No one has really written in their blogs for a while. I thought I'd pick up the slack. Maybe spark something.
For the past week or so I've been swept away late at night by the beautiful melody of my favorite song. I've listened to it way too much. It just feels like it completes me. It's romantic, bitter, nervous, and brutally honest. Not just the lyrics, but the melody. It's amazing to me how music can do that. Some songs catch you perfectly in the moods your in, or maybe a situation. They make it more intense. More real. More raw. This song is more for me though, no matter what mood, what situation, it sweeps me off my feet and drop kicks my heart. I'd rather not disclose what song, I like thinking it's personal. It's unknown and only exists for me. I believe it is.
I want to have a torrid love affair. I want unbridled passion. I want to dive headfirst into something intense with the foreknowledge that it'll will end badly. I want my heart to swell till it bursts. I want it to shatter into billions of pieces. I want a white hot pain to shoot through my body. I want to ache. I want to beg for sleep to overtake my crying. I want to lose all the faith I have in love. I want anguish, depression, and scarring. I want to hit rock bottom and then........
and then I want to find the strength to begin anew.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
That moment
Sluggishly you fall into bed. You barely have the strength to peel your clothes off. You find yourself nestled in a heaven of sheets, pillows, and a slightly worn mattress. Sleep overtakes you, almost instantly. There is a moment though, however brief, that you're lost. Your mind hasn't completely shut off. It's raw, it's honest, it's beautiful, it's naked, your walls are down. In this moment many things can happen depending on whatever you're feeling that day. It acts like a catalyst for your subconscious to conjure up the most beautiful and the most fearful of dreams. Your subconscious latches on to this vulnerable moment and it just creates whatever the hell it wants. You can't protect yourself. There is no wall big enough to save you from yourself. You are forced to look at yourself. Sometimes it's pleasant, sometimes it's unbearable. That's life.....
I'm just praying to God that someday soon I can find you and make you that moment.....
I'm just praying to God that someday soon I can find you and make you that moment.....
Monday, January 18, 2010
Just a thought
The blood in my veins is the same as yours.....red is red.... So why does the shell that's covering it seperate us? Gender, Sexual Orientation, Color of Skin, Faith, Culture, Politics, and Geographical Location.... it's all relative when it comes to red. I love you regardless of it all and that's from the heart. - Jason Clark
Saturday, January 16, 2010
10 things that got me through the week
It's late and I'm stuck here thinking. Wow, what a surprise. In an effort to not have this turn out to be depressing or some deep self reflection about myself I'm going to try to keep it chipper. So here it is, a list of things I've enjoyed this week.
1. Walking off campus to my car in the cold afternoon winter air I saw a group of kids huddled around talking in the parking lot. I decided to walk as close as them as possible without making it look obvious. The reason for this...... they were smoking. I have a weird relationship with cigarette smoke. In small doses (especially in cold air), it is uplifting in some weird way. Almost like how home baked cookies are. In large doses however, it gives me a headache and i get sick of it. There is also something about it that makes me feel intellectual around it. Between the aroma of coffee, old books, and secondhand smoke..... I'd be in an intellectual coma.
2. I love how even on the most awful days how something as stupid as finding a great parking spot can lift the spirits a little. It's like the universe is opening up it's dark chasms to let you know that even through all the shit, sometimes good things happen.
3. I absolutely love when I'm singing loud and obnoxiously in my car. Why do I love this, there are moments when my voice sounds really rustic and throaty and it makes me feel masculine. Stupid I know, but sometimes men have to reassure themselves of their masculinity. Just having a penis isn't enough. Such reassurances come in a variety of forms. This is a list but is not limited to only them: getting together with a bunch of other men and talking about doing something stupid (No, this does not mean we do something stupid, just discuss it. Ex: Lets drive to Vegas and gamble so we can win lots of money. Granted some people do this..... but it's not necessary), using a swear word as many times in a sentence as possible (this means the word becomes a noun, verb, adverb, adjective, and sometimes even pronouns), watching a sporting event and yelling loudly either at the stadium or just at your tv (the yelling doesn't accomplish anything but the fact that your opinion is right and you want everyone around you to know it does. yell away my friends), watching a masculine movie (I.E. alot of stuff blows up, there are hot girls, sports movie, or a crude comedy. The more of these within one movie the better), and finally, breaking/burning/smashing/killing something (pretty self explanitory).
1. Walking off campus to my car in the cold afternoon winter air I saw a group of kids huddled around talking in the parking lot. I decided to walk as close as them as possible without making it look obvious. The reason for this...... they were smoking. I have a weird relationship with cigarette smoke. In small doses (especially in cold air), it is uplifting in some weird way. Almost like how home baked cookies are. In large doses however, it gives me a headache and i get sick of it. There is also something about it that makes me feel intellectual around it. Between the aroma of coffee, old books, and secondhand smoke..... I'd be in an intellectual coma.
2. I love how even on the most awful days how something as stupid as finding a great parking spot can lift the spirits a little. It's like the universe is opening up it's dark chasms to let you know that even through all the shit, sometimes good things happen.
3. I absolutely love when I'm singing loud and obnoxiously in my car. Why do I love this, there are moments when my voice sounds really rustic and throaty and it makes me feel masculine. Stupid I know, but sometimes men have to reassure themselves of their masculinity. Just having a penis isn't enough. Such reassurances come in a variety of forms. This is a list but is not limited to only them: getting together with a bunch of other men and talking about doing something stupid (No, this does not mean we do something stupid, just discuss it. Ex: Lets drive to Vegas and gamble so we can win lots of money. Granted some people do this..... but it's not necessary), using a swear word as many times in a sentence as possible (this means the word becomes a noun, verb, adverb, adjective, and sometimes even pronouns), watching a sporting event and yelling loudly either at the stadium or just at your tv (the yelling doesn't accomplish anything but the fact that your opinion is right and you want everyone around you to know it does. yell away my friends), watching a masculine movie (I.E. alot of stuff blows up, there are hot girls, sports movie, or a crude comedy. The more of these within one movie the better), and finally, breaking/burning/smashing/killing something (pretty self explanitory).
4. This is a slight change of pace but hang out with the elementary school kids. Seriously, those little runts are to die for. Sure they are germ invested, slightly annoying, and moody, but seriously, I love their guts.
5. Cussing over xbox live. If you haven't done it.....you don't understand. If you have..... well you know what i'm talking about and don't need any other explanation.
6. A crutch. Mine was soda and a chick flick. Gay, I know but screw you. Everyone has one. It's that something in your life that you can always rely on when everything else sucks. It could be a person but even they fall through. No these crutches are objects. It's like smoking when you're stressed. Could be a movie, song, food, or activity. They are necessary to get through the week sometimes.....You gotta do what you gotta do to survive.
7. A warm shower. They fix everything. I dunno what it is but it does.
5. Cussing over xbox live. If you haven't done it.....you don't understand. If you have..... well you know what i'm talking about and don't need any other explanation.
6. A crutch. Mine was soda and a chick flick. Gay, I know but screw you. Everyone has one. It's that something in your life that you can always rely on when everything else sucks. It could be a person but even they fall through. No these crutches are objects. It's like smoking when you're stressed. Could be a movie, song, food, or activity. They are necessary to get through the week sometimes.....You gotta do what you gotta do to survive.
7. A warm shower. They fix everything. I dunno what it is but it does.
8. Helping someone else. I'm an ass....Okay not really but I pretend. Normally, I keep to myself but I still try to be decent to everyone else. Not going to lie, holding the door open for a girl at school and getting that shy thank you smile back.... is a pretty damn good feeling. So thank you to the girl who smiled when I held hte door for her. You probably will never know it, but you saved a little piece of my soul.
9. For a few mooments driving to school one day, i had a flashback to iowa. I think it was the snow on the ground and the dead brown color of the plants around UVU that made me think about it. Normally, Iowa is pretty hard for me..... but this time, for what ever reason, I felt stronger because of it. I've been kinda down this week, dunno why, but knowing i got through Iowa in someway or another..... well it gives me hope in myself.
10. Lastly, a small self pep talk. I can't tell you what I said but it helped. Give yourself a break and do it. Just a small.... "i think i can, i think i can" pep talk.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Time...
I've noticed through out all my blog reading that everyone seems to have their own expression with how they write. I know that's a pretty obvious statement since everyone has their own personality. It's rather intimidating. Everyone does such a good job of stringing together their thoughts, making the whole thing both poetic and coherent. My enteries never turn out as such. They are like a cluttered diary. It feels forced like i'm trying to prove something with my writing. I guess I'm like the bad authors I've come to hate for their forcing of specific details, down to the elaborate and oh so fake, story line. Oh well.
Christmas came and went. It never seems to meet the hype that it gets. Perhaps that's must for me though. I think what kills me is my utter lack of truly being able to hold myself back from getting attached. I'm so caught up in trying to make all these memories last that I spend more time being depressed that nothigns the same instead of enjoying the precious feeling moments.
This is what I've discovered about myself. I'm a horrible flake and if you asked anyone they would agree. I bail on the simplest and least stressful things, as well as, the things that seem to matter most. You may ask why I continue to do so even though I recognize this flaw. The answer is quiet blatently that I can't help it. It's a horrible defense mechanism that I've some how built in to myself. I'm terrified of getting attached and having everything go to shit. I think for normal people this isn't such a fault, they just turn into an asshole and never let anyone get close. However, for whatever brilliant combination of God, genetics, nature, and my environment, I get attached to easily and so fast that being hurt is enevitable. I literally get sad over running into a complete stranger and never being able to see that person again. Pathetic.
On top of all this, I have some inner struggle between hating the universe and loving everything about it. This makes it completely impossible for me to be anything but briefly happy. I live a tortured cycle of A) being depressed because nothing stays the same and everything changes, B) I recognize A and try to avoid it, C) fail miserably at B and end back at A.
Thus, the only control I feel have over myself and of time is to flake or try to hold myself back. I realize the irony of this because it costs me alot of fun experiences. What's more painful in the grand scheme of things though? When we look back in reflection of our lives, we remember either our happy moments or our sad moments. Both of these are usually painful. Either because we can't change what made us sad or because we no longer can experience our happy ones (we can't relive them). Rarely, do we ever remember the nights spent sitting alone in our rooms playing xbox. So now I've convinced myself the only true way of not being miserable in the future is to not do anything in the present. It'll backfire.
So, this, like most of my problems all comes about because of one thing. I think too much. It's great because it saves me alot of hassel but at the same time it continuely effs me over so hard I feel like I've just taken two different showers in prison. My poor ass.
Christmas came and went. It never seems to meet the hype that it gets. Perhaps that's must for me though. I think what kills me is my utter lack of truly being able to hold myself back from getting attached. I'm so caught up in trying to make all these memories last that I spend more time being depressed that nothigns the same instead of enjoying the precious feeling moments.
This is what I've discovered about myself. I'm a horrible flake and if you asked anyone they would agree. I bail on the simplest and least stressful things, as well as, the things that seem to matter most. You may ask why I continue to do so even though I recognize this flaw. The answer is quiet blatently that I can't help it. It's a horrible defense mechanism that I've some how built in to myself. I'm terrified of getting attached and having everything go to shit. I think for normal people this isn't such a fault, they just turn into an asshole and never let anyone get close. However, for whatever brilliant combination of God, genetics, nature, and my environment, I get attached to easily and so fast that being hurt is enevitable. I literally get sad over running into a complete stranger and never being able to see that person again. Pathetic.
On top of all this, I have some inner struggle between hating the universe and loving everything about it. This makes it completely impossible for me to be anything but briefly happy. I live a tortured cycle of A) being depressed because nothing stays the same and everything changes, B) I recognize A and try to avoid it, C) fail miserably at B and end back at A.
Thus, the only control I feel have over myself and of time is to flake or try to hold myself back. I realize the irony of this because it costs me alot of fun experiences. What's more painful in the grand scheme of things though? When we look back in reflection of our lives, we remember either our happy moments or our sad moments. Both of these are usually painful. Either because we can't change what made us sad or because we no longer can experience our happy ones (we can't relive them). Rarely, do we ever remember the nights spent sitting alone in our rooms playing xbox. So now I've convinced myself the only true way of not being miserable in the future is to not do anything in the present. It'll backfire.
So, this, like most of my problems all comes about because of one thing. I think too much. It's great because it saves me alot of hassel but at the same time it continuely effs me over so hard I feel like I've just taken two different showers in prison. My poor ass.
I guess this just makes it all the more obvious to recognize that life is fleeting, beautiful, and utterly tragic. That is why we connect with art that reminds us of ourselves. We hope that in some small way that our memories and tragic existence last in some small way. Whether it's a book, a song, a movie, a painting, or a picture, or any medium of art. Hell, that's why we blog.
So, what do I learn from all this after writing it down in a brief entry that doesn't possibly touch the inner turmoil and effed up life I think I live? That I seriously want to have some significance in life. I want the fact that I used to race Big Wheels around my neighborhood with my next year neighbor to matter. I want the morning I woke up to find my dog Sunny died to make a mark somewhere. I want the lunch that I spent reading Cold Sassy Tree alone on the football stadium bleachers to be a defining event in the vast infinity of time..... to sum it all up
Time: Isn't it a Bitch?
So, what do I learn from all this after writing it down in a brief entry that doesn't possibly touch the inner turmoil and effed up life I think I live? That I seriously want to have some significance in life. I want the fact that I used to race Big Wheels around my neighborhood with my next year neighbor to matter. I want the morning I woke up to find my dog Sunny died to make a mark somewhere. I want the lunch that I spent reading Cold Sassy Tree alone on the football stadium bleachers to be a defining event in the vast infinity of time..... to sum it all up
Time: Isn't it a Bitch?
Monday, December 21, 2009
My inferno
Ugh. 2:11 on a Monday morning. I'm caught staring out the frosted window out to the street. The streetlights reflect off the snow and the moon is hidden by thick clouds. There is a chill in the air, and it taktes me back to places I don't want to go...
Three years ago, almost to the day, I stood staring out the same window. Snow was falling then. It covered everything in soft white blankets. I spent the night writing about how it made me felt. It wasn't honest though, it was more of just a motivation for what was to come. I was going to be shipped out to Iowa. I was terrified. I still am terrified.
Three years ago, almost to the day, I stood staring out the same window. Snow was falling then. It covered everything in soft white blankets. I spent the night writing about how it made me felt. It wasn't honest though, it was more of just a motivation for what was to come. I was going to be shipped out to Iowa. I was terrified. I still am terrified.
I remember the morning I was to enter the MTC. I hadn't slept at all that night. My beautiful friend Cortni had spent the whole night up with me, texting me. She was amazing. I miss her. That morning, I was wide awake and scared shitless. I joked with my mother about letting me stay home. I was begging her inside to let me. That's where it all started. I tried to be too strong and do somethign I wasn't ready for.
3 years later, i'm slowly recovering. It's painful. My courage, my strength, my whimsy, they are all like shattered windows, clumsly put back together with some an awful glue job. I get bye though. I just keep breathing. I'd like to say that the effect has worn off and that somehow I am normal again. I am for the most part. I have horrible weak moments though. The terrified feelings i felt that cold December morning leak back into th eback of my mind. It's crippling when it happens. I have to start all over again after each episode.
So what do i have to say about it now, 3 years later, at 2 am, on a cold December morning? Absolutely nothing. I feel like I am still as lost as I have ever been. The days have progressed, i'm further done with my schooling but I have no direction. It terrifies me. My friends are all getting married and having kids......I don't even have a girlfriend....I haven't had a girlfriend in years.
Honestly, to be perfectly frank, I don't think I could handle one either. I'm so scared I'd mess up. I'm scared of messing up again because I never want to go through another Iowa situation ever again. I don't want to fall in love and have all that pressure and not know what the hell i'm going to do. Falling in love shouldn't be like that, it should be easy. The easiest thing in the world, I'm scared that in my position with my history it'll just become work.
3 years later, i'm slowly recovering. It's painful. My courage, my strength, my whimsy, they are all like shattered windows, clumsly put back together with some an awful glue job. I get bye though. I just keep breathing. I'd like to say that the effect has worn off and that somehow I am normal again. I am for the most part. I have horrible weak moments though. The terrified feelings i felt that cold December morning leak back into th eback of my mind. It's crippling when it happens. I have to start all over again after each episode.
So what do i have to say about it now, 3 years later, at 2 am, on a cold December morning? Absolutely nothing. I feel like I am still as lost as I have ever been. The days have progressed, i'm further done with my schooling but I have no direction. It terrifies me. My friends are all getting married and having kids......I don't even have a girlfriend....I haven't had a girlfriend in years.
Honestly, to be perfectly frank, I don't think I could handle one either. I'm so scared I'd mess up. I'm scared of messing up again because I never want to go through another Iowa situation ever again. I don't want to fall in love and have all that pressure and not know what the hell i'm going to do. Falling in love shouldn't be like that, it should be easy. The easiest thing in the world, I'm scared that in my position with my history it'll just become work.
How the hell is everyone else ready to get married and i'm scared to even say the word. i want to get married, more than any of them i think. I want that, I want kids. I look at my friends daughter, Amanda....she's beautiful. She's adorable. I want that. I'm just too scared to take the shot.
I'm not ready.
Not being ready is almost as terrifying as being ready....
Can I go to sleep now please? Could I please just go back to that night 3 years ago and lay softly in the think white blankets of snow? Maybe never take the leap.....
Hindsight is always 20/20 though. 3 years ago i tripped and fell on my own blade. I wish God had finished the job then and there..... Cause the healing process hurts.
It hurts.
"Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence for my old father, nor due affliction which joyous should have made Penolope, could overcome within me the desre I had to be experienced of the world, and of the vice, and of the virtue of mankind...." - Dante's Inferno
I'm not ready.
Not being ready is almost as terrifying as being ready....
Can I go to sleep now please? Could I please just go back to that night 3 years ago and lay softly in the think white blankets of snow? Maybe never take the leap.....
Hindsight is always 20/20 though. 3 years ago i tripped and fell on my own blade. I wish God had finished the job then and there..... Cause the healing process hurts.
It hurts.
"Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence for my old father, nor due affliction which joyous should have made Penolope, could overcome within me the desre I had to be experienced of the world, and of the vice, and of the virtue of mankind...." - Dante's Inferno
Monday, November 16, 2009
Smoking
I really want to to smoke..... I'm not entirely sure why but lately I have had an overwhelming desire to buy a pack of cigs and let loose. I realize that it's a slippery slope from there so I doubt I'd have the guts to play with someone that is addictive. Still though. I want to. maybe it's the smell of second hand smoke lingering like a warm embrace on the cold air. It hangs lazily for minutes before fading. Lung cancer certainly doesn't seem cool but the smell of a cig on a chilly autumn afternoon and the smell of coffee is enough to cause me to melt....
I find myself contemplating whether or not I am happy these days. I went to an acoustic concert Friday night and the people there really made me wish I could act differently than I do. I want tatoos. I want to pierce my bottom lip. I want to wear skinny jeans and old sweaters. I want my jet black hair to fall in my face. I want to sit in little cafe's with a cup of coffee reading existentialist philosophies....... I want to hook up with some girl with long scene kid hair. Skinny jeans and snake bytes piercings.
So what stops us from doing what would make us happy? Society, Religion, Family, Peers.......Guilt?
Sigh.
I find myself contemplating whether or not I am happy these days. I went to an acoustic concert Friday night and the people there really made me wish I could act differently than I do. I want tatoos. I want to pierce my bottom lip. I want to wear skinny jeans and old sweaters. I want my jet black hair to fall in my face. I want to sit in little cafe's with a cup of coffee reading existentialist philosophies....... I want to hook up with some girl with long scene kid hair. Skinny jeans and snake bytes piercings.
So what stops us from doing what would make us happy? Society, Religion, Family, Peers.......Guilt?
Sigh.
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