The "Un"Luckiest man in the world.

I just realized that in my lifetime I have survived a lot. I consider myself lucky considering all I've been through. Now I haven't had cancer or anything like that but I've had a comical list of injuries, deformities, infections and accidents. Lets count them off. When I was two I got scarlet fever and also lost a testicle due to UTI. In 6th grade I got mono and was out of school for two months. Also around that time I busted my head open for the first of 5 times. The summer before my senior year I cut off a 1/4 inch of my left middle finger. That summer I would also be in the first of 5 car accidents. In college I got arrested and kicked out of college for marijuana. In the military I ended up in rehab for alcohol. I've also gotten MRSA, a deadly infection that kills more people annually in the U.S. than HIV, and an eye infection that scarred my cornea. I've had sex with a women that had a herpes outbreak while we were having sex, without a condom I might add. I somehow didn't contract herpes. Most recently while I was stationed in Liberia I caught malaria. Besides all this I've literally shit my pants 4 or 5 times as an adult, most famously in the deans office while I was being kicked out of Liberty University. I've been in two car accidents in 3 days both of which ended up with the vehicles being totaled but no one being hurt. I can't tell if God is punking me or watching over me while I step out blind over the edge. Somehow I think its latter not the former. I am thankful that these misadventures have made me a better person, more interesting, a great storyteller, and one of the funniest people I know.....If bad shit has happened to you please right about it. Your fail is comedy gold for the rest of us.

Losing Hope is where all my dreams lay

Fuck dreams. Let them go. This isn't a rant because I didn't make it. This is the truth dreams don't matter. Embrace who you are in the moment in the here and now and not who you one day won't be. You won't make it to the NBA, your not going to be a writer, or a poet, or anything "special" Fuck it I hate to be the one to break it to you but your really not even that different. I know it stings a little bit dont it. Well its the truth and you know what its ok. Your normal and your alive isn't that enough. Why do we put this insane pressure on ourselves to have this crazy existence when certain things just aren't possible. Don't be disappointed in the things that will never happen. Embrace being a "loser" a "dropout" a "failure" its so freeing. Don't have expectations just do.

why can't I just say...

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.


This is so easy to type... over and over and over... and I can't say it to you once... even though its's what I'm dying to do.

I love your smile
I love your hair
I love your blue eyes
I love your delicious lips
I love the way you drive
I love your snore
I love falling asleep in your arms
I love your laugh
I love your arms
I love your legs
I love the way you make me feel all right
I love the way you smell
I love your voice
I LOVE YOU.
I love that we never run out of things to say
I love how you say my name
I love how you rub my head when you're concerned
I love late night coffee cruises
I love getting stoned with you
I love your angry face
I love your ridiculous jokes
I love your crazy impressions
I LOVE YOU...

"waiting for my real life to begin"

This feeling of constant unrest... uncertainty about life and all It's little surprises and letdown... is really wearing me thin. And I sit and wait for something to change... for something to happen instead of making a change or make something happen. But I've grown so apathetic towards my life that I don't think I could make a change to it, even if I wanted to. Twice in the past 3 days I have discussed the same thing with 2 different friends, and not to my surprise at all, both conversations were identical. I asked an old friend "is this where you thought you'd be ten years ago?" And just last night another friend asked me the same thing. The answer was unanimously "no" none of us would have ever believed this is where we would be if you asked us 10 years ago.

There are too many options in life. How can we be expected to choose a career and commit ourselves to years of schooling only to obtain a degree and either hate the profession all together or not even be able to land a job in out area of expertise??? It seems asinine!! I can't justify spending the time, effort, and money on something that's likely to disappoint. I guess that's a piss poor Outlook on it all... but hey it's fuckin realistic.

So for now... I'll continue to smoke my cigarettes, listen to music that takes me back to a carefree time in my life, and just scrape by with my lousy paying job, and take my college classes one at a time until a degree in anything falls into my lap. Thank heavens for beer, pot, cigarettes, and equally disappointed, disgruntled, confused, and apathetic friends.

someone's knocking at the door

As I lie awake in bed... at 2am... on a Saturday... after not going out-my mind does a lot of wandering and stumbles upon some strange things.
So I'm here, thinking about this person who for the past 9 months of my life has become a much-needed friend and an outlet for my intellectual conversations that none of my other friends have the capacity to handle. In the meantime-I went and fell in love with him. But I can't seem to let my guard down. I'm so uptight and closed off when I'm with him that I'm quite positive he thinks I have zero interest in him (other than in a physical way-like making out in the car as if we were in high school-which is even more fun with highschool so far behind-something about being an adult and acting like a teen makes up for the adult shit we have to deal with daily) but anyway-I'm so guarded with him that I feel almost like he doesn't even know me. And the most insane part of this is... I JUST realized tonight, now, while lying in bed that the reason this 'friendship' is still just a friendship is because of me. For the past several months I've been thinking to myself "what's wrong with this dude? I'm obviously showing interest and he's just pussy-footing around the matter" WELP it's because I'm so intent on keeping my emotions on lock-down for fear of letting anyone get close to me again that he must think I've stashed him in the friend zone.

OK-so now that I've discovered this wonderful hidden fact that I have an extreme fear of emotional intimacy-I just need to figure out how to unburden myself of this armor and let him in a little... without appearing desparate...or crazy...or psycho. Gonna be more work than I thought-especially since this barrier runs thick.

Up In the Air

Don't know where to start this one. Which is funny because it really doesn't have a beginning or an end. Its always in the middle. I'm always smack dab in the middle of crisis and conflict but, never resolution. Just questions with no answers. I must hate stability. Even as I'm writing this, this is not the direction I wanted to go in when I sat down and put my hands to the keys. But away we go. Just finished watching "Up in the Air" and as most movies I tend to enjoy I am both contemplative and depressed. I think those two things are mutually exclusive. Enlightenment comes to those who stop looking for it. I spend so much time in the rear view mirror deciphering the road I just traveled that I forget where I am and whats ahead of me. Back to the point that I gleaned from "Up in the Air". What if kids don't save me? We(at least I hope its we and not just me)are looking for salvation from outside sources. Whether it be a job, institution, person, or geographical location. We are always waiting for something else to rescue us. I've tried geographical location and institution and they haven't worked, at least not in the long term. I may have felt different but given enough time I'm still me. The circumstances might change but my internal dialogue remains the same.(Side note I'm beginning to think I may not even be suitable for the workforce I have absolutely no drive, don't enjoy my job, and don't understand those that do) So basically I have this theory that I will wait for my kids to save me(considering I find a woman and settle down)This is the same thinking that I used when joining the Air Force. The Air force would change me and rescue me from myself(my internal dialogue tells me that left to my own devices I will self destruct)but it didn't so my last option for outside salvation is my own progeny. That's my last firewall- a reason to wake up in the morning, a reason to try harder, a purpose even if temporary and invented is better than no purpose at all, at least thats what I tell myself. However what happens when that fades away or what if it has no effect on me at all. This is what worries me. At 27 I know who I am and that's the scary part because without some outside source I'm fucked. I know I dont have "IT" in me. Whatever "IT" is that makes people be successful, pushes them to push themselves, and makes them to function at a high level in society, I simply dont have. I dont know if I ever had it or I simply lost it but I am aware of it and truthfully it sucks. Hope used to get me by but I no longer have hope that it will ever be any different.

Reggie Watts

Keep it weird in introspect
Forget what you remember
Why is it always short May's and wicked long Decembers
So make it last while you can
Roll the credits while it fades to black
Hold the hand that holds you back
Move on and press rewind
Be bold but dont forget your lines
The truth is hidden in our eyes
So act it out for me
In your well rehearsed spontaniety
But dont expect me to recognize the (F)ACT.

Things I've learned

Don't Read if Easily Offended

I had your pants around your ankles before we were even half way up the stairs to your apartment. You held and me kissed my neck and my shoulders as you stumbled backwards up the stairs. We left my shirt on the railing and you opened the door. We fell onto the kitchen floor. By this time, we both had our pants off. You lifted me onto the counter. You stuck on finger inside me, then two, kissing me the whole time. I wrapped my legs around you and without hesitation you effortlessly picked me up and brought me into the bedroom. It was decorated by a female and you looked at me and said "I'm sorry if it bothers you". You threw me on the bed violently, but I liked it and giggled. You jumped on top of me and I used the adrenaline force to roll you over so I could be on top of you. We had sex that night until we heard the birds chirping. It was probably the best sex of my life. I know you had a girlfriend. I know you know I had a boyfriend. What you didn't know was that this was planned. I know your girlfriend. Or should I say, I know of your girlfriend. She slept with my boyfriend a few months ago. He told me. Through people, I found out who you were and set up an "accidental meeting". You were my prey all night. I will never tell you that. But I hope one day if you find out..... you will feel calm because of our one night of secret revenge. Xo yours truly.

Willow

Willow was girl with less then perfect vision. She saw every human for only the inherent good in them, even if there was very little. She was so confused and fell in love with moments and mistook it for falling in love with the people involved in that moment. People who know Willow would say she's smart...but Willow is a little silly.

On this particular day, Willow brought her camera. She brought it all the way to the top of the mountain. It was a beautiful day. She felt like she was on top of the world. Willow took pictures of everything. The branches, the ground, him, his shoes. She wanted to stay in this moment forever.

Willow met him in New York on a beautiful day. There were miles and states between them. Willow took an Amtrak train to Philadelphia to see him. It was a perfect weekend. The unknown surrounded her and he took the wheel and showed her everything. When Willow left, they held each other for several minutes in the train station. She could have left everything behind and stayed forever. She wanted to stay in the moment forever.


Willow went on vacation. Together he and Willow drove 13 hours down the coast. Beautiful water, beautiful sands. It was a cold day so they sat on the beach in their jackets. She took a lot of pictures. They wrestled in the sand and played frisbee. He drew their names in the sand. She wanted to stay in this moment forever.

It was Willow's birthday and they took a train into New York for the day. He's showed her New York from a thousand feet in the sky. He was deathly afraid of heights, but did it anyways, just for her. She thought for sure this was it. The was the moment. She wanted to stay in this moment forever.

Ms. I

I miss being in recovery and being the center of attention.
I miss hating you because at least I knew how I felt.
I miss thinking I knew who I was and what the fuck was going on.
I miss being creative and the feeling of accomplishment.
I miss missing you.
I miss looking forward to our conversations.
I miss fucking.
I miss eating fast food
I miss feeling connected to more than one person at a time.
I miss reading this blog and finding more than my own words here.
I miss

“People don’t always get answers, and real life doesn’t always have meaning”

Ok for one second snap yourself out of the pop-culture bubble you live in. Stop your daily intake of gossip, rumors, top ten lists, blogs, reviews and interviews. Take a deep breath of everyday life. Fuck that burns, it burns with the stench of unfulfilled dreams, to do lists, unfilled internet surveys, dirty laundry, half eaten sandwiches, simmering lust, and burning desperation. Let me back inside the bubble before I expire. Every time I try to embrace my awkward humanity I find it too much to bear. Its too real for me to touch. I'm afraid. I'm scared that as much as I want it I wouldn't be able to coincide with it. Let me sit passenger side and watch life pass me by from the side view mirror. Its much more relaxing this way. Its so much easier to pass judgment and advice when its too late to do anything with it and I'm already on my way out of town. I like my movies to be realistic and my life to be idealistic. Let film portray the gritty boring everyday truths and let life be grand and moving. I think I got it backwards. I'm living in Pleasantville while on Tv I'm watching a documentary on the morning routine of the average American adult male, fascinating. Will I ever be ok with being normal, with being just like my parents, just like my neighbors, just like you. When will I relish my role as the consumer and realize I am not the creator. I am just a dumb American. Will these feelings that I am bigger than my environment ever go away. Are they just illusions of grandiosity to protect me from the harsh reality of my own existence or do they hold truth. At this point I could give a fuck less I think I would be fine with either one. Just someone pick one for me tell me what to do and I'll move one. There are no answers only questions. Life isn't a book. I cant wrap it up with a clever ending that ties all the loose ends together and makes me seem like a literary genius. No it doesn't work that way. Life is a joke with no punchline, a story with no revelatory moral, a painting thats just colors on canvas. Life is not Art. I'm sorry I ever thought it was.

Only in Africa

Only in Africa can you hear the word "rapeable"
and feel your lips not pull back to form a gasp
in fact its a laugh
at the absurdity of the situation you've found yourself in
Words, Ideas, and Concepts are fleshed out in the dark hues
of Broken, Beautiful, Proud, Beaten, Filthy Humanity
and I'm left asking
Where Is My Humanity?
it is overridden by the reality of my selfish prejudice
yet I didn't ask to placed on this step
I didn't ask to wear this mantle
I was born as the rich savior of the Third World masses
Mass around me say my name. I'll never feel more important,
more loved, more respected, more used than I do right now
Fuck protocol, heres a dollar for you
Use it wisely, I never seem to
Faced with the same situation I'd be the same
begging beggar you are
Manufacturing sob stories, like a top tier Hollywood screen writer,
You aim right in between the chinks
in my White American Capitalistic Kevlar
this Dollar burns in my pocket with the weight of a winning Powerball ticket
I've never felt so cheaply empowered
You value it and myself in ways I will never understand
and yet as much as I want to give this to you
out of the goodness of my heart.
I end up giving it to you to shut you the fuck up
like Third World Blackmail I pay you off to be quiet
and now you went from sob story to rob story
Plus your dirty in ways I can never imagine
I try to act like it doesn't bother me
But my own ignorance is more caked on than the mud on your feet
And I'm left to think ......