Archive for November, 2011


My blog has become a stream-of-thought notebook.

I don’t have enough time to think, I think.

I’m writing, running, working, playing and fighting a cold.

My days have become far too routine. I am unamused by this.

I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. How does one stay hungry when the plate is overflowing?


What dreams may come

Ugh such weird dreams last night.

I’ve got to stop eating weird things before bed.

Nosce Te Ipsum

My mind is such a strange place. I wish I had the vocabulary to adequately describe the things that fly through me daily.

So many ideas, such random thoughts. It’s so hard to concentrate sometimes. I literally have to force myself to stay focused on whatever I’m doing, it’s often a supreme act of willpower to do so.

I fail a lot.

I hate routines. The seeming monotony of daily life grinds on my soul. Every second of every minute of mundanity eats away at me.

I crave excitement, adventure, adrenaline; experiences. I’ve never been greedy. I don’t care about material things; money has always meant (and always will mean) nothing to me.

I don’t want to look back from some distant point in the future and say: “Well, at least I’ve got a lot of stuff.”

The things that really matter to me are very simple: friends, family, love.

That’s the test of this life if you ask me; what wouldn’t you sacrifice? Is there anything that shouldn’t be risked to find your soulmate?

I think the answer is an easy one. The path is riddled with traps, with shortcuts and wrong turns. The only test that you have to pass is from the face staring back at you in the mirror; if you can’t look yourself in the eyes and say: “Sure I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve learned from every single one, I’ve grown from every bad decision, every wrong step…” then you’re failing your own test.

I don’t know that everyone asks themselves these questions, but it’s something that is on my mind every single day. That first look in the mirror before the day begins will always tell me what I’m doing right or wrong.

Being honest with yourself is hard but it’s the first step to being truly comfortable in your own skin, the first step on the path to the pursuit of happiness that Jefferson knew was every human being’s right.

Look, look hard and deep, internalize everything you can and use it – it’s the fuel that powers the human spirit, it’s what makes or breaks each and every one of us.

I am a lot of things; what I do defines me – to an extent. To a greater extent – I define what I do.

One of the things that I am: very strange. I rather like that, it means I’m thinking, always thinking, and pushing, ever pushing.

What are boundaries if not to be crossed, explored: pushed ever outward?

We’re given limits the minute we begin to decipher the world, our views are tailored by the culture we’re born into.

Even our languages are a language of limitations, borders and boundaries. We’re taught to be productive citizens, we’re taught to be all sorts of things, everything except individuals.

I believe that circumscribing the possibilities inherent in all humans is a mistake. We lose so much genius, we lose things there are no names for, things that could be that never will.

There is too much fear in our world. Too much medication and not enough hope.

So fly, fly you, to your fences and walls – to those things that will forever form the borders of your lives.


When one begins downloading songs from one’s favorite video games one has opened a door.

A geeky, geeky door.

One that cannot be closed.

One has made peace with this.

dot dot dot


Just sayin.


My thoughts feel odd of late.

I think I may be listening to too much Moby.

This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill, fifteen percent concentrated power of will, five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain and a hundred percent reason to remember the name.

Sometimes, just sometimes: someone else can say what I want to say better than I can.

Do something amazing today: it’s eleven-eleven-eleven.

Pretty freakin cool.


Oh frustration, we meet again.

Occasionally I am forced to give in to the stress that can sometimes define our lives.

Those times are hard, which isn’t just a personal experience. Intellectually I know that everyone goes through such things.

The immediacy of those personal stresses makes that hard to see sometimes.

Being optimistic is hard work at times, keeping your head up and a smile on is sometimes one of the hardest things you’ll ever do.

Do it anyway.



It strikes me as incredibly sad that there is truly nothing eternal about the universe that we inhabit,

Everything we build begins to decay as we build it.

Even ideas die. There can be no forever.


Let the randomness begin, anon, as it were:

The line at GameStop for MW3 was insane, I’ll just go ahead and wait until tomorrow for my copy.

The nanowrimo novel is going well, it’s fairly insane. I like it muchly thus far.

I also wrote a synopsis for a standalone, backstory novel from my series.

It’s going to be pretty wicked.

But I’m not writing it until after I finish the first and second chronicles.

And maybe a couple of other projects that I’d like to do after the chronicles are complete.

I’ve got too many ideas, and the flu.

Soooooooo, goodnight wordpress peeps. Hmmmm preeps maybe?

Yeah, night preeps.


There are moments, moments that hit without warning, in which everything feels perfect.

When everything dials down to a perfect contentment, as though your wheels have hit a groove; smooth, effortless.

I love that.

Life is wicked cool.