Legendary Fool

Malus Memorium

2012-12-26T00:18:00.001-08:00

We all have bad memories.

Decisions we made that we regret, or if not regret then wish we had chosen differently.

We all have had awful tastes in our mouths... felt dirty, unclean.

We've all said or done something that hurt someone... whether intended or not.

We've all had things said or done to us which rend us, make us weep. Events which crushed our spirits, broke our hearts, traumatized us. Sometimes, we weren't on the receiving end of these things... and that can be so much worse.

These all live in our memories. They define us, along with the good. So don't throw out the bad memories. Keep them locked away for a time, until the pain has dulled somewhat. Remember them, along side the happy times. Do not dwell on them, but learn. The ugly truths are what make life so much more beautiful. Cherish the good times, because they are worth living for, alongside the bad.

Tempus Fugit. Memento Mori. Macto Vita.

Merry Christmas, Dear Reader. And to all, a good night.
(cliche, but appropriate I think.)

Love always,
The Legendary Fool

Even in my dreams, I can't get the girl.

2012-11-02T12:43:00.001-07:00

Weirdest dream to date. Don't remember much, but I didn't get the girl. Douchebag brain is at it again! I'll show that subconscious fool what for, and prove him wrong yet.

Clarity

2012-10-31T12:56:00.002-07:00

It being Halloween, and with politics pretty much dominating the media, I thought I'd post about another scary topic: Religion. (Queue lightning, dramatic organ, etc.) **Everything I write here is my opinion, unless it's backed by fact, so suck it**

Those of you dear readers who know me personally have probably heard, overheard, or guessed that I'm a closet atheist, with or without knowing how I define being a closet atheist. I felt this needed some clarity, and given some of the recent events in my life I also felt I needed to cut the bullshit, stop joking, and be serious for a few moments. Explain myself, as it were. So here it goes.

When I said I was a closet atheist, what I really meant was this... I wanted to believe in a benevolent God, but couldn't. Whether or not there was a God wasn't the question, it was why does God deserve my worship, my faith. I was more of a Deist... that is, I believed in a hands off, clockwork universe. God created the universe, set it into motion, laid down the laws of physics, gave us the abilities we needed to thrive in our universe, and... left. Or stayed, and watched. Either way, He was an absentee landlord. Miracles? Statistics. Divine knowledge? Hallucination.

I am of the opinion that if you are able to prevent evil, but don't, then you are just as responsible for that evil. Does God want to prevent evil, but can't? Then he is not all powerful. Is he able to, but doesn't want to? Then he is not benevolent. So willing and unable, good for Him. Able but unwilling? Why worship Him? And really, that's as far as I took it. That's as far as I COULD take it, back then. I wanted to believe, I wanted to belong and be loved, and I wanted an afterlife. I just couldn't make that connection.

It was only recently, over the last few months, that I realized how prideful I was being. The last year has been one of great trials, and more importantly of great understanding. So let's move on from what was, and notice what is.

I realized something. Things... stopped mattering. Things I lived for, things that made life worth living, made life meaningful... had no meaning themselves. So I moved on. I realized what DID matter. I realized WHO mattered... and realized just how prideful I was being. I DESERVED a good job because I was me, because I earned it just by living. I DESERVED love, because I loved. It was not an epiphany moment, but a slow realization. It was very humbling, and not a little depressing. To go for so long believing that you were right, that you were good... then realize how shitty you really are. Then I heard something that made a click.

As it turns out, God doesn't need you to know he exists. I knew that, I just didn't realize it. In fact, what makes Him so wonderful is that I KNOW he can't exist, but still believe that He does. It's an abstract concept, but bear with me.

I know that rainbows are just light radiated from the fusion reaction refracting through water molecules in the air to create an optical illusion... but that makes them no less beautiful, and no less romantic. I know what rain is, and how it happens, but I'm no less awed by it. In fact, this was the epiphany moment. I found myself at peace, and when I did, I was able to see. A single rain drop made my heart fill with unadulterated, stupid joy. It was wonderful. It was simple. It was a little thing, that meant so much.

I am imperfect. I've known that, I've just never accepted that. God doesn't care, and again, I've known that, and I've accepted that. I felt that I could do everything without God or anybody else. I empowered myself, lived in the moment, and was left hollow for it. I hit rock bottom in that mindset, and had nothing left but me. It was a wonderful gift. It gave me peace.

A lot of people talk about giving things up to God. It's good advice, but I think it needs a little more... clarity. God helps those who help themselves... so do everything you can to help yourself. When you are done, give what is left to Him. Don't spend your energy worrying.

A friend told me a few years ago a wonderful tale, probably originating from the Cherokee, but I could be wrong as there are many similar stories. It went something like this...
An old man is teaching his grandson about life. "A fight is going on inside me, a terrible fight between two wolves. One is evil, he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greet, self pity, guilt, resentment, pride, and ego. The other is good, he is joy, peace, love, hope, humility, benevolence, empathy, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you, and every other person."
The grandson thought for a few moments and finally asked, "Grandfather, which wolf will win?"
Grandfather replied, "The one you feed."

It took me a long time to realize which wolf I should be feeding, because the tale fails to mention that both wolves look identical, and both promise you the same thing. I still struggle with pride, among other things. I still don't let many people in. But I've found a new peace. Loving, and expecting nothing in return. Living, and doing good work, regardless of payoff. Having faith... even when I don't believe. I noticed something else the other day. I don't run my mouth nearly as much as I used to. I like this me a lot more.

Thanks for listening to the end.

Another trip, just as strange

2012-09-13T22:01:00.002-07:00

Dear reader. I have failed you.

Between work, work, and work, I've not made the time to update. For that, I am not sorry. I am regretful it could not have been better, circumstances had been more fortunate, but alas, they were not.

Speaking of work. Six jobs in six months. GO ME! Landed a sweet job, got laid off. Worked at a bank, got laid off. So now I sell guns. For minimum wage. FML.

Still, there are far worse jobs. I'm a glorified sales position. I face death every time the door opens. Speaking of which, just the other day, a lady walked up to the counter with some holsters. Next thing I know, she's pulling her fully loaded, no safety firearm out of her concealed holster. No warnings. No "i'm going to take out my gun and try these" (which, by the way, we don't allow). She was about one twitch away from three 45 caliber holes in her fucking face.

I've never killed anyone before. Hell, I've never even been in a fight that didn't end almost immediately. It's sobering to know that I'm not afraid to pull my gun and shoot someone if I have to, but holy shit. I almost killed a person. Fuck, only reason she's alive is I was faster than her. By the time she was out of her holster I had my gun out and safety off. Of the thirty thousand things going on in my mind, the one thing that stopped me was "if that points at me or anyone but the floor, she's dead. If that MOVES TOWARD me or anyone, she's dead". So she drops the mag, ejects the LIVE FUCKING ROUND onto the floor, and I put mine away. She then has the gall to go "so will these fit my gun?" To which I reply "mam, you just pulled a loaded fire arm in my lobby. I almost shot you. Your firearm needs to remain holstered unless you are in the range or need arises. If a cop had seen that, you would have your permit revoked." Know what she said?

"Oh... okay. So will these fit then?" Like I just told her her jeans were too tight.

Fuck you lady. Fuck you to death.

Minimum wage? I think I'm underpaid.

So, for my next post... RELIGION! :D

Oh, and about the story...

2012-04-16T20:54:00.000-07:00

It'll have to wait. SUSPENSE! Actually it probably won't happen. CLIFF HANGER!

Fate. Feh.

2012-04-16T20:48:00.000-07:00

It's one of the days where I just straight up feel useless. No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I struggle, today is a day that makes me feel pointless.

Screw em all. I am me.

Tomorrow will be a grand day.

On a slightly lighter note, I am enjoying my new job... for the most part. Today was one of the days that just straight up sucked. Still, I'm learning, and picking it up pretty quick (for having never done anything like this, which I think my boss keeps forgetting...) Soon I'll be able to move out, start going back to school, and who knows. Maybe I'll meet someone along the way.

Fate? Feh. I am me because I choose to be.

A lot has changed

2012-02-05T22:55:00.000-08:00

A good long while ago, one of my good friends started a little fiction experiment. It was a neat read, and kinda fun to brainstorm and toss around ideas, but as with most things, fell to the wayside in lieu of those "important" things like "work" or "girls" or "friends"... whatever the hell those are.

Anyway, point is, I fully intend to steal the shit out of his idea and start my own little fiction experiment. Nerd warning: this is a World of Warcraft setting. It will have pictures. There will be comedy. It might be totally lame. OR COMPLETELY AWESOME! But probably totally lame.

So we'll see where it goes. IF it goes.

It all begins about seven years ago with an up and coming Night Elf who one day would just... fade away... (meta joke there. Did you get it?)

The raging

2012-02-01T20:45:00.000-08:00

I really am tired of raging. I feel as though I'm just a walking bitch wagon, and I don't even have that pms excuse the ladies always rave about. Still, there's something slightly therapeutic about screaming my frustration at a computer monitor knowing only about 3 people I actually know will hear (or in this case, read) it.

Dear reader, it has been such a long time. I've forsaken you for other, more pressing things, like staying sane, paying bills (yes, despite popular belief, I do have them), and I'm sure there were some other very important things that my scorched mind hasn't quite remember the words for.

The other day I literally forgot the ENTIRE ENGLISH LANGUAGE for a space of about five minutes. That's how burnt out I am. Words were coming out of folks mouth that sounded familiar, but were basically gibberish. Apparently I was speaking Klingon (which is weird, that's one of the few fantasy languages I only know a spattering of) or some shit.

A job kind of fell into my lap a few months ago. December 5th, to be exact. Up to that point, I was eyeballs deep in school work and job hunting. The job I ended up finding is full time, which is nice... I guess... but I feel a lot like I've been bait and switched. "Oh" they said, "you make 10 bucks an hour to start! Oh, and BENEFITS! (...that aren't really included and cost about a weeks pay a month and aren't really accepted anywhere) Oh, and once you're done with training you'll make (on average) about 12 bucks an hour! (except you won't really if you have anything resembling a work ethic and/or morals.)

It's at a call center, which you can guess is horrid to begin with. And guess what! The high school dropout next to me makes 15 bucks an hour because he doesn't give a shit if he helps the people or not. What do I get for exemplary customer service? A balloon. What the fuck am I, five? It's not even a cool balloon either, some dumbass silver star. NOT EVEN A GOLD STAR.

Still, a lot of people would murder me and desecrate my corpse while praising Jesus, Buddha and Spongebob for a shot at my job. The problem I have with it is academic. I am worth more money than I'm making. A LOT more money. And I've proved it... many times over.

But I"m TOO smart to get experience. I'm too inexperienced to get experience. Oh, and to top it all off, I'm too old to be out past ten o clock at night. That's right, I turn 23 in two days and I have an earlier curfew than when I was 13. What the mother fuck.

"Move out!" is your first suggestion. "To where!?" is my first response. I can't afford an apartment on my own, at least not one where all my shit won't be gone the day after I move in. "Room mates!" Okay... ones that do drugs or ones that are deadbeats? Cuz honestly, those are the only options I've found.

I've done my homework. A 10 pm curfew, bullshit as it is, is a lot better than most of my alternatives.

Still. Things are starting to look up. I'm working on a project that might land me a decent gig. I'm looking into some job leads that are popping up in my actual field of choice (WITH TRAINING OMFG).

Oh, and there's some pretty awesome people I still get to see relatively often. They make this bullshit worth it. Well. They make it bearable.

So until next time dear reader. I've missed you. I already feel a little bit better.

Oh, and before I forget... who wants to hear a story?

Dear Reader

2011-09-14T20:02:00.001-07:00

I miss you.

I don't like feeling like this.

2011-06-21T00:15:00.000-07:00

No one does. Yes, there is something to say of willpower and keeping positive attitudes. Still, the mind is a complex thing, and to deny one part of it is to deny the whole. Accept that part, do not let it control you, but acknowledge it. Count to three. Then ten. Then a hundred.

I consider myself a gentle man. I am slow to anger. I am rich in trust. I am deep in thought, and reserve my words as best I can. Still. It takes a special person to earn my respect, a good person to earn my love, and a very unique person to return it. In turn, it takes a special person to lose my respect. A horrid person to earn my hate A very unique person to make me hate myself.

I have found the latter. A person that makes me honestly hate so much that I feel physically ill, and want to spit and wash myself to get this... horrid feeling off of me.

I try to focus on other things. Brighter things. New friends. Old friends. Family that loves me. Family that tolerates me. A good book. Yet my mind falls to that which I cannot explain, the idiocy. The hypocrisy. The irreverence, the disrespect.

How can a person act thus and still consider themselves a person? I care not for the reason behind their disdain. Tolerance is what makes us people. Not skill. Not tall buildings. Not money, certainly. People that refuse to even acknowledge any point of view but their own are ignorant animals, undeserving of the title of person. I don't mean to say one shouldn't believe what they believe. I mean to say that one should honestly consider what someone else has to say, to look at them not as you, but as someone else. If you look at a statue on one side, you have a pretty good idea of what the other side is, but to think your side is best without seeing or even acknowledging that there even IS another side, is simple foolishness and idiocy.

So in closing. You are NOT all knowing. You are NOT perfect. You are NOT better than anyone else because you have more education, more power, more money, a better situation. I am a person. I am me. I have my own problems. I have my own situation. I have my own way of dealing with emotional stress, finances, and my own priorities.

Here's the deal

2011-06-04T11:50:00.000-07:00

We had a "serious, sit down discussion", like you wanted. We made THE RULES. It's your house. I respect that, and while it is frustrating that I'm (your words, not mine) "A full grown adult" who has the same curfew as minors, I follow it because again, it's your house, your rules.

Here's the thing though. I'm in college. I have a hard lights out Sunday through Thursday. That, I'm afraid, DOESN"T WORK. Again, though, I'm forced to acquiesce. Friday and Saturday (it's in writing, so fuck you) I very clearly DO NOT HAVE A LIGHTS OUT. PERIOD. Why, then, do you come in after midnight and yell at me to "stop being a vampire?" Do you not understand what a vampire is? Because I assure you, I am not one.

Now that I've pointed that out to you, reasonably, articulately, etc. you've assumed a new tactic. "If I make him get up early enough he'll HAVE to go to bed when I want him to. To that, I have this to say: Grow up.

You don't control me anymore; I LET YOU make the rules. I COULD move out, but my quality of life would (I know, sounds crazy) be shit, and it'd just be a whole new bucket of stresses.

So let me outline something for you. I follow your rules, I get yelled at and have to deal with the (usually hollow) threats. I DON'T follow your rules, I get yelled at and have to deal with the (usually hollow) threats, with a slew of insults thrown at me for good measure.

So I really don't see the difference. I'll just continue doing whatever the fuck I want because either way, I'm gonna get the same consequences. Feels good to get that outta my system.

Connundrum...

2011-05-24T23:25:00.000-07:00

Boy tells girl he's madly in love with her. Girl tells boy she loves him but just isn't ready to be in a relationship. Boy tries to understands, respects girl's answer, and moves on. Except... boy can't move on. For, you see, boy IS in fact madly in love.

I feel that we all have layers to our hearts. Every individual has different layers, in different order. Family might be one layer, while friends another. Some people have fewer layers than others, some people might share layers. I like to think, though, that we all have a special place at the very center for that special someone who will one day complete us.

Took the CBEST today

2011-05-23T20:08:00.000-07:00

It was SLIGHTLY more difficult than my high school exit exam. That being said, I finished my HSEE in 20 minutes. The whole exam. Just saying lol.

Seriously though, once I get my writing portion results back, I should be able to substitute teach. That should help a LOT. I might even be able to move out AND fix my car! WOO!

So this is depressing

2011-05-18T21:15:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about it for quite a long time. I've decided that I've chosen the wrong major, for many reasons which I'm sure you're just dying to hear, but long story short, it's not what I thought it was.

Most of the reason I chose this major is because I was told it will give me the skills and experience I would need to do what I want: be a level designer and help create games.

While this is true to an extent, this path also did many other things. It showed me the nitty gritty of what the game design field is, the competitive side of it, and more importantly the likelihood of me getting INTO a position that I wanted to be in at any time in the near or distant future.

Long story short is this: I don't want to make video games from the ground up. I don't want to make the tools to make the video games, I WANT TO MAKE THE VIDEO GAMES. There IS a distinction there.

It's my own fault. I honestly didn't know. I honestly didn't make any effort to find out. No one is to blame but myself. I trusted that what I was told was true, because why would they lie or offer me false information?

So the more I think about it, and the more I look at it from an objective, more experienced point of view, the more I realize what a mistake I made. I don't just want to go back and get a degree in engineering, I NEED to go back and get that degree. THAT'S a job I can get behind, that I will enjoy, that I will be able to go to school for and LEARN.

Boohoo poor me. whatever. gnight folks.

I hate myself right now

2011-02-12T10:41:00.000-08:00

I think it's for the best though. Shouldn't that make me feel less like scum?

There's definitely some wonderful people in my life

2011-02-05T14:01:00.000-08:00

Much as I'm loathe to admit it, I do need good folk around me. I've realized that I'm just not strong enough on my own. I give way to despair, turn inward, and sink farther and farther into depression without people to make me smile. I've always been a bit of a loner, though... so I thought this bore further discussion.

When I say I need good folk in my life... I do mean it. That's not, however, to say that I need them all the time, 24/7 on call. Heck, I don't even think I need them most of the time. I do need them though.

I can go about a week on my own. Existing. Doing what needs to be done. Not sure why. Seems just to be how it falls.

The problem, I think, stems from me trying to be too... self supporting. Yeah, I'm tough. I know how to take punches, I'm no stranger to hurt in all its forms... but after a while it becomes self perpetuating. I try to keep my problems from the people who care. I try to lock it up, build that barrier, to protect everyone else from my problems... and to protect myself, I'll admit. It's a scary thing opening up to someone... even when you KNOW they won't judge, KNOW they just want to help... there's always that nagging self doubt. You believe that they believe that they won't judge... and that nothing can change your relationship... but the problem is... they don't KNOW. No one can. It's much like Schrodinger's Cat (google it)... with a slight twist.

Nothing is certain. Everything is open to interpretation.

Anyway... back on topic. In closing off the good folk that care about me... I inadvertently create a self perpetuating system. It builds up, making other things that aren't as big a deal become a big deal. We've all experienced this to one extent or another... something trivial takes a day from bad to horrible in .07 seconds.

So I think I've made my point. I am strong. I am invincible with my friends.

That, or I'm insane. Probably the latter...

2011-02-04T00:50:00.001-08:00

Another winter come to pass... Another year cheating death. Joy, heartache, pain, love, disappointment and tears... Foolishness. Adoration. Despair...

Hope.

I never understood the idea of celebrating birthdays. Why cheer on the inevitable creeping of death? Then, one day, I realized... We celebrate life, love, the journey, not the conclusion. We toast fellowship. We share joy at life, lived.

I never ask for gifts. The most valuable item we posses is time. Even if it is a brief message, hastily scrawled... The thought is there.

So I hope you have a beautiful day, dear reader. I think of you fondly.

2011-01-21T00:27:00.001-08:00

I'm going to try to get a job I need tomorrow. In doing so, I'll be giving up a job I almost enjoy. I just wish my mother could do the same =/. Wish me strength

It's okay though.

2011-01-10T22:15:00.000-08:00

I've decided. It's better to feel and be hurt than to feel nothing.

Go me.

Today promises to be... Horribly... familiar.

2011-01-05T14:04:00.000-08:00

Whee! Wednesday! Workworkwork. Oh, and lame group members only just now checking in, even though we all know how much work we have to do in just eight weeks. Awesome.

Oh well... At least I've got some kind of income... maybe I'll splurge and get my milkshake for the week. I STILL haven't gotten one... been wanting one since last week. Stupid Jack in the Box.

I don't mean that. I love you JBX.

THE EVIL LEAGUE OF EVIL IS WATCHING SO BEWARE!

What is family?

2011-01-05T01:09:00.000-08:00

I don't have a definition for you, but I know what a family isn't. A family doesn't treat you like an unwelcome house guest. A family doesn't exclude you from everything. A family doesn't talk about you behind your back, doesn't demean you, doesn't make you feel inadequate. No... I'm wrong. A family DOES do these things... they just SHOULDN'T.

What I should talk about is Family... that illusive ideal that is so hard to find, yet so desirable...

My mother is my Family. She's so wonderful to me and my brother... everything she's done has been for us. Sure, when she can, she thinks about herself, but we always come first.. and that's scary, being loved that much. I remember a time when I hated my mother. She was always the mean one, the enforcer. Now, though, I can look back and see that I didn't hate my mother... I hated the demon she fights even today. See, she's bipolar, much like me... yet not like me at all. I'm depressant/hyper depressant. I forget the term for her, but really I had three moms; Angry mom, Depressed mom, and Mom. I hated angry mom. I loved Mom. And I got along with depressed mom. It's not really my place to talk about this anymore, but let's just say Angry Mom is gone (hopefully for good)... and now I really do see what she's been through.

Now I have a new Family... friends who have grown so dear to me, so loving, that they ceased to be friends and have become my Family. My Family has kept me alive, sometimes literally.

I had my first real Christmas with a split home this year... yeah, last year we had dad time and mom time, but this year we really had conflicting obligations. I don't really want to use the term obligations... but it works, so whatever. Long story short, it was a weird holiday, and I never felt better leaving a house on a day when Family should be easy to find :(

First of all...

2011-01-05T00:30:00.000-08:00

Wow. I fail at this. Almost three months without a post. Go me. I haven't even been writing in my analog journal. So yeah. That sucks. I'm really not the blogging type, I don't think. Sure, I love to talk and conversate and write, but keeping a public journal just seems... weird to me. Some of the things I write here are dark, some are fun, some are deep... but all of them are really me letting down my walls for the entire internet to see. That's scary, especially for someone like me.

So then I started thinking (Oh no! Again with the thinking!). Why... not? Why not bare my soul to everyone I meet? They only have the power over me that I give them. So, no more will I censor myself. No more will I apologize, or hide what I feel to be Right, or Just, or HOW I feel. Because at the end of the day, this is a selfish thing I'm doing. It's for me, not you. Sure, dear reader, I value your opinion. I want to hear your point of view. But who are you to judge me for me? Who are you to make me feel insecure, or unwanted? Yes, I want the conflicting points of view. Yes, I want the negative opinions. But the fear... that's what I'm talking about. The fear of sharing something that you (yes you, dear reader) finds offensive, or wrong, or unacceptable, and of losing a friendship (or potential friendship).

So know this... I'll never close the door. Only you can do that. This is me, unadulterated, unfiltered, pure. Honesty, no exceptions, even in the face of oblivion. Ask what you will, and I'll answer, even if I know you won't like it. Say what you will, and I'll consider it. But don't try to fix me. I'm not broken. Worse for the wear, maybe, but not broken.

Con. 1 retreat

2010-10-29T12:53:00.000-07:00

Last weekend was St. Phillip's Confirmation 1's first retreat, and the first retreat I had been on in a while.

While I was gone, I learned many things about both myself and others I care a lot about. I'm not trying to say "WOO GOD MADE ME BETTER IN ONE WEEKEND". If you knew my particular views on 'God', you'd laugh yourself silly at the folk who think that. So let's talk about that for a moment.

For the last three years I've been varying degrees of atheist. If I wasn't straight up "There is no God, no higher divine being, nothing", then I was "If there is, He/She/It has way better things to do than get involved in our little blips on the tapestry that is time." Relatively speaking, every individual is insignificant. Why, then, would the creator of the multi-verse take time on we grains of sand upon a grain of sand?

Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he is not omnipotent. Is he able, but not willing? Then he is malevolent. Is he both able and willing? Then whence cometh evil? Is he neither able nor willing? Then why call him God? -Epicurus

This is the stand I took when it came to faith and religion. Yes, religion teaches us proper morals; do not kill, do not steal. These are tenants that every man and woman of every creed can accept as good and right.

Well, several weeks ago, over the course of several hours, my closest friend and I had an... existential discussion about the intangible. During this discussion, a cop came over and questioned us... it was awesome.

Long story short, I'm still not happy with the 'Fluffy God', but I'm definitely not an atheist or a... whatever.

So we go on retreat, and a man who I respect more than anyone else on the planet, a man who speaks truth no matter what people think, a man who told me "Shit happens. Pick yourself up when no one else will. You woke up this morning. By God that's better than some folk can say, so it must be a damn fine day." and more importantly made me believe it. I trust this man implicitly. Why? Because he's so passionate about truth. He knows he's fallible.

This is a man I think of as a great creature of myth. He is wise beyond reason, powerful simply in presence... Easily angered but never unjustly. He doesn't give out compliments lightly. In fact, I don't think I've ever heard him give anyone a direct compliment.

So his words this weekend really hit me hard. Hard enough to leave me, quite literally, shaken. He said to me, near as I can recount, "Matthew... if I had to describe you, I'd say you were like a... like a tree. You don't say much, ever. You're a creature of nigh infinite patience... For Christ's sake, you're still listening to me. You're wise far beyond your years. You've got deep, strong roots, ... and you'll always be there. You're the kind of person that, if I ever needed anything, a shoulder to cry on or someone to watch my back... well, I'd want you on my side."

I don't take praise well... I get little enough of it, and I just don't know how to respond to it. I looked at him, saw the sincerity in his eyes... and my brain did a neat little skidding stop. It just quit. To have someone who wouldn't hesitate to tell you you're an imbecile and explain in no uncertain terms just where he thought you could stick your bullshit tell you that he not only trusts you but respects you... There aren't words for it.

I went through most of the rest of the day in a daze. Shortly before dinner, I started shaking. Then, later in the night, I cried. I didn't just cry... this was the first time I had cried in years. Certainly there have been tears... but nothing like this. I've been crushing my emotions behind walls, building dams and aqueducts to keep them in check, hidden. With a few sincere words, he broke the dam. It feels good to be free, if not a little terrifying. In less than a week I've been hurt again... but without pain, what worth does love have?

So thank you Papa Bear. You'll probably never read this... but thank you. I know now who I want to be, and have a pretty good guess about who I am. I've always had an inkling, but never in such certain terms.

I am a tree.

Who am I?

2010-09-28T22:51:00.000-07:00

I still struggle with this question. Granted, the first thing that comes to mind is my old standby: I am me. I am the actions that I have taken thus far. I may not be a great man, or even good, but I'm okay. I am intelligent by most scales. I am a six foot something, twenty one winters old. I am a male human who is proficient with computerized technology and has an impressive if not stellar skill list.

Yet while these may define the physical manifestation of me, and may answer the question of WHAT I am... they are not me. So who am I? My mind is scattered, I am aware of this. My heart is shattered, I am aware of this. I am a hopeless romantic, a fool, a protector, a comedian, and a thinker. Yet... It's never good enough.

What I want to be has changed drastically over the years. First, I wanted to be the comedian, the jester. Seeing the smiles on faces at a well timed joke, pun, or funny story made me happy, joyful even.

Then I wanted to be the philosopher. The thinker. I found the taste left in my mouth was bitter, and soon gave that up.

Now I want to be the physicist... defining the world in quantifiable measures, theorizing about the nature of the universe.

Once again, these don't define who I am, just what I do.

Ah well. Existentialism doesn't suit me. I am who I am. I think therefore I am, I feel therefore I am alive. I hurt, therefore I love.

On a side note: I want to shout something from a rooftop, yet I find the rooftops decidedly uninviting. I'm tired of schoolyard antics and rumors. That being said, my plan worked. I found the two likely sources. Suffice to say, I am disappointed yet unsurprised.

It's a brand new me

2010-09-26T23:36:00.001-07:00

I've decided on my Halloween costume. Dr. Horrible. That is all.