My Ironic Fate

PAGODA 1976-2007

2007-12-10T22:20:00.000-05:00

December 10, 2007 - Pagoda was struck by lightening last night where he was taken to St. Joseph's Hospital and pronounced dead on arrival. Pagoda was single with no children and leaves behind a loving family and many good friends. He spent nearly seven years marketing magazines in New York City all the while dreaming about a more purposeful and substantive existence. But in the end, he was simply a dreamer, afraid he had but one success within him and indecisive of the direction to head. A self proclaimed Pessimistic Optimist, Pagoda saw beauty in blight questioning his fortune and love as undeserving and unfair. He died with a smile and a tear. Rest in Peace Pagoda.

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This will be my last blog post. It has been nearly one year to the day that I began blogging. Looking back over the year it has seen some ups and some downs, deceptions in emotion, and friendships through comments. I appreciate everyone who visited this blog to share in my insanity. I felt a very strong bond with several of the people who have visited and commented on this blog and the belief that you understood my posts and related to them meant a lot. I learned a lot from each of you and shared in your pain, sadness, joy and experiences. I wish all of you happiness ahead and will continue following your blogs. In my departure I wish to offer only this - we often share our sadness and tribulations in these electronic journals, don't let that cloud the blue sky above. Love, Pagoda.

BEING PAGODA

2007-11-05T22:32:00.000-05:00

She winked at me. That moment...that second in space, warmed the blood rushing through my veins. I was happy. I felt attractive. I felt desired.

I had never seen her before today. I stood above a crack in the sidewalk waiting for the light to change. I was focused, running my life through my mind like a projector on the wall. I was blindly moving forward, being herded by my fellow pedestrians into a route of no concern.

She dodged a woman with a large brimmed hat making her way hastily through the marching men. She swerved into my path, obstructing my course. I froze. She smiled. She winked as she brushed aside me on her way to a fortunate destination. I marched forward with my head titled towards the clouds.

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This particular prose didn't really happen. I mean, it probably did but I didn't have a specific experience in mind while writing this. The point of this is very relevant to what I deem an oddity of being me. For a guy who pursues his passions with an extreme determination, I am typically quite content with a smile from a woman. It's usually enough. A simple interest, even for the briefest of moments, lasts weeks within my skull. Am I afraid? Am I pathetically insecure? Why so satisfied from an expression quite mysterious? Why is that enough?

THE REAL LOVE HISTORY CLUB

2007-11-03T11:36:00.000-05:00

Is love ever real? Is love always real?

After having consumed a few too many drinks last night, I called a friend who had likewise just arrived home from the bar. At one point the conversation turned to the confusion of love. I spoke a few posts back about a guy who had attempted suicide because his wife left him to pursue another man she had been having an affair with for several years. The suicidee decided life wasn't worth living without her love, that he would never feel so strongly for another. Three months later, after a failed attempt to end his life, he has fallen madly (maybe too correct a term) and deeply in love with a woman he dated ten years ago.

I think we've probably all been in a failed relationship at some point and seriously contemplated the odds of ever finding a connection with someone as "deep" and "real" as the prior union. Only weeks, months or years later we've met someone who elicits feelings as strong, if not stronger, than what we had previously experienced. But here is where is gets a bit confusing; when we hear from the first "love" our heart STILL skips a beat. The emotions we once poured forth for the individual stirs once again. And it always will, never fading away...maybe just fading slightly due to a dusting of cobwebs. Then we experience another failed relationship and move on to another person who simply MUST be "the one" and so we have just added a further member to our "real love" history club.

Are all of these "real" loves? Does "real" love exist at all? I think we would all agree there are levels of love. Which is that powerful "real" love?

I have no doubt that the guy who attempted suicide felt as deep a love as he could for his cheating spouse. And I don't doubt that at an earlier point in his life, prior to meeting his wife, he felt just as deeply for this woman he is currently sharing a reunion with. What I do question is this - when he was in the prime love state within his marriage, was he still thinking of the previous woman as his "real" love? No, he was in a marriage with his "real" love. So then that ended. And now he's transferred that "real" love back to a place where it originally resided. And if it doesn't work out for the two this time around, he'll either attempt to kill himself for a falsely(?)-unique desire now crippled, or transfer the "real" love to the next giddy receiver.

If the emotions are so strong for someone that you would rather die than live without them by your side...and then you replicate those thunderous emotions for someone else, it MUST be love - for what other word do we have? But is it the kind of love we all seek? Is it that love where you question anyone could possibly understand? Is it special? Was it ever?

JUST DO IT! LIKE NIKE...

2007-11-01T21:20:00.000-05:00

Work is getting less and less thrilling each day. It's a job, I'm thankful to have it, but I feel unfulfilled. When you break down exactly what I do, it seems so unimportant, so trivial. I keep trying to tell myself that life is an enormous cycle with invisible connections between every element and that my job touches people in a positive way even if it isn't blatant. But it's a stretch...and even if true in part, it isn't enough to satisfy me.

Maybe it's because I have people close to me dealing with diseases like cancer in their lives right now that it's reinforcing the idea of just how short life is. And what is it about? I need to experience more, I need to do something positive. I need to work harder towards getting to a place where I can be proud of what I'm doing for a longer period of time each day. These eight hours of employment are really cutting into my idealist desires!

STATEMENT OF PURPOSE

2007-10-30T20:26:00.000-05:00

I received an e-mail this afternoon from a friend of mine who requested that I edit an essay she wrote to help her get into graduate school. She entitled the project, "Statement of Purpose." Basically she listed the impactful experiences that have built who she is, what she hopes to accomplish, and how graduate school is a necessity for her to achieve her goal of bettering herself as an educator.

As I read through the essay it occurred to me that everyone should have to write a Statement of Purpose for their life. To really understand why we are pointed in the direction we are heading, what we truly hope to find at the end of the path, and what we need to get there. I'm going to give it a shot. It will probably take me awhile, but, if I'm comfortable doing so, I may post it here after it has been completed. And if anyone reading this feels compelled to do so, please send me yours at postmaster@myironicfate.com and I'll post it here.

COSTLY QUESTIONS

2007-10-29T20:52:00.000-05:00

I'm currently reading the book, "How to Change the World - Social Entrepreneurs and the Power of New Ideas." It's a fantastic book featuring amazing people dedicating their lives to extreme causes. I admire these individuals for everything they pursue and everything they are. A social entrepreneur is someone who finds a way to achieve economic gains as a means towards bringing people together to solve social issues.

The common trait of the social entrepreneurs is their selflessness. They aren't finding ways to prosper while solving social problems, they find economic platforms as a solution to "make" other people care about the social issues. The individuals leading these efforts seldom make any money themselves. I admire it. I want to be like that. But as I'm reading this book nagging questions keeps popping into the back of my mind...how do these people make money? Without a 401k how will they retire?

I wish I didn't think like that. I wish I could give up those pragmatic thoughts and just follow a passion of compassion. But I find it very difficult.

UNDERWEAR FROM THE DOLLAR STORE

2007-10-27T10:45:00.000-05:00

I had drinks with a co-worker last night who is interested in joining the fashion industry. I can't dress. I have absolutely no taste when it comes to clothing, and maybe that's why I've always ridiculed fashion as an arrogant, pretentious club. I never understood celebrating someone for what they wore when what it was covering up was really important.

However, the girl I went out with last night may have convinced me otherwise. She spoke of the importance of fashion in making people feel good and increasing moral. She spoke of how fashion is a badge that can unite people and make them feel less alone. She was passionate about it, and I bought it. It's hard not to believe someone when they are truly passionate in their delivery.

Her pep talk didn't educate me on how to dress properly, I'll still match colors wrong and buy from Target, but I can see a different perspective on an industry I thought contributed little to society. I'm still not a pro-fashion guy, but if more people working in the industry had the same perspective and passion for the positive that my co-worker has, then I could change my opinion quite quickly.

YOU CAN DO AS I DO AS LONG AS WHAT I DO IS SLEEP

2007-10-25T20:47:00.000-05:00

I wanted to write a post tonight about a close friend of mine who is currently struggling with the illness of her father. I wanted to share my history with this person as she is probably as close to a confidant as I've ever had. It takes a lot to get that close to me and boy, have we ever been through a lot. She certainly paid her dues.

The reason I'm writing in past tense is because I can't write what I had initially intended. I found that I don't have the words to express my pride, respect and love for this friend. I have two people in my life (this friend being one of them) where, if I was to write honestly about them it would come across fake...when in actuality it would be nothing but sincere.

So I'm not going to attempt it. The words don't do it justice. I just hope this person knows how highly I think of them, and that I can be there for her as she deals with her father's medical problems, and as she encounters new struggles along the path of her life. It's the least I can do for the simple privilege of watching her become the person she has become. Even though we didn't meet until we were in our late teens - we grew up together.

You know the saying, "you can judge a person by the company he keeps"? Well, I could never live up to that with the company of someone like her. It pains me to see her upset, but at the same time I feel confident she will survive and use this experience in as positive a way as can be. Because that's who she is. And that's just one of the remarkable things about her - she may, like all of us, let something beat her down a bit, but she will never let anything finish her off.

My faith in the possible, or impossible, is stronger because of the example she sets. If only all of us could understand the power of being an example. If each of us tried to be the best example we could be, what kind of world would we have? A world I could be proud of.

I LURRRRRVE YOU

2007-10-24T20:30:00.001-05:00

I've spoken often about how my writing is typically overly emotional. When I look back at my journal, or even this blog, I am immediately stricken with "red face" and my embarrassment usually leads to eyebrow raises and internal scoffing...sometimes even name calling...I can be vicious internally!

I wish I could strike a compromise between my writing and my verbalizing. I often find myself with writers block of the mouth - difficulty in describing emotions. There have been times in the past when I wanted to blurt out, "I love you," but couldn't. I couldn't summon up the strength. Yet I could create a ten-page poem dedicated to the ignorant individual within minutes of arriving home.

I haven't grown up. I'm still that young child passing notes to the cute schoolgirl nearby. Or even the brat pulling on the pigtails of his crush. It's less endearing when you're 31.

I can't really explain where my fear of verbalizing my emotions comes from but I wish my writing would offer up some encouragement.

A PIECE OF STRING IN MY BALL OF TWINE

2007-10-23T20:20:00.000-05:00

If I look at my life through a film lens I can see the stereotypes that make up the character I am today. When I sit down to write a script I start off with the main character - what would he wear? What was his childhood like? Was he an altar boy? Did his parents divorce? etc. etc. The answer to these questions are invariably stereotypes. If my character is a disillusioned, angry youth, you dress him in grunge or punk clothing. That way, the audience, consciously or subconsciously, makes assumptions and you want those assumptions to lead them to specific place.

Looking at myself as a character is interesting - I see the stereotypes that make up who I am. For instance, up until recently I've obsessed about loneliness. I've really focused a little bit too much on forcing love to me instead of waiting patiently. When I was seven years old I told my mother I needed glasses. I didn't need glasses, at least not yet. I asked for glasses because the girl I liked in my class wore glasses. I still remember that to today. That would go into the background of the character that is me.

That's just one example. I was an altar boy, my parents are still together but endured rocky times, my father was a father too early, I'm short, I was a good athlete only because I outworked people, I fought against expectations. I could go on and on. The point is, every day is an experience that assembles the person we are becoming...or the person we are to become, depending on your point of view. If we look with an open mind I think we can see why we are the way we are...which is freaky and kind of exciting at the same time.

If I thought about this every time I had a decision to make, no matter how big or how small that decision may be, I think I'd lead a better life and be a better person.

THE STEAMROLLER

2007-10-21T20:16:00.000-05:00

I always hoped that I was a gifted enough writer to be successful with the craft one day - whether through a screenplay, book or articles. But I constantly question it.

This weekend I was thinking about the major differences between who I am now and who I was ten years ago. I've spoken about the release of my anger, the decline in tormented confusion, the comfort in my own skin etc. One thing that has also changed is my tenacity. Maybe it directly correlates to my anger. Although I still feel as though I can accomplish anything I truly desire, I don't feel the tenacity I once did. I think tenacity may be a prerequisite for success.

I'm not saying I don't have tenacity, I'm saying it isn't as strong as it once was. I wrote about it in a post a while back where I talked about missing my anger. I think that may have been wrong - I think it was the tenacity I was missing.

ALTERING A PREDICTED FUTURE

2007-10-18T20:10:00.000-05:00

I want to express my sorrow and sympathy over today's events in Pakistan. It is especially eerie to me considering the two postings yesterday. I hope my Pakistani friends, their family and friends, are safe and well. Please drop me a comment to let me know you are okay. Additionally, if you feel like it, I would appreciate hearing your thoughts.

May I never have to learn my world geography through another event like this; the four provinces are Balochistan, Sindh, North-West Frontier, Punjab.

I DON'T KNOW THE 4 PROVINCES :-(

2007-10-17T22:33:00.000-05:00

I LOVE what this blog has brought to my life and continues to do so. I stopped over at my friend A. Joe's blog to see what was happening in her life - she is an amazing writer with a skill for crafting her emotions in an empathetic way.

Anyhow, I saw that she had written a post about me - it wasn't flattering BUT it was true. This is the kind of discussion that I enjoy so much because I learn. I'll play devil's advocate at times and push back on ideas even if I don't really think that way (so know that) - for some reason that greatly intensifies my learning curve. Anyhow, check out her post, I left a comment. I would like to continue the conversation so anyone else, please feel free to post a comment on her blog or my blog with your thoughts on this topic. I'd love to hear what other people in other countries, or the U.S., think of this and any solutions/thoughts/ideas you might have. Here's the link:
http://blank-face.blogspot.com/2007/10/pak-sar-zameen-shad-baad.html

THE DAY THE WORLD DIED

2007-10-17T21:24:00.000-05:00

I was watching a show on the History Channel about ancient Mayan prophecies. One such prediction was that the world would end on December 21, 2012. IF this were somehow proven to be scientifically sound, how would your life change? What would you do differently?

I wish I had a hundred readers so I could get a wide sample of responses to this question, because my first thought is that we should live every day as if we knew the world would end on December 21, 2012. However, I suppose there is the possibility that someone would have a take that proved contrary to this assumption.

So, for my few loyal bloggies, how would your life change? What would you do different?

ROME WASN'T BUILT IN A DAY - BUT IT FELL RATHER QUICK

2007-10-16T21:40:00.000-05:00

I've been dealing with a friend of mine who just learned that her father has cancer. The doctor has given him one month to live - it's all happening so fast. Obviously she is devastated and I want nothing more than to say something that will make her feel better. Instead I've morphed into a giant ear. No mouth is necessary, I mean, what can you say?

Her father is the same age as my parents so it has created a multitude of thoughts and fears. Something my friend said referring to her father, "he will never meet my children" has really stuck with me.

I don't think we give ourselves enough credit for being the forces in life that we are. Most people can name a handful of individuals that they would want their children to meet. Those same individuals would, most likely, be named again when asked which people have had the greatest impact in shaping who you are. Or which people most closely resemble us.

And seldom do those people in our lives understand their impact on us. Somehow it slips through the cracks. We, as individuals, have a host of powers capable of increasing the quality of life for an individual and thus the world as a whole. We are using these powers every day...and we don't even know it.

If you are spiritually inclined, or even if you have just a tiny speck of confidence in a god (or many gods for all you Romans reading this), please say a prayer for my friend, her father, and her family.

SEARCHING MY SHADOW

2007-10-15T19:44:00.000-05:00

I have always been attracted to women that were wildly different from me. There was the hippie chick, the goth girl, the wealthy socialite, the immigrant, the promiscuous trailer-park babe...actually, I've dated two of those. I guess I kind of bought into the phrase "opposites attract."

What I THINK I've come to realize is that by choosing drastically different mates I was, in fact, searching for myself. And it turns out I'm a mix of each of them. Either I had all these elements within me grasping at the matching puzzle piece...or, through my interaction with each of them, I gathered the elements to create the puzzle. I think it's a little of both.

Now, for the first time in my life, I'm looking for someone...like me. Because now I have a better understanding of what that means. Hopefully I don't end up being insanely unique!

DECONSTRUCTNG THE RECLINER

2007-10-14T20:50:00.001-05:00

I have been searching so hard for what it is I can put my passion fully behind. I have so much passion and compassion in me that it feels ready to burst. It seems as if it's been ages that I've been hunting this elusive path unsuccessfully.

I was watching Bill Cosby promote his new book entitled, "Come on People." The book deals with the tough issues facing African American society - particularly parenting and a social support structure. Anyhow, he is so passionate about this topic that it radiates from him. You just know that each evening he lays down to sleep he feels content with his day's activities. He may not feel accomplished but certainly he's aware of the direction he treads...and it's right.

As I watched the interview I realized that I need to stop looking and start doing. I need to volunteer more, I need to really research the topics that come to mind. I'm in a situation right now where I can forge my own path. Everything seems aligned. Instead of waiting for the man with the machete I need to grab the tool myself and start hacking away.

I'M EXPECTING YOUR BABY WILL BE TALL

2007-10-13T19:35:00.000-05:00

I'm just going to blurt this out. I know it's crazy but it's something I need to deal with and, now that I recognize it, I mine as well write about it.

I've spoken previously about how I THINK I've subconsciously plotted to destroy every romantic relationship I've had. A close friend of mine, who pointed this out to me, asked why I feel unworthy of being with someone. I've thought about that a lot because, in a way, I think she's on the right track. But it isn't so much that I feel unworthy to be with them, instead I feel so strongly for them that I feel they deserve the best the world has to offer. I can't possibly give them what I feel they are entitled to. And I don't believe this is a self-deprecating thought, I understand what I have to offer people and I'm content with it. No, it's simply about loving someone so much that I don't want to be the roadblock to the happiness and perfection I think they deserve.

Of course I know the odds of someone being in a "perfect" relationship is pretty much nil, but I hold out hope that for this special person in my life it may be possible. And I ask them to search.

LUCIFER WAS CAST OUT OF HEAVEN

2007-10-12T21:23:00.000-05:00

I promise an uplifting post in the coming days - I'm really rather content right now...but I've been thinking of this particular topic recently and wanted to share it.

I don't know when this started exactly, but it's been a long time. I have, for lack of a more accurate word, "enjoyed" torturing myself. I wrote a post about this earlier when I referred to myself as an emotional cutter. It's as if at some point in my youth I offended god in the worst way. As if I committed a solitary crime involving all ten commandments.

For the rest of my days I've had this subconscious desire to torment myself as a tool to make amends with the Almighty over this vicious offense of which I'm ignorant of. In doing so, I gain some sort of peace within my affliction. For many years now I've been laying myself on the altar and piercing myself with a butter knife. I say butter knife because none of the wounds have been fatal. They hurt, but they continuously miss the artery. And oddly enough after the initial stab is thrust and the post-burning sensation dims, I'm left with a sort of relief...a deep sigh of the soul. I realize that a majority of these wounds are self inflicted, that my hand alone holds the dagger (er, I mean butter knife), but I'm afraid it has become an addiction. I think I need a patch to stick on my arm that will slowly distribute a pitiful pain into my blood stream until eventually I'm weened off the effects.

I like feeling sorry for myself. I like feeling like the underdog. I like feeling unworthy. I like being my own adversary.

It's crucial that I repair this habit to lead a healthier life so that I don't wake up one morning on the altar and take a look around at the surrounding mountains, trees, and sun only to realize that the warmth from the enormous star above feels better than the burning of a wound.

I know this, yet I find myself clenching the knife all too often. The good news is that it happens far less now than in the past. Baby steps.

LIVING FOR TODAY IN FEAR OF TOMORROW

2007-10-11T20:58:00.000-05:00

I keep telling myself that if I concentrate on being the best person I can be, I can influence the world in a positive way simply by example. The problem is that I don't know that I truly believe this, and it would be somewhat less gratifying I think.

I'm constantly trying to imagine ways I can contribute to altering society into a more positive direction - whether through a business opportunity or volunteering. But I get overwhelmed by the worlds problems and it seems almost hopeless to think any one person can make such a big difference. I know I should be pleased if I can find a way to contribute towards making ONE person's life better. I think I could find solace in that...but in all honesty I want more. I want to be a part of something that influences change in a major way. I'm greedy.

There is one thought that sits in the back of my head. I try to kill it, try to keep it buried in the dark. But it surfaces from time to time, particularly when I'm focusing on finding solutions to social problems - and in the process finding a direction and purpose in my life. The thought is - does any of it matter? If I found a way to help a million people live easier lives, and then the world ended in a ball of fire, and there was nothing waiting to embrace us after our demise...would it matter? Would any of this matter?

I think I should end this post by saying that I recognize that this is a question that is unanswerable. It has no truth of which I will ever be privy too in this life, so I shouldn't use it as an excuse to keep myself from committing to something. Having said that, I still struggle with it from time to time. I think it's some sort of defense mechanism...but I'll leave that analysis to the psychologists...

THE BAPTISM

2007-10-09T20:00:00.000-05:00

It's 9:00pm on a Tuesday evening. My roommate is at a Bruce Springsteen concert and won't be home until well after midnight. The traffic outside my window has slowed, barely a car an hour is passing by. I finished dinner and leaned back on the couch in my apartment, when it began to rain. Not a hard rain, but a constant rain. I can hear the drops playing their pitch in nature's integrated band - the leaves, the pavement, the window shutter, the air conditioning unit. I feel at peace with the tune. It puts me at ease.

I'm not sure why the rain is so comforting, but it can lull me to sleep in an instant. It's cleansing the world and tomorrow when I awake things will shine a little bit brighter.

JEKYLL AND HYDE

2007-10-08T20:18:00.000-05:00

Tonight was gym night, I need to get buff for the ladies ya know. Actually, funny side story - I was walking home from the gym when an overweight Hispanic woman wearing really trashy clothes passed by me on the sidewalk. She looked my up and down and then made the yummy sound. You know, "mmmmmmmm." I couldn't help but laugh the rest of the way home like a lunatic. That was too funny. I think she may have been a prostitute but I'm still taking it as a compliment damn it!

Back to the original point of the post - there I am feeling hamster-esque on the treadmill with my headphones blaring away. I fall into my typical daydream state and begin to imagine myself in all kinds of different situations. I see myself in different jobs, living in different places, all kinds of things. The one constant in this fantasy is how I see myself. I spoke in a previous post that I have dueling demeanor's. I can be an outgoing, friendly, conversation facilitator, or I can be a content, quiet observer. In my fantasy I'm always the outgoing, friendly facilitator.

I would wager that it's common sense that I would see myself this way in my dreams, who enjoys watching themselves as a corner lamp? But it begs the question, am I taking advantage of what I consider a kind of skill? Since as far back as I can remember I've been good at relating to people. I don't always enjoy playing the part of the outgoing, friendly facilitator BUT I think it's something I'm good at.

I wonder if I shouldn't reserve the corner lamp for home use only.

OKAY, GO HIDE AND I'LL COUNT TO TEN

2007-10-07T17:30:00.001-05:00

I remember telling a friend of mine a couple of years back that I had finally accepted who I was. The implication within that statement is that I had "found myself." And to a degree I think that is true...to a degree. There is always a lot of talk about individuals needing to find themselves, particularly when someone does something wrong or gets themselves into a difficult situation. Why is finding yourself such a difficult and allusive task?

I think it's because there is no such thing as finding yourself completely. I firmly believe that life is a constant learning experience and this includes a natural evolution of self. I don't think you "find yourself" and then that's it - you are who you are and can now live a consistent life. Every day brings new experiences that can alter our perceptions, and reveal inner secrets. So if these experiences lead to constant change, how can we ever find ourselves? I mean I suppose it's possible that we can find ourselves at a given place in time - what I'm saying is that we don't have this person inside each of us that once unlocked acts as a guide for who we will be to the very day we die.

I've found certain things out about myself, some more important than others in an attempt to build a level of comfort with who I am, but I can't say I've definitively found myself. I don't think that's possible unless I become too stubborn to continue learning.

I'M OUTRAGED BY THE ROOF OVER MY HEAD

2007-10-06T16:37:00.000-05:00

I just finished reading the book Helter Skelter. For those unfamiliar, it's the story of Charles Manson and his merry gang of murderers. I knew the basic overview of what Manson and his cult did but I had no idea just how insane the whole thing really was. It went against every rule of humanity that we've ever "learned." I had yet to be born when the trial took place.

I guess the most overwhelming part of the story isn't that someone committed murder, it's that Manson could amass a dozen (and more after his arrest) teenagers and young-adults, mostly female, to do anything he asked - including murder in the most gruesome of ways. At the age of thirty Manson had already spent a majority of his life behind bars. He was barely literate, and wasn't a terribly attractive man. How did he do it? It was Hitleresque.

I think I agree with the opinion of the author, who was the prosecuting attorney in the trial(s), that it was partly a result of social circumstance. The Vietnam War was a disaster, the Hippie era had accomplished the important goal (certainly at the time) of revolting against the previous societal norms and political power play...but eventually, and at the time of Manson's strongest influence, had spun a bit out of control, lost its focus, and, possibly, fell into a state of ambivalence - everything it previously had fought against. History has recorded the Manson guilty verdict as the official end of the 60's era.

There was a generation of people lost and wandering - searching for something, anything that felt more real than the disillusioned reality that had taken over the 60's. The ingredients were right for someone like Manson to be taken seriously. I bring this up because I feel like we aren't that far off, as a new global society, from another big revolution by a generation. I feel like the young people of today are in that ambivalent rut and it's only a matter of time and circumstance that makes them truly care...makes them begin to search. My hope is that a movement comes along that lurches society in a corrective direction...and not one that sets someone like Manson on a pedestal. My guess is that one rarely happens without the other.

When you are young and surrounded by enough of the world's comforts, it's tough to be outraged. Eventually, something happens that can override years of turning the other cheek. I can't help but imagine that we are getting closer to that inevitability each day. Does anyone agree or does this just sound like a conspiracy theory?

A BOULDER IN MY GUT

2007-10-05T22:07:00.000-05:00

Do we control our instincts? I speak often on this blog about following my instincts. I've mentioned my strong faith in my instincts is due to a solid track record - it has seldom led me astray. But as I proved just a few posts back (the Suicide post), my instincts are certainly fallible.

I was at a friend's apartment last night and she is faced with a difficult decision: Does she stay with the man she has been dating for the past six months or return to her ex-boyfriend of over five years? The ex has confessed his love passionately and deeply regrets letting her go. The current boyfriend is good to her and she can see a possible future there as well. However, she is torn.

She asked my advice. I told her that I would recommend getting away for a weekend so she can be by herself and, hopefully, by creating some distance from the people involved, see the situation more clearly. Then I asked her what her gut said. I felt that her answer to this question would probably not only indicate which way she was leaning but also which way she SHOULD be leaning. Her answer was, "I feel absolutely nothing. I feel completely bland, blah, whatever. I don't think one decision is better than the other, nor do I feel one is worse than the other."

My suspicion is that she is doing this to herself to prolong making a decision. She is prolonging her agony, which is something I think she likes to do sometimes. She is ignoring her gut - or hiding it under a sheet of ambivalence. She then said, "I think I'm the type of person that will never be happy." I agreed. Not because she can't be, but because she doesn't want to be. It's so funny how that statement pertaining to her seems so ridiculous to me but when it pertains to me it's substantial and valid.

I'm getting a bit off track here - my question is - are our instincts spontaneous visions or are they simply a sum of the truths contained in a series of related experiences? For example, one day I had a feeling, seemingly out of nowhere, that a girlfriend had cheated on me. I called her and "bluffed" that I "knew what was going on." She confessed. Had I been sprinkled with some mystical dust that morning that revealed this hidden truth? Or had a series of previous experiences with this girl led me to an intersection where doubt met truth? And by accepting it, as opposed to ignoring it, I happened to be timely with my accusation? Is there a skill involved? Is it a natural gift? Or is it subconsciously controlled? Is the skill involved actually the discipline to accept a verdict, as opposed to a divine inspiration?

In a way it reminds me of the debate between fate and coincidence. I've always had trouble chalking things up to coincidence. To me, it was like winning the lotto way too many times. Somehow fate seems more logical - which is absolutely absurd to "intellectuals" but I feel there is a case for a strong debate there. Anyhow, I'll save that for another post.

Looking back at what I've just written I can see a biased slant to this topic. It's consistent with my overall belief structure though...so I've got that going for me...(what a strange post to end with a Caddyshack reference).

YOU CAN COME OVER BUT YOU CAN'T TALK...AND TRY NOT TO BREATH TOO LOUD

2007-10-03T19:09:00.000-05:00

I'm extremely surprised at the length of time in which I've sought solitude. I'd estimate that it has been over seven months now. In that time I've preferred books to parties, movies to pubs, and the chirping of birds in the local park to the chirpings of a date. The longer it goes, the more I question this being a faze. I'm beginning to believe I very well could be evolving into this person.

Ever since I was a child I've enjoyed time alone - but I've always been skilled at socializing. When I'm in a situation where people are shy or having difficulty conversing, I can be that moderator. Likewise when I'm in a situation where conversation is flowing naturally, I typically sit back and enjoy the comfort of a nearby corner.

I bring this up because I was beginning to wonder if the skill of socializing could diminish. I was worried that by shunning people and parties I may forget how to relate to people. Last night I went out with co-workers to a pub and I felt as though I had made a good appearance. I didn't embarrass myself and I really enjoyed the conversation. I hope I don't become a complete hermit. I hope I remember that the most intriguing thing to me in this world is people. I hope, once I've figured out whatever I'm trying to figure out, that my current craving for silence is equal to that of companionship.

NONSENSICAL LOVE DISORIENTED

2007-10-01T21:14:00.000-05:00

I'll make you laugh because the sound reverberates in my soul - tickling it. I'll momentarily stare into your eyes with softness, then look away - did you see it? I'll contemplate meaning and truth with you late into the night, because I respect your ideas. I'll listen with a biased heart. I'll carry your burden with an urgency. I'll tease you like a second grade crush. I'll lay my lips against your neck and regulate my breathing so our pulses are in sync. I'll listen as you shower and pretend the water lays a protective coat. I'll try to improvise perfection.

I'll seldom speak of my family, they mean so much. When I'm frustrated or angry I'll take it out on you. I'll delve into a stranger's life tale further than I do your daily dinner report, because you mean more to me than they do. I won't admit my constant, illogical, unreasonable ache because I know you'll try to share in it. I'll place unfair expectation on you that are only exceeded by those of god on us. I'll try to improvise perfection...because I love you.

TELEPATHY

2007-09-30T17:24:00.000-05:00

I expect too much of my love. I've been told often that I need to be more open in my relationships, that the women feel held at a distance. It's tough for me to verbalize my feelings. but there is something more - I want them to "know" without me having to tell.

It's stupid right? How could someone just "know" unless I tell them? In my warped mind I desire a glance that searches my soul. I want to stare into her eyes and see her essence, and she mine. So far that hasn't happened.

I had a rocky relationship with a woman a few years ago. I felt for her deeply, and she for I...but she wasn't ready for a serious relationship so she fought against it. One evening, a few days after she broke up with me, she stopped by my apartment to explain. She said her biggest issue was that I wasn't open with her, that I seldom spoke of my family and feelings. The second issue she had was my arrogance. I can understand some random person meeting me and thinking I'm arrogant. I suppose it would depend on the topic of conversation but I can't say I would be stunned. What did stun me was that this woman I had spent so many hours conversing with would think the same. I thought she knew me on a deeper level. I thought she saw my insecurities, confusion and search for the allusive truth. She obviously didn't. A few weeks later we went out for drinks and I decided to tell her a very personal story. It was something I had never spoke of to anyone - because it makes me feel foolish, but at the same time I think it relates something about me that isn't apparent to, well...anyone. I told her the story and my emotions bubbled and bubbled until, eventually, they began to boil over. I began to cry. There were two reasons why I was upset relating the story to her: 1. It's a story that sums up everything I desire and 2. I had hoped I never had to tell the story...I hoped someone would just know.

99% DRAINED

2007-09-28T19:04:00.000-05:00

I've been sitting here for the last five minutes staring at this blank box, trying to decide what to write about. I told myself, if the opportunity arose, I would try to post in this blog daily. But I have no idea what to say right now. Nothing pressing is on my mind. Which bothers me. Especially when you turn on the news and see the events in Burma, another missing child report, and politics...well, being politics.

There is so much going on in the world, how could I have nothing to say?

99% of what is in this blog I would never actually verbalize. I've realized that 99% of people at cocktail parties don't want to talk about philosophical ideas - and I don't blame them, they want to have fun and be happy. I have fun talking about these things but I can't say it typically brings a burst of joy to my soul.

In any case, I use this blog as an outlet. With so much to talk about, why can't I find anything to say? Sometimes I think I just bury things, block them out. Sometimes I think I let the world tire me. Sometimes I'm just too tired.

IT'S ALIVE!!!!!!!!

2007-09-26T20:08:00.000-05:00

I was watching an interview on PBS this evening featuring Charles Simic, the new Poet Laureate of the United States. At one point during the interview the questioner asked, "why is poetry important?" Mr. Simic responded with the following (I'm paraphrasing), "While teaching one semester a student asked me that same question, I was a taken aback as the question is really quite profound. After a moment a young woman in the audience raised her hand, I asked if she would like to take a stab at it. She said poetry was important because it reminds us of our humanity. That it's raining out, or that the flowers are in bloom. That we love, or we hate. Maybe there is a god, maybe there isn't. But it reminds us that we're here."

I enjoy poetry but I'm far from an expert. Very seldom do I purchase a book of poetry or check one out of the local library. I don't construct poetry well but I've always been fascinated by it in the sense that, good poetry, always seems so emotionally pure. In being so, it's an act of baring one's soul. Which makes it powerful.

I tried thinking of other things that "remind us of our humanity." Films, like something from Ingmar Bergman maybe, or a good piece of literature can certainly do the trick. But the thing that has probably had the most humbling affect on me in my life, thus leading to a reminder of my humanity, was a personal trial or tribulation. For me, the most difficult periods in my life led to a greater understanding of myself, the people around me, and life in general. They were difficult times - of which a few I barely survived. But in the end, I not only had a fresh perspective on life, but a better grasp on what being human means. And that leads to a greater appreciation for life.

Whether watching a philosophical film, reading a thought-provoking book, or ingesting a poem, one of the key ingredients seems to be a recollection of a personal difficulty. A recollection of pain. But what I inevitably fail to see is that in itself the piece of work is as much a tale of redemption as it is a recollection of pain. Someone had to do the writing, which mean someone survived, which means someone learned. Why is it so easy to experience the pain, but so difficult to recognize the redemption? It has become an instinct. Or maybe it's always been an instinct.

Hotel Insomnia

I liked my little hole,
Its window facing a brick wall.
Next door there was a piano.
A few evenings a month
a crippled old man came to play
"My Blue Heaven."

Mostly, though, it was quiet.
Each room with its spider in heavy overcoat
Catching his fly with a web
Of cigarette smoke and revery.
So dark,
I could not see my face in the shaving mirror.

At 5 A.M. the sound of bare feet upstairs.
The "Gypsy" fortuneteller,
Whose storefront is on the corner,
Going to pee after a night of love.
Once, too, the sound of a child sobbing.
So near it was, I thought
For a moment, I was sobbing myself.

Charles Simic

LOSING MY EYES

2007-09-25T20:59:00.000-05:00

When I first began this blog I wrote a lot about "love." It seemed like every post dealt with a lost love or a search for love or a desire for love or a pessimism of love. I realized that I haven't written a post about love in quite some time.

I told myself I was concentrating on my writing and social entrepreneurship ideas and putting love aside for a bit. Deep down, somewhere near my pancreas, I knew I was lying. I mean, I knew I'd TRY but that my search for love was too ingrained in me to put aside easily. To me, love symbolizes an answer to the meaning of life. How could you put that aside? But I have.

What have I done with that constant ache I've held near the center of my chest for so long? Yes, the pain would subside when I met someone that elicited hope but it would roar back with a vengeance when the relationship faltered. And if I'm honest with myself, that pain was there even when I was in my relationships - I just fought to ignore it. So here I am, living life in the same wondrous state as always, but that focus that has existed for over a decade has faded. Am I giving up? Am I supposed to?

MIRROR MIRROR ON THE WALL

2007-09-24T19:11:00.000-05:00

There is a close friend of mine that recently confided in me that for the four months prior to her summer vacation she made herself vomit after every meal. She doesn't consider herself bulimic but realizes it probably isn't healthy. She is a beautiful girl but she once said to me that she saw her body in the same light as a girl strolling the sidewalk in front of us - the girl was twice her weight.

I don't know how to deal with this but I'm trying to learn as much as I can about this disease. I don't know if anything makes me more sad than when someone I love and respect sees themselves as gross.

Sometimes when I'm in a bar, and having a good time, I'll look in the mirror and think to myself, "hey, I don't look that bad tonight!" Then I'll look at the lights and the mirror itself and try to figure out where I can buy these so I can have them in my home. There are other days, and much more frequent, where I'll look in the mirror in complete disgust of my appearance. I kind of hate myself at these moments. I think my receding hairline is pathetic. I think my hairy chest is rather unappealing and my eyebrows are a few years away from taking on a life of their own. I wish my belly didn't have that bit of pudge that seems to be content to ignore my sit ups. I wish I knew how to dress better. I wish I had a bigger penis. I wish I was smarter.

But I don't do anything about it. I don't shave my chest or take the latest hair growth formula. I do exercise but that has as much to do with the internal health and keeping my energy up than anything else. Actually, that's not completely true - I really am trying to get rid of that pudge. Anyhow, my point is, I'm just stubborn enough to continue telling myself that I want people to like me because of who I am and not how I dress. In fact, I go out of my way NOT to go out of my way because of expectations or cultural norms. The question begs, why should anyone like me if I don't really like myself?

In case someone who knows me reads this and rolls their eyes, I want to point out that I have great friends and I'm not begging for people to "like me." I am begging for people to understand me though...and maybe to understand myself. Most of the time I can honestly say that I wouldn't trade lives with anyone, but at the same time I struggle with liking myself. I wish I was a better person. I'll always feel that way...I hope.

THE SUBWAY ALWAYS SEEMS TO HAVE ROOM FOR ONE MORE

2007-09-23T18:57:00.000-05:00

Last Friday after work I was standing on a street corner in Manhattan waiting for the light to permit me to cross. I looked up towards the sky and gazed at the tops of the skyscrapers all around me. It's a view that hammers insignificance upon you. It made me feel so small.

The light changed, traffic stopped, and I crossed the street with about thirty strangers. I descended the stairs to the subway, and hopped on a train just before the doors closed. There I was shoulder to shoulder with a hundred strangers - stuffed in this silver box, like sardines. I started to think about how insignificant we all are...and at the same time, how important each of us are to so many others. It's a hard thing to organize in my head. On one hand it seems to me like any positive contribution I may be fortunate enough to make in this world would really mean very little in the big picture view of things. How so very far this world seems to need to go. But, at the same time, I realize how connected we all are and how, like domino's I could topple lives by the seemingly smallest of acts...which, again, could still be somewhat insignificant when looking at the big picture. Or maybe not. Maybe on our own we are insignificant, but when collectively assembled as a member of all things living, we become a support link, and without us, we affect many...thus making us quite significant. I kind of like that thought even though it tramples a bit on my desires for increased solitude.

THIS BLOG RESIDES IN MY COLON

2007-09-19T18:21:00.001-05:00

I keep talking about how good this blog has been for me but it also creates a feeling of cowardice. First off, I don't use my real name - there is little risk of exposing these ideas and thoughts to people who know me on a visual level. And, more importantly, is the assumption that no one who meets me would ever know this side of me exists. No one would know how confused and generally emotional I am. No one would ever see this blog IN me. Outside of this online world I bury this blog deep down alongside memories that now act as tiny ghosts...almost invisible. It's only in this e-world that I allow it to be exposed...and even then, with precautions.

I suppose it's a step. But then again, would I ever want to be comfortable sharing these ideas with people on a daily basis? Is that a goal I'd want to achieve? I don't think so. I think I need to remember I'm built a certain way and that's okay. I've found a couple people in my life who understand that and "get me" (I think). I'll just continue to hope there are more out there...and that our paths will cross.

THE TIRE SWING

2007-09-17T17:50:00.000-05:00

I can't stop thinking. I torment myself with echoes of questions that have buried their answers centuries past. I occupy my being with obtuse tasks in the hopes of freezing the circulating matter inside my head. I sigh a sigh that reaches the depth of my belly with the goal of easing my jaw...my shoulders...my heart. I shut my eyes and concur irrational fantasies that, for the length of my dreamworlds breath, fool me into believing their lucidity. I ponder the relevance of being me. I ponder the relevance of being. I ponder.

For a brief second I unexpectedly catch a slight scent of freshly mowed grass, and it transports me atop the tire swing behind my childhood home. The breeze refreshes, the dandelions a brilliant yellow. The half-acre clearing appears to connect the oceans. I have nowhere to go, and no desire beyond dangling my bare feet gently over the shortened blades of grass. It's lucid.

I'm back. I'm thinking. I can't stop thinking.

THE TEARS ARE STILL MOVING

2007-09-16T14:08:00.000-05:00

Lachrimae is alive. I received a message from her this week and I can't tell you how relieved I was. I had such a disturbing feeling leading me to believe she was no longer with us.

Individuals like Lachrimae, people with such deep feelings and desires, are so important to the world. These are the catalysts for change. They foster understanding. They help people see and accept themselves. These people have a connection to the world and feel it's rotations within them. The greatest poets, authors, filmmakers, politicians and leaders of this world have been those who feel so deeply it seems a curse. They don't experience their emotions in their heart or brain...they feel them in their soul.

Inevitably pain is a bi-product of such powerful emotional relations and, by the nature of the individual, must be the toughest to control. Read the great poets and authors and it becomes apparent that pain is certainly the most consistent emotion. But it is through the caress of this hurt that the greatest achievements have been presented to humankind.

Not all people who feel intensely with their soul are going to inspire millions and lead a march to make the world a better place. But through their love, insight, sharing, and empathy they can touch someone, and that someone may touch another and that someone may touch another yet. Or maybe they just help someone live an easier life by feeling less misunderstood or different.

I firmly believe everything in the universe is connected - never underestimate the impact we can have...even in the seemingly smallest of ways.

JUST JOIN THE CIRCUS ALREADY

2007-09-13T22:01:00.000-05:00

Is this weird? I've been thinking about taking another long trip somewhere after my job ends in January and I stumbled upon an opportunity I didn't know existed. Freighter travel. Apparently large freighters, used for shipping cargo, have up to 12 passenger rooms available for rent. These ships travel all over the world making stops in several ports to unload their cargo. The thought of being in the middle of the ocean for 30 days (and not on a luxury cruise ship) really appeals to me. No frills, no casino, no television, no bar, no mandated socializing - most of the other people on the ship will be workers. Nope, this would just be me and the ocean for 30 days, eventually landing in port somewhere - maybe Australia, or China...I'm not really sure yet. And I'd fly back home. But I have to say that "old world" travel has always interested me - I love the idea of being at sea during storms and rough weather as well as sunny, calm days. A modern day Columbus or, even cooler, a pirate! I love the idea of being somewhat alone in the middle of a vast, powerful segment of nature.

When I tell people this is something I'm considering (although I haven't really looked into it too much yet), they shake their head at the idea. "What kind of vacation is that?", I've heard from naysayers. And to be honest, as I verbalize my desire to do something like this I realize it's extremely abnormal. But I have a curiosity and a desire...

I may not actually do this trip but I'm most definitely intrigued by it.

WILL WORK FOR INSIGNIFICANCE

2007-09-11T19:39:00.000-05:00

Today I was at the office late, trying to finish up a few projects so I'd have less to do tomorrow. As I walked out of the office I remembered all the days over the past two years that I spent working hours and hours of overtime. I was giving up years of my life to get ahead in the corporate world. I don't regret it, because I learned from it (boy is consulting a much better gig!). I'm really happy with my current situation - a job that has an end in sight, flexible hours and no commitment.

But the strangest thing happened as I walked to the subway tonight - I kind of craved getting back into that monotonous schedule that had me waking up at dawn and getting home at dark. Why would I crave that? The money? No. The status? No. The feeling of having achieved something during the day? No. I think I craved it because it keeps me from thinking. If I only have time to think about work, that's all I have to worry about.

i HOPE this isn't too depressing

2007-09-10T20:33:00.001-05:00

Suicide has been on my mind a lot lately - but not in the way you would think. A friend of mine called me this week to tell me that her brother has attempted suicide twice in the past month. His wife told him that she has been cheating on him for two years, was leaving him, and wanted nothing to do with their two small children. That is quite a blow.

I've written in some earlier posts about how I experience really high highs and really low lows. If something like this happened to me I'm sure I would have some extreme thoughts running through my head. My friend talked about the pain it was putting the family through and the pessimistic outlook for her brother's future. No one in the family believes he'll ever be the same. They even wonder if he'll make it through this at all. My friend spoke of the complete lack of emotion or remorse in her brother and how scary it is to see someone like that. I know this all to well.

When I was 19 years old one of my best friends slit his wrists and swallowed a container of pills while washing it down with a fifth of vodka. I found him on his couch, blue in the face and waiting patiently for death. When he showed me what he had done I completely freaked out. I punched a hole in a nearby wall and screamed at him - I asked him how he could do this when so many people loved him? If I'm honest about it, I was also a little pissed off that he beat me to it. I wasn't in a good place at that time either and had contemplated it on occasion. I never went so far as to directly make an attempt on my life but I certainly tried to circumnavigate it through self-destructive behavior. In some way I hoped that would make it easier on my family.

It seems to me that most people I know characterize themselves as either having depression, having gone through depression, or suffering from sporadic bouts of depression. I'm not a doctor but I tend to think that people today are just less prepared to deal with the downs. Don't get me wrong, I believe in depression, I'm just not sure we diagnose it correctly. Kind of like how small boys are diagnosed with ADD so quickly. Whatever happened to the thought that little boys are just made to be rambunctious? When did it become a problem? We live in a world of convenience.

Back to the point of the post - I feel such deep sorrow for individuals who get to a point in life where suicide seems the best option. It's never a quick and easy decision - these people are typically going through a period of extreme anguish. It's a loss of hope...which is the worst thing I can think of. Hope pats us on the back and tells us it's all going to be okay. It whispers words of encouragement and asks us to be patient. It reminds us that we can't predict the future and any attempt to do so is a a sad form of arrogance.

I know I'll continue to go through very low periods in my life. I know I'll feel pain that makes me want to break in two. I know my hope will diminish to a speck. I just pray that I never lose hope completely as I once did. I pray no one in the world ever loses hope. Hope to me is a sunrise...a reset button. It's a bottomless barrel of second chances. You don't have to believe things will get better but we should recognize it's possible.

I have one last story to share. This blog has been very kind to me, extremely therapeutic. I've received comments from people in different places of the earth and used it as a vehicle to stay in touch with a certain two or three close friends. One day about three months ago I received a comment from a girl calling herself "lachrimae." She said, "everything you write seems like it could have come from me"...or something like that. I visited her blog and saw someone who I could relate to. She was dark and sad. She was artistic and conflicted. I enjoyed reading her poems and viewing her photography. I felt like we were similar in some ways although I wondered if she didn't have a deeper pit of despair inside her. Lachrimae sent me an e-mail message one day and we began to strike up a friendship. I referred to her as my first "bloggy friend." We began to learn more about each other although we were both a bit guarded - I can only speak from my point of view but I wasn't sure how to react to an e-relationship (and this isn't in the romantic sense). After trading e-mails for a few months I realized that lachrimae and I may have been even more alike than I could have imagined. Although it isn't a surprising concept, I was amazed that emotions, thoughts and disposition weren't hindered by borders or long stretched of wild blue ocean - Lachrimae is from Portugal. The last e-mail I received from lachrimae was about how she had a tough task of restoring a relationship and how she was battling to find a comfortable place in the world. I congratulated her on buying a home and doing well at work. We exchanged "real" names - we began to open up a bit more.

A couple months ago I went to her blog and saw this:

http://huntingdreams.blogspot.com/2007/08/thats-all-folks.html#links

It has been her last post for quite some time. The title of the post sent shivers down my spine. I HOPE I'm wrong but my instincts tell me otherwise. I've e-mailed lachrimae several time pleading for her to tell me that she was alive. I offered words of encouragement and prayed she'd find strength. I've never heard back from her. I worry she is no longer with us. I feel she isn't.

Lachrimae means "tears" which is exactly what has seeped from my soul since I lost contact with her. The world can not possibly be a better place without her. Even though we've never met face to face I feel like our e-relationship was more powerful in a way. I'm not sure either of us would have opened up as much as we did had it been face to face. We weren't made like that. Lachrimae, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't blog more often in the hope that you'd remember you weren't alone in your feelings. I'm sorry I wasn't quicker to ask all the questions I really wanted to know from you - being that it was exclusively online I was worried you would think it was creepy. I'm just not used to it. I'm sorry I didn't send you a phone number so you could have called if you needed to talk - I knew you had many struggles. I'm sorry I didn't come through for you. I felt a kinship with you and I feel like a piece of me has left with you.

Hope. I have no concrete evidence so I hope she is alive and well and working on her problems. I hope she hasn't lost hope. I hope that if, in the unfortunate event that my instincts are correct, god understands. I've always felt that the god that has pity for the poor, the ignorant, the sick, and the weak, would most certainly have pity for the soulfully inflicted.

In closing - I've characterized "hope" in a lot of ways thus far. I'll add one more - hope to me is not only a belief that the unknown future might be brighter than the past, but it is also materialized through sunrises, reflections in a pool of water, a shadow under a tree on a sweltering day, a mountaintop view, a child's laughter, a friend's warm embrace, a good book, hot chocolate, and the smell of coffee on a brisk morning. It's everything beautiful in the world, everything we need to continue to remember. There is no single event (or many for that matter) that can possibly cancel out all the beauty that life holds. We may lose something but we never know what we may gain.

ON THE MERRY-GO-ROUND

2007-09-09T20:30:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure that this post is going to make any sense really but here goes nothing:

I was going to write about how I used to be a happy-go-lucky person but how I lost that luster for life in some way over the years. I lost that carefree attitude somewhere along the way. But as I thought a bit deeper about this observation I realized it was completely false. I was never carefree and happy-go-lucky. I've always been self conscious and reflective with a deep sense of longing. I think the only difference might be that I found some self discipline. And maybe even a little hope. That combination seemed to stabilize my life a little.

Wouldn't it be nice to be carefree? To just live life with the idea that you only have so much control so don't worry about anything else. I believe that to be true but I can't seem to keep that thought in my head at all times. I wish I could. I know people who can and I'm jealous of it. Sometimes I look at these happy-go-lucky individuals as idiots in a way. I say to myself - can't they see all the ugliness in the world? But maybe I'm the idiot. They realize there is only so much they can affect. I dwell on so many things that I can't fix or contribute positively towards.

I wish I could be that guy that watches the news, shakes his head at the chaos, and turns off the television. And with that loss of electricity to the television, my mind simultaneously powers down the negativity.

HE DOESN'T RESENT HER LOVE YET

2007-09-08T23:43:00.000-05:00

Last night I was at a going-away party for a friend who is moving back to Texas - he's sick of the noise and pace of NYC. While at this party I was talking to another friend who was describing his relationship to me. He said the following, "Unlike most people in long-term relationships I don't try to get away from her. I mean, we've been together for four years. We've lived together for two. I still truly love being with her, we have a lot of fun together. I want to be with her every moment I can."

The great part about hearing him say this is that I know for a fact that his girlfriend feels the same way. It's a moment like that which gives me hope that what I would consider a "real" love is possible. Sometimes I feel like it won't happen for me. Sometimes I feel like I may succumb to the exhaustion of searching for love, and settle. Sometimes I feel like if I don't settle it MIGHT happen for me but probably not until I'm 60 years old. But it's a moment like that conversation last night that makes me believe, even if it doesn't happen until I'm 60, and I died the day after, It'd be worth it.

WOLFGANG AMADEUS

2007-09-02T23:03:00.000-05:00

I just finished watching the most amazing film, "Amadeus." I sat firmly upright through the two hours with a goofy smirk on my face because next to a golden sunrise nothing chills my soul, in a good way, like a masterful piece of art. Whether it's a film, music, painting, photograph, piece of architecture or sculpture, I lose my mind in a complete wonderment of the article. When I am blessed with the opportunity to experience a truly perfect work of art, I feel as though I'm seeing an inspiration unworthy of crediting the human mind. This may be because I can't fathom the idea that any human mind is capable of such a creation. I have to offer it up to divinity.

The story is about Mozart, his genius, and the bitter acknowledgment of that genius by his colleagues. It's the story of humanity. There is a moment in the movie where a composer witnesses Mozart's genius first hand and becomes enraged with jealousy. He too, offers the talent up to a divine inspiration for he isn't capable of recognizing such skill as being from the mind of man.

Sometimes I'll spend hours recording a tangent in my journal. I'll wake up the next morning and read what I had written and it will seem foreign to me. As if the thoughts didn't belong to me, I was borrowing them. I've spoken to other writers who say they experience the same thing. It's almost as if I'm a secretary taking notes for someone else. Some people would say it was my subconscious at play, some people would say it was something much larger. I recognize that my journal entries are far from a divine piece of art, but it's the only relatable thing I have in my life to a true genius' piece of work. I couldn't imagine the joy associated with looking back at a work of art and seeing perfection. And further, having others see perfection in it as well. There are people on this earth with talents that I could only dream of. Understanding this, I have accepted quite contently that simply recognizing and experiencing such talent is a blessing all on its own.

I ATE A BUTTERFLY. WILL IT DIGEST?

2007-09-02T18:55:00.000-05:00

You know that feeling you get just before you place yourself in a situation outside of your comfort zone? A situation like approaching a person in a bar or jumping off a high-dive diving board. You get those butterflies in your stomach and your adrenaline is pumping. You tell yourself to calm down and then you concentrate really hard on putting any doubt aside...you numb your mind. It gives you just enough time to leap before the doubts return.

Well, I can feel the beginning of the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I feel a little nervous, like I'm getting closer to an inevitable fate. I feel strongly that come January 1, 2008 I will make a decision on the next big move in my life and that it will be a radical one - for me at least. I can't shake this feeling that I've already decided to do something outside my comfort zone. I don't know what it is exactly but I can tell I'm heading down that path. It's scary...and exciting. I'm interested in knowing exactly what I'll do but I know myself and I can tell that I'm preparing to make a somewhat drastic change in my life. I felt this way just before I moved to NYC from Michigan - a process that took less than 2 weeks from decision to execution.

So now I just keep my eyes and heart open and see what strikes me as the right opportunity. I'm waiting for that wave of energy to carry me away. I wonder where it'll take me?

ROSE TINTED GLASSES?

2007-09-01T17:41:00.000-05:00

One of the things I truly enjoy in life is an in-depth conversation on the meaning of life. Inevitably a conversation on religion ensues and people always have strong opinions on this matter.

I have several friends who either characterize themselves as atheist, or simply someone with an understanding that they will never achieve an answer on whether there is a god or not so why waste time worrying about it. I have often struggled with whether I should chase answers to questions I know will never reveal the answer. I've chosen to chase...for many reasons, of which one is my enjoyment in the contemplation.

But what I wanted to write briefly about today is an aspect of my atheist friend's attitude which I wish I could duplicate in myself more often. When I ask these friends what the point of life is, the answer I receive most frequently is, "There isn't a point. It's just about enjoying life." And these friends actually live their lives that way - they see life as more of a gift than I think most religious people do. I believe in a god. And I believe religion at its core is a great manual for people to live by. I believe religion provides hope to those most in need of it...and, equally as important, a purpose in life. But I feel like sometimes the religious look to better themselves and those around them so much that they forget the gift staring them right in the face every day. The gift of opportunity. The gift of simply being.

I'm not saying atheists don't try to better themselves or society as much as the religious but there is a distinct difference in the philosophies behind it - which I would love to write more about when I have more time. I'm simply saying that at the core of an atheist belief is an outlook more focused on seeing life as a beautiful gift to us as an individual. I think this thought is also VERY present in religion but is overrun with a variety of messages, and layer of importance on them, that we would all be better served to remember that life is an amazing opportunity that we should enjoy, or understand our fortune...even through our struggles. We are either allowed to be, or just on earth being, depending on your belief. Either way, we have a lot to enjoy and be thankful for.

LOST HIGHWAY

2007-09-01T09:43:00.000-05:00

I'm lost again. I'm at that place where I feel like I don't know what direction to head in or what path to choose. And I don't have to make a decision right now so I'm just sitting here waiting, wishing and wondering. Whatever the future has in store for me won't come without many hours of analysis and deliberation.

I am so anxious to move forward with my life but I know I need to be patient. But I can't help being antsy and feeling like every hour that goes by without a known purpose is wasted. I feel like as soon as I have a new mission in life I'll go full steam ahead and accomplish it...and I feel ready. I just haven't received the mission yet. So I feel lazy. I feel like I need to be doing SOMETHING but at the same time I know I need to get myself to a certain "place" before I can move forward.

I should be excited about the future, it's wide-open for me. I guess I'm just ready to get on with it so anxiety drowns out everything else. Patience, patience, patience - something I really need to work on.

IF STUPIDITY IS HEREDITARY I SHOULD GET MY VASECTOMY NOW

2007-08-31T19:28:00.000-05:00

I don't know if it's an act of selfishness or just plain stupidity but I recently spoke to a close friend of mine about my reservations in confronting my friend that has been cheating on his wife (see "18-year-old strippers are hard to argue with" post).

This friend I confided in is one of only three people (or so) in my life I talk to about really personal things. The problem is that I spoke to her about how I am beginning to think that the chances are much greater that a marriage contains a cheating spouse rather than not. This friend is currently very close to becoming engaged to her long-time boyfriend and has trust issues in general. So here I am, just months before an expected proposal, talking to her about how hard marriages must be and how I think it may actually be "typical" for a spouse to cheat at some point. Today this friend e-mailed me saying she can't stop thinking about how I think cheating may be typical and how afraid she is of that happening to her. If I was playing psychologist I'd say this friend has shown throughout her past a tendency to justify relationship break-ups due to her mistrust and fear of infidelity (or maybe even just a fear of being hurt). I now feel very responsible for contributing to her doubts, which are normal I think, but don't need to have the flames fanned by me. I told her not to let fear control her emotions, which I believe is true. But I know fully well that knowing that is one thing and putting it to practice is quite another.

I was either being selfish because I needed to talk to someone and she is my standby OR I was just not thinking and should have taken her current situation into account before unloading my problems...and contributing to hers.

Relationships and love are so complicated. I'm not sure they have to be but in my world, they definitely are.

WORKING KIND OF SUX

2007-08-29T13:50:00.000-05:00

I'm at work right now. I'm consulting for a company for 4 months on a part-time basis as I continue to search for an answer to the always allusive question - what do I want to do with my life? I've been thinking recently that after this gig is up I may look into working with a non-profit that will send me to some third-world country for a while. I think that is something I would like to do once in my life. Or I could scale it down and just go on some sort of missionary trip for a month or so. The "chicken" route...we'll see. I'm going to keep pushing myself to continue writing though. Even if I feel a diminishing confidence in ever reaching a level that would allow writing to be my career, it still acts as a great stress-breaker for me.

Here is a weird concern I have that has to do with writing: I worry that when I die and those closest to me find my journals they'll think less of me in some way. After all, even I think I'm borderline insane. Okay, maybe not medically speaking but seriously sometimes I question this! Part of me wishes there was a way for all my journals to spontaneously explode into deep-blue flames at the moment of my death, so no one will be able to read them. Then another part of me feels that people should know the real me...even if it's after I'm gone. Is that weird? That I don't care if it's after I'm gone? I mean, I feel like those closest to me would rather find out now, don't you think? But I'm not sure how to go about that. I mean if my disposition is part of the "real" me than so is my shyness to present it to the world, right? Or am I just justifying this?

Anyhow, I'm not getting paid to blog so I'd better go. Later.

18-YEAR-OLD STRIPPERS ARE HARD TO ARGUE WITH

2007-08-27T21:36:00.000-05:00

I received a call tonight from a close friend who confided in me that he is cheating on his wife. He's been married for ten years and for the past year he's been rendezvousing with an 18-year-old stripper and a 20-year-old waitress (he's in his early 30's).

I felt sick to my stomach when he told me about his cheating. He says that he doesn't feel guilty and can't really explain why. He knows it's wrong. He talked about going to the bar with friends and having cute girls hit on him, even though they know he's married (don't get me wrong, he is the only one responsible) and how this is attention he doesn't get at home. He doesn't blame his wife though because she takes care of their child and that takes all her attention and effort. He's justifying this rather easily though.

I want to scream at this friend and tell him not to screw up his marriage and family. I want to tell him that I'm jealous of that family of his and can't stand that he's out sleeping with young women behind his wife's back. But I don't feel like it's my place...for several reasons. First off, I can't imagine how difficult it must be to be with one person for ten years. There is no doubt that the temptations and desires must be unbelievably strong. And I've never been in a relationship longer than 2 years, which is still way different than being married so...

Anyhow, this is weighing on me pretty heavy. This is a really close friend and I recently spent time with his family. I can't help but feel that this will end badly - and I think this friend is better than this. But I can't really relate to this situation. And I'm questioning whether it's my place to say something or not. Sometimes I think I get involved in things that I shouldn't, albeit with good intentions.

Anyhow, I'd say 70 percent of my married friends have at least one cheating partner. The sad thing is (and it scares me) is that I'm almost getting to a place where I think I'd be understanding of someone cheating on me. I wouldn't want it to happen of course but I think I'm almost coming to expect that it's the norm. How sad is that?

DO DRY CLEANERS ACCEPT MAN SUITS?

2007-08-26T14:59:00.000-05:00

Have you seen the new commercials for Dial soap for men? The tag line for the advertisement is something like, "care for your man suit." Or something like that. "Man suit" makes me laugh. My "man suit" is hairy. I don't know what has happened. I woke up one day and had hair growing out of my shoulders. My shoulders! That's just not right. I'm at the point where I refuse to take my shirt off...even at the beach.

I'm not sure if this is a bi-product of it BUT I sweat a hell of a lot more now too. Which is really embarrassing at the gym. I'm the sweaty guy (sigh). By the middle of my workout I look in the mirror and see that the back of my shirt is drenched...as are these two spots under each man boob. I think it's actually the bottom of my ribcage that sticks out a bit and collects the sweat but either way it makes it look like I have two little, tiny, lactating boobs under my regular man boobs. I hate it. Most of the people in the gym look nowhere near as sweaty as I do by the end of their workout. I look like I sat in a sauna for five hours...then jumped in a pool. Why can't I be the cool looking guy at the gym? You know, the guy that uses EVERY machine and doesn't sweat a drop. Yeah, he's also the guy with the sunglasses.

Two complaints about the gym:
1. Why are you talking on your cell phone as you run? Is it that important? Do you also talk to your friends between huffs as you're having sex? This annoys me beyond words.
2. Guys - please don't wear shorts so tight that you can see your junk pile. First off, it can't be comfortable and second off, no one really wants to see that. Do girls like that? I think it looks ridiculous, completely unnatural. And if you are this guy, please don't talk to me. It makes me uncomfortable. Just as uncomfortable as the naked guy that blow dries his entire body in the middle of the locker room.

Am I being a prude American? Probably. Sorry about that. Just a few gym comments for the day.

TO CHOOSE A FAMILY AND HIGH-PAYING FUN JOB, TURN TO PAGE 112

2007-08-25T09:26:00.000-05:00

I've spoken with several of my friends recently and heard a similar line from each, "I'm still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up." Of course this is tongue in cheek as we are all "grown ups" but it seems to be a common feeling for most. What do we want to do with our lives?

The good news is that we live in an age where the options are nearly endless. We don't get stuck in a trade as our grandfathers did years ago - we have the opportunity to try new things. As with most things in life, this opportunity brings good and bad luggage. It's fantastic that we have these choices but it brings a lot of stress with it. When the choices are many we can create anxiety around the simple act of even making a choice. Let alone the worry that when we do make a choice it creates a roadblock on all the other paths we could have chosen. It's like a choose your own adventure book. Once you pick a route, you wonder what would have happened had you made a different choice earlier.

I feel like I'm at this stage right now. I have the opportunity to choose virtually any future direction I want. But I'm having trouble deciding which path I want to choose.

RAPING MOTHER TERESA

2007-08-24T17:51:00.000-05:00

I was reading today about a new book coming out next month about the life of Mother Teresa. In it are letters she sent to her spiritual adviser describing her struggles in faith. They are rather dark letters where she states that she questions the existence of god. She talks about how her smile is a facade. I don't know about you but when someone like Mother Teresa struggles with faith it makes me feel a little bit better.

I really want to read the book but there is a conflict here - she wanted the letters destroyed...and here they are being printed in a book. I never read Kurt Cobain's journal for the same reason, he likened someone reading his journal to rape. So I'm not sure how I feel about being one of the people that treads on their wishes.

I haven't written much about my struggles with faith on this blog but it's at the core of my constant questioning on pretty much every issue of life.

(HEART) BREAK OUT

2007-08-23T19:36:00.000-05:00

Alright I'm just going to say it. I've beat around the bush for too long. I've written about this topic constantly but I've been hiding something from you...and me.

I'm afraid of relationships. There. I've said it. I don't think I'm afraid of BEING in a relationship, I think I'm afraid of being WRONG about a relationship. After all, I've been wrong about every one I've been in! I really don't trust my heart and mind to work together. They don't seem very good in tandem. In fact, I think they got into a fight when I was little and have ceased communication ever since. I've been in a couple of relationships where I truly saw a long-term future. By "saw" I mean "felt", because I think a strong emotion hid whatever signs may have indicated that that emotion was unrealistic. I understand that an emotion is always true but when it leads to naive perceptions I'm not sure how to feel about that.

And as I grow older that fear grows greater. But not greater in a deeper sense. Greater in the sense that there is more of it. For instance, now I fear that I won't trust my emotion to a point that it will take relationships longer to evolve into a deeper union. This scares me more than anything. And here is where it really causes problems - women look at my lack of openness as a sign of distrust towards them (which I don't blame them), when I think the truth is that I don't trust myself. I don't trust that emotion.

I really hope that my current desire to remain single and concentrate on writing isn't a product of this fear as well. I think that would be tragic. I don't know that I'd ever forgive myself if that were deemed true. Life is too short for this shit. I'm just having trouble breaking out of it.

ANGER MANAGEMENT

2007-08-21T13:15:00.000-05:00

I was talking to a friend of mine recently about her anger. She is 38 years old, married, with 3 children. She said, "sometimes I get so angry at my husband or the kids that I go blind. It's a near blackout and I never know what I'm going to do."

This fascinates me for several reasons. First off, I know this woman pretty well and feel strongly that this is due to a deep-seeded resentment over her missing out on her younger years (she was first pregnant at 16) and over the poor parenting she received. I'm no psychologist but this is what I would guess. Second, when I was in the late teens/early twenties I used to have a similar problem. I would never "black out" from anger but I would get so angry that I'd lose control and, yes, even my vision would be affected. Not good. Over the years this has diminished and I seldom feel that rage anymore. I think I talked about this in an earlier post as well - sometimes I even miss the rage...as odd as that may seem. None-the-less I'm aware of how much better life is without that rage. I'm not sure exactly when I lost it but I know it has subsided considerably.

I worry that this friend of mine will never lose her rage. I worry that for the rest of her life she will have this resentment that she can never fix (you can't bring back your younger years) and that's no way to live. If there is something I've learned this past year it's that you can't dwell on the past because the future is wide open. Meaning, you can make a lot of the future, almost anything, but you can't make it the past.

SUPERPERV

2007-08-20T18:22:00.000-05:00

I went and saw the movie "Superbad" this afternoon. It had its funny moments but overall I'd say it was just okay. I think the funniest part about this movie was watching the people in the theater with me! First off, this movie is raunchy. Really raunchy. And there was this pervert sitting in the aisle with me that would say, "yeah baby" every time the movie showed a pair of tits. And I mean, EVERY TIME. And there were a lot of tits in this movie. Unbelievable. I wanted to punch the guy in the head. It would have been more endearing if he had tourettes.

And I'm so self-conscious that I kept worrying people were going to think I was saying it. Or that he was with me or something. So I totally booked out of the theater the moment it ended. What a perv.

It always disturbs me though when adults have young children at a movie like that. I saw at least two families there with children under the age of 10. Now I'm not naive, I know kids are going to encounter this stuff at some point anyhow but I can't imagine it's healthy to introduce it to them early. Likewise it wouldn't necessarily be healthy to shelter someone from it until the age of 40 either. But if I ever have a daughter I might try my best to do just that!

AM I FOOLING MYSELF?

2007-08-19T14:27:00.000-05:00

Sorry for the delay in my posting. I've been entertaining visitors all week.

Today will be a quick post - I have written recently about how for the first time in my life I'm feeling okay with being single and the diminishing chances of having a family at some point. Of course, just to throw a wrench into my contentment I had an interesting experience this week.

One of the people visiting NYC was my brother's best friend from high school. He was here with his wife (who was taking a seminar at Columbia University) and his 7 month old daughter. His daughter was so cute and well behaved that I fell in love immediately. And she took to me right away - smiling and reaching for me. I ended up carrying her as we walked around Central Park and her father and I discussed the evolution of our lives. Instantly I felt a longing for that life which was completely opposite of mine. So here I am, once again, questioning my desires. Why did this girl have to be so damn cute?

I'M NOT UNHAPPY, I'M JUST JOY-CHALLENGED!

2007-08-15T08:38:00.001-05:00

I don't know if this holds true for everyone but I was wondering, what makes people feel lonely or isolated? What makes us feel different? Is it because we feel misunderstood? Or maybe because we feel people can't relate to certain emotions or ideas we have?

I understand a feeling of loneliness or isolation that can come from not believing anyone else could possibly feel like you do. It's something I carry with me quite often. It's not an arrogant emotion - as if I'm special for feeling this way when others can't - it's a burdening, lack of confidence, "I don't belong" emotion.

What I can't understand is why I can't see it from a different perspective. Wouldn't it be great if you could look at yourself and instead of seeing someone "different" you see someone "unique"? Instead of seeing someone "strange" you see someone "special"? How often do you meet someone and think, "gee, that person is exactly like me in every way"? Never! Because no one (I don't think) contains the same exact bundle of attributes. That's why our DNA is completely unique. So why do I find it so hard to look at the traits that distinguish me from others as being special instead of a burden? Why do I feel different and strange instead of proudly unique? I suppose it's all in my perspective. I wish I would embrace it instead of shun it.

How we look at ourselves is one thing, but something I can't reconcile is when we feel as if no one can relate to us. Not in general really, but rather emotionally or even with very specific thoughts. Part of me tells myself that there is always someone out there that feels the same way, the world is too big. I just haven't met them yet. I use books, art and movies to act as a placeholder for my comfort. In the end we all want a human understanding.

I bet you think I got off track here, right? What I guess I'm saying is, if I could see myself as having "special" traits instead of "strange" or "different" traits I think it might go a long way towards curing my "unrelatable syndrome."

If only it was an easy fix...

ONE ON ONE

2007-08-12T19:09:00.001-05:00

Friday night a friend of mine and I went to see the Broadway play "Frost Nixon." It was fantastic, really a great play. It was about the first interview Richard Nixon had after stepping down as President of the United States because of the Watergate scandal. They agreed to do the interview with a soft talk-show host believing they were much smarter than him so they would come out looking great. At the same time the interviewer is trying to coax Nixon into admitting his part in Watergate.

I wasn't born yet when Watergate took place so I wasn't aware of this interview that actually took place (it's being made into a movie as well). The fact that I didn't know the facts in this case made the play that much more interesting. Anyhow, it was great - but what I wanted to post about was something that the play touched on.

Towards the end of the play, Nixon calls up the interviewer before they tape the final few hours of the show and basically compares the interview to a bull fight. One person will win. One will lose. Lets both give it our best shot and may the best man win type of speech. Nixon looked at the interview in the same way he saw politics - a dual. Now, I can admire that to a degree. I admire the strength and courage that type of outlook contains...especially for someone who apparently lived their entire life that way. But some things in life aren't supposed to be treated as a dual. Politics is supposed to be about vision, leadership and welfare of society. To achieve those goals you can't look upon every move as a fight. You need to compromise and have an open-mind along with an understanding of culture and values. Somewhere along the line politics became a scorecard. It's less about the welfare of society and more about how many points you can score on you opponent. Someone play offense and someone plays defense. That's fine for a basketball court but not for people being paid a lot of money to represent a large community of individuals. You are supposed to be their voice...NOT their champion or hero. A voice to express, and a hand to build. Nothing more and nothing less.

I haven't spoken about politics on this blog but I'm fascinated by it. I'm fascinated by the power it has to change things. And I'm fascinated by the power it has to corrupt. Unfortunately I believe we are at a time where the power to corrupt has overtaken the desire to change. Fortunately I live in a country where, if the people get angry enough, they can actually fix it. That's what keeps me from despair.

Okay, no more politics for a while after this. I'll get back to some more philosophical posts. Stay tuned...

DON'T LOOK AT ME WHEN YOU READ THIS!

2007-08-09T08:10:00.000-05:00

Why do I blog? It's a great writing exercise and, of course, therapeutic. But I could just write in my journal and achieve these objectives, right?

I must be the strangest blogger in the blogosphere. I've told less than a handful of people about my blog (most of which reside in a country outside the United States). I don't promote it or play the "search engine game." So why bother? Most people look to make money off their blogs or build communities of like-minded individuals. What am I doing here?

I suppose it's my baby-step towards being more open. Although I don't promote this blog, I know there is a chance that someone could come across it (like my first ever Internet friend - hi, Lachrimae!). That makes it slightly more risky...and rewarding. And the simple fact that it is on the Internet for anyone to come across makes it feel like I'm being more open - something a journal entry can't do.

When I first started this blog I was cryptic with my messages and less intimate. I would write something here and then run to my room to write the emotional details in my journal. That has changed and now my blog has become a more honest extension of my journal.

In any case, I'm very happy with the emotionally-open progress I feel I've made since blogging. I'm not where I'd like to be, or rather where most other people would like me to be, but I'm slowly improving. Maybe one day I'll send a link to this blog to people who I'll actually see face-to-face on a consistent basis. Uh, that may be a while though...

WHY?

2007-08-07T20:51:00.000-05:00

I think I complain a lot about the "state of society." Often I post about the crisis many people face in the world and the unfortunate existence people have to endure. I don't feel that way all the time. I mean, I do...I recognize that these hardships exist constantly, but every once in a while I'll have this moment that, for an instant, removes it from my heart and mind. This "moment" is a brief example of what I imagine heaven to be like. Yesterday I experienced this personal nirvana. I was strolling down the sidewalk, taking a walk around my neighborhood. The sky was clear and the sun was shining brightly - I was watching my shadow mimic me on the nearby wall. As usual I had my headphones on, I think a tune from a 70's compilation was playing. I can't remember what song it was. It doesn't really matter. Then it happened. I had my "moment." I was filled with an intensity. A good intensity. A joyful intensity. It ran through my entire body. I may have even shivered. It's such a powerful feeling, as if I can accomplish anything. As if everything is perfect. I felt like I could burst. I looked around me and saw the tall apartment complexes, the children riding bikes, the Hispanic men on the corner waiting for work, and the intensity climbed. It peaked. My pace quickened and my head was high. I turned the corner and it was gone. It left my body but a small piece of it remained. I could feel it tingling ever so lightly. Soon it would be gone as well. This "moment" happens to me occasionally. Not often, but every once in a while.

I wonder how great it would be to have that feeling all the time. Shouldn't we all? I mean, although I can have a bleak disposition more often than not, doesn't it make more sense that it should be the reverse? I love these "moments" I have because when I look around all I see is beauty. I hesitate to call it "love" only because I'm not sure it's that exactly. None-the-less, "love" is the only word I can think of that carries the power I'm trying to relay. Truly, I look around and everything seems such an amazing gift. A miracle. Even things that I looked at hours before as an ugly blemish on the world, now looks stunningly beautiful. And soon, after that crumb of a tingle dissipates, I'll see it again as a discouraging blemish I'm cursed to see. Why?

Partly I think we do it to ourselves. Watch a newscast, you'll see story after story of the most depressing events possible. Events so sad that even the most creative mind would hesitate to allow it entrance. And the news not only reports it, but sensationalises it. You know why I think they do that? Because it creates an emotion. Even if it's a sad emotion, it's an emotion. And we remember emotions. It would be much more difficult to create an emotion similar to the moment I described before. I don't even think that's possible. So they create the emotion it can. But in doing so I think we fall into an emotional shackle where we start to see things in a darker light. Eventually, after decades of this evolution of a darkened outlook it becomes a part of us. We grow accustomed to it. We even begin to love it. It makes us feel safe in a way. Which is highly ironic considering it can be born of fear. I should clarify that - it makes us feel safe because it sets the bar of life so low. It would be hard to fail. It even gives us an excuse.

I wish I could change my outlook so that I had these "moments" more often. So that I saw the beauty that I know exists, more often. That's the thing, I know the beauty is there...in everything. It's just clouded by a thick layer of life. A layer of life that has been handed down from generation to generation with a darker tint than the generation before. Eventually we have to really concentrate to see the beauty. But as our mind grows tired of concentrating, the layer returns. I hesitate to say it's too late to change things because we got to this point after all, but I shudder at the thought of what kind of event would change the tide. I would do anything to be a part of that process though...whatever it was. I spoke about this "tingle" that remained with me for a few seconds after the intensity of my moment had subsided. Well, what if it DIDN'T disappear? What if it was still there and I had just grown numb from it? What if it was just sitting there, idle, waiting for me to realize it could blossom at any time?

Even after writing all this I'm very aware that my post tomorrow could be about my daily sorrows. I know this. And for someone who occasionally believes he possesses the strength to handle and accomplish anything, I don't dare fool myself into believing I can change that aspect of myself. I, also, have grown comfortable with my darkened disposition. I actually fear changing it. Why would I fear it? Imagine being the only person in the world to see heaven on earth. Imagine how much you would be hated. Imagine how despised you would be. Imagine not being able to share it with anyone. No, I suppose that would be like hell. Knowing we were all in heaven but not being able to get anyone else to understand. That would break my heart. That I couldn't take.

I often write in my journal, "what have we done with the world?" Well, maybe we haven't messed it up quite as bad as we think. Maybe we're just looking at it all wrong. A majority of the time I know I'm looking at it wrong. What I can't figure out is can I change that? And, more importantly, do I want to?

MAYBE I SHOULD JUST WATCH TV LIKE EVERYONE ELSE

2007-08-06T09:27:00.000-05:00

Is the desire to make the world a better place an egotistical goal? Is it arrogant? Before I close my eyes for the last time I would like to think that I made a positive difference in the world - one that will ripple along for decades...maybe even forever. I have no idea how I'm going to do this. Deep down in my soul I feel like I can achieve this goal. I suppose that's where the arrogance comes in. Anyhow, I firmly believe that the greatest contribution one can make to life is to raise a child well. That is a contribution that will touch and "ripple" for such a long time. But lets say that children aren't in my future - what is my alternative?

If a family isn't in the stars for me then I suppose the opportunities are pretty wide open. Almost as endless as the pain and injustice throughout the world that seeks a remedy. Where to start? What makes me think my ideals or ideas are right? What if my idea of change, backed by good intentions, is more harmful than positive? What if I reach above my potential? Maybe I don't have the talent to make a huge change in the world. Maybe I'm supposed to live life like so many people do, simply surviving and making a quiet contribution that may not be fully realized by anyone...but exists.

Can I be happy with a "quiet contribution" assuming I realize the positive impact I had? Even if it's only affecting one person? It sure seems less satisfying to me but I suppose I'll take what I can get. There are so many people that make quiet contributions in the world while simply trying to survive. But if I'm not going to have a family (an ordinary life) then I want to be extraordinary in another arena making positive strides. I almost feel it's a necessity in my life.

Oh geez, now that I re-read what I just wrote I feel more arrogant than ever. Feeling a necessity to be extraordinary? What makes me so special? What makes me believe I can be extraordinary? I don't know. I'm just at an exciting crossroads in my life where within the next year I think I will have the opportunity to decide where my life heads. But more than that, I feel like things have been set up in my life so that the near future lends itself to being my most productive. So what will I do? What should I do? I'll just keep chugging along and hoping I'm heading in the right direction...but I'm keeping my eyes open for something extraordinary...

YOU GOTTA PROBLEM WITH THAT? (BROOKLYN ACCENT)

2007-08-05T10:25:00.000-05:00

I will, most likely, never consider myself a "New Yorker." There are so many things I love about NYC - the fact that you can get ANYTHING delivered at 4 am on a Sunday, the energy, the classic movie theaters, the fruit stands, the skyline. I could go on. What I did not include in this list is, "the people." Now I've met some absolutely wonderful people in New York. I've made some great friends...BUT...overall I'm not a fan of the mentality here. Money rules Manhattan and it just seems so absurd to me. People (I'm generalizing) seem more concerned with the brand name of their over-sized sunglasses than anything else. And it sucks people in. I've witnessed first hand the arrival of fellow mid-westerners with their core religious values, eye's wide at the towering skyscrapers turn into Hyde. It doesn't take long before they are using their credit cards to buy goods while skimping on food. I understand the need to fit in...I just don't like it when "fitting in" means what it means in Manhattan.

As I said, I've made great friends in NYC but MOST of the people I meet I can't relate to, or don't want to relate to. The priorities are messed up. I think I mentioned in an earlier post about the evening I had with an ex-coworker (someone I would say is a friend but someone who fits in the above characterization), where her and her husband spent twenty minutes debating back and forth over who bought who the more expensive, prestigious gifts. It was shameful. It literally turned my stomach. I know I shouldn't be chastising people for how they want to live life. It's their prerogative. But, as you know, I'm searching for a greater peace and these types of life philosophies bother me. I feel like THEY are hurting themselves. But THEY seem happier than me so who's the idiot here? Anyhow, I also believe in social conditioning. I feel strongly for those who are given less of a chance in life because of what they were born into or events they encountered. I suppose I need to have the same sympathy for those on the other end of the spectrum as well. If sympathy is deserving...as I said, some appear to be happier than most so...

Having said all this I can't stand when people put NYC down. I do feel a kinship here. Sharing the city with 8 million people everyday, on the subway and across crowded streets will do that. I find New York lonely (a side-effect of the above mentality I think) and incredibly romantic as well. I will always have a place in my heart for New York. I just don't feel like I fit in with the majority of the inhabitants. Then again, I think that's something that makes New York great - everyone is represented.

Since I consider myself one giant paradox maybe New York City was the place for me. When the time comes for me to leave this city I'll tip my hat to it as I gallop along to a quieter retreat.

NO LONGER A GROUPIE

2007-08-03T17:13:00.000-05:00

I've noticed a change in myself recently - I no longer enjoy group settings as I once did. I actually feel uncomfortable and uneasy at events with more than four people. And there are a lot of event with more than four people! Especially in NYC.

I doubt people notice...I'm still pretty good at carrying on a conversation but I no longer feel good about it. As I posted previously, I'm finding myself more and more annoyed with "small talk." And in group settings I feel that is the majority of the conversation. By far I prefer one-on-one, more intimate conversation. I'm a little concerned that I feel uncomfortable in group settings now. It's one thing not to like them as much but it's another to feel uneasy in them. Again, I doubt people notice...but I do.

I've really become a bit of a loner over the past two years. The times I go out with friends are typically because THEY contact me. I'm bad at staying in touch and often find myself preferring low key activities to a night of bar hopping with friends. Most of my weekends involve seeing classic movies...by myself. And then going to the park to write. I'm not complaining, this is my choice. I worry a little about WHY I prefer movies and writing to social functions. But I don't have much of an answer to it. If you told me three years ago that my life would become what it has I would place the odds at 1000 to 1. And I would have bet the house on it. And I would have lost the house.

Okay, I got off-topic. The entire point of this post comes down to this: Has my preference for low-key activities affected my social skills? I've had 31 years of what I'd consider exemplary social skills. Could two years of increased solitude-time already diminish those skills?

THE WORLD IS FLAT

2007-08-02T21:10:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking a lot about where my life is right now and where it could end up in say 5 years. In the end I always come back to one question - what's the point? But that is such an abstract question that I've decided to refine it....so...in the end, what do I want to be proud of? And what do I want to be remembered for? I know friends who can answer these questions without missing a beat. Me? I feel like I could answer them differently each passing year. My answer to these questions now will, in all likelihood, be quite different in a year.

An even bigger question might be: are these the right kind of questions to be asking? I'm somewhat jealous of a friend of mine - she is a happy-go-lucky individual who believes the point to life is simply to enjoy it (I've blogged about this philosophy recently). As much as I would like to think that way, I'm just not able to. I try, but I feel something lacking. Maybe that will change in the future. For now I'll remain jealous of her and keep asking all these questions of which I will never find an answer. Having just written that last sentence I feel rather ridiculous.

GIDDY UP!

2007-07-30T19:57:00.000-05:00

I'm boring. I can see how people could easily be "over me" in a short span of time. I'll grant myself that I have experienced a lot and have a wide variety of interests but I still think I'm boring. Actually, now that I just wrote that maybe boring isn't the right word. I think the better word is "exciting." I'm not very exciting. I think this has also been a big part of my problem with relationships. Women want to be excited, and I don't blame them. Who doesn't want to be excited? But I'm not very exciting. I'm practical. I'm an idealist with realist tendencies. I'm a dreamer that seldom shares those thoughts for fear of ridicule. I analyze EVERYTHING. I am emotionally open...but not on the topics I hold closest to my soul. I'm just not very exciting. I used to be exciting. That used to be the appeal for women. I used to drink a lot. I did drugs. I was argumentative and angry. I was rebellious against just about everything. I was opinionated. Women seemed to like that. Then I stopped drinking so much. I gave up drugs. I became more open-minded. I felt my anger subside. I became boring (or unexciting, whatever).

When I look in the mirror I wonder where that reckless boy went. Sometimes I want him to come back. Most of the time I'm glad he's gone. I just wish being me was more exciting. Actually, I'm happy with the "excitement" in my life - especially right now. I guess what I'm saying is I wish OTHER people found me exciting. The thought of that makes me laugh though. I can't see anyone finding me very exciting - not after the initial period at least.

A friend of mine from Texas said the following the other night, "At first girls think it's exciting to be with a cowboy (he's a cowboy) but after a while they can't understand why I can't be a cowboy just some of the time and not all the time. Well, I'm a cowboy." I guess I kind of feel the same way. At first I think women find my life fairly exciting - in a possibility kind of way. Then they see what my life actually entails and it just isn't very glamorous. How do you make writing and dreaming glamorous? I wish I knew. Maybe I should become a cowboy.

LOOK ON THE BRIGHT SIDE

2007-07-29T20:42:00.000-05:00

I was watching a movie tonight (big surprise) where one of the characters told the following story, "I was laying on the beach when a butterfly landed next to me. It was a brown butterfly with red dots. It was just a foot away, not scared of me at all. They have short lifespans. I just watched it as it laid there opening and closing it's wings over and over again and it occurred to me that maybe that's what life is about. Enjoying the sand and the sun and just opening and closing our wings."

Now assuming that's true - assuming the meaning of life is to, essentially, enjoy it, is an interesting thought to me. Truly I like the idea as an okay alternative to working towards some higher ground or spiritual enlightenment and fulfillment. BUT how can we be expected to do so? Let me clarify. Say we buy into the aforementioned meaning of life theory but every day we hear about the ugly things going on in the world and the hardships so many people endure. How can we enjoy life when so many consider it hell? I don't think I can reconcile those two ideas.

SALVADORE DALI-ESQUE

2007-07-28T09:15:00.000-05:00

This has been a strange summer. Good, but strange. I sort of feel like I'm in a surreal universe right now. Like I'm going to wake up and things will finally make sense. Ah, it was all just a dream...

But I'm pretty sure it's not a dream. And I'm not just referring to all the side-projects I have going on. It's the people I've been meeting and the activities I've been privy to. I was going to list examples of how these things are surreal but it's difficult. Surrealism as a whole is a difficult quality to explain. It would be like describing the characters in the movie Blue Velvet - odd and a bit strange but I'm not really sure how to describe "why."

In a strange way this surreal summer fits me. I feel somewhat comfortable in it while at the same time feeling anxious with it. I'm not sure that this post is making any sense at all, and no, I'm not drunk. I'm just having a tough time describing my current living situation. In any case, I'll just continue to hope things move in a positive direction and that my certain pending insanity hasn't arrived early.

On a side note - a met a girl who had surgery on her nipples to keep them constantly erect. She thinks it's a sexy quality. I'm not disagreeing...just wondering WHO DOES THAT?!

Surreal...

POOR SHOWING

2007-07-25T20:49:00.000-05:00

As you've read I'm very excited about the things going on in my life right now. Its been encouraging - there have been indicators that things are headed in the right direction.

Last night I went out with a couple of friends that were visiting NYC - I hadn't seen them in close to ten years. They were asking me about how things are going and I filled them in on the events that have added some excitement to my life. Half way through the evening I felt like a dope. I felt like I was talking about all these "great" things and it made me look pompous or something. I always hated people that were always talking about all these things in their lives that were "so great." I never want to be that person. I grew very uncomfortable. I felt like they thought I was lying or trying to impress them. When in reality I was just telling the truth...but I still felt like a jerk. Do you know the kind of people I'm talking about? I never want to be like that. Anyhow, I think I'll just keep those things to myself for now on, except for when I'm speaking with really close friends. I think I made a poor showing last night. *sigh*

WOODY CAN BE GOODY

2007-07-23T21:27:00.000-05:00

I'm feeling anxious. Don't know why. Maybe it's because my editing class is winding down - it's my last week. Or, more likely, it's because I find out if I get the consulting job I applied for within the next week. Have I mentioned that? I applied for a part-time marketing consultant job that runs from mid-August through the end of the year. It would be almost too perfect if I get the gig because it'll pay me enough to take up to a year off (if I wanted to) after the job is over AND it's only three days a week so I could continue writing and exploring life. Please keep your fingers crossed for me - I should have an answer by the middle of next week. How can I possibly complain about anything when this type of situation is available to me? I feel like such a dope sometimes.

Other than that I'm ready to start in on a new screenplay. Not sure what I'll write about but I have a few ideas. I feel like things are starting to come together for me. Like I'm headed in the right direction for the first time in my life. Of course, if I am headed in the right direction I don't think it's possible that it could be for the "first time in my life" because everything leading up to now has led me ...here. So...

Something has changed with me recently though. For the first time in my life (a true statement this time) I have lost my want for a girlfriend. I'm not saying I don't want it BUT the idea of getting into a relationship right now doesn't excite me. And that is not normal for me. I typically have regarded a relationship as the most important thing I could secure in my life. I no longer feel that way. I think if it happens, great. And if not, I'm actually (at least right now) okay with it. Ask me in two weeks and I'll probably give you a different answer but for right now it's real. I've had a few dates lately and as I sat across from the girl and got to know her I realized that I don't feel like putting the effort in that is needed to make a relationship work. I'd rather write and work at making movies. Ideally I'll meet someone who understands my priorities and is okay with it. Actually, I just need someone to understand me. Period. But I do feel like that is a pretty slim chance. But who knows.

The only time I've felt lonely recently (normally I ALWAYS feel lonely) was last Friday when I went to the Film Forum to see the movie Manhattan with my cousin and his wife. I was the third wheel and there were tons of couples holding hands in the audience. It would have been nice to be with someone. But overall, I've lost that desire a bit. Maybe I'm just focusing so much on everything else that I'm too busy to think about being lonely. Is that a good thing? Anyhow, it's a new situation for me - not constantly craving the perfect relationship. On a side note - the movie Manhattan is incredible. If you've ever been to NYC, or better yet, lived here, you need to see it. The dialogue is hilarious and its admiration for NYC is really romantic. Annie Hall and Manhattan are BY FAR my two favorite Woody Allen movies.

Sorry for the lengthy post - I've been bad at posting lately. After this week it should get more consistent.

LETS TALK ABOUT THE WEATHER

2007-07-17T20:05:00.000-05:00

A friend recently told me I need to relax. I thought that was odd because I'm typically considered by most people to be a laid back guy. In reality I'm somewhere in the middle. Anyhow, I asked this friend what he meant. He said, I don't think I've ever sat down with you when the conversation didn't turn to some political, philosophical or depressing topic.

He's right. I can't help it. It's what I love most about going to a bar or cafe and sharing conversation with people. I want to know their thoughts on the most intimate topics. It intrigues me. I get bored talking about television shows (unless that show is Seinfeld, Sopranos or the Simpsons) and I really don't care to talk about how the work day went. I want to know if they believe in god, and why or why not. I want to know if they believe in one true love, and why or why not. I want to know what makes them giddy inside, what their family is like and if they could be anything they wanted, what would they be? I can see how people could get really sick of my conversations. How they could even believe they were fake. But they aren't. I truly love this kind of stuff. Tell me a secret and you've given me a gift. I mean, what's more interesting in life than other people?

Yes, I know, I've said before that I could easily become a hermit. And I think I could. People annoy the shit out of me. But I still find them oh so interesting.

A GHOST STORY

2007-07-14T09:58:00.000-05:00

Okay, I'm back. This has been a very busy month for me, but I have no complaints. Things are good. I am absolutely loving my film editing class right now. I've learned so much and have really enjoyed the projects. I've also continued writing and enjoying all the wonderful things New York City has to offer. As an example, in my film class we studied D.W. Griffith, a director from the silent film era, and so I was curious to see one of his films. Well, I looked up the movie show times for theaters in NYC and low and behold the Museum of Modern Art was showing a D.W. Griffith 1923 silent film over the weekend. Where else (at least in the U.S.) could I find a 1923 silent film at my beck and call but NYC? I love this city. Anyhow, it gets better. I go to see the film and they had a live piano player play music to the silent film - just like it would have been done in 1923. It was so cool. At least for a movie geek like me. Of course I couldn't find anyone interested in going with me, this is one of those things I like to do that others find boring. None the less, I really enjoyed it.

On a side note - A friend of mine recently broke up with his girlfriend and wrote me an e-mail about how upset he was. He said the following which got me thinking, he said, "I had found my purpose in life and it was to make her smile. Now it's over." I've felt like this before but looking back I feel like it was a burst of emotion that wasn't reasonable. I believe in people having a purpose in life but I can't say I agree that it could be serving or loving ONE other person. I don't think that's a direct purpose. Maybe a side purpose. Does this make sense? I would love to be in a relationship with someone that "fits" me. But I don't know if I want my PURPOSE in life to be simply "to be in that relationship." Is this confusing? I feel like this is confusing. Anyhow, just something I was thinking about.

Lastly, I entered a screenwriting contest called the NYC Midnight Screenplay Competition. The competition has 600 people participating. We were all sent a genre and a subject last night at midnight. We have to write a 15 page screenplay about the topic within the genre in 1 week. Then a handful of people move on to the second round where we participate in the same process only this time we only get 24 hours to write the screenplay. My first round genre is: ghost story. The subject is: e-mail. Ugh, what a terribly difficult combination. Well, I'd better start working on this if I'm going to win. Wish me luck!

WORKING TOWARDS I KNOW NOT WHAT

2007-07-07T09:57:00.000-05:00

I've often written about how ridiculous it seems to me that people dedicate their lives to working. I feel I can speak on the subject because I spent ten years doing the same.

Recently I've had to reconsider this principle of mine. I've been spending nearly every waking minute either writing, filming or practicing my digital editing. These are three of my favorite activities to participate in. The problem is, although I enjoy it, I've been dedicating my life to it. Is this a good thing? Should we ever spend a majority of our time doing only a handful of things? Will I miss out on anything by being so limited in my focus, thus becoming less well-rounded?

What if you liked your job? Would it be okay to dedicate the majority of your life to it? Should the test be whether you enjoy the activities or not?

These are a lot of questions. I guess what I really need to evaluate is - am I shunning human contact to an unhealthy degree due to the focus on my activities, and am I spending a majority of my time on activities I do not enjoy and/or are not lending positive aspects to life.

It also comes down to selfishness. I don't think you can just walk through life doing everything YOU want to do. I mean, sometimes people need you to put yourself aside for them. Hopefully it all evens out in the end.

Thoughts?

I COULD SEE MY BLIND DATE WAS HANDICAPPED

2007-07-04T17:05:00.000-05:00

I mentioned a few posts back that I was going on a blind date this week. Well, it happened last night. First off, she is a really sweet woman, but she isn't right for me. And I'm not saying that just because she was slightly overweight...or because she had an artificial limb (it's true, I couldn't make this up).

She was very nervous during the date and even mentioned that she hadn't been on a lot of dates and was uncomfortable around the opposite sex. But as the night went on she calmed down a bit - I think it was just after she accidentally locked herself in the bathroom and had to have the restaurant workers break her out (again, can't make this up).

Okay, I'm being sarcastic with this post. Seriously, it was a pleasant evening. She was really sweet and I enjoyed her conversation...even if she didn't ask me any questions about myself...she referred to herself as "a talker."

The thing is, I don't want to hurt the girl. She was too kind and had an obviously difficult dating life so I wasn't sure how to break it to her that I was only interested in friendship. At the end of the evening I told her that it's tough to meet people in NYC and I really enjoyed going out and meeting someone new - outside of my usual group of friends. I told her I was really concentrating on film and business ventures and finding time to go out will be tough (which is true). So I'm hoping she understands my position. Anyhow, she was different from the vast majority of people I meet so I feel fortunate to have crossed her path and learned of her struggles and desires. I really hope she finds the right person for her. And I really don't want to contribute to any further disappointments for her. This is the part of dating that I hate.

ARE YOU SMARTER THAN A THREE YEAR OLD?

2007-07-01T13:43:00.000-05:00

I babysat my cousin's kids last night and one of the little munchkins threw up on me. That sucked. But that's not what I wanted to write about.

Every time I babysit for my cousin I look at his two kids (ages 3 and 1) in awe that I, also, was once that age. Exploring everything I could get my hands on. Asking "why" to questions that don't even warrant a "why". Looking in wide-eyed wonder at each new aspect of each new day. Not wanting to sleep - afraid I'd miss something.

I often think that if we could go through life with this type of wonder each day, we would accomplish so much more, be so much happier and respect life to the degree it deserves. But we take for granted everything we have. And I am as guilty of this as anyone can be. When did it stop? When did I lose that twinkle in my eye? When did things stop surprising me?

People often say we can learn life's greatest lessons from the children around us. I agree. But do we practice what we learn?

TOP HEADLINE: HUMANS HATE THE WORLD

2007-06-29T08:17:00.000-05:00

Every morning I wake up, walk to the computer and read the same 5 websites. Drudgereport.com, cnn.com, espn.com, freep.com and hotmail.com (my e-mail).

I don't know why I start my day off this way. Sometimes when I read the headlines on cnn.com or drudgereport.com my heart sinks and I lose all the morning energy I had just five minutes prior to reading these sites. Can the world really be this much of a mess? Has it always been this much of a mess but now we report on it more efficiently? This world has so much for all of us to embrace yet we kill each other and destroy the planet while doing so. Power, money and greed seem to have made their way across the globe and now it's a self-centered fight to the finish.

The people who seem to have a more enlightened view of life, and the world as a whole, are being shackled. Shackled by what I don't know. Fear? Or maybe having a better understanding of life makes you meeker during the battles being fought by society on a daily basis. Maybe there's an idea that no matter what one person says or does, the world's problems will never be remedied. Or maybe they aren't supposed to be "fixed."

I always liked the idea of there being a balance to life. But only when "balance" means even. If we could all just be on an even scale of understanding, acceptance and love. But we aren't. I'm afraid that anymore "balance" represents half the world being "up" and the other half being "down." No one should be born into either of these halves. It's not fair to anyone on either side.

Here are today's top headlines:

A car bomb in London is defused.
Five soldiers die in Baghdad
Wildfire evacuees return to view scorched homes
Friends saw cheerleaders SUV hit truck
80,000 hit by South Asia monsoon floods
Harry Potter star nervous at first kiss

Uh, do any of these feel out of place? I may have to save my celebrity-obsession rant for another day...

ALL BLACK PEOPLE LISTEN TO GANGSTER RAP AND HATE WHITEY

2007-06-29T08:05:00.001-05:00

I had drinks with a friend last night. I haven't seen him in close to six months so we had a lot to catch up on. I cherish the conversations I have with this friend because we come from two very different worlds but can talk calmly about tough topics without hating each other for our unique perspectives.

This friend of mine is an African-American from the ghetto in Brooklyn. He has made something great out of his life, especially considering where he has come from. Last night we discussed race relations in American and it was an enlightened conversation, as always. I find it difficult to accept sometimes that the color of someones skin can still affect perceptions before any factual information is used. I can be guilty of this at times as well. I wonder if we'll ever get to a place where color, gender and religion don't lead to a stereotyped perception. I don't even know if that's possible as I'm afraid human nature plays a role here. But it would solve a lot of problems.

Basically, we discussed how a better educational system is needed to help us achieve true equality. In America there is no debate that equality, like anything, can be achieved through the one thing that America loves most...money. Education can lead to financial security thus helping racial integration, acceptance and equality. It's such a pro and con of this country.

MERMAID PARADE

2007-06-27T21:00:00.000-05:00

Here are a few of the photos from the Mermaid Parade - click on the photos for a larger image. See the following post for a description of this surreal event.

UPDATE, UPDATE!

2007-06-27T20:42:00.000-05:00

Man, it's been too long since I last blogged. Where to start?

How about Jury duty. We deliberated this past Monday and eventually, after much discussion, decided on a unanimous guilty verdict for all 5 charges (3 counts of Robbery, Assault with a deadly weapon and possession of an illegal firearm). I feel very secure with our verdict but when you stand in front of an accused man, with his family standing behind him, and have to say "guilty" five times, it is disheartening and sad. A man's life just changed and I played a role. I'm glad I have fulfilled my duty for at least another six years.

Last Saturday I attended the Mermaid Parade at Coney Island. It's the most bizarre parade on earth...I'm sure of it. I've posted some pics above. Now, I don't want anyone to misunderstand what I'm about to say because I LOVE Coney Island for everything it is and everything it isn't BUT the Mermaid Parade is the trashiest thing I've ever seen. And thousands of parents bring their children to the parade to take pictures and watch. It's extremely surreal. I love it.

I've also been set up on a blind date scheduled for next Tuesday. I called the girl tonight and we spoke for an hour...I should say SHE spoke for an hour. I basically said things like, "uh huh", "right", and "definitely." At the end of our conversation she described herself as "having a wide face." Now, I'm not a snob and I don't need a girl to be "hot" but I'm a little scared. A wide face? Doesn't that pretty much imply a wide ass? A wide everything? People constantly refer to me as a "lucky" person and I can't really disagree but when it comes to women, I'm not the luckiest at all. I'm hoping Tuesday turns out better than I'm expecting. Stay tuned...

MY 200th POST!!!

2007-06-21T19:37:00.000-05:00

This is my 200th post! When I started this blog I wondered if I would keep it going. At the time I think I really just needed a release from some issues in my life. So far this blog has evolved from a place where I was vague with my emotionally-disconnected self, to a place where I may have been too emotionally-open for my own comfort, to a place where I feel a balance in my posts. And along the way I made my first bloggy friend (Hi Lachramae) and kept an old friend (Hi Polly) along for the ride. I'm pretty sure you are the only two reading this blog, but that's okay to me. I'll forgive you if you happen across some cool guys blog that has more commenter's than mine and decide to ditch poor ol' Pagoda. I'll live...but I can't promise I won't write disparaging posts about you daily...which of course you will never know about because you will have ditched me. I'm just saying.

Today was the first day of testimony in the trial I am a jury member for. It was really quite sad. I can't really talk about the details but the two men involved in this shooting were friends for over 6 years. They knew each others families, children and attended social events together. Then a real estate deal gone bad ruined their friendship and ended in a shooting between the two. Money can be (and usually is) evil.

TO CONTROL A LIFE

2007-06-20T21:12:00.000-05:00

I have been chosen for jury duty. At first, I was hoping not to be picked because I was afraid it would conflict with the film editing class I want to take in July. However, after the judge said he expected the trial to end within four days, I started to get excited about it. The court system here really amazes and intrigues me. I'm actually quite proud of it.

The man on trial is being accused of robbing a house, shooting a man (but not killing him) and carrying an illegal weapon. I'm one of twelve people who will listen to the witnesses and evidence for and against this man and, in the end, have to decide if he is guilty or innocent. The one thing the judge continuously told us as he was questioning the potential jurors is that this man is presumed innocent. He is only presumed guilty once the prosecutor has provided enough evidence to end the presumption of innocence. I like that.

It won't affect my judgement in the case BUT I kept looking over at the accused man and couldn't help but wonder what must be going through his head. What was his life like before being arrested? If he is found guilty, what is he most afraid of losing? This man's life will most likely change either way but a guilty verdict could devastate it. How scared he must be.

And the State of New York has asked me to help determine his fate. I will be elated if I get to cast a not guilty vote with a clear conscience after this case. I will, I think, feel deeply saddened if I need to cast a guilty vote to keep a clear conscience. Stay tuned...the trial starts tomorrow.

I DOUBT THIS POST IS ANY GOOD

2007-06-18T11:17:00.000-05:00

Okay, here is another movie recommendation. I watched an independent film called, "The Puffy Chair." For what it is, a low-budget, hand-held movie, I really enjoyed it. Without giving anything away - the premise of the film could be described as "when in true love, do you know absolutely?"

I've had friends who told me, "You just know." They say you have a feeling inside you that contains no doubt. It's a beautiful thought, and that's how I'd want it to be but part of me just can't believe this is true. I'm the type of person where I ALWAYS have doubt...with EVERYTHING. My brain consistently looks for the "traps" involved in any situation. I can't imagine being in a relationship with someone and not having doubt creep into my mind. I hope I'm wrong but I don't think I'm built that way. See!...doubt!

I know this is an incredibly depressing thought but, my best guess is that everyone settles. People just give up. I think some people just grow tired so they take the next step with who ever they are with. And other's truly believe in their love but after time goes by they question they made the right decision. I just feel like everyone settles. I hope I'm wrong.

I may have mentioned this before but the last time I was home my mom talked about her wedding day. She said it was the happiest day of her life...but the next morning she laid in bed wondering if she hadn't just made the biggest mistake of her life. And she cried for a week. To this day (after 35 years of marriage) she thinks my father probably wasn't the "one" for her but they have worked hard to make it work. Now, if after 35 years I can end up with the strength in love that my parents currently share, I'll be a blessed man. But all the same, it's a depressing situation to me. I understand love takes work but it doesn't seem right to me that it would take THAT much work. But what do I know.

UNDER THE BOARDWALK

2007-06-16T12:33:00.001-05:00

CLICK ON THE PHOTOS TO ENLARGE

Friday I spent the day taking photos at Coney Island. Here are a couple photos I thought were interesting. The top one is of a building that closed on the boardwalk thirty years ago. You can see an old man sunbathing in a chair under the building (lower-right). Doesn't it look surreal? Anyhow, the second photo was taken from under the boardwalk. I found a hole in a fence and climbed through it to see what the underside of Coney Island was like. Pretty much as expected.

COCAINE COWBOYS

2007-06-16T12:22:00.000-05:00

I watched an amazing documentary yesterday called, "Cocaine Cowboys." If you get chance to rent this you won't be disappointed. It shows the ruthlessness of the cocaine trade in Miami (in the 70's and 80's).

Part of the documentary is with a man that confessed to killing an insane number of people. He tells his stories with little remorse. It's chilling to see a man talk about shooting someone in the head and then follow it up with a sentence like, "it was just business." I find it interesting because I feel like he didn't care about his life but, in a way, he held it above all others.

I won't give anything else away in case you decide to see it but make sure you watch the special features on the DVD as well. It has some really interesting stories in there too.

MORE THAN CLOWNS AND MIDGETS

2007-06-13T20:41:00.000-05:00

I wanted to share something I saw in a documentary recently. I was watching a PBS documentary from 1992 concerning Coney Island. Now, as I've written a few times before, I'm obsessed with Coney Island. It is such a bizarre place to me and often as a wander around the boardwalk there I feel like Alice in Wonderland...only with a penis.

A segment of the documentary talked about a time in the early 1900's when one of the most popular amusement parks in Coney Island burnt down. The next day the owner of the now non-existent park addresses the public and said this, "I have problems today that I didn't have yesterday. And the problems I had yesterday I no longer have today."

I love that quote. I think it shows a man that understood the proper perspective of life. What is really important in life? Day to day issues are often less important than we make them out to be. Maybe the only thing truly important in life is having the opportunity to continue living.

IT'S ALL A BIG NOTHING

2007-06-11T20:24:00.000-05:00

So Sopranos is, check that, WAS my favorite show on television. It is now over and I am sad. In my opinion it is still the best show EVER to hit television. Sunday night was the final episode and, although I found it disappointing, it left a lot to ponder.

In a previous season, there is a flashback where Tony's mother tells him (when he is a child) to expect life to be disappointing. "It's all a big nothing" she says. This past season Tony's son mentions that "grandma" told him the same thing. And in the last episode Tony sits side by side with his Uncle who is losing his memory and (I think) realizes that maybe his mom was right and nothing matters. Of course this is coming from a mobster, and he relates everything to his livelihood so it may not be speaking on general life terms. But none-the-less, for arguments sake, lets say you die and all you see is black. You see nothing, you hear nothing...life has ended and that is that. No tunnel of light, no singing angels on high. Does that make it all "a big nothing?" Obviously I don't have the answer to this and I certainly lean one way on this argument...because I feel it necessary. But it's a fair question. And to take it one step further (and I've written of this previously), since we all know we will never attain definitive proof on said topic, is it worth continuing to investigate? Or is that just a big waste of time?

FINISHED THE SCRIPT

2007-06-10T17:42:00.000-05:00

Well, I finished the second draft of the script about my dear friend from Brazil. It's based on her life, which is extraordinarily adventurous. It was a very tough project because I don't know enough about her life to be able to create a character arc or even a lesson within her adventures. But I think I did it fairly. I'm awaiting her response on it which I imagine can't be positive. Not because I don't like what I wrote but rather because it's HER LIFE. I'm not sure what anyone could write would do it justice.

But what I wanted to write about today is what I learned from meeting this person several years ago. MY character arc through HER journey. The day after we broke up (yes, we dated for a bit) and I knew she would be leaving the United States, I wrote this in my journal (this is just a little of the 5 pages I wrote!):

"To meet someone that I feel I could tell anything to, not because they wouldn't judge, but rather because they understood is mind-blowing to me. I thought it an impossible task to find someone who shared these emotions as deeply as I. And now she is gone - with someone else. I hope she is as happy as is possible. She deserves much. And I sit here tired. I am tired, and...surprisingly, a little less lonely. I found someone who understands me. I'm not alone in my thoughts and feelings. Maybe I'm not as alone as I thought."

This person provided me fuel to continue forward...with hope. It always amazes me how we view events and relationships in our life in one way, when in reality they could be about something so much different.

MAYBE IT'S MY TIME

2007-06-08T09:12:00.000-05:00

Every day I have the same conversation with my landlord (he's 87 years old). It goes something like this -

Me: Hi Ben. How are you doing today?
Ben (The Landlord): Not good, not good. I have a cough (pounds chest).
Me: That's no good. Well, it's a beautiful day today (trying to change subject).
Ben: Maybe it's my time (not allowing me to change the subject).
Me: No, no, not yet Ben (Selfish thought runs through my head - will my rent go up if he passes away?)
Ben: What are ya gonna do? (shrugs)
Me: Well, have a good day Ben, hope you feel better.
Ben: Okay.

Seriously, this happens EVERY day. His wife passed away three years ago and I think he is ready himself. One time when he was drunk he told me "I'm ready to visit my wife." But the interesting thing is that I'm pretty sure if he really wanted to die it would have happened already. I mean, he would lay down one day to bed and just not wake up - give up in his mind and let the body follow. But he doesn't. He's actually quite a fighter.

I don't know that I would be such a fighter in his situation. And every day I wonder why he keeps trucking on. But every day I see the mailman and certain neighbors stop by and talk his ear off (Ben says little) and I think that maybe it's not about him. Maybe it's about him being an ear for a neighbor or the mailman. Maybe it's about showing perseverance to the lady down the street that just lost her husband. Maybe Ben's existence as we know it today isn't for or about him at all. Maybe he's sticking around to enrich someone else's life without even knowing it. Maybe that's what life is about for all of us. If so, I'm not sure how to feel about that. It's kind of cool in a way...and also really depressing. As if our purpose is to just keep things running along, but not to actually accomplish anything. I suppose it would take some pressure off of life though.

HIDING INSIDE MY HEAD

2007-06-06T23:59:00.000-05:00

I'm typically a pretty social person. At least in the sense that I don't have trouble talking to people and, quite honestly, enjoy learning about their lives, personalities and thoughts. But lately I've craved solitude. I want to turn my phone off, cancel my e-mail account and take off to the mountains in North Carolina where I can live my new hermit existence.

I don't want to feel obligated to talk to someone after a certain amount of time has elapsed or have a drink with someone just to catch up. I just want to be left alone, rolling thoughts around my skull in peace. I haven't felt like this often, but sometimes. And I can't remember a time from my past where I've wanted to just run away and hide as much as I do right now.

There really isn't a reason I can pinpoint as to why I feel this way. I haven't done anything wrong or had something terrible happen. I don't think I'm scared of anything. I just think I'm tired. Tired of worrying about what I'm going to do next. Tired of people asking me "what's been going on?" Tired of looking in the mirror and critiquing myself. Tired of wondering what people think about me. Tired of justifying my insecurities. Tired of answering the same e-mail surveys from friends. Tired of listening to the same music on my iPod. Tired of thinking about things like this.

I know I won't just run away to some relatively undiscovered land enjoying the sunsets, chirping crickets and clear night sky. I know I won't hide in a cabin in a dense forest reading good literature by the fireside and drinking a local wine. I know I won't climb aboard a Mississippi river houseboat admiring the world's reflection off the water. I know I won't, and that tires me too. But tonight when I fall asleep I'll be pretending I did.

I HAVE NO RHYTHM AND TOO MUCH SOUL

2007-06-05T08:48:00.000-05:00

Occasionally when on a plane or sitting alone in Central Park I'll write some poetry. I'm not very good at it and I'm not even sure of the rules of poetry. None-the-less, I have several notebooks with random poems throughout them.

My poems are typically dark and overly sensitive (big surprise). They wouldn't win any awards. But I thought I'd share a couple anyhow. Here are two I'm comfortable posting.

She Knows

She woke me up
it was half past ten
She told me she knew
no need to pretend

Packed up my things
a few of hers too
Set foot down the road
she told me she knew

It came to this
a moment so true
Wasn't strong enough
she told me she knew

Tried to love her
entire time through
My heart remained numb
she told me she knew

Naive

I believe
fairy tales
I believe
you will love me

I'D TELL YOU MY NAME BUT THEN YOU'D KNOW IT

2007-06-04T13:41:00.000-05:00

Does each blog post make me less interesting? I've always chosen my closest friends by how much of an effort they exert in getting to know me. I pay close attention to the questions asked of me and gauge the sincerity behind them. I want my friends to work at my friendship. The same goes for my love relationships as well. For the record, I have always considered myself a good listener and an enthusiast for getting to know people..so I don't think I'm being hypocritical with what I ask of friends and lovers. I practice what I preach so to say.

I've spoken in the past about my trouble being open with certain things in my life. Typically those "things" are those closest to me. I've mentioned how an ex-girlfriend of mine told me her biggest problem with me was that I didn't open up about the things most important to me - family, love, etc. I think subconsciously it was because I wanted her to really work at learning about those areas of my life. She wanted me to volunteer it. I have trouble doing that.

So back to the point of this post: I don't have as much trouble being open on this blog. Maybe it's because I'm anonymous to the audience, with the exception of one person that reads this. Or maybe it's because it's easier for me to be open through the written word (most plausible). Whatever the reason, I wonder if people who know my most intimate thoughts find me uninteresting. I'm not saying that because I think I'm more boring than the next guy but rather because once you volunteer your most intimate ideas, theories and thoughts, what else is there to learn about this person? It's like a biography of one's mind...and heart. Once someone reads it, what more is there to say? Does each post on this blog make me less interesting?

HE'S SUCH A NICE WUSSY

2007-05-29T21:00:00.000-05:00

Today I went to see a play that my cousin was acting in. It was a very dark script but a well executed staging. The acting was really good (yes, I'm biased). The basic theme of the play was about resentment. A mother resented her husband's weakness and saw her son exhibiting these same weaknesses...so she started hating him as well. The son ends up having an accident and becoming brain dead. The mother thinks this is better than him turning into someone as weak as her husband.

I guess its kind of like the "nice guy finishes last" saying. No one really respects a guy that is so nice he lets people walk all over him. There has to be a line. I think it's an interesting subject. Say you have a nice guy that doesn't stick up for himself ever. Of course no one will respect him. They will say he has no self-respect if he's letting people kick him around all the time. But what if this character actually does have self-respect for his kind nature although it holds him down from achieving a certain job level or financial status. What if this man finds self-respect in his strength to NOT fight back. Is this guy still a sucker? I'd say probably. But in this case at least, I'd respect his idealistic, albeit naive, life choices.

WAIT AND HOPE

2007-05-28T18:49:00.000-05:00

I just got home from a weekend in Detroit (my home town). I saw my brother and his family, and visited with my Aunts and Uncles as well. It is amazing how much I bitch about being alone and yet when I see first-hand the incredible amount of work that goes into sustaining a relationship my knees buckle. I wonder if I can do it. Or maybe a more honest way of putting it is: I wonder if I really WANT to do it.

On a different subject...sort of. I just finished reading The Count of Monte Cristo. It was a fantastic book - long, but well worth it. The moral of the story is (if you haven't read it but think you may, don't read any further) - that despair can be overcome by understanding the power of two words - "wait" and "hope." The overarching theme of a screenplay I'm currently writing is very similar: "you can't predict the future." These are the themes I need to think about when despair creeps into my life.

There have been times when I wanted to end my life. I never gave it a serious try but, at times, pleaded with God for his mercy. The fact that I'm writing this means it wasn't granted. At least not in the way I had requested. The fact is, I DID receive mercy. The mercy however wouldn't be granted for years after my plea. If there is something I have learned in life (at least as much as we believe we have learned) it's that you never know what is in store. Life may seem worthless or too painful for an effort. But you don't know what lies ahead for you. If you have it within you to "wait" and "hope" you may be pleasantly surprised. And if you aren't...well, at least you'll know.

IF ONLY SOMEONE WOULD KICK ME IN THE BALLS

2007-05-22T17:19:00.000-05:00

Where does a disposition come from? I'm asking because over the years I've realized that I have a rather depressing disposition. It seems that I am in my comfort zone when something bad has happened or I'm dealing with adversity. I don't feel comfortable being happy. Typically, after a relationship has not worked out for me I feel sad at first but then relieved. And then I find solace in my loneliness. I don't think it's natural to have "solace" and "loneliness" in the same sentence. I would like to be comfortable with happiness so that I strive for it each day. But instead I find comfort in my pain. An unnatural emotion to strive for. I recently had someone laugh at me for placing the song "Creep" by Radiohead on my myspace page. They said my feelings of inadequacy are a facade. They aren't, I can assure you. But this person may be right in the sense that I attempt to keep myself boxed into a body of longing. Constant longing. In every aspect of my life. It frustrates me. How attractive can someone in constant longing be?

So where does a persons disposition come from? Can it change? Am I doomed to hold myself down in search for comfort within my life? - a comfort placing me steps away from grabbing anything and everything I desire...

MY STOMACH IS RETARDED

2007-05-21T23:51:00.000-05:00

So my last post talked about a feeling I had in my stomach indicating that something positive was on the horizon. Unfortunately, my stomach appears to be retarded. Nothing has happened. Which I guess is better than something bad happening...

Today I decided to treat myself and take a day off of working on my writing. I walked around the city (New York City) and stopped into a few shops and bookstores and stuff. It is my favorite past time - just walking around the city. So much to see and explore. But as I was strolling down St. Marks street I realized how unique we all are. Even when we are trying to be the same. I need to remember this because I often feel that there isn't anything about me that someone couldn't find in someone else. And although that may be true, it would take an amazing match to find two people that are identical in every way. So the odds say that although many people may have a lot of the same qualities as me, they don't have them all. And maybe that is where I should place my focus as opposed to dwelling on the similarities. Does this make sense?

MY STOMACH TALKS

2007-05-17T17:38:00.000-05:00

Do you ever have one of those days where you know something bad is coming? It's a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach and you don't know why...but you know you will soon? I get that occasionally. But that's not what I'm posting about here. Today I experienced the OPPOSITE of that feeling. I have this strange calm inside me as if something good is going to happen. I have no idea what it could be but I feel like sometime soon something positive is going to present itself to me. I'll let you know if that turns out to be true. Fingers crossed...

AMBITION IS THE CURSE OF THE TALENTLESS

2007-05-16T10:03:00.000-05:00

Several months ago I was writing in my journal and the title of this post came to me. I scribbled it in the margin and promised to revisit it at a later date.

So here I am.

If there is one thing I have been told by a great variety of people it's that I am ambitious to the nth degree. When I set my mind to something (which is usually the struggle) I accomplish it. It may not always work to perfection but seldom is it left unfinished.

But here I sit at the age of 31. I have quit my job - which took me ten years of hard work to achieve a position of authority. I am chasing after my dream life (which I sometimes doubt is really my dream) of writing and filming as a lifestyle.

Maybe I'm not good enough to make it as a writer. Maybe my vision with film is nothing special. It occurs to me that if I wake up and I'm 50 years old, broke and tired and still "chasing after my dreams" that ambition will have been my curse. And so will my dreams. So maybe the title of this post should be "Ambition and dreams are the curse of the talentless."

Ambition and dreams can propel people to success. But can they also hold people down?

2+2=5

2007-05-15T11:23:00.000-05:00

Things about me I can't reconcile (another bi-product of losing out on a quest of love):

1. I like who I have become, on the inside...for the most part.
2. I've always considered myself "average" looking - I'm just okay with it (don't I have to be?!).
3. Three of the last four girls I pursued chose other men over me.
3a. If I was them I would have too.

REMEMBER THE ALAMO

2007-05-13T17:07:00.000-05:00

I haven't been posting as much as normal because I'm working on a business venture that I hope will bring in some cash so I can continue writing some more.

I'm in a bit of a funk today. A girl I had a crush on informed me this morning that she hooked up with some guy last night and they were going on a date tonight. She knows how I feel about her but I don't think she is attracted to me in any way outside of friendship (obviously!). So it goes. I knew that the odds of us ever trying to date was extremely slim but I still hoped. I suppose if there is any good to come from this it's that I can move forward now with certainty. Still, it hurts. But it isn't the first time I've had a pain in the heart and it won't be the last.

I try to remember all the people I've met through volunteering that have such huge obstacles to overcome in their lives and how puny my little "problem" is. That always helps put things in perspective. It also makes me feel foolish for being so depressed over a woman not liking me. The other thing I need to remind myself is that I can't MAKE someone like me. I can't FORCE myself to be attractive to someone. It's too bad though! I wish I had a little love potion I could spill into a drink and remedy my loneliness. Maybe that's the business venture I should look into...how much money do you think I could make if I could create a love potion?

Okay, I'm done with my self pity...for the day at least. Tomorrow is a new day...

A GREAT FRIEND, NOTHING MORE

2007-05-10T19:14:00.000-05:00

Apparently I make a great friend. Over the years I have had a half-dozen women ask me to be their husband...IF...they are still single at the age of 35 or 40. FYI - three of these cases are still pending.

At first I took this as a compliment. That somehow they were saying I was worthy of marrying if they couldn't find the "perfect" man. And of course no one is perfect so... But now I consider this an insult. Am I boring? Am I ugly? Am I not sexy? What is it? Why do I make a good friend but nothing more...unless they're desperate and have run out of options before the ol' biological clock stops ticking.

The kicker to all this is that as much as it angers me to think about this, I agree with it. Yes, that's right, I agree. I don't blame them in the least. I would look for someone more exciting, taller, richer, funnier, smarter etc. I would. I can't blame them for that. Half the time when I meet someone who I really like (maybe even love) I feel like my being with them is a disservice because they deserve better. It sucks to feel that way. Some people say it's a commitment issue. I don't agree. To me, it's more of an issue of true, heart-breaking love. A love so desired that even you aren't good enough for the person. Of course, this isn't healthy. But I don't think there is a fix to this except for just moving past it and realizing that the choice is theirs, not mine.

Anyhow, back to the point of the post. Why are so many women willing to make me their second choice and "best option for a last resort." Should I NOT be offended by this?

Ah, fuck it. I'm not sure it matters anymore. I've given up on love...at least until the next cute girl smiles at me. What a shitty cycle.

ART OF THE DAY

2007-05-08T18:13:00.001-05:00

I took this photo while walking around the city one evening. It was midnight and I couldn't sleep so I grabbed my camera and walked around. I love how it came out - the sky was a weird color that night. The funny thing from the evening is that I had to walk through the projects to get to the park and I got cat-called by a group of female teenagers. And as pathetic as it sounds, yes, my confidence rose. And yes, it's even MORE pathetic writing that sentence!

NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR THIS CRUMMY WORLD

2007-05-08T18:02:00.000-05:00

First off, I want to apologize for the delay in posts lately...for all two of you who read this blog. :-)

I have been struggling lately in my quest to figure out my next move in life: Do I go back to work for "the man?" Do I try my hand at my own venture? Do I continue writing screenplays although I have doubts in my abilities? These questions have been keeping me up at night and I think I finally settled on trying my own venture, which if it works, will allow me to keep writing and filming a project this summer. Fingers crossed!

I have come to the conclusion however that my disposition in life is not what I would like it to be. The truth is, I will NEVER be satisfied with my life or myself. I'm always looking to "improve" and that is a never-ending process. I'm not sure I will ever allow myself to be "happy." It's too bad, because I have a deep understanding for all the beauty we have been blessed with in this life...which is probably why I have this disposition...I feel a need to give back every ounce I can in recognition of the life I have been granted...and in no way will anything I ever do be good enough.