On the Road Again Pt. III

Here we go again. It's time to pack up and move on to the next destination. I decided in July of this year (2011) that I would be moving back to Michigan, and that time has finally come.

A trek that will eventually have taken me nearly 5,000 miles, three states, and seven years to complete. From Detroit, Michigan to Phoenix, Arizona, to Orange County, California, and all the way back again. In each case, it was relatively easy to jump ship and try something else due to turmoil with a combination of jobs, bands, relationships, friendships, and family. I was always conscious of the fact that I could possibly be running from my problems, and for a while I was. Maybe I still am. But most importantly, I never denied what I felt in my heart, and I've always accepted the choices that I've made. I shall continue to do so.

I often remind others that "I never wanted to leave Michigan in the first place," but I'm glad that I did for several reasons; I've learned so much about myself, about the different regional cultures that exist in America, about the people that are (or once were) in my life, and most of all, how to appreciate what I have despite the notion of what else might be out there for me. I think that's something that most people can relate to.

Without this experience, I might have one day wondered "what if" I had moved away and started fresh in a place where nobody knew my name. I had the chance and I took it, because let's face it; most people can't just pick up and move hundreds or thousands of miles away and try something else. It takes a huge amount of guts and determination to do so, and even more strength to commit to such a big change. I knew that it would be difficult or maybe even impossible, but whether I lasted a year or a decade, I could one day come back home and know that at least I tried. Looking back on it now, I was never fully convinced that I could totally reinvent myself somewhere else and have a life better than the one that I had- but I never would have known without trying. I'm glad that I did.

Sometimes I wonder when this ride will slow down and stop- but I've known for a long, long time that it never does. While some may see this as disheartening, I see it as the next chapter in the adventure that is life. This is me turning the page.

Confession

I kind of let depression and alcohol take the wheel for a while. For the most part, those days are over. The key to the puzzle is that I must remain confident and positive, which often times contradicts my inner modesty. At the end of the day, I know that as long as I be myself and have good intentions, good things will come to me. I'm lucky enough to have a lot of good people in my life, and without them, I wouldn't be where I am today.

Here We Are Again.

I see you. But do you see me?

I used to care about that, but things are different now. I understand that we all see what we see from our current vantage points. Like snipers, we move from place to place, because we are fixated on our targets, yet we don't want to be caught.

But for fuck's sake, I ain't trying to shoot you. I just feel like you're trying to shoot me first. You want to put a gun in my face and make me spill my guts, tell you the truth. As I stare down your barrel, I must somehow convince you that the truth now is the same as it has always been.

Paradoxes upon paradoxes.

Loops upon loops.

I see you. But do you see me?

Deus Ex Machina, Pt. II

Through louvered windows, I see the lives of others, as others see my life.
The individual adjusts the pitch accordingly.

I have always had a large elliptical orbit between my sense of self and my meaning with the people around me. I guess that makes me human. Some humans are more human than others.

As my ellipse grows more and more oblong from my home planet, I spend more time away. Eventually gravity will slingshot me to another time, another place. I wish it weren't that way, but I cannot fight the forces of nature. In each last pass of said home planet, it becomes more somber; more bittersweet. For one day I shall never see you again.

With arms outstretched upon my departure, I wish not to leave, but if I must; please remember the words I left behind.

Coming Home

In July of 2005 I moved away from my home state of Michigan. There were a lot of reasons, but if there were a central theme, it would be personal growth on several facets. Part of me wanted to get away, part of me knew that separation and supreme challenge would help me grow into a better man.

Six years later, I'm ready to return home.

When I was younger, I would become easily frustrated with the challenges of life, as well as the challenges of understanding others and how to communicate with them. I thought that isolation would temper my soul and help make me more of a man, and to a degree, it has. Although I have not been completely isolated, being very far from your history will cause you to modify your perceptions of where you belong and who is important to you.

The main lesson that I've learned is that I alone cannot conquer life and get whatever the hell I want. I require the good, strong souls of those around me, because it helps make me who I am. That's partly because I don't feel like myself if I can't do the same in return. Had I cultivated a new existence out West, I could justify staying here. But seeing old friends and family reminds me that my heart never really left Michigan. And I have no shame in saying that nice weather isn't enough to keep me from that.

Levels

Level I: Childhood
Level II: Chaos
Level III: Confusion
Level IV: Acceptance
Level V: Anger
Level VI: Catharsis
Level VII: Refusal
Level VIII: Relocation
Level IX: Shedding
Level X: Repairing
Level XI: Loss
Level XII: Contemplation
Level XIII: Level 13.

The Ground That You Walk On.

Mama Ocean said "Open your eyes a little bit wider." Papa Moon said "Raise your head a little bit higher." But Auntie Breeze said "You cannot ignore me, for I am the wind of change." She smelled sweeter than ever tonight, which lets me know that Mother Earth is speaking to me. Ears and eyes wide open, for I am merely an inhabitant of your terrain.

There's No Such Thing as Time.

What words do I speak? Those of someone who lives by the second. I see beauty in sadness. I see sadness in beauty. I see a second in eternity as I see an eternity in a second. Rain is about to begin falling in California, and I'm gonna stand in it and let it fall on my head. I am no more a dude on the sidewalk than a bug in the dirt. Everything is relative.

Grenade

Give me a mic and a crowd. I got something to say and I have some energy to deliver... whether you want to hear it or not.

Twist and Go

I'm a cognizant trainwreck. I have been for over a decade. I know who I am. I know who you are. I KNOW HOW THE WORLD WORKS. But I focus on that. I focus on you. The concept of self was lost long ago. It's lost now. I know who I am, I know what I want and where I want to go. But yet I want to erase every word. Don't worry about me. Worry about you. Sweep it under the rug, you'll figure it out.

Why do I feel the need to broadcast this to the world? Because I don't listen when I'm saying it to myself. I'm fucking 28 years old. It's a trip to have a handle on everything in the world but yourself. I say "as long as I have everything else around me figured out, I'll be okay." But I'm not. And I can't sweep it under the rug anymore. I'm faced with the biggest mountain I've ever had to climb. I know that I want to climb it and I know that I can, I just have to make the first step.

It is the most difficult thing in the world to admit to yourself first that change is necessary. It's even more difficult to admit that to others, because you don't want to relegate your position. You want to say "I GOT THIS," but you can't carry the weight of the world forever. For a long time, I believed that I could. I still believe that I can. But I leave no time for myself. It's no one's fault but my own. I say "Fuck it, I got it." In life, is there really any other choice? I don't believe so.

I go ten kinds of crazy when someone tells me that I don't care about them. If only they knew that all of my care is outwards. It is sincere, it is a fact of science and nature. It cannot be broken. It's like someone telling you "Hey. The sky is red." You say "No, look up, IT'S BLUE!" "Nope, it's red." Without looking. So I walk away without words.

I'm stuck in this spot. I have the key in the ignition. All I gotta do is twist and go. Can I do that? Yes I can. And yes, I will. As I've said a billion times before, get in and ride with me or get the fuck out of the way. Nobody has chosen the latter and I feel lucky for that. But they and I are waiting for me to twist and go. I can't be afraid to drive those miles. Here I go.

This Can't Possibly Be True.

A million times I've considered painting the walls with my brains, because sometimes it just makes perfect sense. I have a gun and I have bullets. I've even held it to my head once or twice. But I could never do that. I never *would* do that. I have too much life left to live.

A friend of mine chose to end her own life yesterday. I never even got to meet her. We were supposed to hang out in a couple weeks. This is fucking bullshit.

I've lost more people to suicide than any other cause. What really twists my mind the most is knowing how I have felt when I was ready to let go, yet I realized that I have so much to live for, and that there are so many people who care. I simply cannot fathom how any person could overlook that.

You know Adrienne, we were supposed to be meeting up in a few weeks when I come back to Detroit. We talked about how much fun we were going to have, have a few drinks, and plenty of laughs. You didn't even wait for that to happen. There's a part of me that refuses to believe that you won't be there when I come back, even though I know that I'm wrong. I'm gonna stare at that empty bar stool and keep my eye on the door, waiting for you to arrive. I'll even have a cold one and a shot waiting for you. It'll be there, just meet me.

Chaz, Tom, Almost Matt. Fuck you guys. You were all too strong for that shit. In my darkest moment I'm totally fucking gone, but I always find a good enough reason to live. Why couldn't you? I always said that before I would be prepared to die, I'd sooner move to the other side of the planet. That's kinda why I ended up on the other side of the country. Doing so has allowed me the opportunity to see things from a distant perspective, and I'm glad that I did.

But rather, you didn't have the guts. You didn't have the belief that there could be somebody, just ONE person out there that could identify with your pain and make you feel if only for a moment that you weren't alone. I could have done that for you. But you didn't even call me. Fuck you. You should have at least called me. You knew that if you called me that I would convince you to believe that shit sucks sometimes, but you're awesome and could muscle through it anyway. You didn't even give me the chance to do that.

I don't know what else to say, but I'm torn apart right now. The people who appear to be the most stable are often the ones who need the most help. Keep your eyes peeled, friends, and open your heart and your mouth when you see a person in need. You could be the difference between talking to someone on the phone or in a fucking casket.

Personal Discretion is Advised

The following blog has been rated R for adult language, adult content, nudity, substance abuse, audacity, tenacity, crassness, reality checks, and blatant honesty.

Please remove the children from the room.

I got pulled over today on my way home from work. The officer was respectful to start, as I always am to an officer of the law, provided the respect is mutual. He asked me if I had any weapons in the car.

"I have a folding pocket knife clipped to my right pants pocket. I should mention though, that I don't carry it for use as a weapon. I carry it for use as a tool... not a weapon."

Let me mention that I had a bad day, and the only way to remedy a bad day is to force laughs. To force a laugh with a cop is sheer recklessness, but  my "Fuck It" face was already on.

"Are there any other weapons in the vehicle?"

"Yes sir."

[officer grips his holstered pistol, awareness heightened]

"What kind of weapon do you have?"

"I can't tell you that sir."

"Where is your weapon?"

"It's in my pants."

"Step out of the vehicle, please."

I assured the officer that I have respect for lawmen and that I have no ill will. I made sure that he saw my hands at all times and that my movements were deliberate and slow, just to make him feel comfortable.

"I'd like you to SLOWLY and KINDLY remove your weapon and surrender it to me."

"I can't."

"You won't?"

"No, I CAN'T."


This made him nervous and unbutton his gun holster. He immediately doubted the trust that I had given him from the start.

"WHERE IS YOUR WEAPON?!"

"I told you sir, it's in my pants."

He withdraws his firearm and points it at my heart.

"Hand it over."

Traffic begins to slow on the highway, as commuters see a state trooper pointing a loaded gun at a guy with his hands in the air.

"I Can't, Sir!!!"

"WHY NOT?!"

"BECAUSE IT'S ATTACHED TO MY CROTCH. I assure you sir, I've used it many times before, I fully intend to use it again, but I ASSURE YOU that I will NOT use it on you. You're not my type."

He pauses. Ponders. Lowers his weapon. Looks down for a moment. Looks back to me to see the shit-eating grin on my face. His facial expression then matched mine.

"You fuckin' with me, boy?"

"The whole time, officer."

And then I bought him a beer.

I turned a bad day into a good day through the strength of laughter.

Hello, friends.

I got some stuff to say. Add me if and only if you have a curious ear. Come one, come all. This is my first entry.