Sleeping Pills and Payin Bills

I woke up this morning a bit confused. I've been having a really difficult time sleeping for the past two months, and now I'm so tired I'm finally willing to do something about it. I took two tylonol pm last night before i went to bed hoping that it would knock me out for the entirity of the night. Didn't work. I woke up in the middle of the night simply feeling drowsy and in the midst of a really bad dream. It was set in surgery, only I was the patient. There was something wrong with my heart so the doctors put me under and started working. The only problem was, I wasn't sedated enough and as they cut me open and spread my ribcage apart with their clamps, I could feel it all, the cutting and the cracking of my bones, and the open-air beating of my heart. My eyes were stuck open the whole time, I was paralized so I couldn't move or scream. I just lay there afraid and in pain. I managed to fall back asleep, but morning came much to quickly. The pills hadn't worn completely off by the time I had to get up and pull myself into my cloths for work. I was late, of course, and everybody was running around, but I was just strolling initially, like I was in my own world. I got a bit faster as time moved on and people started losing patience with me. I didn't really care though. People have been snapping at me a lot lately and I'm stomaching it, just not letting it get to me. Usually it really does bother me when someone is displeased with me. I want to be a pleaser, but part of me is aware that I can't and that it shouldn't be my sole priority.

I ended up working harder today than I ever had before. I just zoned out and did my job without personal feeling and hesistation. I ended up making more than I've ever made there before too. That was nice. I ended up treating myself to a dinner out for a change. I've been living off of soup and scraps for a really long time now. Viking and I went to Las Palmas. We talked, but my meal didn't fill me up. I even went to town on the chips and nothing. After that we went over to his place and he and Joey and I watched The Wonder Years. I love and hate that show all at the same time. It's a beautiful show that was a huge part of my childhood, but I think I took far too much female advice from Kevin Arnold than I should have. I hold him directly responsible for all my failures;) But it was good. Now I'm just listening to music and waiting for these pills to kick in. Yeah, I'm trying again, but this time a little earlier. Maybe the pills will have a chance to ware off by morning. Maybe they will keep me asleep this time through. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day though. I'm scheduled to work an 11 hour shift. That'll be interesting. Can I make it? We'll see. Peace and love.

What I Shall be in a Year

My mind was spent today in settling around what all has just happened in my life. What does it all mean? I'd like to think that getting a job is the final solution to all of my problems, but they will only increase after this, that's for sure. I think of it sort of like standing in line at a theme park. I've been in this line to get to the tallest waterslide in the park and it's hot and it involves stairs. But I've been in this line for four years, and all I can think about is getting to the top and having my turn at the slide. But now, with this job, I am at the top. I'm standing at the peak of this slide, and for the first time, I'm looking down. It's scarry down there and full of random twists and turns. It's dark too. But I'm going. I do this in the name of progress. I feel that stagnance is wrong, and that is what my life will become if I stay in Nashville. It will become passive and comfortable and wrong.

What I am about to do is uncomfortable and uncertain, but that is the key to growth, and I desperately wish to grow. I mean yeah, it will be hard for me to leave my friends, but we have strong friendships and I know we will all keep in touch. It just has to be done.

So to the uncertain times ahead... What I shall be in a year is a mystery. Peace and love.

Some Crazy Events

Some crazy events happened today:

I drove to Raleigh and visited with my sister.
I looked around the town at neat places, some of which I might choose to live near.
(I took it as a sign, literally, when I went to "Cameron Village" by taking "Smallwood Rd". That's two people that I know from Belmont...)
I carefully considered my future
I quite possibly got a job doing that thing I've been studying all these years
I watched The Fountain with my dad
I had a pizza and watched some movie I can't remember the name of with Brandon
I'm tired

Who knows what I'll do tomorrow. I sure don't.

Peace and love

The Road and its Memories

I've never been too fond of the drive from Nashville to High Point, or the other way around. I set off yesterday at about 11:30, though, to once again make the trek. But it wasn't as bad as it usually is. I've had a really hard time keeping time in an actual frame. I can't remember what day it is, nor can I even predict what time it might possibly be. This can be a useful tool when driving. If you concentrate really hard on NOT knowing what time it is, time goes by much faster. But anyways, I stopped off in Asheville as my half-way point as I usually do. More specifically, I stopped off at Montreat College to drop in on Andy. I really enjoy spending time with he and his friends whenever I can. They are such a creative group of people, it is inspiring just being around them. But I had only planned on staying for an hour, an hour that soon turned into the entire night. The clencher was when we picked up instruments and started jamming, which led to talking, which led to more jamming, which eventually led to chips and salsa? Yes, chips and salsa. So then Andy informed me of a plan they had previously made to go to the two dollar Brew-n-View Theater in town to see a double feature and have some nice beer to go along with it. I, naturally desiring some sort of random activity in my life, decided to go along with their idea, and I set for leaving really early in the morning to compromise. The movie, in short, was great. It was a B film called "Grind House" and was produced by the same guy who did "Sin City". Then the next flick after that was called "Death Proof" which was another B film directed by Quinton Terrantino (I know I didn't spell that right). Both were fabulously hillarious movies that I really couldn't see enjoying any other way than with friends in a loose environment after having a couple of beers.

So then there was the next morning. I meant to wake up at 5am so that I could get back to High Point by 8am, so I could make it to my car inspection by 8:30... but my alarm didn't go off... and I woke myself up at 7:30... Oops! So I didn't rush or anything, I just walked out, got in the car, and left, accepting that I would be late, but formulating a plan to call in, postpone my time, and come in later. It worked for the most part, so that's what I did. But then I went in actually get the car inspected and the guy said that my front right light (the one still broken from the buss accident in September) couldn't pass inspection being broken. So I was set back and discouraged and began to call around to the salvage yards to find the same part. Nobody had it. So then I got the clever idea to go home, take my mom's off of her car, put it on mine temporarilly, go back in to have the car inspected, pass the inspection, and then return the light. Turns out... it worked. The car is now good for another year.

But Brandon also comes over. I haven't seen him since Christmas, so we did our catching up and then we got a movie. That marks the fourth time that I've seen Pan's Labarynth. What a great flick. Then I ate dinner. This marks the first official time that my dad and I have had a beer together. That was enjoyable. I feel more relaxed now that I can have one with the old man. Turns out he's got good taste in beer too.

The rest of the night was spent catching up with friends. High Point is such a strange place to me. It's full of small changes, but then there rests the obvious familiarities. The memories are everywhere. I thought about Phill and Becca, and all of the high school memories. Though I miss all of those people and things, I recognize that I've come a long way, and I'm slightly proud of that fact. I feel real and I feel like I could go somewhere. That's a good feeling to have, especially in the midst of so much discouragement while seeking employment.

Tomorrow is the big Raleigh adventure day. Wish me luck. Peace and love.

Clouds and Space

I was floating in the pool tonight, completely tuned out of the social interaction happening around me. I was just floating and thinking, looking up at the cloudy night sky. It's ambiguous in a way. You can't tell what is cloud and what is empty space except for the occasional star to break the secret. But "ambiguitiy" seemed to be a very descriptive word of where my mind was sitting. It's the future, these next few months of immense change that are both inspiring and frightening. I don't really know what to make of it all other than my emotions are still not fully engaged in the reality that I will soon be leaving this life forever and moving on to a new one. All in all, that's really the way it is. Very little will physically follow me into this next place, and my relationships will be distanced, only held together by memory, photographs, facebook, and hardwire. It's no surprise that I'm not quite sure how to feel about things yet. I do have one dominating feeling. Bravery, cold and clear bravery. I've always been relatively good at goodbyes. I spend more of my time these days thinking about tomorrow moreso than I think about yesterday or even today. I suppose labeling myself as "brave" is conceited. It is usually not one's own say in the matter of being brave, but the judgement of the people around him or her. It is, however, the feeling that I reffer to. I feel as if I am ready to take the challenges head on. I know the reality of my situation which is that there is nothing outside of meaningful friendships left for me in this place. And as unfortunate as it is, life is more complex than my satisfaction with relationships. There are bills to be payed, deadlines to be met, and potentials to be realized, and I believe that those of us who choose to remain stagnant and unchanging in the midst of our present comforts, wave away more substance in our lives than we can even conceivably be aware. Again, this is my fatalistic perspective speaking once more of "potential" and "missing the train". My convictions, of which I am regaining focus on, would never allow me rest if I were to stay here and embrace valet or a bank job. But for these last two months, I wish to make the most of the time spent here. I'm not quite sure of what that means yet, but I know that when I do finally leave, my emotions will be much more difficult to ignore.

Peace and love

Fatalist Frustration

I'm still doing and saying things that don't quite fit my description of who I view myself to be. I bet that's a common problem with lots of folks, not to make excuses or anything. It's been on my mind a lot lately, achieving the kind of manhood that I would desire for myself. In my mind it is a pure form, but then all of these worldly messages get mixed in with it and I lose my aim. I think the most difficult one to face is attacking the very motivation I have of bettering myself. It is the message of "just be who you are, chalk your mistakes up to human error, nobody is perfect." It sounds like wise advice, but is it? I mean are mistakes okay in any other field of life, and should making them be considered a norm. Now I'm certainly not going to beat myself up for the mistakes I have made in the past other than the pain I might face by learning from them, but I'm also certainly not going to write my past off completely. There is a middle ground here somewhere, I just have to find it. Right now I feel like I have very few allies, very few people who see my desire as anything more than simple and shallow self-righteousness. I would hope my friends would know better than to think that of me. But so many people are buying into that message. So many people are giving up on faith because of what other people have done or because of thier intellect teaching them that existence is far too complex for a loving God. It seems to me like no one wants to step up to the plate and say "To Hell with what other people have done. This is the faith I believe in, and I'm going to be true to it." Thus, it all seems like a cop-out. A wonderfully elaborate and seemingly well backed excuse to just give up, pack up and do whatever the hell we want without feeling like we might be missing out on something greater. Think of all the benefits... Sleep in on Sunday! Uh... do crazy stuff with numbed sense of guilt! Uh... Don't worry about finding the answers anymore! Uh... Sleep in on Sunday! After all, we know best, don't we?

Perhaps my problem is that I'm a fatalist... sort of. I see fate as a possibility or potential, but not a slated outcome. I think we can miss the train. I think many of us do as we chase fleeting things like women and money and all of those things that we know deep in our inner being, but would never admit, fail to give us fulfillment. I don't want to miss my highest potential because I'm curious of what that might be. What was I truly designed for? That is what drives me forward.

So I'm frustrated with myself. We, in our society, act like it's such a negative thing to be frustrated with ourselves. Again, we're pretty much always right in whatever we do, so why should we ever feel frustrated or guilty? I see self-frustration as a healthy motivator and teacher given in moderation. In fact, reflecting on one's mistakes can be the greatest motivator of all. So in my frustration, I'm going to find a way through it. It will hurt and I might make even more mistakes, but I'm willing to learn from them, and I'm willing to keep pressing forward.

I think that the greatest reason as to why we give up on our highest spiritual goals is because it is almost just as hard for us to find someone who HAS reached those goals as it is for us to reach them ourselves.

Peace and love.

Breath

Looking back, my journals have had the tendancy to be rather selfish. I'm always talking about some arbitrary "drama" in my life that has me at a loss. But today I did a good bit of thinking. I don't know, I suppose it really started last night. Actually... it happened as a result of a series of events.

Now I have the disposition to think on a regular basis. It's what I like to do when nothing else is going on. Sometimes, especially lately, my life gets full of clutter, hum, and buzz. It is during those times that my deep thinking is few and far between. I am medicated to an extent by flashing lights, sudden bursts of harmonic sounds, and different interesting smells and flavors. It is very "instnatanious" living, I think would be the best way to describe it. But my ascention back to a level of higher thought actually began in my voice lesson training on Tuesday. My instructor was teaching me about the correct method by which to breath. He explained that as infants we breath correctly, letting air into our lower abdomon which allows our stomach to rise. It is only after cultural inflections on how we should carry ourselves that we learn to breath in the wrong manner. We start to suck air into our chests, heaving up and down. I think having asthma growing up only made it worse. If there were anything that would make you heave air into your chest, it would be asthma. So basically, I breath wrong. Now for the past two days, I've really been focusing on retraining myself. I've gone above and beyond what he asked me to do. I didn't feel like achieving correct breathing whenever I drove in my car would amount to any reasonable experience at all. So I've been pretty much constantly focused on it, which has been driving me a bit crazy, but I'm making progress. What I'm finding is that when I breath with my stomach, I can't get the full amount of air that I would like without stretching discomfort in my abs. I realize, however, that this is simply a result of me having not breathed properly in almost 22 years (if ever, considering asthma). But today I managed to make much greater strides in my breathing than yesterday, so I shall continue until it is no longer a mental effort. If anything, it is relaxing to just focus on how you breath. I learned that last night. I picked up Viking's "Tai Che for Dummies". He said he wanted to get into it, but he had never bothered to read it before, so I borrowed it from him simply because I was intrigued. I started reading from it last night and it discussed the basic principles of Tai Che. The first and foremost principle is tranlated as the "Ultimate Superior" and is... breathing correctly. It is, and I kid you not, the exact same principle of breathing as one would learn to sing well. This held my interest so I began to read on. It said that it's primary focus was on mindful movement. It teaches you to think out your body's movements and coordinate them with correct breathing to develope the most energy efficient, relaxing, and natural forms of movement. After taking in some of the readings and then matching it to my own posture and form, I realized that I really am "up tight". I mean I've had people tell me that before, but I never thought much of it. So for the most of today I was working on matching my movements to efficient breathing. Basically, when ever you move out, you exhale, and when ever you pull in, you inhale. Try it for a while, you'll see what I'm talking about. Just slow movement with deep breaths.

So then tonight I decided to go to the coffee shop, get some tea, and read for a while. I started reading from my sociology textbook. I took from that mostly that the world is screwed up, not following the most peaceful and cooperative of practices in humanity. I also gathered that a great deal of what Karl Marx had to say wasn't stupid, but rather missunderstood by overzealous cult leaders like Lennon and then spread to the rest of us as such. But that reading lasted for as long as I could tolerate. Whenever I read things like that my mind tends to wander around aimlessly lamenting the world's problems until I fall so deep into hopelessness that the weight of it leads me to put the book down. So, to cope, I picked up the next book I have to (or rather 'want to') read by Donald Miller entitled "Searching for God Knows What". Out of all of the books I have ever read, this author, to me, is the most identifiable to how I think and feel. That's not to say that he's right all of the time, but then, neither am I. I just like reading a book that articulates exactly what I feel while at the same time realizing that it has sold several copies because he and I aren't the only ones who think and feel this way. But I read about a chapter while the coffee barista feverishly cleaned the shop as if to convey a message that I, as a working class citizen, clearly understand. "Will you please leave so that I can go home early." I felt obliged to comply, so I sucked back the last cup of tea, hopped back on my bike, and peddled to the only peaceful outdoor area I know of, the Belmont quad. When I got there it was teaming with little Christian camp kids. Some would argue that these are the most moniacle breed of pre-teens. Ironically, everywhere they go they are followed by destruction. But I still managed to find a peaceful spot amidst the chaos at the base of the mansion. On the steps I pulled out the book and began reading again. I was sucked in for a while, occasionally stopping to contemplate what I had just read or to regroup my focus after some random pre-teen male yolping at the moon. But it was still peaceful. It wasn't until the call for all the kids to go to bed that the real peace began. At that time, it was about 11pm. I made my way down to a low-branched magnolia tree and found a comfortable position at it's feet. I closed my eyes, sat there peacefully, correcly breathing, and holding deep prayer and contemplation. I dare not say "meditating" because if I were to use that word, it would be assumed that I was opening myself up to evil spiritual influence (at least from a conservative Christian standpoint). But I was sitting quietly and reflectively under that tree, which is a longer way to say the "m" word, but remains theologically acceptible. It was great though. When I was done I felt so relaxed and at peace. It was almost like waking up from a deep refreshing sleep, but not. And the prayer felt more intimate and focused too. In short, I enjoyed it, and perhaps there is something to this calming breathing and mindful movement. I mean think about what kind of a society we live in. Our busy and synthetically dramatic lives hardly ever make time for us to be calm and still. It is a valuable skill to learn.

Peace and love.

Truth

It was another one of those days where I wake up and I feel compelled to accomplish as much as I can before bed. For instance, I cleaned out my car today for the first time since the fifth of December. Needless to say, it was a mess. After that and many other errands, I found myself in vocal lessons. That's right, I'm taking vocal training. I was concerned at first, because I didn't know how a trainer would be able to communicate anything to me, but this guy knows his stuff. He has me sing and then he just watches my posture and breathing and mouth formations. He's given me good advice thus far. He really thinks he can improve me drastically in the next ten weeks. After that, I've got piano lessons, which I am also excited about. I've always wanted to learn the piano because I think it would be a much more superior writing tool for me than just the guitar.

I came home and relaxed for a while before I went to sociology class. My professor is in his early thirties. His name is Dr. Ken Spring, a graduate from Vanderbilt who has no appearance that would lead you to believe he is a doctor. He wears jeans and has a nose piercing with tatoo sleeves. He also just happens to be a professional BMX racer. He's very passionate about sociology though. He raises some interesting discussion topics. I reflected tonight on how far I have come from freshman year to now. I used to get so offended when people would say things I considered to be ignorant and unchristian. But now I listen more than I speak. I try to gather a full understanding of the feelings of the majority before I try and address the issue. It can be depressing though. Nobody believes in any matter of truth anymore. Postmodernism has convinced the developed world that there is only relativity. There is nothing worth putting all of your faith in. To do such is considered barbaric and ignorant. There is also a great deal of animosity against Christianity. I understand why. Christians have been so dominating and opressive with their beliefs for so many generations. But it bothers me that people lump Jesus in with their Christian enemy. I feel bad that we have represented Him so poorly. Perhaps something might happen that would convince this world that there are some things worth putting all of your faith in. Peace and love.

The Bottom Rung

I haven't written much in a while. I've been doing a lot of thinking and partaking in quite a bit of action though. I'm trying to level out from this tail-spin that I hit as soon as school ended. Moving, careers, future... what does it all mean? Then there's the realization that, as far as this world is concerned, I don't mean much at all. For instance, Mitch and I both took a motorcycle safety course over the weekend. it was one of the most fun things I've done in a while, and it was very informative.


The first pic is of me strattling a Honda Rebel. It was an older bike, but it had a lot of character. Mitch is the second pic, and he's holding on to a Honda CBR250X. I think that's what it's called at least. It was a standard bike that handled and sounded a lot different from mine. Again, we had a lot of fun, and after we were done, I went to get my motorcycle license. That was to be the next step before I could look at getting a motorcycle. So on Monday morning I pushed time limits to the max. I went and got my license and then went to look at motorcycles. I test drove a beautiful Honda Shadow 750DC, basically my dream bike. It handled well and I filled out all the paperwork for it. Then the guy came out and said they couldn't sell it to me because I haven't been in the workforce long enough and I have student loans lined up behind me. Reality sets in. Financially I mean nothing in this world. I'm small again. Just like all of those freshman years I spent working my way up from the bottom rung.

So now I have to fight. I have to work my way up from the bottom rung again. I went home slightly discouraged, but not enough to deter me from making some sort of a game plan. I started looking for better jobs in the area. Thus far I have the bank job going for me, and a possibility at a car dealership. I know what you're thinking. Car dealership? Yes, me too at first. But then I thought about my personality and my skills. I could not only do it, but do it well. I'm still looking for audio work though. That is my true career ambition. Maybe even audio sales, who knows.

But I guess college prepared me to handle these stresses, not to be overwhelmed. I'm looking for a good job and as for the bike, Mitch and I have decided to go Ebay. We want to see if we can find a bike that needs some attention. It would be good for us to learn bike mechanics before we start riding. We can potentially get one for around a hundred bucks off some guy that can't tell the trottle from the kickstand. That's the current idea at least. I've got my eye on a bike from NC and one from IL. If the bid stays low enough, Mitch and I will go halvsies on it and then drive over (or up) to get it.

Start small in this world, and work your way up. It's an age old lesson that I've been quite good at thus far. I've never let it get me down before, and though this step will certainly take much longer than the ones in the past, I feel like I can take it. I have faith that God has some grand purpose for all of this. But it's hard being a man of action and not knowing where or how to act. Patience plays a neglected role in my life. It always has. I accredit a that characteristic to a great deal of my success, and also a great deal of my failures. But I'll learn to be efficient with it and to strengthen that weakness. I'm also going to learn how to live under even lower standards than before and how to work harder than before.

That's all I've got in me for now. Peace and love.

The Last Day of the Ye Olde Pembroke House

It was one of the roughest days I can recall. Starting at about nine thirty we worked towards our deadline of being out of our house by six or seven o'clock tonight. We started well rested and full of confidence that we would make it, but as the hours continued it became clear that there was much more work involved in getting that house ready than we had anticipated. The reason we were cleaning is because we really wanted our $2000 deposite back and also we didn't want to pay a $150 cleaning fee. We had several friends come and help us. Stuffy and Weeman came, and Burly dropped by for a good while too. It really was fun, now that I think about it, exhausting, but fun. So what time did we actually finish? Just now. It's 1:34am. I just walked into my room and sat down at my computer. I didn't have much difficulty leaving the house. There was one really quick moment while I was listening to Coldplay's "Scientist" that I had an urge to cry, but it went just as fast as it came. I think I'm just too tired to think about how I feel right now. It was a good home though. That's what made it enjoyable. It wasn't the landlords or the lack of climate control, or the spiders and mice. It was the people who lived there that made that house worth while. We all hugged as we put stood behind the dark house for one last time. While the guys went to get the truck for the last load in, I also went to each room and remembered all the worthwhile things that happened in each one for me. They were a good two years.

Now the hard part is going to be tomorrow morning. I have to wake up at 6:30 to be at a 9 hour meeting at 8. I also must leave straight from there to go to a four hour class. I'm going to be sitting all day tomorrow is what that means. The four hour class will be good though. It's motorcycle training! I'm really excited about that, and that's where I'll be all weekend if you're wondering. Now it's time for a beer, a shower, and then bed. Peace and love.