If you want to get out alive.

So what if you can see
The darkest side of me



... been a while. And there's a reason for that. I've been cruising for a few months, and I haven't been thinking about it much. I've been a little too much "in the moment".

Granted, my goal in life is admittedly simple:  to enjoy...  (and live the hell out of)...  my life.  I want to look back, when I'm old (if I even make it that far), and feel like I did it right.  Along the way, I want to be good to the people who are good to me, protect and cherish the ones I love, and build a wealth of experience without regret.  I don't believe I'm on the way to a "heaven" or a "hell", but I do believe in right and wrong, and I'd like to be righteous.  I don't really care about money or fame, beyond allowing myself the freedom to achieve the above while living in comfort.  And also not hating every second of it sitting behind a desk somewhere, as that would ruin the entire thing.

I know I missed the "party" phase of my early 20's completely.  I know I've been in relationships for over 8 of the 10 years I've been in Los Angeles.  I know I didn't have much fun at all in the last year of my most recent relationship, and found myself in an unhealthy place.  But, in 2011, I've been trending back in the other direction.  Too much fun, as it were. 

This is a big city, and there are a ton of awesome, interesting, beautiful, talented, and lost people here.  If the last 4-5 months have taught me anything, it's just how much opportunity I am fortunate enough to have.  There's always something to do, somewhere to go, and you can get caught up in that fact.  I do believe testing those waters is something that's good for my soul.  But I highly doubt I want to go under and leave my skeleton down there, brittle and abandoned.

Bottom line?  I have all the luck, opportunity, and good fortune in the world, so don't take this as whining.. it's plain honesty directed at myself.  Too many distractions.  Not enough time.  Not enough focus.  Stretched FAR too thin.  Somewhat stagnating on my progress towards long-term personal (and professional) goals.  Lacking the ability to prioritize efficiently at all times.  Willingness to give in to what's easy, what's fun, what's pleasurable.  Time to "slow my roll", as it were, and find some discipline.  Putting these truths into writing is a small step in the right direction.

Related to this, I heard some sad news today about the health of a family member I am extremely close to.  You gotta appreciate your life, people.  You need to take advantage of your opportunities for happiness and experience, and you need to seize them with both hands and run as far as your feeble mortal body can carry you.  None of us are getting out of here alive.  Not you, and not me.


Life's too short, so love the one you got.  'Cause you might get run over, or you might... get... shot.


-Adam

Today is the first day of the rest of your life.

JUST WATCH IT, ASSHOLE:

I'm BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK.

I bet you thought I stopped being a sissy emo "blogger", came to my senses, and you were done with me here. Guess again!  I was alone with my thoughts, opening a pickle jar.  I also spent a number of nights in the woods consuming American soil and wrestling bears.  If you didn't spend 60 seconds watching the above video, you won't understand.  And, believe me, there really is NO BETTER WAY to spend 60 seconds of your life than watching the Mantage.  You're welcome.

Life is good, life is golden, life is grand.  Life is complicated.  Life is full of boring grinds and shining little moments.  Life probably ends up getting you what you need.  If you're lucky.

Of course, I'm the type who likes to make his own luck.  So the new year is off with a bang.  My fitness goals are in progress, and, after a certifiably crazy-ass end to 2010, I'm ready to hit it again with ferocity.  I need to prove it to myself, not anybody else.  So if you've ever really wanted something and finally felt like you could get there, you'll understand.  If you want to be supportive that helps too.  DO NOT bring me cookies and pizza.  DO ask to go hiking or rollerblading at the beach with me and the puppy.  DO NOT try to seduce, distract, or otherwise intoxicate me so I miss Sunday morning basketball.  DO come and play with me instead!

Scrawny.  Needs muscles.  Please feed lean chicken + Tuna Fish.

In other news, shit is in the works.  I'm slowly getting the guitar action in place.  I will make it happen.   Also investing time in my nerdy organized video gaming pursuits, where I am a gentleman, a scholar, and a noted leader of internet men (and women).  I take pride in it, and I enjoy it.  I probably should have been a military strategist.  Or not.  I most definitely AM a huge nerd.  DEAL WITH IT :)

Finally, thank you to all of my friends, new and old.  I've opened myself up to meeting new people and the response has been nothing short of astounding.  Honestly.  So many cool people out there in the world (and in LA) that seemingly appreciate one or more things about little twisted me.  At least that's what they say.  You tend to forget that sort of thing when you're passing the time getting chubby and sad in a jaded relationship, waiting for something... anything... anything at all.  Eh, I did my time.  I tried.  That's the truth.  I really tried.  At least events conspired to provide me with the circumstances to necessitate protecting myself quickly.  Never good to linger.

Less than zero free time and I feel myself streched beyond thin.  The career is better than ever, almost surprisingly so.  The free time to hang with cool people is at a premium, but I'm giving it the ole college try.  I understand I'm probably sometimes disappointing with my current overall lack of physical or emotional availability, but I do try to be up front about it and keep it copasetic.  The many hobbies will always be there and I try to honor them as well.  And, of course, the puppy puppy, and her separation anxiety, destroying of my possessions, and confusion over her new half-and-half parenting.  What did I get myself into?  As always, my father is rarely (if ever) wrong... :)

"Where you at, Squirrel?  I'MMA COME UP THARR SON"

Yes, blogs are still lame and masturbatory.  But, ideally, mine will amuse you.  If you don't want to laugh with me, there's always the option to laugh at me!  And, finally, get into this if you haven't yet.

NEXT LEVEL BREAKFAST MANUEVER:

Calm like a bomb.

And so it is.  Just like you said it would be.  The colder water.



Just learned how to play an arrangement of this song recently.  If you watch some of his live videos, you can really appreciate why, although he doesn't have a traditional voice, the songwriting and delivery more than make up for it.  At least, that's what I think.  Second video down below that I am willing to tell you is likely worth your time.

Although I've had a LOT (thanks!) of positive feedback about this little endeavor,  I know criticism is out there.  People want me to know that posting how I feel about the pseudo-details of what I'm going through is lame.  Immature?  Not classy. 

All I can say is, I hear you.  I get what you are conveying.  I'm not stupid.  I get it... you feel it's better to bottle it up inside, and it makes you uncomfortable if I do not.  I guess I'm just not afraid to say what I want to say publicly, because I actually believe in what I have to say.  I do know that this blog makes me feel better.  It stops me from internalizing so much and carrying all that weight.  In a way, and this is kinda funny, it's like crying.  Letting it out.  I'm not the type to do that very often, but I won't pretend like it isn't a positive event.  Being that I'm not a substance-user, and I'm going through some shit right now, my outlets are music, physical activity, and writing.  I'm fine if I'm the only one who gets a little catharsis here.  And... if what I have to share resonates with anybody else and helps them gain a little perspective in their lives too... all the better.

So, if you hate that I'm doing this, I understand.  We can agree to disagree, or you can stop talking to me, or whatever you need to do.  I won't fight you on it.

Turn the page.

First twenty-four hours truly being alone, both physically and spiritually, I guess.  Just me, a half-empty apartment, and the puppy dog Great Dane, who I watch as she wonders where all the furniture she used to slobber and sprawl upon has vanished to.  Wish I could tell you I feel better off for it, but that would be a lie.  And this isn't a place for lies, 'cause if it ever becomes that, then what's the fucking point?

So just the truth.  I think the last days could have gone much better for me.  Yesterday, I was ready to put a smile on and call a toast and let the pieces drift slowly under the bridge and out to sea, unforgotten.. yes, but free to escape.  I really was.  Planned to do it up big and go out with a bang and just blow those preconceived notions about life "post-breakup" right off the grid.  I figured we could just create our own reality here.  Be like "hey... we gave it a shot and it didn't work out, but we'll be alright because we're too strong to let it go the other direction". Have a big party in our own honor, invite all the principals, everyone just be cool, and let's celebrate how half-full that glass looks, right?  Why should things be "awkward"?  What the fuck for?  Aren't we top percentile types?  Don't we do what we want?  Aren't we better?  Bigger people?  "Best friends", right? 

It's delicate, I guess.  It's a hair trigger, and maybe sometimes that means the gun goes off.  Opportunity wasted.  It hit me like a freight train.  Something subtle, something inconsequential.  An off-hand comment.  Suspicions.  A mannerism.  A quick reaction, perhaps thought to be concealed.  But so revealing.  Choices.  Preferences.  Priorities.  What likely should be nothing is actually, to be frank, a big "something" to me, because it's wholly indicative and illuminating of where said priorities exist.  And maybe they should exist that way.  Maybe that's for the best.  Maybe that's healthy and let's slash the cord and/or the hypothetical idea of said cord we've been using as a pillow for so long now.

Overreacting, Adam?  Maybe.  Who knows?  Shoot me down at your leisure.  All I know is how I feel.  I am a prideful, prideful bastard.  Sensitive.  Wholly resentful of ever feeling slighted, and I cannot run from it.  In a time when all I really have been grasping desperately for is just a notion of some kind of true fundamental respect... a little trust... the will to believe, I can't find it for my goddamn life.  And, as little of a thing as that may seem, the real truth is those little things are everything to me.  As emo as I am, ranting on my "blog" right now like a little girl, venting it out to the WWW, the fact of the matter is that I generally play it close to the vest.  The group of people who I will completely let my guard down to is very, very small.  And I'm not talking about who I'll share my feelings with, because I am not afraid to do that and reveal myself.  Clearly I don't have a problem doing that right here, right now, to everybody and anybody bored enough to browse.  When I say "let my guard down", what I actually mean is "trust you enough to believe you will not hurt me".  And that's rare for me.  So I desperately want that inner circle to be full of people who, when push comes to shove, are going to back me up and protect me to the end.  Because each of those people better know that, if they truly need anything, I'm hands-down the fucking guy to call and they can be CERTAIN I will come through.  I'm not going to lie and claim to be an unselfish person, but if it's important, and you need me, I will not let you down.  That's the core of who I am.  I want to believe the people closest to me believe in me and my dedication to being there for them when they need me most.  I want to believe in them.  

I don't know what is more upsetting to me.  Is it what I've actually lost?  What I actually had?  Or is it that I feel like I marched into the bank, withdrew everything I had, strode to a casino, arrogantly tossed it all down on the roulette wheel, grinned at the casual observer, and proceeded to watch it all flush away?  What did I bet on, in the first place? What the fuck am I fighting for, exactly?  My own stubborn, stupid pride?  My own preconceived notions on how things were going to go? 
 
I feel like I've been on another planet this last month.  Maybe I was asleep and dreaming, and I just woke up.  Maybe I've been blind.  It all feels cheap to me, generated at the behest of just a couple stupid situations.  But perhaps that's all it takes.

Penny-wise, pound foolish.

Don't worry (if you actually are), I will be fine... and sooner rather than later.  Now, if you made it this far... if you want to vibe with me emotionally... ignore the words you just read and watch this video the whole way through.
 
Perhaps we just need to get a little dirty sometimes, so someday we can appreciate what it's like to feel clean.  I hope that statement is less hollow than how I feel at the moment. 

Calm like a bomb.

Here is gone

And we wake up in the breakdown of the things we never thought we could be...

Onward she goes, life.  In the moment, it can be terribly present.  You feel hurt and it's so very unfathomable.  You're a sucker for punishment.  You almost want to live in it, to savor it.  I'm like a sponge right now, soaking up all of these raw feelings and hidden, wild thoughts.  I'm doing my very best to bend my will towards channeling all of this into something positive and creative and artistic in my life.  Sometimes it works.
 
At some point, however, after something "bad" and "transformational" has happened in your life, you might look at all of the pieces of yourself on the floor and you say to yourself "My my, Self, you're rather pathetic looking sprawled on the floor like a box of abandoned crayons in a classroom.  How about we get it together here before that janitor with the sideburns and the yellow walkman (rocking Billy Joel, duh) shows up to collect your spine and turn off the lights?"

That's me.  Although it might be tempting to continue feeling sorry for how I may believe I am knocked over and spilled to the four winds, it's not going to sustain me.  Life happens, and sometimes it sucks, and guess what?  You sack up, put on your big boy pants, and get back out there!  So, friends, if you're by my side on this ride, we're movin' on up.  To the Eastside.  To that deluxe apartment in the sky. 

Just 'cause it's a theme song don't make it not true.

Speaking of theme songs, let's talk about what I'm up to now.  Besides the joy of apartment hunting in Los Angeles, I've ramped up my guitar-based activity by roughly 3000%.  Eh, that's not even true, since I wasn't playing at all before.  God. Damned.  Shame. 

Who cares why or how... but I just wasn't playing.  That's over with.  I'm thinking back right now, and I can clearly recall a time in my dubious past when I was on a stage in some shitty bar in front of the general public, clutching a guitar, and playing and singing the theme song for something like, say, "America's Funniest Home Videos" deadpan.  Naturally I was using the Nickelback-guy voice for extra emphasis.  Reactions were 90% "uhh", 9% "wtf", and 1% "ADAM YOUNG YOU ARE MY HERO.  TO YOU I PLEDGE MY LIFE AND UNDYING SERVICE.  I ALSO PLEDGE THE SERVICE OF MY UNBORN CHILDREN, DIMINUTIVE THEY MAY BE AT PRESENT, TO YOUR ROCK CONQUEST".  That's fucking priceless, and rad-tastic.  I'm with you, 1 percent-ers.  Why would I ever abandon such a noble vision quest?

Therefore, I'm in preparations to start something (or some things) back up, because being a performing musician again is something I would love to be able to call myself.  It doesn't have to be anything big, because I legitimately doubt that I actually want to "make it" in the music business to the point that I would identify myself as a "real musician".  Playing music is just something that makes my inner child start grinning like a fool.  It's plenty for me to have a relatively small number of people appreciate something, on a semi-regular basis, that I truly enjoy putting out there.  I don't know what shape it will emerge as.  There are a bunch of things, musically, that I would love to pursue.  I'd love to be in a neo-classical metal band, for instance.  I'd also like to write folky acoustic songs.  And 90's rock is ole reliable.  Get it?  I'm twisted.

Right now, the issue would be vocals.  Either I need to meet a kick-ass vocalist, or I need to learn to be a kick-ass vocalist.  The latter is one of my fondest and most secretive fantasies (oops, guess I blew my cover), although it is not one of my natural talents, and I've never invested the kind of work and effort it might take to find out if it's even possible.  I've always felt like I can achieve most anything I put my mind to, but this isn't something I have 100% confidence in.  On the flip side, the day I bought a guitar at age 17, I struggled with it for 6 hours until my fingers were black and blue.  That day I was pretty convinced I would never be able to play guitar at all, and even told people that maybe I "just can't physically do it".    I've always been a player, not a singer.  I'm not a very good singer at this point in time.  Wish it wasn't so.  But it's an appealing notion, in that I wouldn't have to go "find" someone out there to try and hitch my fortunes to.  Unless it was a hot female with a great voice to play with.  That might be fun, for reasons that are obvious :)  We like attractive girls, we like rock'n'roll, and 1+1=2.. or more.  However, we can all be honest that this is about my ego, and in that situation my little boy ego would end up being bruised, because we ALSO all know that whenever there's a rock band with a chick singer, you don't even know who any of the other members are.  She's the "chick from ____ band", and they're the guys nobody is paying attention to any more :)


All in all, party people, I'm on the mend.  I'm out of the muck and the drama here, even if there are loose ends to attend to, and I refuse to let the dramatic muck drag me back in even if it tries something like that ever again.  Things are going to be just fine.  I'm playing music again.  My career is as good as it's ever been.  I am rounding myself into what I believe will soon be the best physical shape of my life (weighed myself yesterday.. under 180 for the first time in years... I was 211 at the beginning of May!!  10-15 more to go).  I live in one of the greatest cities in the world, and there are millions of people out there, and every opportunity and possibility I can desire.  I'm excited to renew friendships with old friends, and make some new friends shortly.

Here we go, life is waiting to begin.

Asteroids. Oceans.

Something from my childhood.

I turned a corner today.  I rounded the bend, somehow, someway.  I suppose it's natural.  I'm not the type of person to stay on the mat for very long.  I'm too proud, and whether that be foolish pride or not, it's a pride running through my veins nonetheless. 

Today was easier than yesterday, and yesterday was easier than the day before that.  I want to just take a second here and truly thank all of my friends and family for being "with" me right now.  I've just received some really heart-warming support and care from you guys, and it means the world to me.  I want to do better at repaying you and being as good of a man as I can be to each of you.  But, for those of you who do care, you are not unnoticed.

Ever act like an asshole and knock an ant-hill over just to witness the carnage while simultaneously looming like some supreme celestial being?  As a kid, I used to do that whenever I was roaming the forests and prairies of Northwestern Montana with my uncle.  We used to love that shit.  Hell, one time we rounded up all the red ants we could find in one bucket, and para-troopered them WW2 style to a black carpenter ant hill, which had been similarly punted.  Then we watched them go Mortal Kombat on each other for hours and marveled at our godliness.  Yes, this may be indicative of a terrible flaw in the psyche of Mr. Adam.  Not American Psycho chasing chicks with a chainsaw flawed, of course, but perhaps just a little demented... :)

Now, you aren't really going to win me over with a "sympathy for the ants" plea here.  Destroying stuff for no good reason is, well, unjustified.  But that's what adolescent boys do, while we flex our new-found muscles and our ever developing sphere of influence over the world.  Boys can be very, very cruel.  We crush.  We stomp.  We break.  We explode.  We.... kill.  At times, I was no different.  When you're immature, sometimes you just do stupid shit for the sake of doing it.  And, to this day, if a troop of ants decides to randomly invade and do loop-de-loops around my kitchen ceiling for God knows what reason... well... say hello to a murderous giant.  You climbed the wrong beanstalk, beeyatch.

In any case, once in a while, while I spin the great wheel of introspection towards the significant and/or insignificant plights I experience, I generally come out feeling rueful and full of a self-deprecating irony.  Irony, you know, permeating the ways I "tried" to change things, or the ways I "believed" things might occur, and the actual opposite ways they inevitably go down.  In moments like these, I ask myself if the universe might not be just some 200x larger Adam who just kicked over my anthill and went looking for his magnifying glass and firecrackers.  Maybe so.

So as I round the bend on this most recent chapter in my life, I have to consider whether or not we all might just be some kind of astral, planetary bodies colliding at random like synapses firing off in the night.  We drift towards each other.  Gravity pulls us in.  We collide.  We merge.  We shatter.  We depart, forever on an altered course, drifting off once more into the great unknown.  We will never be the same.

It starts as a molecule.  It's a droplet.  It's a cup of water.  It's a puddle you splash through.  It's a rivulet moving forward.  It's a gentle stream.  It's a tributary.  It's a frothing river full of rage.  It's a gulf.  It's an ocean.

And now here we stand, across an ocean, unspoken, removed from each other and impassable.  We drift on altered courses. 

Scars are souvenirs you never lose.  We will never be the same.

The Pleasure of the Pain

It's over now, and we don't know how to get it back to good.

Another great performance.  I've met and worked with the band before, and seen two or three concerts.  Nice guys!  I don't care what you anti-everything hipsters say, they're a good band and they write good, truthful songs :)

I'll probably be writing a lot here in the near future.  I need to.  If you think my ramblings and lyrics and music videos are annoying - I understand.  It's easy to close the window.  I'm sure in time I'll get back to posting the kind of sarcastic snark everybody expects from me.  But don't waste your time on me unless you feel you're gaining something back.

I think one of the hardest parts of getting out of a long-term relationship is the double-whammy.  Not only are you losing your "lover", who you presumably bared your soul to and whispered the sweetest nothings in your heart to for years, but you also feel like you're losing your best friend.  At least, in a healthy relationship you should be best friends and companions.  You should be a team united on building a life together that is greater than the sum of your solitary lives.  You need an unwavering dedication to the belief in the strength and longevity of that team.  This is what I wanted, what I was trying to construct in my life.

You truly find out who you are on the inside not when the good times are rolling, but in the valley of the darkest winters you might find yourself trudging through.  When the chips are down.  Are you going to walk away, or do you find a way to persevere and triumph?  You get punched in the mouth.  Do you fall down and give up?  Do you try to stand but fail?  Is failure not an option?  You find out what you're made of in your core.

For myself, I am learning a great deal.  This is a place to be honest, and I will be honest in stating that I am not perfect.  I put on a brave face.  But I am not proud of every choice I have made in this life.  Not even close.  I have regrets and I have made mistakes.  There have been times when I haven't tried, and there have been times where I coasted by on the good fortunes I was lucky enough to be born with.  There are times in my life when I feel like I have failed the trust of those I care about.  It hurts me on some level to utterly fail at reaching perfection.  But I feel wise enough to know that being a "perfect" person at all times is an unreachable ideal.  A pipe-dream.  You do the best you can, you learn from your failures, and you try to move forward.

I hide shades of shame, and I will not deny it.  I hide them well. 

However, after feeling what it's like to stand directly in the eye of a storm of "relative" catastrophe (in relation to how you planned things out in your mind) a few times now in the last ten years, I can say that I am proud of my ability to lay myself out there and believe.  I've been able to willingly drop the only shield I have between myself and the wolves lurking just outside my line of sight.  I've been able to trust and believe in another human being.  I've been able to extend my hand first and offer my commitment.  I've been able to bravely venture out into the cold cold darkness and seek out that small, flickering light of hope somewhere in the forest.  I'm probably more lover than fighter, but I'll be damned if I have not proven to myself that I will always fight with a cold and focused fury for those who I care about.  My circle is not very wide, but if you're in it, I am there for you.  

When breaking up, unless you were both just totally over the idea of being "lovers", and you're all about being mutual and moving on, it's going to be hard.  Whether it's absolutely real, or just emotional, somebody is going to feel like the knife is lodged squarely between their shoulder blades.  How do you lay down and rest your head on the comforts of friendship when you kinda feel like your pillow was doused in kerosene and engulfed in flames?  I do not have the answer.     

So then, read the lyrics for this song.  Is Rob Thomas spying on me, or are we all just tethered to a big wheel of commonality in this life?  We hold these truths to be self-evident.


Everyone here, is wondering what it's like to be with
Somebody else
Everyone here's to blame, everyone here
Gets caught up in the pleasure of the pain, everyone hides
Shades of shame, but looking inside we're the same, we're
The same
And we're all grown now, but we don't know how
To get it back to good

Hang

I've been listening to this song for ten years, and I feel like I just actually heard it for the first time. Wow.

ca-thar-sis (-n)

 Oh my god, where to begin?

Let's start at the genesis of this.  Me, blog?  But I'm the guy with snarky comments about blogs.  I'm the cool kid, and blogging is for emo sissies.  Why would I want to share my feelings and sensitivity with the dubya dubya dubya?  I'm a rock.  A fortress.  A fortified position.

Or maybe not.  The ship, sir, she be sinkin', and now we're all scrambling to see who can get over the rail first.  What am I referring to?  The idea of my present life, circa last week.  Sorry, kids, the party is over, and unfortunately my 3-year relationship scooted out the door when it heard the cops were on the way.  Was it my choice?  Not what I wanted.  Probably not what she wanted either.  But, it's been brought to my attention that it takes two to tango, and, furthermore, both of those parties will likely have to be capable of dancing.  And interested in dancing.  And I'm not going to stand against the wall at the back of the dance with venom in my eyes, equal parts jealous and insecure.

So here I am, at the crossroads.  Deep thoughts.  I just realized I haven't been writing at ALL for virtually three years.  It's a goddamn shame, because writing may be one of my better abilities.  At least, it always was.  Actually, let's be honest, I haven't really been "creative" since my last musical pursuit ended.  Yeah, in early 2009.  Terrible.  I am in the process of changing that as we speak.  This is part of that change. 

We need some clarity here.  Forgive me for being crude, if you're a virgin soul, but it occurs to me that two of the most honest moments in a man's life are when he A) just had sex, or B) just had a great workout (as in, exercise).  Why?  Because, in the case of A, he's now allowed a brief respite from thinking about trying to get "laid".  I use the term loosely.  If you're a man, just ask yourself... how much of what you have done in your life can in some way be attributed to a subconscious desire to attract, impress, or keep a mate?  Even a hypothetical one.  Yeah.  If you aren't a man, you might not understand.  Just take my word for it.  As for case B, the endorphins a man's body releases when exercising grant him temporary perspective on what it's like to just feel good.  After a great workout, that laundry list of problems just feels like it's half-sized and conquerable.  It's really amazing how your life changes when you exercise regularly.

Now, being that I've recently had the misfortune to be lacking "A" for longer than you really even want to know, this year I turned to "B".  In fact, the impetus for me starting to work out again was really to try and save my relationship.  Things were not going well, and I couldn't understand why, but the only thing I could wrap my brain around was there must be something unappealing about me.  So I set out to "change" that, whatever "that" was. 

Well, it didn't work.  However, it's been great for me on a personal level.  I really wasn't all that out of shape, but I've lost over THIRTY pounds in half a year.  I'm stronger than I've ever been before, and I'm eating better than I ever have in my life.  It's hard for a guy my size to survive comfortably on 1700 calories a day, but I've been doing mostly just that for the last six months.  At some point, it's just about sheer willpower.  Do you want to actually accomplish your goals?  Truly? Then go out and do something about it.  That's what I'm in the process of changing in my life, and it feels great.  In this case, it's about being dedicated to a gameplan, and seeing things through to their completion.  I am not yet where I want to be, health-wise.  It will likely take me another year.  But, unlike the last 10 times I "started working out", I'm actually going to do it this time.  I'm choosing to look like I want, and I'm not stopping until I get there. 

Six small Asian girls!

Speaking of seeing things through, well, I'm officially disappointed in what's gone down.  I really had faith.  I really had belief.  Now that it didn't go the way I wanted, how should I feel?  Was it my fault for trying?  Was I stupid?  Should I have seen this coming?  Should I have left the ship via helicopter in advance, rather than be here in the frozen waters clinging to a broken piece of the mast?  I don't really know.

There are some things that have gone (and are still going) down in the last week that are really threatening to cheapen my feelings about this entire three-year experience.  I myself am not perfect, and I acknowledge that here and now.  But it really sucks.  "Logic" can go fuck itself.  Painful choices.  Think about it for too long, and it threatens to overwhelm me.  Ignorance would probably be better, but it's not an option now.  Things you listen to that just torch your ears as they come towards you.  Words that burn your eyes just to glimpse.  But I've been a moth to the flame.  I'm going to change that.  The armor I had for this world was discarded, but I need to retrieve it and suit up like a big boy.  Get back on the horse and protect yourself.

Where do I go from here?  Good question.  I have zero interest in being single right now.  Being single in Los Angeles.  I have zero interest in trying to "get back out there" with the opposite sex.  You'd think, given my situation this year, I'd be chomping at the bit.  But I'm not.  I'm in pain and at times that's going to seep through the cracks in my brave brave face in tiny droplets of blood, sweat, and tears.  Other times, rushing out with the unchanneled agony that lurks in a sea of emotion.  It is what it is.

Even though I've lost something here, I've also gained a companion.  Luna.  She's the sweetest girl you can imagine.  We rescued her from a less-than-ideal situation, and, though she's a huge complication in my life, in general, I can't fault her for it :)

Luna wants to go outside.

"Touch my dad and lose that hand, hippie!"

So there you have it.  I am back on the map, in body if not in spirit.  Back out in the world on my own.  No idea where the road leads next.

If you're a friend of mine, reading this, nice job getting through my wall-of-text :)  I've been known to do that.  I've never had a "blog" before, and I have serious doubts that anybody is even going to read this.  I "know" a lot of people, but I don't necessarily know who I can count on (or who feels that way about me).  I do want to thank my amazing family for their companionship, understanding, and support.   I have some relationships with friends that have gone by the wayside that I really need to do a better job of putting effort into.  We have no excuse.  We have to put in the effort and make it happen, or we are friends in name only.

Until the next time I need to bleed myself out through this keyboard...

Landed

(courtesy of Mr. Ben Folds)


"We'd hit the bottom,
I thought it was my fault
And in a way I guess it was
I'm just now finding out
What it was all about

Moved to the west coast
Away from everyone
She never told me that you called
Back when I was still, I was still in love

Till I opened my eyes and walked out the door
And the clouds came tumbling down
And it's bye-bye, goodbye, I tried
And I twisted it wrong just to make it right
Had to leave myself behind
I've been flying high all night
So come pick me up
...I've landed

The daily dramas she made from nothing
So nothing ever made them right
She liked to push me
And talk me back down
Until I believed I was the crazy one,
and in a way
I guess I was...

But I opened my eyes and walked out the door
And the clouds came tumbling down
And it's bye-bye, goodbye I tried
Treading a sea of a troubled mind
Had to leave myself behind
Singing bye-bye, goodbye, I tried

If you wrote me off I'd understand it
Because I've been on some other planet
So come pick me up...
I've landed

And you will be 
So happy to know
I've come alone,
it's over

But I opened my eyes and walked out the door
And the clouds came tumbling down
And it's bye-bye, goodbye, I tried
Down comes the reign of the telephone czar
It's OK to call
Now I'll answer for myself

Come pick me up,
...I've landed"