls forward writhing in pain, another round releases and he is no longer feeling anything. A sense of pride overcomes me, but that is exactly the mistake I didn't need to make. How could I have not heard the footsteps. I immediately knew death was on me. A sharp pain hits my right kidney as the figure twists the knife. The man forcefully pulls me back from the window as I try to kick violently. I can taste the warm blood working its way up my throat. I can't control my limbs anymore and he recognizes that as I go limp. He consciously pulls the knife from my body and wipes the blood off onto my uniform. The man picks up his weapon and makes for the opposite side of the room. God, please let me live for a few more seconds. My prayer was answered with another loud bang. The other trip mine had dispatched my foe. There is a weird sulfur taste in my mouth and everything becomes black. My breath stops."

Some will see these games as nothing but glorified violence, others will see it as a recruiting tool. To me this game allows me to use my instincts and tactics to achieve certain goals that have rewards attached to them. To me, with this game, it feels like the opposite of reality. Sometimes in a game everything falls into place, sometimes in a game you can be a legend. I've never had that feeling in my life. I've never had luck. I've never overcome impossible odds or set new records. I was picked last in dodge-ball for good reason. Call me nerd but I'm really just a dreamer.

Holding On

Like a winter chill, that reverberates up and down my spine, I'm starting to feel the effects of the separation. It's a cold feeling. No more is the luxury of having someone to wrap your arms around, the comfort to seduce another's neck, ears, and shoulders with your lips. It's gone for now. I'm trying to convince myself I don't need intimacy or passion, I don't need moonlit eyes staring up at me... wanting. What little passion or intimacy I got before is heroin to my body. My skin is wanting... wanting to enjoy the slightest touch. The wanting creeps through the mazes of my skin. 

The hands are my weakness. The hands are my tools to which I live life and create. I do not take my hands lightly nor do I give them freely. My hands are an extension of my shyness in what is otherwise a confident frame. Each finger is a lesson learned... has touched something special or grim, has made me what I am. My hands are small and very shy. My hands could not carry the burden of a ring that was false nor could they lift a drowning heart. These hands want to hold something special, but I don't know what that is. If I'm touched on my hands I might shudder, vulnerability is rooted deep within the knuckles. If I touch you with my hands it means I trust you with all I can give. It means you've helped me heal. I'm lonely, and therefore my hands yearn to touch, but for now they only type. I need to figure things out. My hands need to hold something, for now, all I can give them is hope. Yes... I need to hold onto hope.

I Miss Tokyo

Not that Tokyo, the other one. I'm really missing my feline friend. She's always been there for me and knows when I'm upset. Every night for the past six years she's crawled in my arms to sleep. I feel like I'm missing a piece of me when I'm going to bed. Whenever I was really upset she would force all 20 lbs. of herself onto my lap and just petting her would calm me down. Since the separation I've been getting emails and pictures of how my kitty is missing me. Apparently she has been getting sick every morning and sleeps in my spot. I miss her so much.

The Heart Doesn't Bend. It Only Breaks.

Yesterday was by far the hardest.

I was on the phone with my mom around lunch time. She could sense it, she could smell it. I blurted the words, "It's pretty much final." Before I realized how she tricked me she screamed "no". She screamed it so many times it felt like the very word was trying to bend my heart. She was trying so hard to convince herself this wasn't happening, the tears and screams silenced her and she hung up the phone. I broke her heart yesterday. I was disappointed in myself because she was disappointed in me. I couldn't stop the tears and lost it at my cube. All I could do was grab some kleenex and put my head down. Never have i gone through this. Never has she disowned me like this. She's losing a daughter and hating her son. I had to call my dad. I need someone. I desperately need someone to tell me everything will be alright. My dad said all the right things and was able to calm me down. I needed that so bad. It was all i could think about, her tears, her screams. It killed me inside.

The minutes felt like hours but I had to pull myself together for a meeting with my boss. I told myself that he needs to know. The glass meeting room we sat in felt unnaturally cold, could it be because I haven't eaten in a week or was it a sign of things to come? Would my career die as i would now be disowned by my boss? The first time I've felt in a fish bowl and I started to sink into myself. Here it goes and i told him everything, the room got increasingly warmer and I felt at home. As he asked questions, I teared up, but gave him all of what I was going through. He was a savior at that moment, he was a friend. I had his ear for as long or as little as I needed, he was going to help me through whatever. I couldn't ask for a better boss. We left the warm glass room with an understanding.

Moments later, the phone rang. I dreaded seeing my mom's number on the display. Would she abuse me? hurt me? maybe... love me? All she could say was, "We need to talk, face to face, when do you get off work?". If you've ever had butterflies in your stomach this was worse, this was maggots crawling over each other trying to eat their way out of me. I was so nauseous. So very nauseous.

I left work and headed South... South is where my love died... South is where heartache lies and sleeps, like some yellowed eyed beast ready to tear me to shreds. It was a long drive made short by the constant thinking. I pulled into the lonely driveway, the rain makes it look so slick and unforgiving. My parents were there sitting in their car. I didn't look, I couldn't let myself glance at them. We went inside the front door and I peered up into my mom's worn out face, she looked a lot older to me right then... had I aged her 15 years in one day? The move was not one I expected, I half expected her to give me the scrunched lipped snarl or just smack me. Neither of those came, she hugged me. It was a good feeling. We sat down in the living room and talked. It was a hard, rough, night. They pushed and prodded but I knew that comes with the territory of dropping such a bomb on them. The hardest part was telling them I wasn't in love anymore and having to repeat it over and over again as if they didn't believe me. We all cried and dealt with the news in our own ways. I always hurt when my mom cries because I felt like I disappointed her.

We left the house and I went back to my friends house. My eyes were hurting form all the tears or trying to hold them back. I felt completely an utterly worn out. I was done with everything. Have you ever been so exhausted and yet couldn't get to sleep because you were constantly thinking about everything? That was me. In truth the easy way out is to stay comfortable and not question one's love for another. It's easier to fall in love than deal with the pain of falling out of love. I don't love her anymore and if I could change that I would. All I can do is let her go, let her heal, and let her move on. I want her to find someone that does love her, for who she is. I want her to have a mini-van packed full of beautiful babies. Most of all... I want her to be happy because the road we were going down would only hurt her more.

Today

Today was just to hard to write about.

What to do.

Groceries... Check

Towels... Check

Phone Charger... Check

A place to watch the KU vs MU game... Check

A complicated  and emotionally draining situation... Check

I think that about covers it.

Is it an Intermission?

I was driving back home for what might be the last time. As I was heading South on I-35 at 10:30 p.m. I looked to the East towards Kansas City. Kansas City looked cold and barren like some desolate utopian society that just drink the punch. This is the feeling in my heart? I couldn't help but feel K.C. was giving me a cold shoulder, that I had left it when I knew I shouldn't have. K.C. felt like some jilted lover who can no longer look past my faults and instead blames me for them. Those emotions ran deep in the woman to the right of me. We didn't speak during the 35 minute drive home. We didn't have to say a word and yet we understood each other perfectly. I was going home to pack... I was going to home to leave it... indefinitely... 

I've never been alone, ever, yet I feel I need to be. This is not easy like some science experiment into bachelorhood. This is deeper, I will hurt, I will be human and I will cry. This is me trying to figure out where I went wrong, did I move to fast into family life without a time frame or plan? Did I commit to someone I knew in the back of my head would always be there for me, but would never be able to provide me with the things I need? Did I feel like I owed it to her? Was I trying to not be the bad guy, and yet, became that anyway? I'm so nauseated and I can't eat. Work is the last thing on my mind and I haven't been able to play games either. This is a wake up call, I'm sitting in the middle of the road trying to decide if I need to make an u-turn. I could use a friend right now, but maybe I don't deserve one? My stuff is packed and ready to go. 

Kansas City... I coming back for a little while, treat me good. 

I need a friend.

My Secret Passions

Here are a few things that I secretly love and wouldn't normally share with anyone. Being a guy, I often have to hide these tidbits of info.

Who could live life without german chocolate cheesecake?

Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency is a fascinating show.

Dirty Dancing has one of the best lines in any movie.

If you haven't ever listened to heart, do so.

Babylon 5 is awesome!

I've always had a crush on Tyra Banks.

I looked at two majors going into college. The other major had more schooling involved... OBGYN. A friend of mine in high school had a bad experience with one and I thought I could be a good one. This just isn't going to sound right no matter how I explain it.

I love the color pink especially with chocolate brown.

I have a love for fashion.

I'm a hopeless romantic especially when it comes to fairy-tales like "Stardust".

I thoroughly enjoy karaoke.

I love video games, especially the old ones.

I love taking showers and singing in them. Most of my creative thoughts happen in the shower.

I've used Nair. I should have taken that one to my grave.

I have a thing for Platinum Blondes that started when I saw a Marilyn Monroe poster when I was a kid.

I love Burberry everything.

I poured out a 40 for 2-pac. (had to fit in something masculine)

I like country music sometimes.

I bought Brittany Spears greatest hits.

A Very Weird Feeling

It's been agreed upon that the comforts of life that I'm so accustomed too need to be removed from me indefinitely. I'm unhappy in my personal life and everyone knows it. I've never lived on my own and therefore have no understanding of what that takes or means. I'm moving to a place that will challenge me in every facet. I'm at a fork in the road and I've chosen a different path, one that I've never taken before. Perhaps... at the end of this journey I will find love and happiness, or maybe, I'll just have to keep searching. My stomach aches, my head is foggy and I'm praying that the transition from domestication to independence will be easy... I know in my heart that it won't be. I wonder if my friends will think badly of me, if my family will be disappointed. 

What can I do? 

I've been pretending and putting on a fake smile since last summer but I can no longer do that. 

It's now the real me, the true me. 

Sometimes a Song

Sometimes a song can sum up everything that you are feeling in a day. I wish I knew what that song was. It needs to be a song that reflects my feelings of rejection, hopelessness, and drowning. A song that tells everyone, I will be there for you... forever. A song that cries out, I need to stop hurting inside. A song... Any song... That says need me for me. This isn't that song but one I can relate to right now. 

Blaqk Audio's ~ Wake up, Open the door, And escape to the sea.

Please catch me now, I'm lying.
You taught me how it can feel like love.
Just catch your breath.
We'll dive in and our descent
will somehow feel like life.

Oh, my, my, you're oh so sly.
Let's leave unsaid what's left unspoken.

Please hold me now, I'm freezing.
God tell me how we ever got this cold.

Oh, my, my, you're oh so sly.
Let's leave unsaid what's left unspoken
And oh, my boy, you're oh so coy
Let's just pretend that nothing's broken.

We'll censor the ending for me...for you.

Oh, my, my, you're oh so sly.
Let's leave unsaid what's left unspoken
And oh, my boy, you're oh so coy
Let's just pretend that nothing's broken.