Archive for November, 2011


…’cause the world is a place that will eat you alive in one day, the world is a place that you can’t survive without faith…gotta hold on and live your life day by day, gotta hold on and put your focus on that one day…

Akon and Matisyahu. Awesome combo for sure.

I wrote a really long post a little bit ago and I must admit that I don’t know that I’ll ever upload it. It’s just too raw, too bare, too…revealing. I think that perhaps I am not quite as comfortable with that kind of absolute honesty as I like to think I am…if that makes any sense.

I try not to hold back; to pull no punches. I don’t like to filter things here, but I just can’t quite bring myself to lay my soul bare like that.

Not yet anyway. I hate that there are borders in my mind. The very idea of limiters (of any kind) makes me literally feel ill.

Also the word limiters is weird, I feel like it should be limitors. Even though I know it’s not.

Once again, I am very strange.



“My imperfections and failures are as much a blessing from God as my successes and talents and I lay them both at his feet.”


Molon Labe

This post has been sitting in my upload cue for a couple of days now. The app crashed once and I rewrote it. I had to turn my phone off another time and it deleted all of my unsaved changes.

I like the title. So I’ve decided to rewrite it a third time. Only this time from scratch. A few days have modified my views somewhat; the perspective gained, however slight, over the original text is worth the effort I think.

And since it’s my blog, whatever I think should be done, is what gets done.

It’s nice to actually have full creative control over things. Editors are my bane.

So, Molon Labe

(Pronounced in modern Greek as mo-lone la-ve.)

μολὼν λαβέ!

It’s inscribed, engraved rather, on the statue of Leonidas at Thermopylae. It means: “Come and take them.”

Fitting words for a last stand. My original post was about the stands that we all take in life. Its an absolute truism that at various times everyone must stand firm in their belief and the rightness of that belief.

I’ve always been interested in the idea of values, morals and ethics. Every class I took had a component of those concepts to them. I always wonder how much of them are inborn and how many are simply learned behavior.

Do we all have that kind of ethical greatness within or are we but mimicking the best ideals we’ve been taught?

And if they are a mixture of the two, why are so many people able to ignore both their instinct and their indoctrination to perform such awful acts upon their fellows?

It’s something to think about.


“A true outlaw finds the balance between the passion in his heart and the reason in his mind. The outcome is the balance of might and right.”

-John Teller

I find inspiration in the oddest places.


What is happening to my frakking blog?

I am constantly too tired or too busy to think of late.

I dislike this fact.

…and I need you to recover, because I can’t make it on my own…

I…I…I am too concerned with “I” it seems. My focus seems to have shifted from those insoluble, mysterious questions I so enjoy pondering to such mundane things. Things like trying to find a garment company that doesn’t work it’s employees to death for pennies a day, a printing firm that’s wholesale prices won’t break my company’s fragile bottom line.

Being a chief kind of sucks.

Whiny, I know. But it’s not the job that I hate, it’s the shift into normalcy.

I was going to etch my name onto eternity.

What happened to that kid?


I’ll start this with a simple thought: I hate being cold.

I remember when we moved to the states, I had never seen snow and cold to me was a balmy seventy or so degrees.

I was disabused of that idea fairly quickly.

It’s been raining, a lot. Fall/winter rain is a whole different experience than summer rain. In the summer you get this wet/warm smell that instantly transports me back in time to the central-american jungle.

Winter rain just freezes on my windshield and reminds me only that I need a new ice-scraper.

I think I may need a break from writing to live a little more, I sense a repetitive staleness to my work that is completely unacceptable.

Yup, all that from being cold.

Life is a highway perpetually under construction

Annnnnnnnd let the random begin:

I am neither sleeping nor eating enough.

It’s nice being back at one-eight-five though.

I keep having the oddest dreams, a-cee-you dreams with an em-four I’ve named lucy.

(I enjoy spelling things phonetically.)

All of the bruises and scars have new meanings in this dream; they no longer make sense when I am alert in the waking world.

I find myself thinking, over-thinking everything I think I know to be true about this life.

Always I search for purpose, for some sort of rational order to the chaos that is reality. I have always been a seeker, I wonder now what it is I have sought.

Thumping-metal-raid-music is the soundtrack. Sometimes in the background-quiet, now growing louder.

Sand and dirty water clash in explosions of sound and color; an oft-conflicting riot of sensory input pushes the world fully off-kilter as my boots hit the ground. Everything dials down to a scoped-view of about thirty-eight degrees. Red donut firmly in the center.

Almost memories they are. I always awake feeling like time has warped and it’s two-thousand-two again, a ball-chain around my neck, gritty with sand and sweat. Lost in the glare of a desert reflected from the polarized lenses I wear.


We pull upon the risers
We fall upon the grass
We never land upon our feet
We always hit our ass
Hide tidee, Christ almighty
Who the hell are we?
Zim zam, goddamn!
We’re Airborne Infantry

Cadence from the 506th Parachute Infantry. Circa WWII.

Space, above and beyond

I still feel as incredibly ripped-off that I’ll never fly a spaceship now as I did as an eight-year-old.

Some things never change.

Some things do.


Why does it seem to never occur to anyone that if I have headphones or earplugs in my ears that there’s a very solid possibility that I can’t hear the words coming out of their mouths?

I’ll admit that I use my headphones as a tool for social distance. Sometimes I’m not listening to anything – I just don’t feel like conversing. I wrote a research paper about it as an undergrad. It was fairly boring. I’ll not force-feed you the details.

I also enjoy the strange looks I get when I’m wandering a store on my phone – through my headphones. I do talk to myself rather frequently so I’m sure it doesn’t look that strange to anyone that actually knows me…and if strangers think I’m strange, well, who cares? I don’t know them so their opinions about/of/on me don’t matter.

At any rate, I’ve got things to do; so enjoy the fall, do big things before the year is over. You’ll never be here again. This time, this place, this moment is over before you even register it.