Fresh

I want you to grow up with a father. I want you to understand the love that I feel for you without the need for me to tell you. I want you to look at me with pride and respect.

You are the thing that drives me. Every choice I make has meaning because you are in the world.

I love you, little one. Never forget that.

Fear

Be what you were meant to be, demonstrate virtue.
Eliminate fear, strive for worthy goals.
Assert yourself, disregard negativity.
Trust your instincts, seek challenge.

Train your mind, become greater than the sum.
Have faith in others, allow them to surprise.
Erase what you made yourself to be, begin again.

Organize your life, learn anew.
Discover importance, forget what you knew.
Do not give in, gain strength through perseverance.
Solidify changes, make it impossible to fail.

Finally, Something Worth Writing

Interesting thing to write about, but my current situation has caused me to take a step back and take a hard look at myself. Maybe it's because I am living in Spokane for the moment, or maybe it was just time that I realized it, but I am realizing that the one thing I thought I had going for me is just self-deception. I am a mediocre writer at the very best, and I have serious doubts that mediocre is accurate.

It started when I remembered what I was like in high school. A while ago, I found some old poems I wrote. They were bad, embarrassingly bad. Then I thought of this chance encounter I had months ago with the teacher that caused me to believe that I had a talent, she basically asked me if I had finally put aside my ridiculous hope of writing a novel. The meeting always irked me. I mean, my wife said I was good, my friends said I was good, my mommy said I was good. Why would they lie...?

After going over all of these seemingly insignificant details of my life, proving exactly how self absorbed I am in the process, I had an epiphany. I didn't start valuing intelligence until college, more accurately, I didn't start valuing intelligence until after I stopped performing competitively athletically. It was as if I realized that I had nothing going for me, so I latched onto the one thing someone had told me I was good at. The tragedy is that I was never actually good at it. It was just a teacher trying to make a difference in a kid's life. It was a teacher trying to get a kid engaged in academics.

After being rejected by a few writing positions during my hunt for work, as well as having freelance articles rejected, I have finally begun to open my eyes. Of course people that love me are going to say they like what I write, I care about writing and they want to be supportive. It makes sense that a teacher is going to try and focus a student that doesn't have any interest in school. No doubt, someone with nothing left is going to attempt to find something of value within himself. These points do not make a good writer, though. They might imply a good support system, which is in itself valuable... for someone who stumbles all the time.

So anyway, to me, this post is valuable. It means I can explore other avenues. It means that the focus of my life's endeavors for the past nine years has amounted to the same as most of the rest of my focuses. Not a lot. It means that I am wandering further into the wilds, more lost than ever.

Knowing you're lost is better than imagining a destination that doesn't exist, though, right?

Thanks for reading.

Self Awareness

Can you imagine what its like to feel like you need to get over your child because she won't be in your life every day? The only way to evade self-destruction is to eliminate the cause of pain. Why is it that for me to succeed at becoming a better father, I need to distance my emotions from the only person in the world I want to be near?

Truth?

It sucks to realize, as the words you speak are coming out of your mouth, that the truth you are speaking is only the truth to you. It sucks to realize that you may in fact be lying to yourself every time you open your mouth. It sucks because how can you know that what you think and say are absolutely true? How can you be sure that the events you describe happened the way you remember? It's enough to make you want to have a mental health professional walk around behind you with a notepad and an "mmhmm" on his lips.

I want to live in a world with complete understanding of absolute truth.

Dirt

I have been feeling the desire to write for a while. The problem, however, is that I do not know who to write to. I am so angry. I am so low. I am so empty.

I watch thirty second videos of my daughter every couple of hours to remind myself that she is still mine. I write text messages to my wife that I never send. I contemplate asking for help when I know I will not want it from those willing to give. There are only three things in my life that I do not hate right now: my child, my dogs, and the hospitality of my friends.

The list of loss grows with every passing day. The welcome received from my friends begins to stale. The quest for work becomes more tedious and more discouraging with every application filled out, every resume handed over, and every cover letter pain stakingly dedicated to specific businesses I know will skim and then discard them. I began this new chapter with hope, accountability, determination. It seems that my hope was placed in the wrong hands. My accountability counts for little. My determination was squandered on ideals unshared.

Even as I write, I know that the thoughts that have plagued me over the past few weeks will find their way onto the page. I waited. I guarded you. I strove to protect you from yourself. I knew that the remains of what we shared hung from a fine thread since our separation, and you held the scissors poised for a clean cut. I let you hold our fate in your hands. I thought you were entitled. I thought that because of all the wrong I had done, I didn't deserve a say, I didn't deserve a voice. I kept silent, I allowed the gnawing resentment to build in my heart as I watched your resentment grow into disdain. Every slight comment, every thoughtless moment quickly apologized for was a shoddy mask for your deteriorating feelings.

Even as you ended us (do you remember our separation? How things were better right before you left), I knew I could do nothing to stop you. As ever, you were ignorant to everything other than your crusade for self-satisfaction. Not once did you stop to examine the truths of our past. Not once did you take into account the times I faced your rage, your verbal and physical attacks with patience and a willingness to forgive. (Or if you did, it was worth nothing compared to your personal trials.) From the ashes of our separation was born not the phoenix of a new beginning, but the grotesque of rage unattended. I beat it back. I challenged it, faced it, and forced it into the depths of your soul and allowed us to love one another again. The change I always begged you for, however, remained unaddressed within you, lurking, awaiting the moment when it would be needed again.

You are right on one point. There is no going back. I broke. I faltered. I fell. I gave in. I forsook. So did you. We are very different people. We fall in different ways. The difference is (and this is why I changed my reality) I was willing to compromise for you, I was willing to change. The only change you were willing to truly make was to leave me behind.

Someday, you will be forced to compare the next man you choose to me. On that day, if you have any ability to step outside of yourself, you will see that no one will love you the way that I did. No one will be so fierce in their devotion. No one will set aside so much of what was thought to be intrinsic to their being in order to accommodate you. No one will see you as clearly or be as attentive to your needs. Then again, you are relentless. Good luck in your search.

I guess this is what we get for basing our relationship around a shared appreciation for sorrow.

I love you, I will do my utmost never to write you like this again.

World of Wednesday: The World and Its Denizens

As anyone who knows me will tell you, my favorite thing to do in my free time is play World of Warcraft. It is immersive, complex, and incredibly fun. I have spent hour upon hour delving the depths of forsaken crypts in search of relics of untold power. I have crossed blades with creatures imaginable only in the waking dreams of twisted souls. Through my adventures, I have gained allies, friends, and the support of the kingdom for which I fight. Most importantly, I have gained a valuable way to spend time with family that we all can enjoy without living near one another.

I have played with my brother in San Fransisco, my parents in Washington State, my cousin in Los Angeles, and friends in Utah and Washington D.C., and those are just the people I play with that I knew before I started playing the game. Since then, some of my closest friends in the real world are people that I met in the game world. When I went through one of the most difficult trials of my life, when I was at my loneliest, the bulk of my emotional support rested on shoulders of two very good friends that I have never seen or spoken to outside of the game.

Now, to some, this may stand as a testament of the dangers of Massive Multiplayer Online Games. The idea that instead of seeking friends in the real world to comfort and fill the void of loneliness, someone would use the computer generated world and its denizens to fulfill basic human needs could be construed as anti-social. Indeed, on my weaker days, I questioned the validity of my friendships with these "Internet people". However, the notion that grounded me, made me able to accept them as true friends, just as they had done for me, was the reality that they are people too. Hidden behind the guise of elves and dwarves, there were real people with real fears, hopes, loves, and dreams. What's more, we shared something in common. We loved the game, and that is a very important thing. Common ground, shared experience, these things make for better ways to relate and understand the trials someone is going through. So, in a sense, I could not have chosen more wisely who to trust with my troubles. These friends understood me in a realm most others would scoff at. They cared (and still do) about my well being and the well being of those that I love. That was a tremendous gift.

I can hear the naysayers now, baffling at how someone could allow himself to fall so far out of touch with reality. That danger is real. I have seen it firsthand, that is another experience the game has given me. Luckily for me, my experience in the game is enriched by those I play with, but grounded in the reality of the family I have outside of it. My wife plays with me. She is a good player. She supports my hobby in the only way she knows how, by joining me. I try and do the same for her. I feel glad that I can exist in two worlds at the same time and manage to do both well. I will never sacrifice the real world for the game world, but I will happily pass the time there so long as I have good friends to do it with.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

Next Week: Player Versus Player

Triumphing Over Writer's Block: Writer's Exhaustion

So, it has been a week since I posted. That is kind of lame, I am well aware, but it illustrates an interesting point.

One of the most difficult aspects of writing regularly is the tendency to get worn out. Now, I am not using that as my excuse for failing write the posts I said I would write. My reason for not writing would most accurately be identified as laziness. Its sad, but true. However, for the purpose of this post, let us assume that I have suffered from writer's exhaustion.

How does one combat writer's exhaustion? What tools exist in the toolbox that would aid us in writing even when it seems inconvenient? Obviously, I need as much help with this as anyone.

Let's break down what writer's exhaustion is, first. So, writer's exhaustion is strikingly similar to writer's block in that it acts as a sort of buffer keeping a writer from doing what he or she does. Where writer's exhaustion differs from writer's block (in my approximation) is that writer's exhaustion does not stem from a lack of ideas or material to pull from. Ideas may be constantly taunting you from behind the corners of your brain, some might beg you to be written down, but they remain off the page and uncomfortably crammed inside your cranium.

So, what do we do?

If I was forced to guess (and I am an excellent guesser), I would wager that the best method of conquering writer's exhaustion would be to A.) force yourself to sit down and write until the passion overtakes, and B.) proceed with part A and write about something that interests you whether or not what you are writing accomplishes the goal you have set for yourself about what you are writing.

In short, get the creative juices flowing onto a page or screen. It is important to note that these juices must flow onto the page. (Yes, I am aware of the bodily humor inherent in my metaphor.) The importance of getting ideas on paper cannot be stated enough. I find myself awake at night crafting scenes from a story I have in my mind, ever painstaking detail planned, every leaf of every fictitious tree imagined, yet; these ideas never see the light of day. They never reach paper. They never reach an audience. I take full responsibility for that. However, this all could be avoided by establishing the habits that not only combat writer's block and exhaustion, but make you a more fluent writer.

As I said, this is one of my greatest struggles as a writer. So, my method of overcoming writer's exhaustion may ring false with some of you. I welcome any insights you might offer, any tools that you believe would aid our collective toolbox. I know I would benefit from your help.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

Next Week: Blog Poaching.

Triumphing Over Writer's Block: Challenge

They say (and I'm not certain who "they" are, to be honest), that the best way to conquer the torment known as writer's block is to write. With that said, you might say that this blog in its entirety is a way for me to overcome writer's block.

However, because of my desire to write for a living, I will attempt to find concrete methods of sifting through inane thoughts and discovering ways to express clear, concise ideas.

It is going to be a trial. I am still trying to get a grasp on writer's block, so; this little experiment will serve to aid you in finding that special story idea you've been looking for as well as aid me in finding the courage to start my work and put it out there for criticism.

So, I challenge you to write down the first thought that pops in to your head right... now. Use that idea and write a paragraph story or poem and post it in the comments. No one reads this but you and my mother, so no one will judge you but my mother. She is really nice, though. It doesn't need to be Shakespeare, it just needs to be you.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

Spiritual Sunday: Yessesse Sanaron

One of my favorite movies of all time is Lord of the Rings. I tend to lump the trilogy into a single film due to the fact that it is a single story. I remember watching The Fellowship of the Ring in the theater. I entered the dark auditorium skeptical. You see, I fancied myself a wizened and opinionated conesuir of fantasy stories. As many do after entering a room through the wrong door, I assumed that the door from which I entered was the front door. Little did I know that as I sat in my seat that I was about to partake of the fantasy epic that spawned so many of the fantasy stories I ignorantly held above it.

I was immediately drawn in by the sprawling beauty of Middle Earth as envisioned by Peter Jackson and his crew. The characters were as rich in detail and appeal as the scenery they trod purposefully through. Needless to say, I had a lot of reading ahead of me. The Lord of the Rings must be read before the next film debuted.

That was my introduction to J.R.R. Tolkien. From then on, my life has always been influenced by his writing and beliefs. The more I read, the more captivated I became. Interestingly, it was in The Silmarillion that I found the most joy.

Usually regarded as a wonderful source book for the later written stories, The Silmarillion illustrated the creation of Middle Earth, its inhabitants, and the course of the world that so many have come to appreciate. I enveloped myself in tales of the Chorus of the Ainur, the Valar, Melkor's betrayal, and the creation of the Silmarils.

History upon history poured out before me, each tale rich with myth. From Turin to Glorfindel and the Balrog, I was lost to the beauty that Tolkien created. It would take me days to explore each tale and express exactly why each one carried with it significance. I won't bore you.

My point is, this often overlooked book is worth a read to anyone who has ever imagined a world.

In creating his masterwork, Tolkien furthered my belief in the opportunity man has to become like God. I feel the excitement in my veins as I explore this imaginary world. I feel the images flow through my mind as I realize the creation of the world I have imagined. In this small way, I fulfill my role as a son of God. I conceive. I write. I create.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

Sappy and Sentimental: Waiting for a Train

I have been thinking a lot lately about the reasons why I do the things I do. My reasons aren't always sound. The end result isn't always what I expect or desire. The important part of my reasoning is usually you.

It is kind of like the anecdote in Inception, "You're waiting for a train..."

After last week, I have had to do more soul searching than I am accustomed to. Luckily, the answers I discovered allowed me to take positive steps forward, fulfill commitments, and better myself as a husband.

It bothers me when we sit in silence, both thinking at each other without saying anything. We have come through so much. Sometimes it makes us feel weaker, but as light glares across our faces we recognize that we have become stronger, more tolerant, than we were before.

It doesn't matter where we're going, because we'll be together.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

Fitness and Fatness: The Biggest Winner!!

It is Friday, that means I am talking about fitness.

Recently, Sourire and I were on vacation in California. We like to stay fit, so while we in the Los Angeles area we stopped into a local fitness club and coffee shoppe. We were just sitting down with piping hot hot cocoa when we spotted out of the corner of our collective eyes a suspiciously familiar face.

So, I says to Sourire, "That woman over there, she look familiar to you?"

To that, Sourire responded, "En effet, elle semble familier, mon ami." What?! She's french!

Without another word, I stood up, approached the woman and invited her to enjoy a coffee or something. She seemed a little taken aback at my forwardness, but as I was well aware of her strong nature due to many hours of exposure, I knew she would appreciate it.

So, Alison Sweeney, host of THE BIGGEST LOSER quietly accepts!

We sat together, enjoying the company of one another, both struggling to understand the things my beautiful wife was saying. (I haven't picked up as much french as I would have liked.)

By the end of our second round of acai berry infused Snapple white teas, we were all laughing lightheartedly.

Then Alison drops the bombshell. She turns to me, looks me square in the eye and says, "David, you know, you are one enormous fella. I think you should join us on the next season of The Biggest Loser!"

All I had to do was gaze into the deep azure orbs of Sourire's eyes to realize she had orchestrated this entire event.

Obviously, I accepted. So, hopefully you will all be seeing me soon on the television set! I thought this would be a fantastic way to kick off the Fitness and Fatness section of the B-Log.

I just feel so blessed. Thanks Alison! Thanks Sourire!

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

Thoughts on the State of Things: Such Ignorance, Such Arrogance!

Interesting that today was the day that I chose to implement my new direction. "Thoughts on the State of Things" is the one topic that I felt was a bit vague. For clarity's sake, I will say that "Thoughts" concerns many things, some related. Politics, people, personal mental well being, and social customs and trends. Usually, this will be my place to vent my displeasure with people and media- just fair warning. Anyhow, here it goes.

Due to my commitment to creating a blog worth reading, I began going back through my older posts in order to remove information that I might not enjoy the judgmental public to see.

In my stroll through memory cliché, I discovered two important aspects of my blog history. First, there is a lot that I might want to revise and/or remove from said history. Second, I come off as extremely arrogant when I am writing. So that's good... right? Yeah.

One of my finest abilities (see arrogance above) is my ability to view situations objectively. I am not one to shy away from saying exactly what I mean, so my question is: should my arrogant statements be deleted or remain? I cannot say that my opinion has changed on the majority of subjects that I rant about. I can say, however, that the manner in which I would prefer to discuss my beliefs might be slightly less intrusive if I were to approach those topics today.

I mean, call me a fascist, but I believe that censorship is necessary. I am extremely grateful for the opportunity I have to live in a country where I can voice my opinions openly. However, I do not think that my life is improved by hearing Michael Moore's opinions on the country that provided for him the very rights that he abuses so callously.

The truth, as usually is the case, exists somewhere in the middle of the issue. The bottom line is that I should be in charge of censoring the worlds information at my leisure. I don't think that's too much to ask, do you?

Anyway, I veered off topic a bit. In regard to my arrogance. I think I've come to the conclusion that most of the feelings I feel or have felt were valid at the time of feeling. If readers feel like they need to judge or express a difference of opinion, by all means. I would do the same.

I love you, I will write to you tomorrow.

SMTWTFS

In lieu of my recent desire to be more focused in my posting, I have devised a plan to aid in keeping my blog focused. In addition, the direction I hope to take will enable me to discuss different aspects of the world that I enjoy thinking about without spending the entirety of my time on a single topic.

Henceforth, this blog will be separated into talking points. Each day of the week will be spent discussing a different topic that I find interesting. Seven topics, seven days, seven aspects of life that I enjoy. Seven is the perfect number, so I feel good about it.

As it stands, the topics I have decided to discuss will be as follows:

Sunday: Spiritual
Monday: Movies and Literature
Tuesday: Triumphing over Writer's Block
Wednesday: Warcraft and Gaming Theory
Thursday: Thoughts on the State of Things
Friday: Fitness and Fatness
Saturday: Sappy and Sentimental Drivel

I feel good about this new direction. How do you feel? Russia? China? Japan? Do you guys have any suggestions? Anything you enjoyed my take on or want to hear more from me about? I would welcome the input.

Anyway, I will begin this new direction after the break.

Comrade

Strange day so far. I woke up this morning, carried the baby for a while, went back to sleep for half an hour, and then you showed me the stats on this blog.

Apparently, I have a reader in Russia, which is pretty cool. I'm not certain of the reason someone would be reading my blog in Mother Russia, but I would be interested to find out. Maybe it is a helpful learning tool of how to speak ridiculously. Perhaps, an example of the idiotic pride of Americans. Mayhaps it is a reminder of home for some traveling student. Whatever the case, my reader should let me know, I can barely get my wife to read this thing, let alone other Americans. I should probably consider moving to the Mother Russia. Regardless of the reasons, my mystery friend, thanks for the support.

I gave a lesson last night on perseverance. It was interesting to talk about a subject I have so often and obviously failed at. You, however, have always managed to love and support me through our trials. Luckily, I have the opportunity and will to make you proud. So many plans go through my head. So much that I don't express. (Sentence fragment). It is like I have highlight reels of ideas that flow through my brain that need to be expressed. The book about King David, an action sequence of an arena team join battle, my stellar imaginary body... the fact is, I need to put away childish things. We've come leaps and bounds from last year. We have. I have grown complacent as evidenced by our last few weeks. I need to begin working on the ideas that I have so that they don't die with me. I think that is one of my gravest fears. That the ideas that define me will never meet the page. If they do not, no one will be to blame but me.

Anyhow, I just follow the stream of consciousness. I am going to start having purpose behind my posts beyond rambling. That is a good first step. I can do that. I love you, I will write to you tomorrow.

Correction

I was hired on the spot.

Power

So, here we are again...

You are happy, smiling, playing with the baby.

I am fighting, raging, searching for a way to solve the unsolvable.

The fact is, the truth is, the only solution is time. Time build trust. I need time. Do I deserve it? I believe that I do. You don't want to hold all the cards. You don't. You don't want the power. Give it up.

I was shown something today. I learned that I am not a lost cause. I went to fill out a job application and basically was hired on the spot. I made the hair dresser who cut my hair laugh. I used abilities I usually reserve for my closest friends to get the things I need.

I need you. I learned that today too. I learned that through my actions. I need you to have faith in me. I need you to think about the months and months of good that disappear during your dark times.

It pains me that you see it as clarity. It isn't.

I love you. I WILL write to you tomorrow.

So, today could have gone better.

I just wanted to write to make sure you knew that I am thinking of you. I am always thinking of you. I hope that we can continue to build trust. I miss the sound of your laugh. I miss the sight of your smile. You are too beautiful to be so sad all the time.

I love you. Sleep well.

Just thought I should let you know that I love you. I have now seen you endure immense pain in the pursuit of a noble goal. I have seen you put on a brave face as the news came that our goal would be unreachable in the manner we wished to reach it. I watched you accept the new direction we would be forced to take.

I have seen you thrive off the new duties you have acquired. I have seen you falter. I have seen you forfeit hope. I have seen you reassess your situation and decide to work harder.

You are everything a mother should be. You prove that you are not only worthy of the title, but destined for it. Your love for your child increases the love you give to me.

We continue to grow. I continue to watch you. Every day brings new discoveries.

I love you. Sleep well.