The Wanderer Lost

Fresh

2011-11-28T04:23:00.000-08:00

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

2011-10-13T12:44:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-21T05:58:00.000-07:00

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

2011-08-30T22:52:00.000-07:00

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?

2011-08-25T09:38:00.000-07:00

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

2011-06-29T03:23:00.001-07:00

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

2011-04-13T08:00:00.000-07:00

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

2011-04-12T08:53:00.000-07:00

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

2011-04-05T21:41:00.000-07:00

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

2011-04-03T09:17:00.000-07:00

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

2011-04-03T01:02:00.001-07:00

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!!

2011-04-01T08:16:00.000-07:00

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!

2011-03-31T12:52:00.000-07:00

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

2011-03-31T11:41:00.000-07:00

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

2011-03-29T09:37:00.000-07:00

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

2011-03-26T17:19:00.001-07:00

I was hired on the spot.

Power

2011-03-26T17:04:00.001-07:00

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.

2011-02-03T03:43:00.000-08:00

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.

2011-01-23T18:08:00.001-08:00

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.

2010-11-17T02:34:00.000-08:00

You are not like any other women I have met. You are beautiful. Not to say you are the only beautiful woman on the planet, but you have a distinct quality that separates you from other attractive women. You have managed to continue to become more attractive as you have gone further into your pregnancy. This is quite a feat. This sets you apart and above the rest. I am shallow. I relish aesthetic beauty. You are lovely to look upon.

You are full of emotion. Every day is a new adventure. Whether it is a bad dream or new curtains, your emotions set a tone for a day. Your emotions are contagious. People who know you feel the joy that emanates from your heart. It is uplifting and reassuring to always know where you stand, even if you are not always aware.

You love. This may sound simple. It is not. You love. The beauty that exudes from you and the emotion readily readable on your face both act as testaments to the manner in which you love. Love is an action. You feel strongly because you care so much. About me, about our family, about our dogs, about our daughter; you love and therefore we all are able to handle a little more. You are a beacon guiding me on. I love you for that.

I also love deals.

I love you. Sleep well.

Classy?

2010-09-10T12:05:00.000-07:00

Two of my class introductions:

Hello class, my name is David. I am a student. I have been enrolled in classes at Somesuch College for over four years. In recent years, I have been taking classes online while I live my life in the quaintly industrial town of Spokane, Washington. I like to begin sentences with the letter "I". However, other letters have their uses as well. I do not like Facebook. I do not like Twitter. I believe that the internet is a breeding ground for laziness. I am aware of the irony of addressing the flaws of the internet while enrolled in an internet based class. I believe that by creating an introductory post without the frills of your run of the mill class introduction, I am setting myself apart from the rest of you. Invariably, my ego plays its part. Indubitably, it gives the appearance of a person both insecure and irreverent. Or, it could mean that I am bored and feel like writing something that would entertain me and possibly you, depending on your sense of humor. Who wants cake?

Hello class, my name is David. I wrote a really great introduction, but when I ran it by my family, it was decided that it was a little too honest. Still, I can feel the words bristling beneath my finger tips, yearning for my synapses to spark, to send the commands from my brain to my hands thus allowing the words the realization of their existence. Alas, this is an introduction. Introductions are about finding ways to relate to others, finding ways in which we may bring them into our sphere of existence, not understanding them. To understand someone is a deeply personal concept, to do so too quickly is to invite distance rather than connection. So, with that, the words that will never be realized can rest at relative ease knowing that, at least, their brothers have gone on before them. I live in Spokane, Washington. I have a wife and child on the way. I have two dogs. Life is good.

Airplanes

2010-04-28T22:27:00.000-07:00

It has been a couple days, a couple thought provoking days.

I haven't written for a while because I was down in San Diego for my wife's sister's wedding. It was a beautiful occasion complete with a stunning bride, bristling groom, and delicious cake. A number of wonderful occurrences came to pass while I was in sunny Southern California, however, these happenings require a bit more time to dwell upon than I am willing to commit to tonight.

Instead, I will address two things: my trip down to California and the idea that sprang upon me at work today.

As I sat in the exit row of my trusty 737 awaiting the engineer to finish cleaning up the messy rear lavatory, not as gross as it sounds though entirely more time consuming (2 1/2 hours), I had the opportunity to speak with a gentleman named Chris. Chris, a young student athlete attending school at Spokane Community College, was on a recruiting trip to Orange County. Through our conversation, I learned that we had many things in common. I am not going to go into the things I discovered, though I will say that I was quite happy learning that we share a healthy respect for Eddie Vedder. What I will say is that I was quite flattered that he asked me for the web address to this blog, having thought that my story was mildly interesting. If one person could find me interesting enough to find out what i have to say to the Internet at large, maybe I have hope. maybe not though. I recommended some books to him, The Fountainhead, World War Z, Ender's Game, I hope he checks them out. Each one has enlightened me in some form or another. Reading good books... the best way to become a better writer.

Anyhow, I am in great danger of going off on a tangent. I can feel it coming. I really want to talk about Ayn Rand. I won't though. Not at this second anyway.

Chris, even though you won't likely ever read this, thank you for the conversation on the plane. I don't often step out of my comfort zone, and though I felt rather foolish after doing so and I fear I shared a little too openly, I am grateful for the manner in which the confidence was received.

After my plane landed in Phoenix, I hurried off the flight and rushed past the security checkpoint and through another in order to catch my next flight. From a different airline. Because my airline is peopled with morons. I had the pleasure to be seated next to a lovely woman named Jasmine. It is funny how conversations often mirror one another. We spoke about college (as Chris and I did), we spoke of blogging (as Chris and I did), we spoke about a couple more things that I can't recollect at the moment. The real interesting thing that Jasmine and I spoke about was virtual and psychological infidelity. She had never given the matter much thought, as I assume, most of the world doesn't. However, having the experiences that I have had, I felt quite familiar with the concept. I compared the action of view pornography with having an affair, Jasmine struggled to understand until she thought of phone sex. She realized then that this was essentially the same concept, though there was no physical touch or interaction, in the minds of the participants, infidelity occurred.

The vast majority of the world would have you believe that what I just stated is a fallacy, that so long as you look, hear, imagine, and don't touch you are being faithful. Yet, the guilt exists the same in every case (at least until the mind becomes desensitized and the person's view skews). I don't think I am explaining very well. Nor do I think I will. I think that this is a danger topic. I think that to truly understand the concept you need to believe that infidelity is wrong. This is not the message sent by the media. This is not the message the masses choose most readily to ascribe to. Love is something uncontrolled, says the media, to try is to kill your soul. True love knows no commitments. Marriage? God? These are archaic notions of the past. Sex is the only definer of love. These are the ideas that we are indoctrinated with from the moment we turn on the radio or television (yes, there are exceptions).

There is always a choice. Love is a choice. Choice is the true definer. Choose to marry. Choose to serve God, Allah, Jehovah, Confucius. To harness your love, to direct it toward the chosen person is to purify it, to focus it. A mallet will bruise the skin, a sword will pierce it. Quality not quantity.

I suppose, however, that it is your choice to choose how you wish to love. All I have is my opinion. I believe in being decisive. I believe in being tenacious. I believe in being "the rock they broke themselves against."

"From the moment they wake, they devote themselves to the perfection of everything they do." -The Last Samurai

Ayn Rand's heroes are samurai.

I said I'd go over what I thought about at work today. I will just touch on it for now. I thought about what I would like to do with my life, what I could do without feeling like the majority of my life was wasted partaking of activities more forgettable than anything else. I thought about the type of work that I would want to talk about after a long day. I realized that I would like to work as a teacher in a foreign country or at least be involved in an organization that sends teachers to teach in foreign countries. My beautiful wife, bless her wise heart, suggested we just start our own company. I like the way she thinks.

Anyway, I have to work early.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

10

Dumb

2010-04-21T23:50:00.000-07:00

So, my post last night wasn't up to snuff, it turns out. This is why I wish I could type as quickly as I think, because trust me, I think in concrete, well worded, spell and grammar checked, sentences.

I suppose there is another solution. I could slow down my thinking, try and become dumber. This solution has merit. Stop reading anything of value. Stop writing. Listen to the radio. Watch Jersey Shore. I could do those things. Plus, let's face it, The Situation's abs are hard to keep your eyes off of anyhow.

Hmm... my mind is beginning to pick up. I will do my utmost to avoid allowing it to reel.

Perhaps one of the reasons we are so constantly bombarded with the meaningless messages of reality TV and music videos is to usher along the process of brain cell destruction. It makes sense. As I wrote a while ago, these entertainment business people know what sells. They've figured out how to trick us into tricking ourselves. Dumb people like dumb shows, movies, music. This opens the door for dumb writers, directors, performers to do their thing without anyone blowing the "wait just one minute" whistle and tell them that all they put out is crap. This leads to executives who are making more money, paying their underlings less (what do they know? They can't count past their current age), and still being hailed as gods by the world at large. That means you Bruckheimer. Here's the kicker, at least tonight's kicker, the executives aren't even as smart as the ones that came before. The system is already in place. The guys that are climbing the ladders in "the biz" are the same guys that you saw at your ten year reunion last year that were still wearing their hair bleached, spiked, and with sun glasses set carefully on top. These are your text book popped collar morons.

Now, to be fair, there are still some intelligent people who make good things. I'm not talking about them though, I am talking about the Romans, having their gladiators grace the sands for the carnal enjoyment of the mob. I am talking about Brett Ratner. I am not talking about J.J. Abrams or M. Night. We all know the good ones in our hearts. It's just a matter of pulling our heads out of the ground and trying to reclaim our intelligence. Dunford does it every day. (If you don't know who Dunford is, you should figure it out. The dude is a role model.) I try and claw my way toward inspiration daily, for all the good it does me.

I paint a pretty bleak picture, I know. But you need to understand that I have faith in us. I have faith that I will be someone to be admired, that you will be someone to be marveled at. We just have to knock Tyra off Oprah's curtails and start supporting people of substance. We have to realize what we were when we started, sponges, and try to squeeze out the muck we've been mopping up for decades.

I believe we can, we should, be better than what we are now.

Fin.

(I just mean finished. I am not insinuating that what I just wrote was some sort of artsy black and white french film.)

I hope that was more coherent for you.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

10

CA

2010-04-21T00:26:00.000-07:00

I wish that I didn't sweat so much. It is extremely annoying.

Anyhow, I read this article today in the break room about this dude who moved from somewhere to California. He stole precious minutes of my break explaining how he didn't appreciate anything about California except for the Lakers. California, of course, having stolen human rights by voting against homosexual marriage and then, to top it off, (and this one really burns me up, CA) the state voted to help protect animals... Animals 1, Humans 0. Bravo California. Bravo.

...No really, Bravo. Let's face it, if I had to decide between spending the rest of my life on a deserted baseball diamond (the island is so overused) I would much rather spend it with my two dogs rather than the majority of the human populace. And by the way, since our good friend So-n-so decided to act like a moron and say that a group of people casting their votes (exercising their right to do so?) is clearly a statement of bigotry and civil unrest, let's give him the old roundhouse. Say what you really mean, the only human rights you want protected are the ones that you agree with. You probably think that taking "In God We Trust" off the dollar isn't a form of prejudice. What's that you say? "Of course it isn't prejudice, Dave. What about separation of church and state?" To say that a activist doesn't have an agenda, condescend to, anyone so foolish (note sarcasm) as to believe in a higher being would just be silly. I'll tell you what, you found a country and then over the centuries I will begin movements that cause the rest of the country to believe they are better off without the principles held by those that championed the freedoms we so selfishly enjoy. Now, I'm not saying we should all be Christian. I am saying respect your country, even if you don't love or agree with it. If it bothers you so much, save up some money and move. Honestly. I am not saying, "If you don't like it, you can get out." I am saying that if the place makes you so sick, leave. Maybe you'll be happier. I hope so. I hope you'd be happy here, but if you think you'd be happier somewhere else, do your thing.

Who am I talking to? Everyone.

The point is, we can bicker and whine about just about everything and get away with it. We can bad mouth and curse any person we see cut us off on the highway and you won't get a ticket (just don't retaliate). All I am saying is that it isn't that difficult to, at least, respect the country you live in, the people that made it what it is, and your fellow men.

Let's face it though, I have countless issues with the way our country is. Mostly with where I see it headed.

There was more I wanted to say, I just can't type as fast as my mind goes. Too bad. I was going to blow your mind. Like blaow! Sorry you missed it.

I'm gonna quit my job and maybe Obama Hood will get me some cash money for it.

Man, I hate politics... if you read this, yes, I thought about the counterpoints as well. I'm sure you all could cut me to ribbons with your Google and Wikipedia, but that's your call.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

9

2010-04-20T09:29:00.000-07:00

I think my back is about to fall off. I just took a bunch of ibuprofen, I think that it might make my back reattach itself or something. I hope you are having an easier time working than you thought you would.

I work until like 9:30 tonight. Hooray. I miss you.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

8

2010-04-18T22:59:00.000-07:00

Right now, I am talking to Terry on vent while I write to you. It is really good to talk to him. I asked him about coming to visit for a while and he was really excited/interested. I told him I'd need to talk to you about it a little more in order to work some stuff out, so we should do that at some point. He also just showed me this: http://games.adultswim.com/robot-unicorn-attack-twitchy-online-game.html which I think you will like.

Work was alright today. I have a feeling it will be incredibly wearing. I missed you terribly last night and when I woke up. The house felt so empty. I am glad you are with your family and quelling your feelings of homesickness.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

10

2010-04-17T22:28:00.000-07:00

Hey, so I was planning on writing before bed last night but I got home and couldn't remember the password for the computer, so I didn't write a thing.

Today, I read an article about the "boys club of video games" that is Gears of War. In the article, the author talked about how in the game, we are only shown one woman who is involved with the military, the rest of the corps is composed of men. The rational being that in the dire circumstances the people of this game found themselves, the lost of their major cities, the collapse of commerce, and the potential extinction of their race, the people of the world had decided that the women should be held back and away from the fighting in order to bear children. This seemed to upset the author. On a surface level, I can understand the irritation. What, with all the talk of equality and how there is nothing a man can do that a woman can't (this methodology doesn't always go the other way, in my experience), it is no wonder that the author of this article might take offense and bring to light the inconsolable injustice of this fictional world's decision.

As you might imagine, if you know me at all, the author's take on the state of Gears world and my own differ greatly. After reading and pondering the words of some guy on the other side of the Internet, I was able to delve into the mindset of a man faced with the complete destruction of every noun (person, place, thing, or idea) I had ever held dear. I attempted to place myself in the mindset of someone who was unsure whether I, or anyone else, would survive to see the dawn. The conclusion I came to was that the author of the article I read must be stuck in the same trap that so much of the First World seems to be entangled in. We don't have to worry about where our next meal comes from or if the next doorway we walk through is rigged with explosives, so we worry about philosophy. We worry about rights. We worry about trees and "the poor" (no, I am not implying that the poor are not actually in poverty, I am saying that the standard of wealth is wholly dependant on what a person values. I believe that many of"the poor" might consider themselves richer than your faux friendly wall street investor). Sorry tangent. Anyhow, my point is, our dear author has failed in his duty to approach a topic with all of the information in hand. When faced with extinction, it is not a question of whether or not a woman is strong enough, courageous enough, willing, or able. The question is one of capability. A man cannot bear a child. A man can aid in the creation of a child and then go off and die in war and the race continues to survive. The same does not hold true for women.

The arguement is raised, what if a woman doesn't want to have children and would rather serve her people in the role of a soldier?

My answer to that is that many men would rather have a child than face death in war. It does not matter whether it is wished for or not, this job, this duty, cannot be done by a man. With a world falling down around you, you realize this or you don't. If you don't you aid the enemy in destroying your species.

That is the metality I set myself in. Of course, it is fiction. It isn't a real scenerio, but if faced with the same scenerio in our world, the logic would hold true. Though both male and female are required to further our species, our biological duties are different, to ignore that is foolish. To ignore that is forgetting that once upon a time our ancestors lived in hovels, married people they weren't attracted to, went to war, stayed back from war; all for the sake of ensuring that the world they helped to mold would have generations to live upon it.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

9

Yeah, This is Totally the Title

2010-04-15T01:33:00.000-07:00

Just finished the first season of Fringe, tonight. Really good show. It kind of bothers me that more good programs aren't picked up and show celebrating debauchery and crudeness remain on the air. Take NBC's Kings, for example, great show. I'm not sure there was an episode that didn't have a moment in it. You know what I'm talking about, that little part of a movie, book, song, t.v. show that gives you chills or brings you to the edge of tears. More than any other show I've watched in recent history, Kings, I think, is the one I am most upset about losing after only half a season (though you can finish the season on Hulu). Bravo NBC, Bravo.

But who am I to understand the mind of an entertainment executive? These are the same soulless beings that think dressing teenagers in next to nothing and having them dance around a stage encouraging yet younger teens (and preteens; you know these are your target audiences... don't play dumb) to experiment sexually using lyrics written by pretentious American Idol hosts is the best way to make money. How could I understand someone that thought X-Men 3 was a good idea? Don't ask me to try, because I will and then I will wake up feeling dead inside just like all of the shmucks in Hollywood who sold their dreams in order to buy their "struggling to make it" mistresses breast implants. By all means Hollywood, blow some more things up in exchange for solid character development, string as many cuss words and racial slurs together in order to relate to the everyman, implant the falsified images of what beauty and sexuality are supposed to be because waiting to have sex is soooo 50's.

Do these things because you know that they work. You know that Americans will continue to tune in to Jersey Shore. You know Ke$ha will still be top of the itunes playlist. You know Cosmo will get more readers than the Wall street Journal. How do you know? We all know it and if we don't we're lying to ourselves. Somewhere along the line, somebody told us that it was okay to watch our guilty pleasure show. In the dead of the night, we told our closest confidants about our guilty pleasure and found out that they had the same one until our guilty pleasures didn't have to be guilty anymore. You got us pegged. You called our bluff. We wanted you to think that we were intelligent, well mannered individuals. Thank you for releasing us from our charade.

We, the world, are morons and you reap the benefit. Sex, drugs, Rock n' Roll, and no consequences. That, my friends, is what I am talking about.

Go Team America.

Rant complete.

All comments justifying Miley Cyrus will be placed respectfully in the garbage can. Thank you.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

9

Tops

2010-04-13T23:48:00.000-07:00

My family is trying to decide on a vacation spot for next year. The following was my initial reply. After some consideration, I decided that I would spare the members of my family my sarcasm as they often find it difficult to bear, let alone find the humor in it that I find. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to delete it entirely as I take such joy in writing things of this nature. Here it is:

My top three are...

Greece/Italy/Spain/Portugal... Any one is fine really.
Europe

All of the choices above are of equal interest to me, place them in whatever order is most pleasing to you... or give them all 3 points.

Oh wait, you wanted me to follow directions? Now, that would be silly to ask for 3 countries (not provinces, states, or continents), it would be much more appropriate if I simply gave you whichever answer in whichever form strikes me at the time. That way, I am able to give more votes to more places I would be interested in going as well as succeed in making my answer so extravagantly broad that no real consideration could be given to it. I am, in fact, so convinced that my decision to disregard the manner and form in which the question was posed is the correct way, I have, instead, concluded that it would be better to delete the post entirely.

Post has been removed at the request of the author.

2010-04-13T01:18:00.000-07:00

You are standing over me demanding my presence in the bedroom... that could mean one of two things... maybe both...? I guess not.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

9

Semi Coherent Rambling

2010-04-12T01:02:00.000-07:00

I am going to write more than a couple sentences tonight. Not many more, but more.

We started watching Fringe yesterday. All I have to say is that Michael Giacchino, you really deserved that Oscar, my friend, truly. Up didn't sport my style of tune, to be honest, but it suited the film incredibly well. However, just about everything else I have heard from you has made you at least top 3 for me. I mean honestly, the music from Lost is the best music on television. It completes an altogether well done series. Giving Up the Ghost; hauntingly mesmerizing, Locke'ing Horns; thank you so much for giving me Charlie's last moments separate from the tumult of Looking Glass Half Full. In short, each character's theme is spot on.

While I am thinking of Lost, why is Desmond such an amazing character? Does anyone else think that the other cast members might be a little peeved that this guy walks on set after they've all established their characters and proceeds to steal every scene that he's in as well as create the most meaningful, memorable, and tear-jerking moments in the series? Keep in mind that I will never forsake the original cast members. How can anyone who's struggled with addiction not find a way to understand the immensity of the battle that Charlie wages throughout the first two seasons? The lack of self control, the failing of trust, the lies told to yourself in the darkness of the corners of your mind... Along a similar vein, how can one not find love for characters like Jin and Sawyer and their individual journeys toward finding the strength to choose a life apart from the one they've each lived. Each deserves a personal post in order to fully appreciate the weight each character carries on screen, but that isn't for tonight. Tonight, like most nights, is for semi coherent rambling.

And just like that, its over. You've awakened me from my reverie.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

10

2010-04-11T00:41:00.001-07:00

You asked me to come to bed. I obey.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

8

2010-04-10T00:05:00.000-07:00

No time. I should be in bed with my tired wife. I do so enjoy this new burst of energy though. Ideas seem to flow more quickly and easily when I write often, go figure.

I think I should like to have Terry read these. Maybe if he's bored.

I think I should like to have Terry up to Spokane this summer. Maybe if I'm bored.

Unfortunately, I spent too much time earlier trying to be funny on my family blog that I feel guilty writing here for too long. Who knew that posting pictures was so time consuming? Lame lame lame post. Might as well put it out of its misery.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

8

Run of the Mill

2010-04-09T01:01:00.000-07:00

When asked about the stylings of her humble husband, the great Stephanie said, "the diction was good." When pressed, she elaborated by relaying to her subdued significant other that the writing was neither poignant nor profound. This exchange between two such affable and amiable associates allays any assessment that affluent abhorrence abides. Man, that sentence took way too long to construct. Anyhow, the point being that even though my wife thoroughly enjoyed reading what I wrote, it was devoid of any substance. That said, it seems that this post stands equally alongside its predecessor as a rambling river of consciousness.

I'd be willing to bet that read blog authors have drafts.

So, along the lines of possible subjects of discussion (with myself), I have thought of a couple things that are able to hold my interest and even provoke a rant from time to time. Here are a few:

The Amazing Race (mostly trying to become a contestant.)
X-Men (and some other comic book lore, mainly Marvel.)
The works of J.R.R. Tolkien (and subsequent compilations put together by others posthumously.)
World of Warcraft (why does the world hate you my dear dear old friend?)
My own story ideas and works of prose and poetry (who doesn't enjoy a little criticism from time to time, really?)
Religion and Politics (Are you kidding me? Do you really think I'm that stupid?)

Man, the conception phase and I get along so well we should start a multilevel marketing scheme. "It's just a small fee of $500 dollars, then ever friend you get earns you $100 back. All I need is your credit card number." And just like that, the conception phase and I have had a falling out. See what I did there?

I should really start looking for profound things to write about. Too bad they only come to me while I am in the shower or in the middle of church. Though both are wonderful places to be, neither make for good places to pull out the ole lap top.

The longest journey begins with a single step, though, I suppose. So, here we go.

I just tried to write poetry... I don't even like poetry. Here we go again.

.

He gasped. The hair on his forearm twitched, the wave of sparking nerve endings coursed through his shoulders up to his hairline and down to his knees. With that first pulse, his eyes came open, slowly, lazily. He could have been waking from a pleasant dream if it hadn't been for the shattering pain that shot along the same nerve endings immediately after. Blurred vision cleared. Thundering hail pounded upon his face and he saw his hand stretched out before him flopping around involuntarily. As his senses slowly came back to him, he forced his arms to obey his feeble entreat. He attempted to push himself off the ground but fell back flat, defeated.

The slap of cold earth brought him fully back to the reality of his present situation. He had been walking home. It started to hail. Something wasn't right. Something pulled at his insides. He tried to turn. He tried to run. Something had come at him, hit him, then nothing.

The thundering of the hail quieted. Yet a low sound lingered, a deep guttural growling...

.

There you go. How's that for run of the mill, wife? Ha! I don't even have a lap top.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

10

Procrastination

2010-04-07T23:45:00.000-07:00

So, procrastination is nice.

Funny how the second day of my newly focused commitment to bloggery excellence I choose to procrastinate writing until 11:45.

Interesting day, I am hoping that through the act of recording my thoughts some semblance of a theme arises that I will be able to focus on throughout the blog. Well, what I mean is a focus beyond the core focus of reminding you that you love me and that you are doing the right thing by doing so.

Should I be serious? Should I be witty? Do I have the capability to be witty? These are the questions that plague me. I bet half the battle in this whole blogging world is considering yourself intelligent or interesting enough for others to want to know more about you. Being of slightly above average intelligence, I hope that my meager intonations and attempts at engaging anecdotes will serve until my muse gives me inspiration. What's more, I consider myself incredibly interesting, the crux of the situation being that I am so jealously guarded about my interests and ideas that I would rarely lower myself to exposing them to the scrutiny of others. Doesn't exactly lend itself to a self-published record shipped off into the variable unknown of the internet.

And just like that, I've written something. Was it clever? *shrug* Was it arrogant? A little. Was it good? More therapeutic than anything else. Not a bad conclusion.

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

9

I Stood Upon the Brink

2010-04-07T00:55:00.000-07:00

The reason for this post is twofold.

First, I have decided that the time for slacking off is over. I promised I would write to you every day. I haven't. That shall be remedied.

Second, I have decided that the time for major writing renovation is come. Far too long has my skill been left to wither and die beneath the weight of my laziness. Too bad that when I decide that I am going to improve my writing, my writing comes out sounding forced and cliche. (Also, I want the little number combo for making the cliche have the proper stress.)

Third, sadly there is a third, as a testament to you and your enjoyment of my writing (feigned or real) I may start writing to the world at large. The only difference that brings is that I may stop writing so often in second person and start doing something different stylistically, though who knows what I'll actually do seeing as how it is 1:00 AM and I'm writing compulsively. You should know also, that regardless of who I deem my audience to be, whether or not my audience ever grows beyond two (thank you mom), you are always at the heart of anything I write. Every word that passes to through the keyboard onto this screen derives from you. If you didn't love what I write, what would be the point?

I love you. I will write to you tomorrow.

9

Liar

2010-03-22T22:42:00.000-07:00

To say anything other than that I have failed you would be a gross understatement. The sadness that I feel at having betrayed your trust so thoroughly once again is inexcusable. As I sit here, I listen to the theme music of The Lich King and the death of Darth Vader. I consider the place of each and though similar in their fall, I hope that my heart will continue beating with hope for redemption. I hope I have the courage to save you and myself as Vader did rather than allow my soul to be consumed by hatred and darkness. The subtle ache in my chest swells as I imagine the end of the Prince of Lordaeron and the utter darkness that shrouds his final moments. Both of these tragic figures began as the hope of their people, both succumbed to fear. My lies show my weakness. They show my fear. Hurting you is my greatest fear. Yet, to do so with truth, though it may still cause pain, would be a much better alternative to hurting your with the greater pain of lies. Each lie weakens trust, each lie is found out, and each lie builds on the ones before. I see my folly. I see my cowardice. Time will be the only recompense I can afford you until trust is regained. I love you.

Boromir

2010-03-17T16:34:00.000-07:00

I often think about my favorite characters in literature, more so now after finishing The Fountainhead. I think of the great heroes: Howard Roark, Harvey Swick, Aragorn... I think of the attributes that set them apart from those others who pursue the course within their adventures. I think of the ideals, the desires, and the willingness to bend to the reality of their present situations. Each time I think of these characters whom I admire so thoroughly I find that I lack the fibers that set them apart and above those others in their stories. I see through the eyes of those characters that could have been and fail. The Keatings, the Wynands, the Boromirs; these are my people. Each achieves greatness in his own way, and each fails to achieve the greatness they desire. I wonder, sometimes, if I have missed the calling I was meant for and if I fancy myself a writer for the purpose of filling the void of my failures with words that justify my shortcomings. Each time I write, a part of me feels that I could write something of worth, I get that nowhere else. Each time I write, I know that my words have been said somewhere else, by someone else more intelligent and eloquent than me. Does that make me a parasite? I champion the unoriginal. I cannot discover and tell a story unique to me, with elements coming from my mind singularly. I do not write well enough to be set apart from the rest of the rabble spouting the same tripe regurgitated by greater men who heard it from greater men than them and so on to the first picture of a man with a spear etched with charcoal on the wall of some primordial cave.

My people, the could have beens, the wanted to bes, the gave ins, are they all cursed with the knowledge of their weakness? Are some lucky souls able to go on through life repeating the words of the guy in the next cubicle and feel as though they are imparting wisdom unto those around them? Envy the ignorant... to some, I'm sure that I am one to envy, ignorant as the rest.

Good day...

Fate and Choice

2009-06-17T11:12:00.000-07:00

Let's talk about fate. I mean, fate is one of those unfortunately cool words that happens to get a lot of attention. Whether it is a silly romantic comedy, the end of the world, or falling down the stairs; everything seems to be able to be blamed on fate.

"Destiny is a name often given in retrospect to choices that had dramatic consequences."
J. K. Rowling

Thank you Joanne Rowling for saying something I can get behind. One of the central focal points of my life is choice. I believe more completely in individual choice than in anything save the existence of God. Now, I'm going to get a bit religious for a second here. God put us on earth for a purpose. He put us here to: get a physical body, to aid Him in giving bodies to more of his children through marriage, and He put us here to take on the burden of choice. It is how we choose to live our lives that will determine what comes after. When I say we, I mean you individually. We are not a collective, my choice today may affect your life or influence a choice you make, but in the end the choice is yours.

Now, along with choice comes accountability. This is a concept that I believe is fading from the world. Bail outs, parents lying and going to prison in order to protect their "innocent" children from the foolish mistakes they have made, the age old conflicts of race and gender, the list goes on; each of these examples present a method for people to forestall their accountability and hand it off to someone else. Is this okay? I would say no. You make the mess, you clean it up.

So, I know many would say, "stop being so narrow minded, there are people that are forced into the life they have." Well, unfortunately no, I'm sorry, save a few outstanding circumstances we all make our beds. Young children are an outstanding circumstance, some forms of mental health issues are outstanding circumstances, but living in a poor neighborhood or a rich one is not grounds for exemption from accountability. If you have the ability to make a choice, you have the ability to change your position. Guess what, you can do it on your own too. You don't need free health care or government money. Now, I am not, repeat NOT, saying that choice is an easy burden. I am not saying that it doesn't weigh more heavily on some than others. I am not saying that simply by choosing to change you will, change requires action and action is a choice in itself.

It is my belief that fate is flawed. It is a very romantic sentiment, true, but I will not (and nor should you) enslave yourself to it. Choose to act, choose not to; but stand accountable for your choices, for what is life but what we choose to make it? No one can do it for you, not even if they tried, because in the end it is all on you. You choose to let someone take a fall for you, its on you. You choose not to steal from someone, its on you. You choose to hurt someone you love, its on you.

Song of the Dark Ranger

2009-06-13T14:05:00.000-07:00

In comfort of night and the shadow,
Does spirit of Dark Ranger reside,
Though forgotten by those he protects,
A vigil he ever will keep.

The heart of the warrior unbroken,
The soul of the wanderer lost,
The call of adventure and riches,
He heeds not for they aren’t his aim,

Only when fell deeds awaken,
The duty and love of his land,
Does warrior forsake his solitude,
And wander the wilds no more,

For upon the fields of battle,
Alone will he stand unbidden,
And if he’s taken to shadow,
Gladly this price will he pay,

In comfort of night and the shadow,
Does spirit of Dark Ranger arise,
For not all that lives in the darkness
Is dark as the evil unbound…

Prodigal

2009-06-13T14:01:00.000-07:00

Pacing ever, one end to the other,
What makes it feel so low?
Waiting to watch you leave good brother,
Don’t look back before you go.

You’ll travel the world and see what I can’t.
Will you think on me ever,
Far away home, toiling to keep the land?
What thoughts will you treasure?

Will you bring me the glorious spices
And herbs of the lost east,
And will you bring back with you their vices,
And together have them on which to feast?

See the great ruined cities of Saracens.
Unearth the stone, too heavy, that was moved.
And I will watch over the flocks, the hens,
Ready the earth we loved.

Fear not, my brother, I’ll be here when you
Realize you’re running away.
Your room will be ready, this I will do,
As long as you come to stay.

Children's Morality Poem

2009-06-13T13:53:00.000-07:00

Meteorface Jones loved looking at stars,
And if he had a telescope, looking at Mars.
He stayed up all the night and slept through day.
Through all the year, the same, on the grass he would lay.

“Great heavens,” he’d cheer at the top of his lungs!
“Pretty stars staring down from the sky where they’re hung
Please don’t ever leave me, don’t go behind clouds!”
And then he’d count each every one out loud.

Long he sat, oh so still, in the long tall grass.
Until his mom forgot him, and the years did pass.
Meteorface kept counting stars without dismay
Until his little tiny frame withered away.

And so my friends, a lesson taught,
If you’ve learned or if you’ve not,
Do not waste your days away staring at heaven.
You just might raise the body count of laziness to seventy-seven.

Meh... Politics

2009-06-11T12:46:00.000-07:00

So, I was just thinking, I sometimes wish I knew more about politics. I'm not going to lie, I enjoy a good argument from time to time, and politics are a prime ground for arguing. Now, I used to consider myself an independent, but I've always had conservative leanings. What pushed me fully to the conservative side is, and this may sound lame, but I cannot stand how being liberal is "cool" nowadays. Anyway, I don't want to go into that. People can't deal with that conjecture because they all have become so bloodthirstily ignorant in their liberal propaganda. Damn it, I'm going into it. These kids are like wanna-be gangsters. I learned in elementary school that the wanna-bes are more dangerous than the real gangsters because they feel like they have something to prove. Now, apply that to politics, which are incredibly difficult to stay current on for even an intelligent person, and you find a bunch of dumb people thinking that because they saw a CNN special on Miss California they are now political experts. They get riled into a frenzy by extremists and people just as full as bigotry as they accuse their conservative cousins as being. Anyhow, I really wasn't going to go into that, but I did. It does kind of lead in to what I was going to talk about though.

Celebrities, I just re realized are just about the scum of the earth. Well, I should say vocal celebrities, and I should say too that the celebrities I'm talking about are cut from the same cloth as the referred to above morons caught up by the fervor of their peers. Okay, so a generally well considered idea is that you tend to surround yourself with people who think similarly to yourself, correct? There are exception, family, old friend etc., but this idea is valid if you ask me. Imagine though, if you will, being placed in an environment where if you disagree with your peers, they have the power to slander your name not only to your other peers, but to the world at large, scary right? I know. This, in my approximation, is Hollywood. Hollywood is a liberal breeding ground. The worst part is, barring the exception of an actual informed person, these people feel like because they have money their opinion matters. Here's the kicker, these people can afford to believe whatever they want because they're making so much money that tax, recession, etc. won't affect them. So, they use their popularity and the "cool" factor to sway the weak minded to believe whatever they want them to. I'm about eighty percent sure that if Brad Pitt decided he believed that we should move to the British form of democracy and got vocal about it, it would catch on pretty quick. Now, I like Brad Pitt, cool dude, but I'm not going to let him lead me around like a dog on a leash. NO BRAD! NOT TODAY!

Anyway, my wife is yelling at me because I'm late for class. The general message here is to think for yourself, really. Don't think for the self you have constructed to fit the mold your friends decided was okay, but really, what you believe. It's likely too late and I'm talking to a deaf audience, but this is how I feel, and this is why I was pushed to truly choose a side in the political realm. I chose what I believe to be a side that promotes family, patriotism, and hope and change.One love.

Warrior

2009-06-11T12:44:00.000-07:00

Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed the smirk that creeps across my face.

Don’t imagine my eyes can’t see what you see.

A land plagued by undead, the human race is dying.

And only you have the will to stop it.

Visions of sapphire and azure kept.

Deep within your heart you know-

Only there will the bright jewels remain untouched.

In the past, gentleness was in my mind.

Before it was realized that only the hard earned respect.

Delivery always seems to suit me,

K. Alright. You bet.

Unchallenged in its place, the blade of a Japanese soldier leans against my wall.

So much like the warrior who could not find deliverance.

Longsword, lovemaking, luggage, locks.

Lovely luminescent laments leaving lives lost.

I am of average height and have dark features,

Darkest of which are my eyes.

Subtlety and deception have such a negative connotation,

But they can be used for good.

Clothes? I suppose I feel the same no matter what I wear.

What comfort is there in comfort?

But I never forgot what it was to be gentle.

And I took comfort in that.

However I see the world, I never forget that the world

Includes you, and you are life.

First Post

2009-06-11T12:43:00.000-07:00

Well, my first post... not really sure what direction I want to take this blog thing. I don't even really like the word blog. It has a stigma about it, I don't know, it makes me feel foolish.

So, the reason I wanted to make this thing is to post my ideas on stories and hopefully gain some insight from responses. My biggest worry is that my ideas will be stolen, but then, what are my ideas but my own interpretation of the ideas of those I admire?

I hope that if you choose to post on my blog, not that it will ever get viewers other than my sweet wife and equally sweet mother, that you do so respectfully. I will respond with the same respect accorded me.