Wasting time

Leaving old dreams and goals behind and embracing change has been so very strange. There are times when I feel as though I am simply letting time pass by and I don't know what I am waiting for. I don't know exactly where I want to go. I am happy enough, but lack something essential for the first time. The doldrums, this stagnation is oppressive and relentless. I have to invent small goals to give myself purpose and motivation. I suppose we just invent bigger and bigger goals and give ourselves bigger and bigger purpose and motivation. Should I chase after money and success in a career? Should I chase after women and hedonistic pleasure? Should I run after art and culture or education or activism? I don't think any of these lesser motivations are the right ones, at least not for me. I simply want to find someone to share this life of discovery and adventure, while providing sustaining mutual emotional support. As basic as that sounds, I can't imagine anything else fulfilling me as much as that could. All other activities and motivations seem to shrink away in comparison to a simple love, even when compared to the most altruistic of endeavours. Is our need for love just selfishness in disguise? When you are completely giving of your time and resources, are you a better human than someone who finds true love and learns to live everyday with that same care? I think we need love because it roots our wild, unchecked and sometimes destructive emotions in how they will effect others. When we truly think of each other first, before ourselves, then we are improving. Love shows us and reminds us all how to do that. If we all could stay in that mindset, we could advance and make real change by simply being an example of love and living for each other, in every moment. So maybe I do know where I want to go, but I must be patient. And what then, if I get what I desire? I believe I should strive to live simply, embrace whatever joy I might be lucky enough to be a part of and seek to be giving of my time and resources.

Touch me I'm sick

I think I'm getting a bit of a cold. The grip tape has been adhered to the back of my throat. My energy level has plummeted. I guess that's alright though, it has to happen from time to time. Suddenly I can't concentrate and I'm simply looking forward to resting...doesn't that sound nice. I'm probably infecting everyone around me with my sickly germs too. It's amazing how fast these little nasties can reduce a full grown adult to a sniveling and helpless child curled up on the couch and desperate for somebody to make them some chicken noodle soup and watch over them as they take a nap. Doesn't that sound nice. I think it's making me more ill just knowing that no such remedy is in my foreseeable future. No, as a man with a cold, you simply suffer and try to ward off the symptoms by any means possible. You go to work, you try to ignore the tell tale signs of your weakness. You attempt to not compromise your schedule for the cold and all the while prolong the experience by ignoring your body's very real need to rest and recover. Yes! We are advanced human race! Science and reason be damned, I've got work to accomplish. Places to be, people to zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Why can't I listen my own advice? I know I should go home and sleep the rest of this day away. Maybe I will. I need some fresh air. A walk and then I'll decide. Ooohh, I should get some Nyquil, that's always fun. Or maybe not, that stuff is too damn addicting. Maybe it's all in my head and I'm really just bored. It is time for something new to happen.

Time off for redirection

I took some time to survey this new place where I've arrived. A break from the wandering thoughts and endless pathways of my myriad of existential bullshit. I have this firm new ground to walk upon and wanted to study it and let it direct me. I am here in this new day and looking forward to whatever is next. Today is just fine. I recently discovered how very angry and fearful I have grown toward my romantic endeavors over the past few months and years. I am not alone in being hurt, but it's difficult for any of us to see past our personal suffering and not feel sorry for ourselves. Much of my mind was consumed with this pain. I know I've caused others to feel this kind of pain as well. How to reconcile? Who to be? First I caused the pain for my ex-wife through my own selfish immature attitude toward our relationship, and I believe we both suffered and caused each other much unearned suffering. Coldness and death. A slow breaking heart over many years. A vow. A vow to never take the blessing of love for granted. It seems my next real relationship was the polar opposite. So warm, so close. At first this was the closest to heaven I remember feeling, but once my soul warmed up it began to sweat. I felt the smothering and asked for some room. I was still dedicated to her completely. Unfortunately she misunderstood my intentions and did some very bad things, my heart broke with a snap. I had been treated very poorly and was thrown into chaos, a train wreck. Part of me was happy to be able to breath again, but my love was dead again and I was cut to the bone. Then I happened upon something different altogether. From left field, a woman walked into my world that brought a kind of peace and calm that I had never heard of. Suddenly I was moving toward higher ground and thankful for every moment. I let my guard down, though she did not, and I fell happily alone. My very own martyrdom in the name of love. Then, as subtly as she came, she made her exit. With all of my spirit, I was empty. Detached. Depression. The long cold and dark night had come. Mistakes. Alcohol. Destruction. Pointlessness. Insanity. Desperation. Thoughts that would not leave. Pictures in my head at night. Tears. Despair. Everything but my body died. The peak of a season of pain. Then I awake and begin to move toward the light. Must keep going. You don't know what's coming around the bend. I made a few attempts at dating, but I knew I was not in the right place to take anything serious. I decided to begin running again and get healthy, to strengthen my mind and soul on my own terms. I found music again and let it work it's healing on me. Friends came along and filled me with joy and hope. My family pulled close and supported me. I begin to write from the emotion. Learn how to say "I love you", "Thank you" and "Good luck" again. I find God where he's been all along. I am so very thankful to be alive. That I get this chance to be here and experience this life. My feet touch ground for the first time in a long time. More steps toward solid ground. The ground I found on my own. The change is here and I am new once again. Then I found out how very cynical I had grown concerning women. A friend pointed out that all her single friends would tell her how attractive I was, until I start talking, then they were turned around and I realized how quickly I judge women. I label most of them in some category that I have previously been hurt by...and where that may be a seemingly wise method of personal emotional protection, it's not fair and it's not who I want to be. So I know I need to improve in this area. I need to drop the fear and protection. It's time to expose this new heart again so I might share in something wonderful. It's the next leap on the new road.

Love's like suicide

And now to throw my thoughts away. Now to action. Forget the analysis, forget the fortelling. A man here and now. I am.

Time share condo in the sky

What is best in life? Fine thought, attitude, appreciation? Wisdom, heart, hope, health? Peace, joy and love? No! These are only the dressings on that which is most sacred. Our connection with others is what enables these chariots to race. Only through sharing these things with others do we find ourselves living our best life. My one selfish wish is to continue to share all of this. Imagine a day where everyone is an open book, where we can share in the moment and have the fulfillment meant for us all.

Songwriting is like being a pirate!

Creativity is such a mysterious force. Sometimes in my life I just can't stop making shit and writing shit and saying shit. I sit with the guitar for hours and pen a thousand words. I draw or make some strange creation that serves no practical purpose, but seems to add to my experience or balance out the equation. It's sort of like creating tangible proof that...yes, my soul was here! A sort of graffiti from the other side. I suppose our ethereal side is always being trodden on by our day to day activities of mundane existence and I'm certain it's a healthy thing to let it have its way with us. What a tradgedy I see in the majority of people who deny its presence and cap off its healing. It's the very best and serves us so sweetly when we don't put any reins on it. Yes, that's it. The Divine. Art is just life, breathing, coming and going. Our creativity is a crude display of our own beauty at best. The closest we can hope to get to right, is when we just let it flow from us in the way it wishes to. Joy looks and sounds this way. Loss like that. Togetherness writes these words and reproach says this. We can be the windsock for our own emotional cleansing and understanding. To share. And though we inevitably damage it as it passes through us, we should hope to do as little as possible to disturb its need for release. Listen and let it be. Then we are in line. Then we are made strong.

Another go 'round

Back upon the road, where my feet are walking tall. Black rubber on perfect and freshly painted asphalt. Grass growing. Reset. Do over. I am clean and clear. I am starting. The first steps already taken, the direction indicated, life. The last of the snow recedes, the last of the sickness is departed. The trouble understood and forgotten. The ties loosed and given flight. I only expect to keep learning. Love is number one and I stand beside it. 11.