Is It Your Way Or The Highway?

Going to a university does a lot to a person. Lines drawn and promises made in ages past are crossed and broken. It's all about exposure. As new people enter your life with different backgrounds than you and your home bunch, you see sides to things that used to cause gasps, hushed whispers and raised hands over mouths. But now those things don't seem as bad.

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Next Monday marks the end of my 24th year. As every year, I look back to see what I've done and like every year I question what worth I have. What meaning does my existence hold? I know that I'm not living to my full potential and I can accept that. But it stings a little, to see people who have done something with their life - who used their early years to make something happen. I have a very hindering lack of drive. I wasn't pushed into anything as a child. I wasn't taught to do my best. I do what I have to get by. And that's no way to live. I lead a C average life.

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I joke that I started life late, taking time off after high school. Most of the people I graduated high school with have graduated or started families. But here I am, still in school and completely unaware or ready to be out of this phase of life. But honestly, it is unsettling. Perhaps I assume that they are happy or have their heads on straight. But I'm starting to believe that nobody ever truly gets their head on straight.

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I am grateful for this life even if I have a funny way of showing it. But I'm afraid that I'm wasting it. And I'm afraid that in 24 years I'll be ungrateful.

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Did you know that Michael Jordan was playing for the Bulls by my age?

The Art of Making A Good Sequel.

I went for a run today. It's the first one in a long time. Probably since my time at home during Christmas. It may have been longer than that. I find choosing the right music to be the key. I had something in mind, I believe it was Miles Kurosky's album but I ended up going for mewithoutYou as it was what I had listened to last and the song "Every Thought A Thought of You" just felt right.

When I go running I usually go down to the end of Ewing to where the water tower stood up until about two weeks ago. Then I turn left and come back down Bell Street until I meet Crestland. Then I walk up to my house. If I do that twice it's about two miles. Today I only did it once.

My favorite part was when I was chased by a little pepper colored dog. He yapped and I laughed.

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As I sat on my porch, hoping to God that I didn't throw up or pass out, I noticed a cigarette burning in the wet leaves. In the time it took for me to run my course, it took Austin to smoke. I've been thinking more and more that I shouldn't smoke cigarettes anymore. I wouldn't say I'm a smoker by any means as one pack lasts me longer than a month. It's just the occasional one at night as we talk on the porch or after a few drinks. It's a good break from having my nose in a book or after I've been thinking too hard about a song. I used to really like the taste. Maybe that's why I started out with the candy ones. I have two left that have been there for over a month. If I wait long enough, I know that Spencer will steal them. I have come to think that cigarettes aren't nearly as bad as we've all been told. I mean, yeah. They're horrible little sticks of shit but a little poison never killed anyone. And isn't it nice to cause a little destruction once in awhile?

It's a nice fall day but it's nowhere near fall. It just feels like it. It's actually a good day to sit on my porch with a book & a cigarette. But I would hate to sound like a hypocrite.

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It's also a good day to sit in my slightly chilly room and play guitar. I've been working on a handful of songs for a while now. The content is different than my older ones. Well, that's not true. They're all about relationships. I guess they're just different ones. Every chorus isn't just some sad sack wailing about a woman who broke his heart. But some of them are. They're about being lied to and being tired of watching a friend drink their self to death.

But it's that second verse that always gets me. That's where I'm stuck with most of them. Or finding some way to spice them up and make them longer than two minutes.

I've actually thrown the idea around to quit writing songs. It used to be an outlet but now it feels more like a responsibility. I don't know if my heart is in it anymore. That's what happened to my photography. But I don't know what I would take up. I love to write but I feel that it's gotten in my head that it has to be a certain way. I dunno. It's not for me anymore. I miss that. But I don't think I'll ever really stop. Inspiration will come, the wall will crumble and I'll finish something.

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I think that's why sophomore albums seem to slump. Who really has all that much to say? I could take the thirty or so songs I've written and pick out ten that are really good and make an album and be done with it. Go be an investment banker or something.

I'm trying to teach myself some music theory to help out with that. It's gone well so far. I mean, really, who wants to be an investment banker?

I Decided To Never Ride Again.

I've been very selfish lately. I take all of the time I have and throw it out the window. Usually, I'd be the first to defend taking a moment for yourself but it has gotten a little out of hand. I feel bad about that. I believe that it is time for me to do some growing up. I've used the last year and a half to do whatever I wanted. I tried to make it about something bigger but the truth is, I took my freedom - after I accepted it - held it close to my chest, abusing it.

I've been lonely, lonelier than I have ever been. I remember being very upset to leave my girlfriend for Thanksgiving when I was a freshman in high school. I laid awake all night thinking of her and wishing to be with her. I've been lonelier than that though. That memory just always sticks out to me.

I've made an art of numbing myself. I used to write a lot more. Songs, thoughts, blog entries. I've put my brain on autopilot and just gone thru the motions. But really, I've been using my brain a lot. I've read a little more than usual and tried to be more aware of my surroundings. I just don't ever sit down to release some of that knowledge that fills me up. It's draining to hold it in. Everyone needs some kind of release. I guess I've done that in other ways.

Spring break started yesterday evening for me. I have some goals. Tasks to accomplish over the next week. To finish The Sun Also Rises. Finish writing some songs that I've been working on for too long now and, Lord willing, record at least some part of them.

But I suppose that I became selfish for selfless reasons. I was in a much different place when I wrote the first entry in my journal (dated January 22, 2007), although I cannot recall the situation that caused me to write it. Regardless, it has stuck with me and is as follows:

"I can't keep my plants alive. How can I keep a relationship alive?"

Maybe some people aren't meant to be with another - not for lack of want but because they simply don't have a knack for it. At least I know how to start a fire.

Ironically, that plant is still alive...barely.

The Megaphone Factor.

Originally written 2/4/10 at 12:33pm. (On that day, it wasn't deemed complete but it works alright now. Even though it is a little late.)

I don't usually get too topical on here but I feel that this holds merit.

Last semester a preacher from a group called Pinpoint Evangelism came to my university, Middle Tennessee State, and stood out among the common path and gave his message. His message was one of judgement and God's anger toward us. I missed his initial visit but a lot of media surrounded it as a student assaulted him or something like that. If you care to learn more then google any combination of: 'crazy preacher' 'mtsu' and 'assault.'

But I write this because someone from that group is on campus today. I'm not sure if it's the same guy but it very well could be and probably is. I've heard a lot of his coming by way of Christian organizations on campus getting together to organize a plan to help spread the Truth of God's love.

So I finished my Abnormal Psychology test and walked outside to see a large crowd and decided to head that way. After all, I could use a cup of coffee and saw students laughing and mocking as other students and college pastors walked around saying things like, "Please read the Bible" and handing out leaflets with verses of scripture that speak of God and Jesus' love.

It is sad that many of those students have a perception of Christ that is like what this man says. That He hates His creation and especially gays and liberals. I question what good will come of it and if this group believes that they are doing good by scaring people to the Lord. I wonder if that will happen even once today. And is that even worth it if by doing so you anger a multitude of others and tarnish the name of the one you speak for?

Nothing Seems As Bright.

Today I chose to spend my day by waking up at noon, completely unaware of what was happening in the world at that moment. As if I could foresee that those moments would be better spent in my own head than in whatever true events filled reality. And I believe that that arrogance is quite prevalent in our world today - rightfully so since there's nothing better than seeing what your own brain is capable of. And isn't it nice that we are then granted the privilege of that capability? To then use our brains to paint how we believe those true events occurred?Hmm. It is nice. So then, based on my very own perception of the world and how it operates, I determine precisely how my town looked when the first of billions and billions of snowflakes fell to cover the ground. And how your face would look if you woke to this very scene but for that to happen you'd have to be here with me. Because ultimately, isn't that the intention in every thought?
Anyway, back to the original thought:
Today I chose to spend my day by waking up at noon and discover that it had snowed while I was asleep. Actually, to see it on facebook before seeing it with my own eyes. I have a window by my bed. Shouldn't I start each day by popping up like a gopher from his hole to see outside? Before I look at my stuff and the stuff of my people, shouldn't I look outside to see yours? It is much better. Much more beautiful and real. Sure, ours is real but it's a different way. It's numbers; 1s and 0s. You know all, so how could ours even compare to yours? To think that we could reach a potential higher than you. How arrogant.
So again, because I chose to do that, somehow I agreed to follow whatever path that decision would lay before me. For me it was a conscious one to relax today - afterall, when a university shuts down early due to weather you really are given permission to stop. So I took a breather and sat to listen to Iron & Wine. And as my brain turned it spewed this thought all because I chose to sleep in. To think that we have that ability to chose what we do with our day. If I wish to spend an entire day reading a book or watching an entire television series season or hanging around with people, well then I can.
That path included: being nerdy, sitting on my bed and routinely popping up like a gopher from his hole and listening to music while eating fruit as snow fell down outside. I'm okay with that because I enjoy it, even though sometimes I get down about it.
The song "Naked As We Came" started and I had already listened to "Sodom South Georgia" and how I felt then painted a scene of my pursuit for love. Not that I'm looking from the high mast of a ship for land but that in a way I am. I think in the way that everyone does a little. And I've had land so I know what it's like to be looking and see thru all of the fog and jagged rocks to see pure, safe land to put your feet on. And I don't see much land like that around. I think I'm seeing more jagged rocks thru fog than there actually is. But that's because I've seen that land turn jagged; I've felt that sting. But it still looks good and the sun still shines brightly upon it. Nothing seems as bright. "Passing Afternoon" embodies this feeling. It is exactly how I think of this.
So when I say that this is the love that I seek it isn't that I haven't found it once. I'm in part two right now. It fell apart but it was there. And having had it, it's much more difficult to settle when it isn't there. I want someone who I can be lost with, to be amazed by in every moment. But I've had that. And I still think of it very much, perhaps because that was my last big love and I've somehow built it into something more than what it was but I think because it was very big. A lot still ties to that; songs, film and thoughts. I haven't forgotten yet and I still remember. I still don't understand. But I've learned to bury what I don't understand. I never was any good at digging holes.
So then, based on my very own perception of the world and how it operates determines precisely how my town looked when the first of billions and billions of snowflakes fell to cover the ground. And how your face would look if you woke to this very scene but for that to happen you'd have to be here with me. Because ultimately, isn't that the intention in every thought?

Coming Down To Meet You.

So it all feels the same now. I guess that feeling I had a couple weeks ago was just the alcohol. I'm real washed out right now. I felt good about things. I went to Passion and I remembered a little about what God looked like and I learned a little more. I'm past that moment of gladness and back to selfishness. Time doesn't change a thing, it's all up to me and well maybe I just ain't ready. It's a sad place to be. I see that greener grass but I'm still eating the brown.

I've been lonely a bit. I've had some fun with friends that I've missed but it's not really the same. I miss the people who understand me. There's one that I really miss but we can't really talk anymore. Yeah, I miss her a lot but I don't think that's my fault. I think that's just how it goes sometime and it's a real shame but it's not my fault. And I've been wondering if I'll find that again cos it's been awhile and I'd have to say it's rare. Oh well, maybe it's for the best.

I shaved my head the other day and messed up and so now I got a big piece missing on the side and I've been wearing a hat everyday til that piece grows back. It's pretty funny but I look like schmuck. That's how I feel. Like I got a bad hair cut riding on my head and I do. Eventually the internal mess becomes external. Oh well, it's cold so I got an excuse for the hat. I'm just tired of feeling like a ten year old.

I haven't written for awhile and I got a lot in my head right now. And a lot of it doesn't matter but a lot of it is why I'm so down. I got a lot that ain't happening right now and a lot that is is kinda unfortunate. But that's okay cos it'll go away eventually and the sun does rise. That's what Chuck Noland said anyway. I just ain't felt the sun in sometime. That's not true, I just can't remember the warmth.

Sing A Song of Love & Truth.

Breath deeply, creatures of the land for a new year is upon us and it is the time for living!

I don't know about all of you, but I honestly feel a difference than two days ago. Maybe it was screaming at midnight with friends and midnight and all of the laughter and joy that surrounded that house or maybe it was the alcohol. Well, maybe it was both. But regardless, this morning I awoke with a feeling of renewal; of rebirth.

I feel like I'm on my feet again. But really, I think the true matter of the fact is that I finally see that I've been on my feet for awhile - except for me telling myself that I wasn't. Whatever I was mourning is no more. There's no reason to mourn the past because the past is passed and what can you do to that? Absolutely nothing.

It's time to live, my boy! To walk into the street without the hand of your mother and to no longer wait for cars a mile off. But rather to step out with a skip and run til the air in my lungs is emptied and refuses to refill.

I feel like the Whitman brothers in The Darjeeling Limited when they run to catch their train, throwing the luggage they've dragged all over India all over. Because you can't let things weigh you down and keep you from jumping onto trains, for once they leave, they're gone.

I hope for this year to be one filled with joy and happiness and excitement. I'll strive to enjoy what's around me at all times; laugh when I'm hurt and cry when I'm happy because living this life is more than breathing and eating. It's so much more than that.

We'll soon remember if you do

When all things were tall

and our friends were small

and the world was new

- "Silent Sunlight," Cat Stevens

Slap Happy.

Another trip home comes to an end in less than five hours. So why am I awake at 4:28am? Well...for one of the best parties of the year: The St. Martin Brown's St. Stephen's Day Party. I'll leave it up for all of you to look up the meaning behind St. Stephen's Day, but I will tell you why it is so great. Friendship. A bunch of people - most of whom I only see on this night - gather to play games and talk and catch up and laugh together. It feels like one of the few aspects of my life that remains the same while the rest spins and changes. We repeat stories and laugh about years gone by. These are people that I truly love and appreciate. Whose smiles and jokes stick with me for days. People who I've looked to in time of need and discomfort, friends from high school or youth groups. People who have remained as others passed away. They are friends and family. And maybe this is the end of a long day and night talking, but I love those people and I already look forward to next year's St. Stephen's Day.

I hope all of you have had a holiday filled with laughter and joy. That you've experienced the good in life and remember what it feels like to breath because those are the most precious things out there.

Tomorrow I leave home again, and many of the faces that I care for. I hope all of them know what they mean to me and what they've done for me in past years. And I wish them - as well my readers - a great year filled with all of these and more so that next year we come back with more stories and laughter to share.

...One Day.

I have a journal that i write in. I try to do so regularly but sometimes time passes and pages don't move. I'll open it and gasp at how long it's been and shake my head because I have a lot of catching up to do.

This book isn't anything grand. You'd find a lot of entries that scream what these posts merely echo and ideas, plans, that are only hinted at here.

I write about girls. Girls I'd like to sleep with. Or kiss. Or hold hands with. Or at least look into their eyes, but mostly sleep with (which never comes to fruition due to reasons mentioned in previous posts. Exhibit A & B). There are names that come go. Next month I'll have a set of two or three more names and then an entry saying that those feelings have fled from one of the parties. That entry will end with my declaration of independence only to be followed by a name or description of a girl I saw on campus or at a coffee shop. There are only a few who will be remembered. At least two. And in years to come I'll have to scratch my head to remember even their faces.

I ask G-d what He thinks of my life. I question its meaning and whether it will amount to anything. I express fears of wasted time or missed opportunities and injustices done to me by way of my own faults. I complain a lot.

And thru all of this I try to sound like Jack Keroauc. I wrote someone a letter the other day. I would call her "friend" but I'm not sure if she would appreciate me calling her that. But regardless, I wrote her. And in it I slipped into what I imagine Jack sounded like whenever he wrote. Or at least when he wrote Dean Moriarty's lines from On The Road. Bursts of energy and short sentences filled with eccentric inflections where he answered his own questions and wrote whatever hit his brain; thoughts that contradict each other.

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That really bothers me actually. I always try to write a thought but then see the other side. So I wear myself out thinking of every single alternate point or argument that could be presented, as if I expect to say that I've seen it from every angle. Or perhaps I'm just trying to point out which perspectives I have seen to prove that I did actually think about what I'm trying to say. But few people care to read one line that has 10 to every A. As if, "For this to be true, consider A, B, C..." or "I say this having taken these into account." A letter from me is much like an erratic scientist's notes meant only for himself. But nevertheless, I love to write. Ironically, reading isn't my favorite. But I'm trying. I've been buy books and asking for books and trying to read. I see the importance, much like flossing. When I do it, I feel better, my teeth are cleaner, I've learned something. But taking the time to actually get the thread and wrap around my fingers just seems foreign.

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I'm trying a lot of things. I'm trying to write more. I've been deep in the caves of writer's block but have recently poked my head out. I've yawned and grabbed my coffee and my pen is in hand. I'm begin as soon as I'm done with the crossword puzzle or daily sudoku. I'm trying to be healthier so as to not look at myself with disgust each morning. To put myself out and pull the blanket of security off and take risks. I'm trying to live life and find happiness that I deserve but deprive myself of still.

But I've written about these goals for months and complained for even longer. That's what we do. We say, "Oh, if only I had the time" or "One day..." I'm tired of one day. Because one day turns into yesterday and yesterday turns into last week, and then I'm lying here in bed at my parent's home a few days before Christmas wondering where the last few months have gone. My soul is dry and it needs enrichment and I'm determined to find it...

A Diamond & A Tether.

This is a cover of a song by Death Cab For Cutie. Enjoy.

Love Is A Lesson.

Commitment is a big word. Well, it is. I suppose the bigger problem, however, is not an inability to commit but rather the ability to find someone who is worth committing too. I've been in committed relationships before and I understand how that works. That's not to say that it is always easy. But I get it. I see the imperative value that it has within a relationship.

Compatibility. That's a big word. So big that at times I have to take a breath halfway thru saying it. So much stock is put in relationships and I'll admit that I'm frustrated by my lack of involvement. There's all that crap that everyone would think are the parts that I miss: holding hands, kisses...you know. All of that. And I'd be a liar to say that I don't miss those parts - I crave those parts. But you know what I long for? Being able to trust and explain myself to someone. I miss being open and honest.

There's a wall between me and most everyone I know that prevents me from saying a lot of what I really wish I could say. And it never bothered me before because there was an outlet for those things. I feel sort of like a bottle that's been closed up for too long so that all of this pressure is building on the other side of the cork. So my logical fear is that when someone does decide to open it they'll be standing there drenched with their mouth gaping at me.

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Actually, there's a lot of fear in me regarding relationships. I have a fear of the past repeating itself and that pain isn't something I wish to experience again or put another thru. I've wasted time and energy on people - great people - but it never blooms. Age, proximity, Time. All of these have stood in the way. For all I know, if I'd have said hello to the girl in the library who caught my eye then maybe I wouldn't be sitting here writing this. It's those risks...

And I do fear commitment. I feel pretty comfortable in this sad hole I've made for myself. I like doing what I want to do and answering to nobody - even if it is damaging at times. I don't want to spend more time in something that doesn't come to pass. To wake up and find that what I've held onto has vanished.

I fear the risk. I went thru a phase giving and getting numbers. I felt on top of some game. But a lack of fruit kills game and soon the players begin to question whether sports are really for them. After all. I am pretty good at solitaire.

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I don't think love is what I thought it was. I think I had some things wrong and that I still do. And what love is by my standards is something that I don't have in me. It's nothing I can give.

Love isn't something I'll create on a page but sort of a seed we'll nurture and grow together.

- Kevin Wilson.

Take It Back.

I've started this entry about five times. I do that a lot with these entries. I get an idea; something floating around my head for a little while and then I sit down to type and it's not there. Even now I'm thinking of holding down the "delete" key for 30 seconds but I will resist the urge.

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Thanksgiving night, while trying very unsuccessfully to sleep at my aunt's house, I put on the film "Doubt," starring Philip Seymour Hoffman, Meryl Streep, & Amy Adams. It's about a group of nuns who suspect their priest of having an illicit relationship with a student. In one of his sermons he tells a story that I will paraphrase. This old woman confesses to her priest that she has been gossiping. He forgives her but tells her to go home, up to her roof, tear open a pillow with a knife and to then come back to him. She does as he says and goes back. He asks what happened and she says that feathers came out. Then he tells her to pick up all of the feathers but she relies that the wind has taken them and she cannot find them all. He tells her that that is the effect of gossip.

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Well this isn't really about gossip but words in general. I've always believed in saying what I feel. I'd hate to miss out on something by holding my tongue. Part of having successful relationships is communication. But sometimes words don't go over well. I've said things that should have been dropped or avoided or kept to myself. I've said selfish things that did nothing but ruin any chance of a friendship and made me look like an ass - or at least feel like one.

It isn't that I didn't mean what I said but perhaps it just didn't need to be said. But I've had too many mornings where I regret something I've said thru a text message or email and there's no taking it back. And I wonder what they think when they see me. Do they have the same feeling I do? Of course mine is more of an embarrassment and theirs is more of annoyance. I dunno. It's sad to think that someone's opinion of you may be based on a five minute conversation. That isn't enough time to learn about a person - especially if it's comprised mostly of a mistake.

I guess what I mean to say is that I'm trying to keep my mouth shut. To be more deliberate with my words. And I suppose that's all.

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November 29th Post-Edit:

I've talked to a few people about this post and I think an important flip-side observation is that sometimes those risks prove to be worthwhile. After all, if you never said anything then think of what could be missed out on. Opportunity requires risk and vulnerability from time to time. I can think of many instances where I put things on the line and won - maybe for just a minute - but I still won something. And I learned from those experiences. At times I feel cynical due to the losses I've endured but in my honest moments I know that I've learned from them. That I understand life more. Maybe it has caused me to be more cynical but has also made me able to see so clearly when something is good. Stupid, you could call it that.

Looking Across The Fence.

There's so many different websites to join today. I've joined countless of sites that I barely use anymore - iLike and Xanga. And have Last.fm, Myspace, Twitter, Facebook and this now. I was just told about a site called Blip.fm that allows you to DJ over the internet so I'm checking it out. There's so much! I feel networkingly spread thin.

So I'm thinking of leaving this blog and moving to Tumblr. It's not official yet, I'm just trying it out. It better connects all of the various networking mediums that I am a part of. So we'll see how it works.

Follow it at www.alexskidmore.tumblr.com and see the move.

Goin' Back To Rehab.

Today was one of those days that felt productive. Perhaps it had to do with getting up earlier enough to go mail something. It's amazing how making it to the bank or post office before noon gives such an amazing level of accomplishment. I mailed a package. I didn't run a 10k or save someone's life. How ridiculous.

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Or maybe it had to do with the fact that I interviewed Mickey Avalon on my radio show today. Yeah, you heard me correctly. If you don't know who Mickey is, then I'll leave it to you to look him up on the internet. He's got a show this Wednesday in Nashville at 12th & Porter. Needless to say, I am attending and very excited. However, it will be my first hip-hip show so I'm not sure how to act at it. I'm kind of afraid. But somehow, I expect most of his fans to be beautiful women and white kids like me. Maybe I'll find my soulmate. That'd be interesting..."So where'd you meet each other?"

"Well there's this rapper who talks about prostitution, drug use, and all kinds of other immoral things. It was at one of his shows. We were singing along with him and during the line 'Puffin' white lines, sippin' warm Coors Lite,' our eyes meet and the rest is history."

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The interview was a lot of fun. Mickey is a real down to earth guy. He talked a lot more than I did and was really active in it - which always makes an interview easier. He seemed like a great guy and it make me even more excited for the show.

I also ate tons of food and saw Pirate Radio for free. That always makes for a good day.

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School is making more sense. I've thrown the idea of entertainment law around my head but we'll see about that. My major has come together a bit more and it looks I can actually be out of here next May! That's both exciting and scary as after that I have to be a grown up. It probably means moving again and starting over in many senses. In thought, that sounds okay but I know that it's difficult to do. I'm only started to feel comfortable here last Fall. That actually sounds like a long time ago but it was after having been here for a year. But now that I have friends, it feels weird to think that I may not be here in two years; that I may never see some of the people who have been here for this part of my life.

People always say how college is the prime time. It's difficult for me to see that. Maybe because I started late or never took full advantage of the opportunities that are before me. Probably the latter. I feel like I have yet to really find an adventure worth taking. I've had a couple, I suppose. But it doesn't just drop in your lap. I see that now. I think I need to go.

I Left My Burdens In Grayson, Kentucky.

I've been gone for the past weekends. Traveling to Arkansas for a friend's wedding and then home, to West Virginia. Both have proved to be needed breaks from the day to day routine that I've gotten into. Especially being home. Typically being home is great for a few days and then I'm more than ready to head back to Tennessee. But not this time. I guess I had a lot on my mind and a few things I've been struggling with. Thoughts and decisions. And I made a few of those decisions while at home and I must admit that I'm very happy with each one. I feel like I've narrowed down my plans for after I graduate - at least what sounds like a good idea at the moment. Once the decision is set in stone I'm sure it'll be made known. But for now, I'll keep it close.

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Relationships are interesting. I've dealt with quite a few of those in recent days. Old friends and old flames and forgotten names. There comes a point where you have to weigh some and see if it's worth the work. It's funny how ones I'd almost forgotten about have consumed my thoughts lately and how, on the other hand, ones I never thought would fade mean nothing to me. Some paths just aren't as appealing anymore and others have a familiar warmth.

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Sometimes I feel alone here. I mean, I'm not. But I guess I am. There are people I care about and who care about me. But when push comes to shove you realize who comes to mind and who doesn't. I'm not saying that none of these people mean anything to me. Just that I don't feel respected. Or...maybe it's not respect. But I don't feel cherished. I probably don't cross their minds too much when I fade away into myself. I guess that's okay.

Being home reminded me of the people who I do feel that for and from. I got coffee with a group of friends who really do mean the world to me. I drove around with one like a married couple. And I started a fire with another. I missed a few as I was only in town for a couple days and life gets in the way of life sometimes. But I was reminded that no matter how long I'm away and how far I go, there are people there that I truly can't imagine losing. And I learned that I haven't changed quite as much as I thought I had.

I Have Not Forgotten Them.

I have assignments due and responsibilities knocking at my door over and over again. But I just turn up the music and let the beats blend in with the music regardless of how out of sync it all is. That's what I'm doing right now. I just want to write and not deal with these things. My thoughts are on you, actually. This happens frequently. The "you" is usually a different person but lately it's all been this one. It's driving me insane, quite honestly. Playing games and doing things "the right way." It's just not how I'm designed I suppose. I operate differently than those who are squawking in my ears.

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I used to not care much for The Beatles. I mean, yeah, I respected them for their influence - their huge immeasurable influence on music in general. But I never really saw anything spectacular in them. That is until one night while listening to Abbey Road on vinyl - from the original pressing. It was this one bass line on the song Come Together. As soon as it rolled out everything fell into place and I saw why people talk so much about them. I became one of those people.

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I've started writing a friend back and forth. It's very interesting. At times, I feel that I've spread my writing outlets too thin. I have my journal which gets very personal thoughts. Almost like the beginning of theories. And then the somewhat worked out solutions are sent to my friend. And then I have this which is a very general - almost like a summary of the rest. It's the publication of what stuck to the wall.

I've spilled some stuff to him that very few people have heard. Just part of my heart and deep thoughts. It's very freeing as I know that he doesn't judge. I mean, we all judge things. And he and I disagree on many things but we still come to the table openly. It's been very nice.

And typically, when I open up to someone I want answers to internal questions that they don't have. I wrote a few pages on one topic and his response was one sentence. But it was perfect. And that's how our notebook goes, back and forth.

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It's very hard to take advice that goes against your gut. I like to go with my gut more than other people's direction. Sometimes they're right, I know. But I'd hate to think that I missed something because I didn't do what I felt was best. With that comes responsibility for failure as well, and not having someone to blame all of those on is rough - because it falls on my shoulders. But I'd rather have that than a disdain for someone who I allowed to lead me into a hole.

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What drives me more insane is wondering if your thoughts are on me like mine are on you. How fitting that "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" is playing right now.

It's Hard To Be A Decent Human Being.

It's been sometime since I've posted, almost a month. I've been busy but not that busy. I felt and still am kind of not facing things. Just keeping things as superficial as possible. I've been floating around for a little while, mostly waiting for school to start. Well school has started and things aren't really different.

But amongst late nights and lazy days with my roommates, I've had some talks and I've seen change in my life. Change in my thoughts and ideals. Convictions that used to be there that are gone. And all of these, I count for better. And I realize that some people won't ever understand what I mean. But these changes have been here for awhile and I've probably hinted at them. I know people have seen them; People from back home who only see me once in awhile can tell a difference. But I don't know that I could honestly and accurately explain them to you. They include, but are not limited to thoughts on: love, religion, God, and how I am to live life.

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I think the title of this post is fitting, considering what the title was of my post before last. I can see the last one being just about life. And in life there are so many things to do; to be.

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I started this post on September 3rd. It's been awhile. But I have had this post in mind the whole time in between. I've been wanting to return to it so many nights and mornings and tonight seems like the right time.

I just got off of the porch I've been on for the last three hours talking to with a dear friend. We've had these talks for sometime now. Each one is more enlightening than the last. I've been questioned and challenged in regard to all of those things listed above. And there's a lot about me that I don't think I ever knew; or that I pushed aside to never deal with. I wish that I knew where to start, where to spill my heart.

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I think people judge too much. Especially christians. It's like they think they're better than everyone or that if you aren't living like them that you just aren't worth their time. But do they forget that we're all worthless? That all of us are that woman by the well? All of us are whores, murderers & thieves. I wish they'd look into themselves and see that they are no better than the people they condemn. I've seen more of the lost with better hearts than the saved and selected.

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Love is a tough game. And I've been on the bench for awhile. And every time I get a chance to get back in the game I screw it up or find myself disinterested. And it boils down to the fact that I don't have it in me. As much as I want to give love, it just isn't there. There's nothing there for me to give you. There are too many risks and open wounds for you to access and I can't let you touch me there. I just don't have time for that game anymore.

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I feel that I'm not a very traditional christian. I think about God a lot. But I don't care much for these rituals of Sunday morning services and weekly gatherings because they all seem too fake. Too....put on. Too marketed. I'm searching for something real - a real connection that no one seems to be offering. I believe in God, not out of fear but out of reverence. I don't think I could convince someone that God exists because it's inherent in me. I can't look at this world and say that He doesn't. And to me not being able to see that is a travesty.

Too much weight is put on some of these acts and how they show the status of your soul. No one can see into another man's soul and to assume that you can is arrogant. And I don't think we're meant to beat our chest and curse ourselves but rather to love God and our fellow man - faults and all.

I think that if you aren't always searching and questioning your beliefs then you're in the clouds. And I wish you'd see that I am searching; that I am questioning. That if I believe, it will be for me. And that this is very important to me. That I am human and, well...

A Few Thoughts On Torture.

Alright, for those of you who follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you saw my updates regarding the topic of torture. I ended the 140 character messages saying that I would write a longer, more in depth response to that which I heard during the seminar revolving around the topic given by Mark Danner. It was part of a series of seminars given over the last couple of days making up Constitution Week.

First, let me go thru my thoughts on the use of torture by our government to obtain information.

I haven't been known to keep up on current affairs and news trends since my senior year of high school in Mr. Poling's political science class. So aside from a few very large events, I've been out of the loop. So I knew that torture was used during the Bush administration and our operations in Iraq. But I had always thought that it was okay due to the fact that it was for the safety of our country. I thought that if that's what it took to get the job done then it should be done. These people do horrible things to us and others so why not do the same to them when necessary*? To me it was an issue of speaking the same language. Think Native Americans and the English settlers: arrows verses guns. We want to be the kid on the block with the shiny toy and that's what waterboarding is! Okay, so that's a little stretched, but I think you gist.

* That's not to say that torture for the thrill of it is ever right. But if that's what it took, then that's what it took.

Today I went into this seminar thinking that my thoughts were going to be said to be stupid and unintelligent but I was wrong. Danner did disagree, but not in a demeaning way. He spoke intelligently and respectfully stating just what he's researched and felt.

The main point of the whole thing was to show how the use of torture went against the U.S. Constitution. The 8th Amendment specifically states that we won't use cruel and/or unusual punishment. And then there's also the Geneva Convention. And I knew that these were against the use of torture but it really didn't seem like that big of an issue to me.

So Danner started by reading one prisoner's account of being tortured in Iraq. It was that of one of the men behind 9/11 and the first to be interrogated this way. He was more of a guinea pig for the techniques, to see what was effect and what wasn't. I saw it as a method of pulling heartstrings and getting everyone on his side. He was manipulating the crowd and my arms were still folded at this point. but as he talked I started to see his point and even had a couple of questions. I was asking myself, "Should policy be rewritten to account of the change in warfare?" We weren't marching in lines in fields anymore; we're fighting a different war and should adapt to fight it adequately.

Danner explained how the founding fathers of our country who wrote the Constitution put that in there because they saw torture in England and tied torture to tyranny. He also told how interrogation techniques were used against the Nazis that were very effective and didn't involve torture. And how we give up the possibility of true justice when we use torture. We can't bring those who have been tortured into the court system because it's illegal. And at this point I started to think that perhaps torture isn't necessary. We shouldn't have to compromise ideals and human decency to win a fight. If our goal is to eradicate terrorists, we can't just kill them all because they will just keep coming. And if we stoop to their level and torture then that doesn't give them a reason to stop.

And when it came down to it, Danner didn't say that Bush and his administration was evil. He didn't even say they did a bad job. He believed that they believed that they did what they thought was best. But he said things needed to change. That our country needs to stand for what it stood for so long ago, back when we corrected ourselves and admitted mistakes. We need to take a stand and make our thought on the use of torture known. It isn't necessary, it isn't the only way to get things done. We can still fight fairly because this isn't a question of who has the better gun. It seems more of a question of revenge. They deserve this because they are evil. But they are humans and they don't deserve that. We can protect our country and not use torture. 9/11 didn't happen because we weren't using it. 9/11 happened at other security faults of our government - not following leads and investigating people living in the states and more and more. It was just something that happened, like Pearl Harbor. If we knew what we know now, it wouldn't have happened but that's not how it works. And if we'd been torturing then, that doesn't mean anything.

Anyway - those are the thoughts I had yesterday. Feel free to comment - just keep it respectful.

We're Human, This At Least We've Learned.

Last night I intended to play at an open-mic night of a bar near campus. As I was loading into my car, I received a call letting me know that they weren't doing it tonight. So all of my friends who made plans to go and see me decided that we'd hit up Sonic for tasty treats (Lemon Berry Creamslush is among my favorites) and then we'd head over to The House to hang out and perhaps music would still be had. The House is the name that is currently given to the house at which I live - along with Eric, J.A. Barr, Spencer, & Matthew. I could tell you about them all but I would feel like Jack Kerouac. The descriptions would consist of weird occurrences where you weren't and so you probably wouldn't get it - that's not to say that you wouldn't find them all as fascinating as they are...I'm just saying...

Back to the story................

So when one - and by one, I mean me - plays guitar for people, he's very conscious of the fact that people tend to ask to hear songs but once they make their decision, their assessment, critique, they either fake enjoying it or truly do. And he's been in situations wherein someone keeps playing and playing and playing and playing and playing and playing and playing and playing and playing and playing and playing and playing and playing and playing and it feels much like you were just now in wondering how many times I was going to type "and playing." Well, he doesn't want to be that guy. That party guitar guy. Always leave them wanting more! That's what we say.

So even though he really, very deeply wanted to play music and wanted for his friends to hear it he didn't bring it up as if he wanted to play slide show from his trip to wine country for them that they'd endure. So once they started asking, and not just one but a choir of voices asked to hear his songs, he got out his guitar.

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Spencer is a musician thru and thru. He's a writer. He's a thespian of life. But he'd hate to think that he was described in this manner. Talking to him feels like talking to a man who's been at sea for too long and broken more hearts than I've ever known. One who's seen dark places and even dwelt there. Cynical about the world and people who control it. He lives life as best as he can. I don't know if these things are true of him, but that's what I feel. I love being around him.

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Spencer came in and picked up his guitar and made his upright bass ready. He made drunken comments - not that it mattered if he was drunk or not. That's another trait of Spencer. And sadly, the most boring part of the story is it's climax. They played music and there was applause after each one. People saw a side of him that they'd never seen. They had probably started to wonder "what does this kid do, anyway?" Well, he showed them.

So Spencer and some of the others went out side while the rest of them sat inside and even asked for more. Harmonicas were used and lyrics were forgotten but laughter was there as well. It was a good time. And he realized that it was better to play in this setting because it showed that these were true friends and good people who care about him.

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While at Sonic - which I commonly & incorrectly refer to as Sonic's - one brought up the common realization of "how far you've come in a year." I sat there, knowing that I've been thinking about this past year quite a bit lately. He named people in the group who he knew at that point and who he didn't and everyone took a turn at this over top of each other. I wondered how many of those names have come to take someone else's spot.

All of these people I know who I call friends - I didn't even know they existed six months ago. One of them I even had a class with but he doesn't remember. I am thankful for these people. These people who teach me things daily even though I may not see it until reflection or drunken revelations.

But I think of those who have come and gone in my life and how difficult it is to picture their faces or imagine their voices. It's always a little low or has the wrong timbre. Haha, like trying to remember the first line of the 2nd verse in that song last night (Which is: "When it rains will you walk beside me." Oh the things remembered in the shower.) I had to make it up. Like I do with you. The unfamiliar things which used to be so familiar will never be again. And this isn't all bad as that's the way life works. The trick is to not forget it all but remember those who leave a mark and touch your soul.

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I've come a hell of a long way in these twelve months. I've been in places that I never thought I would. I've done things that I said I never would. I am where I never thought I'd be. But I am happy. Each day J.A. makes me laugh as if I'm drunk, to which he replies in a way that only he can, "Are you drunk?" And I just laugh more and even have to question if I am or not.

I have laughed and cried with people that I may never even talk to again. But it's not all sad. I just hope that they remember me as a part of their past like I remember them.

But days turn to weeks and weeks to months. Leaves fall and rise back to their place. Old men close their eyes and babies cry. Things come to an end - good and bad. And life goes on. You can't blame mishaps of your life on others. Just watch your own skin but don't be afraid to bleed. Because it's in those moments that we realize we're human. This at least we've learned.

Two Song Debut.

I've noticed this new voice in my songs. It's one that has slowly been coming out over time but I find it to be near maturity now. Maybe that's not for me to decide. Here's a couple rough videos of two songs I've recently written. The lyrics are there, but you'll have to go back one entry to find some.

I found that using a video is the easiest way to get an immediate result, it does however removed the option of editing sound and such - which isn't that great. Oh well; it'll do for now... Enjoy.

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Had a wife back home

I was on my way to see her

And my baby boy

He was only three years old

But a man came in

He didn't want our things

For what he took that night

I would give it all away

I knelt down and picked them up

Wash the blood from your hands

Lay down in the river

Oh my sweet child

I will deliver

Once the blood turned cold

He went to load his gun

"I will hunt this man

No matter how far he runs!"

He searched around for months

Leaving no stone unturned

But everywhere he went

There was nothing to be learned

And as the man sat by a fire he looked over his shoulder all night

He held his head in his hands and he cried, knowing full well he deserved to die

"What have I done? I am no man! But You, You are the great I Am

Who so ever believes in you, Oh God, My God, Oh God, I do!"

Wash the blood from your hands

Lay down in the river

Oh my sweet child

I will deliver

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