Chiseled

By the time I arrived in middle school, I had already decided to hate the world. Young, I know, but something hit me around the age of 12 that made my eye brows shroud and my eyes glow with some sort of anger only war vets come home with. Maybe it was watching my mother pass in front of me. Maybe it was the awkward height I had achieved at such a young age. I'm not sure. But I do know that look I inherited, that dark, dont fuck with me or I'll attack you look, stayed around until this very day and I'm beginning to wonder if there's anyway to reverse it.

I'm proud of myself though. Sincerely, I am. I have made an enormous shift in my life these past few months and its been nothing but difficult. I've wanted to give up. I've wanted to curl up inside of my own desperate depression and disintegrate into what it was I thought I was meant to be: nothing. Just nothing. I wanted to be nothing as much as I thought I already was and that mind space was hardly living in slow motion. Time stood still. And not in that 'god, I hope this moment lasts forever', Hollywood-esque, dancing in the rain type way. It was that ' fuck, its still 3:30. I'm just going to go back to bed' type way and that was no way to live. So I got on my feet. Got off the god damn couch and slowly baby stepped the fuck outta life. Inching my way back to where I should be at 24. I shaved my stupid beard, got back to the gym, got my last semester of school lined up so I can graduate and then got a job. All in all, I feel good right now. I can't really articulate the change I did in here, but I can tell you that it was long over due. It's been beautifully painful. This year, I've conquered my universe and built a new one but after all of it, I am still constantly haunted by the exterior I've hardened over the years.

My job is bullshit, I'm not going to lie. I work at this new fine dining place in the entertainment district washing dishes for 9 dollars an hour. Its really hard on my back and its really disgusting but its a job. Also, it makes my hands extremely smooth. And I get to wear a fancy chef coat. Those are positives. Anyway, while I was closing down the kitchen tonight, the head chef came in with the other cooks and said,

'The faster you close this down, the faster drinks are on me.'

I thought this was a nice gesture. It wasn't going to make me go any faster than I already was, but I was kind of looking forward to grabbing a drink with my new co workers. After maybe 10 minutes, my work was done and so I went out to the bar to clock out and catch up with them. They weren't around. I went up to his office and he wasn't there either. Even though I was the only one in the kitchen when he said that, I guess he wasn't talking to me. I grabbed my hat and my coat and made my way to my car.

On my way to the parking lot, I saw 3 old friends from high school. Not close friends, but we were cool. They didn't really recognize me until they got closer and then we shook hands and said whats up. But that was it, they just said it was good seeing me and that was it. I got in my car and drove home.

While I was driving, I began to wonder what it is about me that makes me so unapproachable and seem so unfriendly. I'm truly a nice guy. I dont mean any harm and I like to have meaningful conversations and if your not in the mood for that, I like to go out and have a good time too. But new people rarely see that. All they see is the mean mug I've chiseled into my bone structure over the years and I guess its not one you'd go outta your way to be nice to. It sucks to say this, but people just dont like me. And if they do, they have to warm up to me. I hate that... Sometimes, I just wish I didn't look this way. Even though I know this is who I am and I should embrace it and smile anyway, its extremely tough.


Most days, I wish that people could just see my heart. Not my height or my clothes or the scowl that happens to be my relaxed facial expression. None of that. If they could, I'm sure they'd like me. But until that magically unlikely day happens, I'm going to keep trying to be likable. To others, and to myself.

Theres only a few things in life that I would argue to death about. Things that I believe so strongly in that for you or anyone to say anything to me about would be damn near equal to lighting a match around gun powder. I get serious. Real quick. So thats why I feel safe saying that

I've witnessed some events in my life. Some great, and some not so great. But by far,

the hardest, most heart wrenching, knee weakening thing to try to deal with in life is
losing someone.

I dont care who you are or what your past is or how tough and rugged you can be, you can be Waka Flocka and the loss of a close friend or a daughter would still shatter you into pieces. It doesn't matter. Nothing can accurately describe that feeling when you hear it. Its completely foreign and uncomfortable every time. You dont believe it. You question when the last time you saw them was and what you said to them and what you could have maybe, possibly done to stop them or be there for them. Its horrible. Its helpless.

Today has happened far too many times this year. 2011 has been full of extremely scary realities and its been quite deterring. I'm sick of bad drugs and losing people on behalf of them or their conclusions. Its extremely difficult to try to be okay with the that lesson. Its simple and its harsh. But all it ultimately teaches you is that:

its going to keep happening so brace yourself.

I'm sure it gets easier with time and as I age but right now, in my early twenties, that shit is tough. We shouldn't be passing away from this shit. We're still young and supposed to rage and do stupid crazy shit until were 30 and then settle down and grow up. That's how I see it. That shit just doesn't happen to us.

I have a lot of friends in scary situations right now. Whether its in the war or with their vices or what we did to our insides back in high school, theres a bunch of us. And I keep wondering who's going to be the next story.

I just saw you down the street man. I swear. I totally meant to stop over last week but I didn't and that sucks. You were one crazy unique guy. Give Jesus a high five or something cool.

Harsh Realities

Most days its hard for me to look back on my child hood and see all the enjoyment I know I had. Those moments, as vast and abundant as they are, are lost somewhere among losing parents and never growing past 5'6 so sometimes, I forget that I was raised very privileged. I had the all American home for a good chunk of my younger life; the dad with a 401k, the mom that cooks every meal and takes us to the store with her, the riding in shopping carts and climbing trees and coming home with mud stains and bruises knowing I'd be sleeping in my own bed that night. Comfortable middle class living. But as much as I can state those things, drool them off my fingers like any other image I summon up, I dont necessarily remember them. I know they're there. Tucked somewhere in my subconscious and so its difficult to even look back that far and see any form of good that happened. I mean, I used to be crazy. Not that I'm not now, but I mean swallowing pennies and getting them stuck in my throat so I dont have to go to school, crazy. I used to sing regularly. Which, if you were to sneak up on me while I'm doing the dishes today or any other remedial task that I do privately, you might catch an awkward note or two. (But you wont because I will surely play it off like I was clearing my throat or talking to myself. Just saying.) However, one thing that I wish I could have carried over into my adult life, even on this every 'once in a blue moon' type basis, is dreaming on the never ending scale of possibilities we used to have. I miss that. Its ridiculous to me to think that we used to walk around believing we would conquer the world. That we would become president or walk on the moon or take over lead vocalist in AC/DC or transform into a unicorn. But now a days, we'll settle for flipping burgers and going to a community college. I can't help but wonder when it was that we all started giving up on those dreams. When we decided to put them away in shoe boxes filled with pictures and memories so that one day we could look back at them, laugh and say "god I was silly".


My buddy came back from Las Vegas today. I didn't know why, I just saw it in my news feed and told him to get at me. Earlier this week, I had noticed he changed his status back to 'married' on the good ole book. I figured he had rekindled shit with his ex or something and decided to come back to the mitten. I dont know, I didn't think about it too much. I just knew that they split up. He had gotten back from the war and she had changed too much or did too much behind his back and he just didn't want to be a part of it anymore. Kind of a long story. But I remember spending hours on the phone talking with him about what he should do and shouldn't do with this relationship. It definitely took a tole on him and it was the last thing he needed after Afghanistan. So they split and as you can guess, I was a little thrown off by the fact that they were back together. Not that its my business or that I would scold him or anything bitchy, but I was pretty curious. I mean, she was a piece of shit in my book and the simple thought of him getting back with her made me a little worried for him. I got over to my brothers earlier tonight and asked him if he knew what was going on.

"You talked to T?"

"Yeah, that was just him on the phone."

"He coming over here?"

"He said he was going to in a little bit."

"Right on, what the fuck is he thinking?"

"What you mean?"

"With that girl, I thought they split up a while ago for obvious reasons. What the fuck is he doing?"

He looked over at me and said simply,

"Dude, she died"

I didn't really have anything to say. I just sat there silent feeling pretty bad about harking on her and calling her a piece of shit. Thats rough stuff. Death is never a good thing. Even if I only knew her a little and hung out with her a few times, thats never good news or what you want to hear. Then the puzzle got put together: this is the reason my boy was coming home. It wasn't because they found love or were trying to get back together. Its because shes gone.

His wife passed away from a heart attack. She was 21. Obviously, it was not because of natural causes. It was because, like many others in my community, she ruined her liver and her kidneys with heroin. Its sad to say that I used to be a member of this epidemic, but I was. I know the allure to the drug. I know the hand cuffs it puts on you. I know the revolting feeling you get in the morning and how you want to punch everyone who talks to you. Its no fun, honestly. And I'm sure anyone who has ever been on it doesn't go a day without hoping tomorrow they will stop. Unfortunately, it usually doesn't happen like that. Usually it happens similar to this. With pain and trauma and death.

At one point in her life, this girl wanted to conquer the world. She wanted to be something and do something. I may not have known her well, but I know this. Its universal. Somewhere along the line though, somewhere between Polly Pocket and now, she gave up on that excursion for an easier, more dangerous one. I dont know why that happens. Why is it that we aim for the stars but tend to only get as far as the stop sign down the street? Why is it that were okay with that? Are we scared? Or is it because life slaps real into us really fast and real doesn't equal unicorns or the NBA. Somewhere along the way, we lose hope. We slide into patterns and bad habits that make failure less devastating. I can vouch for this. I've been there. And because I have the disease that I do, I will continue to go back to those paradoxical survival tactics when times get rough enough. I dread that day.

But until then, I'm going to focus on living. I'm going to think about what the 6 year old me would say to the 24 year old me about what I'm doing with my life. I'm sure he'd be a little disappointed. I didn't end up as confident as he is. I didn't end up playing basketball or pulling a lot of women. Sorry, 6 year old me, I might have dropped the ball on your dreams. I'm truly sorry I let you down. But I haven't given up. I haven't pulled the trigger and I haven't over dosed and I'm still here through it all. My dream now might not be yours but try to meet me half way. If you understand that I'm not going to be president, and that I'm not going to be tackling the next first round draft pick from Alabama next year, and that I'm really not going to do anything you once thought was cool...

I'll promise you that you will become one strong little guy... One with some great stories, an even greater heart and an undying search for happiness. I'll promise that you'll still watch cartoons and giggle at weird shit and sing like your infront of a crowd of thousands, taking over lead vocals for AC/DC. But most importantly, I promise that you'll smile. I hope thats a dream you and I both can share.

Recent revelations

I stumble across learning experiences daily. Everyone does, but a lot of people are too afraid or too stupid to understand they are happening. Open your fucking eyes, the date is changing. The world is turning. So here are some more tidbits of insights I've picked up in the past few weeks.


1. If a stripper asks you what your deal is, just smile at them. Sometimes you'll make the mistake of sitting up at the stage because your drunk and enjoy the current stripper. Just realize after that stripper, theres probably one that you will not like. She might be all bones. Or a man. However, its fucking rude to walk away. Fight the urge to tell them they just scared your penis. Simply smile and throw a dollar at them.

2. If there is anything your dreading to do, just do it already. The weight of anxiety and over thinking is far worse than actually doing it.

3. Give people the benefit of the doubt. Just because one person fucked your heart up or your trust up or crashed your car does not mean the next person will. Walking around with automatic walls is worse for you then it is for them.

4. You aren't entitled to shit. Remember, we came into this world with nothing but a family. And the lucky ones of us will leave the same way. Everything else is small matters. Including your god damn ipad.

5. Sometimes you end up hanging out with people you swore you'd slit your wrists before you see them again. It happens. The mark of maturity is what you do in that situation. Confront whatever past issue you had, either internally or with them, and move the fuck on. Dont be a bitch about it and leave and go cry in your car for the next 15 minutes because this dude slept with your girlfriend back in 10th grade. He probably saved you from more pain than you know. Thank him.

6. If you fall into my life somehow, understand that my heart has and will have a no vacancy sign above it indefinitely. If I catch any more creepy ass holes trespassing on or near it, I will have you shot.

7. If you ever wonder what life was like during prohibition, look around. If you ever wonder how eras transition out of prohibition, look around. We are witnessing a monumental movement in tolerance and acceptance right now and it is only going to broaden. Brace yourselves.

8. People dont change, they learn. If they dont learn, they're just pieces of shit. Slap them.

9. The best form of communication is with your mouth. If you ever catch yourself tweeting or texting or emailing more than you talk, you will realize how unfulfilled you truly feel with your social life. Just because facebook turned many of us from haters into likers does not mean this evolved bullshit is entirely positive.

10. Be thankful. I have recently developed a huge fear of losing one of my senses, mainly eye sight, and its made me understand how truly blessed I am. I have a great body that works how it was meant to. Most days, thats enough of a reason to smile.

11. If you label yourself open minded, stop having such a closed fucking mind. Seriously. I can't tell you how many people I've known who claim to be a free spirit or understanding or 'I love new things' and the next second, are shooting down any bit of relevant or new or different that comes their way. Have some self awareness. If you dont like it, you dont like it. But if you dont give it a chance because 'you know what you like' or whatever the automated response is, dont try to lie to yourself or me. I get it. I mean, me, myself- I've never really tried being open minded until about the middle of last year. But every time someone would ask what I was about, I would always say ' I'm really open minded'. Shit, I was not. Far from. I fuckin hated on everything that wasn't cool to me and that tended to be everything I didn't simply give a chance. But in the past year or so, I have gained not only a respect, but an admiration for almost all forms of dance, for every form alternative genre of music you could mention... except country, I hate that shit... but style and philosophies and mantras and actions and lifestyles and what I read and what I enjoy doing even, all shifted. And I'm not going to sit here and say I'm exponentially happier now or I'm an awesome person now or more wise or nothing. I will say that I've tried to be open minded and I can rightfully state that. Thats all.

Lastly,

12. Love your dog WAY TOO MUCH. For real. They're only here for a decade or so and we still end up loving them like children. So spoil the fuck out of them. Right? Let them take your spot in bed. Let them jump on you and squeeze themselves between the couch and your shoulder. Let them lick your fucking face! THEY ARE DOGS, thats how they love. Give them horrible delicious food every once and a while because honestly, food is 83% of their enjoyment. Right next to sleep and licking their genitals. I'd want to eat this pop tart too if thats the options I had.... Use tones and words that they love regularly, even if this means talking in a baby voice and saying 'Do you wanna chip???' or speaking complete jibberish. Fuck it. Also, dont discipline them for being silly. Its like giving a kid some adderal for being normal. They're doing dog stuff, let them do dog stuff. If they press your hand REPEATEDLY while its on the mouse and make you highlight everything you just wrote and replace it with ===-----====-=-=-==-=--==-===========-==-===-========-=-==

so what? they're just trying to tell you to stop being so serious. Laugh a little.