Friday, December 25, 2009

Late night ponderings

You know this whole thing started out with the best of intentions, I was going to write down everything that took place on my big trip, the trip that reignited my spirit and forged my resolve from the person who lost everything to the person who had everything to give. Unfortunately, work and my newfound social obligations have kept me from my appointed rounds, and to that I am sorry.

I will say though, it has been a ball. Plenty of great times, good friends, and hilarious dating hijinks have transpired since then. During this time of reflection, I have to say that I'm feeling better now than I have in years. I enjoy walking into a bar alone and making new friends, to meeting random strangers and telling hilariously embellished stories. By the way, my grandfather invented the electric toaster.

I feel like I'm closer to who I really am than at this time last year. That's a good start. It's been a tough year of setbacks and realizations, with seemingly few joys and many more jabs received than thrown. But those joys, of kissing someone for the first time in a snowstorm, of cresting the Ozarks and seeing the west spread around me on a hot September afternoon, of finally getting to set foot on my family's ancestral lands, of taking an adventure with my father that will live in my mind forever...they're worth it. It's all been worth it. Even if the girl and I didn't work out, the vacation ended and reality returned, I'm learning that sometimes memories are a good thing to have.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009


It's funny to me sometimes just what kind of music I tend towards. In this age of the internet, just about any type of music is available almost instantly via a plethora of internet sites. Some legal, some less than, but it seems that music is more than ever able to inspire the masses.

Right now, I'm listening to some Social Distortion. "Angel Wings" to be exact. Yes, it's not the more hardcore stuff of their earlier albums, which I also enjoy greatly, but it fits the mood I'm in. It's acoustic as well, which I find fits contemplation better than the full band versions of many songs.

Tired of figuring out things on my own, Angel wings won't you carry me home.

Yeah, at this point in my life I have a lot figured out. There's no such thing as true love, as happily ever after. At least not now. Those movies lied to us and we wanted it, because deep down we all want the good things in life without the pain that comes with it. The next day, the champagne has gone flat and the roses wilt, that great romance changes over time and it all comes to a decision: stay and live in the shadow of what once was or move on?

So far, I've kept moving on. Or rather, in certain cases that decision was made for me. There are a million things to say at those moments: "We tried all we could." "It just wasn't meant to happen." "We're better off friends." "I can't see this working." "I'm sorry."

It all comes down to one thing: It ended. Some people live their life in rememberance of that, they hold on to the pain because it's all that was left. I did that for many years, alcohol filling that big empty space and giving me the attention I wanted. I even met other people, but it never filled that hole I had dug in my own emotional backyard. They knew it too. I'd have a thousand-yard stare, even when I was happy I was holding back.

After this last weekend, I realized that the entire ideal I thought was coming to me doesn't exist. It's planning, which is the great ruining force behind life as we enjoy it. Our fate as rational beings ties us to try to control the uncontrollable: Nature, other creatures, other people, ourselves, even existance as we know it. We do what we must in order to ensure our own survival, so we build shelters, elect leaders who will protect our ideals, kill plants and animals for food and erect memorials to the great conquering heroes of our past. On another level, there are many who cling to the thought that there must be someone else out there for us. Some perfect "Soul mate" who will accept us as who we are and who we can be ourselves around. A partner in crime, as it were.

When I was a kid, I used to throw rocks in the stream behind my parents house to try and create a dam. Even when I thought I had it, I'd have a little pond to splash around in and have fun, that little stream would find a way through and undo all the work I had put in. It's the same with love, it seems. I've tried and tried to find this mystical one person, but now I realize that it's a crooked game. That person really doesn't exist. It's my attempt to try and stop that stream again, but no matter how hard I've tried to control the nature of love, the stream found a small hole and went about it's business. It's about finding people you enjoy being around, and working to keep things enjoyable. Enjoy the stream for what it is, for you'll destroy it if you make a lake of it.

I don't care about what they say,
I won't live or die that way.
Tired of figuring out things on my own,
Angel's Wings won't you carry me home.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

none given, none taken

It's the memories that get to me sometimes. Especially now that the leaves are changing and the weather is growing cold. Those summer nights seems like a lifetime ago, the midnight rides where I'd take one road until it ended and then find another to take...

I guess that's why I'm Just Another Biker. Each road on Goldy (my old totally redone Honda Goldwing) brings me closer to whatever it is that brings me joy. Hitting fifth gear and pulling my hands off the bars, just letting the wind carry me along, watching the farmhouse lights reflecting in the tank and a million stars overhead. It's a solitary experience, because in my experience having someone with you changes the freedom you feel. You can't really share a personal experience, you can try but it always falls short of actually being in those shoes.

Some nights I'd just head in one direction as far as I wanted, some nights I'd see how many counties I could hit before I had to turn back and sleep. Some nights I'd just keep going regardless, not getting back home until the sun came up, chasing that feeling of freedom like a shot of two-dollar whiskey.

I light another cigarette and ponder it farther. Am I running from something, or running to it? That's the question. The first question brings about cowardice and excapism, the second something else. All I know is that when I'm cruising in fifth, doing about 65 or so, with one hand on the bars and I'm watching the suspension soaking up the imperfections in the road along with my own shortcomings, I feel at one.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009


Hey everybody, a few friends told me to give this a go, so here I go. Playing the star again. I have a few things to post, but no time just yet to put them up. I'll be on it though, that's for sure. I have no idea what a label means for this post. I'm late to the blogging party, so someone give me a hand!