Another Page of Something Different:

Another Page of Something Different:

So, every once and awhile, I like to step away from the usual contents of this blog and post something a little more personal. I think, with as much as I've been addressing the general issue with vulnerability, with an unwillingness to bring soul to conversation, this is all the more appropriate. So, without further delay and plenty of adieu, here you are. Don't say you haven't been warned.

____________________________

Where the fuck I was seemed entirely irrelevant. Much like most products of my time, I'd never had a taste for honest work. Unlike many of the math equations trying to pass off as people, I wasn't content for simply being. It was how I'd come to get lost in streets I probably should have recognized. It was entirely on purpose, a representation of who I was, even if I was too out of my mind to admit it. You see, that was the real problem. I was in love with being lost, with the notion of being gone, and, as I hobbled down cobbled streets I, I had no real choice but to admit this to myself in some kind of blind panic.

I tried to warn people of my blunders, to not get so hung up on love they went chasing it down every rabbit hole known to man, but it was clear it was a lost cause. I could shake all the lapels I wanted, wrap my arms around any calves that passed me at eye level, and it wouldn't have mattered. I was a stranger smack dab in the middle of Generation Stranger Danger. I was completely naked to these people and running around like some, slack jawed, completely intelligible, aquatic creature. To them, I was trying to move my vocal chords like they'd spent a lifetime underwater. To them, I was the most terrifying thing they'd ever seen.

This wasn't terribly inaccurate mind you. As I said, I was someone who identified with being lost. This is not the kind of philosophy most people can attach themselves too, even in the most addled of states. This is a world where the very concept of emotion had been replaced by comfort. This was a world where the idea of adventure had been perverted into safe little jaunts barely outside the circumference of known restaurants. This was a world where everyone was a boogeyman, where everyone was expected to wear armor, and the only safe way to exist was inside of what you knew.

I didn't fit in this world and I knew it.

It was how I'd come to be here, face down on the sidewalk and rather enjoying the view. It was a subjective vantage that made things make sense. I saw the world in strange angles. I spent a considerable portion of myself trying to right this with drugs and alcohol, only to realize I was trying to bail out a sinking ship with a shot glass. I'd come to know this about myself and, just as importantly, I'd come to stop caring about it. I was, as they say, comfortably fucked.

It felt all the more appropriate, even as I was surrounded by blurred reflections obscured by the glass etchings of buildings desperate to be noticed.  I was, or so it seemed to me, in a place that most people worked very hard to be in their lives. I was uncomfortable but placated just enough by the trinkets and baubles I was willing to accept. I was going through the motions of a life I wasn't living. The only difference, near as I could tell, was that I was actually happy with it -- and I think that should have been the first sign that there was a real problem.

Now, however, was not the time to address such things. Now was the time to raise brown paper bags to tired lips. Now was the time to wander dark alleys and bumble out into the neon trying so desperately to convince you this tired town had some kind of life. Now was the hour when you heard muffled bastardizations of Journey and Lynyrd Skynyrd. Now was the time when you knew, if you didn't make it into a bar quickly, there was going to be an issue between you and the bartender over whether or not you'd made it to last call or not. Now was the time when you knew, even with the traveler of Wild Turkey in your hand, you were really going to need another drink.

It's always been my favorite hour of the evening, even if only because it was chalked so full of disingenuous courage. It's the hour where everyone loves everyone or everyone fights everyone. It's Extreme O'Clock, the place where emotions run raw and ragged. It's the time of day when everyone revisits the dog eared pages of their own history, where everyone chooses to embrace or run from it. It's the time of night where the only people left are the ones so mad drunk on wanting that there's nowhere left to go but up to eleven. It's the one time of day where I make any kind of sense when I look at my environment.

It's how I go home.

Even the smoke filled room, with some neglected canine bellowing out a cover of Baba O'Riley from somewhere deep within doesn't shake the feeling. I know, no sooner than I see the spastic shakes of someone trying to find rhythm after one too many Appletinis, that I have found my place. I know, even as I snake my way through the slathering masses of excited and desperate hands, even as I'm forced to kick away the refuse with a bad leg that groans about the impending winter, I have found my place. Its oscillation matches my own and, at least for right now, it's somewhere I can probably find myself a drink.

"You can't bring that in here." No sooner had I hit the bar than the gruff and tumble voice of someone hit by times too hard to afford decent cigarettes punched my ears. I looked up to see that my brown of sacred sanity was not going to be accepted here. His eyes said it all. There was no point in fighting it and clearly there was going to be trouble. Even so drunk it was hard to see, I could work the math. I knew, that if I didn't act quickly, any chance I had of getting myself something sanitary was going to drop to zero.

"What if I leave it behind the bar with you?" I still sounded like a fish but, with the sound of the music, it seemed like it was hard to tell. There was a brief pause where it seemed my logic had struck a nerve and, I knew, I had to jump on it. "It's not like you can afford to turn me away." I added quickly. "I'm the kind of customer who keeps small towns like this floating."

There was a dry chuckle, almost like the emotional side of his beard covered chords hadn't been used since prohibition. "That a fact? How's that?"

"You ever seen a drunk who didn't have to piss every five minutes?"

The laugh that followed was as alien as I was in this room. Nobody heard it, nobody saw it, largely because nobody wanted to -- and because I was still nobody at that moment. He didn't say anything as the wounded dog got off the stage and was promptly replaced with some large bird that hard clearly done too much methamphetamine. Even though I couldn't see her through the buzzing lights that wanted to convince you this bar was something you saw in a movie once, I was certain her teeth weren't the only thing rotten about her.

"You better hurry up and make up your mind. Nobody can be expected to survive this kind of thing sober." I tried to grease the chute that would land me somewhere higher and lower simultaneously.

"You're not sober." He fired back with a knowing look. He'd clearly been at this for awhile, which should have been evident by the tattoos on his arm that looked like someone had spilled a glass of grape juice on a fresh watercolor painting.

"I'm too sober for this." I countered with the very last chip I had to play. "Now, if you're not going to serve me, you're going to have to let me know man. I've got things to outrun and I can't reasonably be expected to do with what I have here. So, you can either take my bottle and serve me a triple gin on the rocks, or I can go somewhere else."

There was a small moment of trumpeting from my insides when he took my paper bag and sat it behind the bar and started pouring my drink plus change. Two pint glasses, half full of ice, and poured generously with the clear liquid of my salvation. He sat them in front of  me with barely a word until he'd taken my money and helped himself to the change.

"What're you trying to outrun anyway?" He asked me flatly, the song dying down somewhere in the background, probably because the caterwauling woman was too drunk to see the prompter.

"Myself." I answered honestly, slugging down the first glass without a shred of hesitation.

"And how's that working out for you?"

"Just fine." I swallowed the second glass, shaking my head as the alcohol and juniper punched me square in the back of the throat. I was going to be sick in the morning. That was just fine, it wasn't any different than how I felt if I'd been drinking or not. I'd barely make it to the bathroom sober before I'd have to catch my reflection in the vanity mirror. There was enough there to make me sick and that said nothing of what happened as soon as I look up the window. "Why're you asking?"

"Never seen anybody manage it before and you look like you're trying pretty hard." He made  a face when I waved for my paper bag, but I gave him a nod for the door as I awkwardly stumbled onto the plywood of the floor from the comfort of my bar stool. He seemed to understand I was leaving and handed it to me. I probably should have left then and there, but the honest nature of a moment of clarity isn't the kind of thing you can ignore.

"I manage it all the time." I fired with a smirk, the good hand snatching the bar like it was the last cheeseburger on the planet.

"Oh yeah?" The question was smug, like he'd finally managed to decipher the full dictionary of my drunken language -- or my pantomimes were getting better -- but he was was still sure he'd heard it before. "How's that?"

I pulled the bottle back to my lips for an equally smug haul, despite his earlier, non-verbal, warnings.

"You've just got to talk yourself into the fact that forgetting who you are is a good idea and agree that you're not going to remember until you wake up."

"And how's that feel?" He asked with a smug grin and a wave of beefy hand toward the open door.

"About like a hangover." And, with that, like always happened, I was back out into the night. I was revisiting those dog eared pages of myself with an inability to read the words on the page. I was stumbling down streets I might have been on hundreds of years ago.  I was right where I needed to be and, by the end of the night I was staring up at the sky by the edge of a river.

I was drunk on strange feelings in a strange place. Tomorrow was going to hurt and I'd need to replenish much of what I'd lost. It was going to be like every other tomorrow, whether I'd been drunk the night before. I could take comfort in that, I could let it be the most human thing I'd ever been, and, like it or not, I was ready to wake up screaming. It was the same way I'd come into the world and, in very different way, those two days would have something in common.

I'd be ready to fall in love with the world all over again.

Unpopular Words for an Unpopular Time:

Unpopular Words for an Unpopular Time: 

And the separation of me, you, and everyone we know

Dear World, Dear America,

It's been a rough year and a busy one to be sure. It's a political year, chalked full of issues we all want to have something to say about, a year bursting at the seams with hashtags and social injustices. The times we live in are brimming with rage and apathy, stuffed to the gills with heartache and loss, and they've seen the death of hope in many hearts and minds of the global peoples. There have been high points, as there often are in times like these but, being unfortunately honest with you my readers, they've been cast in a long shadow by everything else we've been dealing with -- and I'm here to tell you the one thing that you probably don't want to hear.
 

Maybe you're one of the gun toting people who thinks it's you're American right to own an automatic weapon and shoot Eagles out of trees, saving the day of freedom everywhere. Maybe you're a non gender binary, non cisgendered, person who is fighting and striving to see your like minded people's have a fair and fear free life. Maybe you're a completely average, white male who just wants to make your voice heard when you say you're not as bad as the internet would like to make you out to be. Maybe you think Donald Trump is the last great chance for America to be what it could be. Maybe you're a disenfranchised human who just doesn't understand how humans can act so inhumanly toward one another and you've just given up. It doesn't really matter and, much as I'm sure this isn't a very popular thing to say, but I'm going to say it anyway.

In my opinion, you're part of the problem.

 

Each and every one of the causes we're seeing in the modern world, be it gender, racial, sexual -- because gender and sexuality are not the same -- a right to own guns, and so on (because I'm not about to sit here and list out every issue, but obviously there's more), all seem to roughly stem from the same desire. We all want to be able to live the life we want, to be able to make our choices and not have fear of repercussion or reprisal because of the things we want to do that don't affect on anyone but ourselves. For the majority, I support this notion. If what you want to do is contained within your own personal microcosmos, do what you want. If it's between consenting individuals, do what you want. If it's a matter of personal identity, then you go for it.

That's not to say that some of these fights don't need to be taken up and held fast against things that would see them crumble. There are sects and sects of people who, on a global scale, are receiving treatment that barely qualifies as human. They're being judged based on things that they have no control over, that should hold absolutely no basis in human judgment in the first place. Nobody can argue the balance of justice is, quite frankly, nonexistent. There's a double standard on every street corner and that's wrong. There's a sense of, quite understandable, rage about it. It's got people out in the streets, it's got people throwing out hashtags on every social media platform, it's gotten celebrities -- who we, for whatever reason, seem to embody as the almighty voice of power even though it's us who put them there -- making elaborate speeches, and I don't think any of that inherently is a bad thing.

The spectrum of human behavior is no stranger to wickedness and selfishness. It's unfortunate that this is the case. It's unfortunate that we live in a world so mired by intolerance and judgment that it's getting people killed. It's unfortunate that these issues are so widespread, so tangled up in how we go about our daily lives, that there seems to be no escaping them. It's unfortunate that so many people see the only answer to the cause as being violence. It's unfortunate that, arguable as the position might be, we see the need to divide ourselves for the sake of safety. It's unfortunate that we live in a world so connected, where the wealth of joy, knowledge, and like minded people is right here at our fingertips and all we're doing is wasting it -- because that's exactly what we're doing.

 

Again, I don't disagree with the calls for justice in the world or the social uprising we've seen in support of them. I don't disagree with the calling out of a wrongness on any front, I don't disagree with any of you for wanting to point out the things your identified demographic has to struggle with as a result of how terrible people can be to one another. I think, at it's most basic of principles, it's good that we're calling out each other on our bullshit. I think, eventually, it stands a very good chance to make some real changes in how we treat one another, but I also think all of that fundamentally hinges on something that we're not doing -- and that's coming together.

I know it seems like that's exactly what we're doing. I know it seems like that, when you're seeing racially diverse groups of people up in arms over an issue, that maybe we're making progress. I know it looks great when you see straight people marching in a Gay Pride parade. I know it's great to see a man stand up for women's rights without using the hashtag of "Not all Men". I know it's great to see all these memes rolling around on the internet, being shared by everyone. I know it's great to see a communal voice shout out against the wrongness against a sect of people. Again, I think that it's good to have the callouts in place for shitty, inhuman, treatment between human beings. What I don't think however is that the answer we've chosen to direct this course of action is really being as beneficial as we'd all like to think it is.

The problems we're facing, we're choosing to face as and designate as a divide. Now, I understand why. I really do. It's important to highlight the reason the prejudice, bias, injustice, whatever, has occurred. If an issue was racially motivated, it deserves to have that brought to attention because being an asshole to people because of their ethnicity is a shitty thing to do. This applies unilaterally and without question. If you are going to judge, harm, or behave poorly to another human being because of something they are and not something they've done? You're an asshole. Plain and simple. You're being a substandard human. If you were to be given a modern day report card it would read "Needs improvement", because the world's too concerned with hand holding you to tell you that you're failing -- but that's another issue.

This isn't carte blanche to use your religion either, and you can go right ahead and shut the fuck up with that argument. I don't care which one you believe, it honestly doesn't matter, because that falls right in line with everything else. Your religion is your choice, it's the path you think is right in the world. It's the path that, to you, speaks to the way life should be and guarantees you some kind of reward for your behavior. Yes, I know there are extremist interpretations of religions out there in the world that say you've got the right to kill, maim, murder, and destroy that which doesn't agree with you and, if you're one of the people out there who thinks you've got some kind of divine mandate that means you've got to save the world from whatever your God, ideology, or belief tells you a sin is? You've got the right to try, to try and spread the word of your belief to the people who need it. It's what I'm sitting here doing right now. What you don't have the right to do however, is force that belief upon the world because then all you're doing is reinforcing the problem all over again.

And that, to be quite honest, is what I see the rest of us doing too.

We're approaching everything in this country (and seemingly globally if the news is any indicator) with this sectarian approach. Republicans and Democrats will shoot down ideas solely because they come from opposite camps rather than consider what would be for the good of everyone. Women who fight to have the voice of their struggles heard are being met with untold volumes of subhuman behavior. Unified countries are dividing over the support of the less fortunate. The African American community is seeing a counter-surge of White Supremacist culture, and the list goes on and on.  

 

For every hashtag on one end of the spectrum, we have another set of voices rising up as if to say "Hey, my voice counts too!". People want to stand up and say that they're not trying to separate the people from one another, that the point of the social justice movement isn't to further drive the wedge home, and I believe them. I believe, absolutely, that is not their intent. When someone says "#blacklivesmatter", they're in no way saying that white lives don't. Gay pride is not saying that straight people shouldn't be proud of knowing and being comfortable with their sexuality. YesAllWomen is not saying that all men are terrible garbage. I know that's not what's being said but, and here's the really important thing:

It's obviously what some people are hearing. 

 

This is not the fault of the causes, of the people who want equality, or who every right to stand up for the shit treatment they're getting out of the world. Nobody can blame an entire demographic that feels marginalized, mistreated, and so on, for wanting to stand up and say "Cut the bullshit, my people don't deserve to be treated like this." There's something in there though, something that I think fundamentally disconnects the argument of equality in the hearts and minds of so many people, and it's a very simple thing. It might not be a popular thing anymore, it might not be something you want to believe, it might be something that tears at the very core of your heart and soul -- because I know it does for me -- but that makes it nevertheless true.

 

Every single person on this planet, from the oldest of the old to babies born as I'm pounding out consonants on a keyboard, is one of your people. It's painful to swallow the notion that people who behave so contradictory to who we are deserve the same treatment as we'd want for ourselves. Isn't that what everyone wants though? Don't we all want to get through life following what we believe is right? Don't we all want to be happy, whatever that means to us? Doesn't everyone want a life free of persecution? Doesn't everyone want to be able to be who they are? Shouldn't we live in a world where that's not some social luxury only afforded to people who want to (or feel they must) divide into groups of like people and stand strong?

 

I get it too. I understand why that happens, I understand that the persecution is so strong it's the only way you can feel safe. It makes perfect sense. I don't even think it's unreasonable. I think it's unfortunate. I think it's not as productive as we'd like it to be, and I think that's because a further divide isn't the answer. The notion that we're different from one another is, at least to me, at the core of where so many of these issues come from. People see people differently based on things that are, or should be, completely irrelevant. Skin color, sex organs, the clothes on your back, the hands you hold, the lips you kiss, these aren't things that separate us -- or at the very least they shouldn't be.

I know this can be hard to reconcile, especially for the extremists in thought out there. I know because I'm one of them. I believe in the extreme potential of humanity. I believe we're better than this, despite all the evidence I see to the contrary. I know everyone wants to stand up and point out that everyone should be treated the same, that everyone has the right to be angry that they're not. I know that dark and awful things are happening on our city streets America. I know that some of us feel failed by our politicians. I know some of think that we should divide ourselves and defend our ideals to the death of the last man. I know some of us think that we've got to send loud and hard messages, that we've got to divide into a sectarian society or everything we are will just fall apart and get trampled underfoot. 

 

I hear you, people of the world. I really do. I know you're angry, I know you're sad. I know you're scared. I know you think, maybe rightly so, that your equality and freedom are getting set ablaze and stolen from you in the night. I know you're afraid of getting killed because of who you are, what job you've got, or any number of things. I know you're just trying to get through your days, that you just want to be who you are, love who you love, and believe what you believe. I want to encourage you to keep going. I want to tell you to get up tomorrow, to try for that balance and fairness in the world, to find a real equality among yourselves, but I also want to suggest that maybe you try something a little different since what we're doing doesn't seem to be working right now.

I want you to try and remember that we all share a world. I want you to try and remember that, while you might disagree with what someone thinks or does with their life, that's okay. I don't want to sit here and put qualifiers on it, to say that obviously that only applies so long as you're not hurting anyone, but I also want to believe that we inherently know that. None of us want to get shot. None of us want to get put down for what we believe or feel. None of us want to wake up in the morning wondering if we're going to die just for being who we are, it's bad enough just knowing that you might die just because your time is up. 

I want you to try and look at people who offend or disgust you because of their identity, and then forget about that identity. I want you to take everything about who you are and try and set it aside. I want you to try and go back to the basics. I want you to remember that we're all just trying to get through this world, that we're all trying to find something to love and hold tight when things get crazy. I want you to remember that your opinion isn't right just because it's yours. I want you to remember that you're beautiful. I want you to remember that you're part of a species that's left its planet and seen the stars. I want you to remember that we're going to be sharing the universe with ourselves forever. I want you to remember that you're human, and so is everyone else.

I want you to do something different than divide yourself. I want you to do something different other than choose to believe that we're just a bunch of groups trying to come together in a cosmos. I want you to do something other than think of yourself as a "_______". I want you to stop playing identity MadLibs. I want you to walk out your door and understand you're just as strange and special as everyone else. I want you to share love instead of hate. I want you to share tolerance instead of intolerance, share hugs instead of fists, and do something else with yourself other than perpetuate the idea that we're all different. Sure, we all like different food. Sure we all might not like the same things. Sure, maybe we feel threatened by what we don't like even, but, let's be real for a minute.

We've never faced a threat we couldn't overcome when were unified. Not one. Again, we've been to space. We've, as a species, as a global society, been to a place where everything in the world can and will kill you if anything goes wrong. Right now, the biggest threat we're being faced with is the constant sense of divide we're building for ourselves. So, while you might be a "minority" or maybe you're one of the "lucky few", it doesn't matter. It's imperative at this point that, if we're going to survive this meteor of our own shit we've got coming our way, the only way we're going to do it is to let go of this idea that identity and opinion are matters of adversity worthy of killing for.

You are not a blank. You are not a religion. You are not an idea. You are not any one thing. You're a human being. While maybe, to you, it matters what language you speak or what part of the world you or your ancestors hailed from. Maybe, to you, it matters who a person loves or what they believe happens to them when they die. Maybe, but, at the end of the day? We're all exactly the same. We're wild, crazy, creatures who are trying to see our bellies and hearts full. We're people who want to believe our life has meaning, and we want to find people to share that with. 

 

It's the philosophy of the human experience: We're all just striving to find connections in the madness -- so how about we stop taking that away from each other? How about we wake up to a world full of humans and leave it at that? How about we stop trying to be so different from each other and just let each other be? How about you stop being a thing, an ideal, a religion, a preference, or an opinion? How about you realize that you're not better than anyone else by being different but rather by being loving an accepting of everyone -- even the people you disagree with? How about it World, do you think you can give it a go?

 

What if I tell you I love you and ask real nice? Could you try then? Please? Because I really do love what you could be. I really do believe you can get past a the point where we're shooting each other every day. I really do believe we can  get past the point where we feel justified in treating each other in subhuman fashions. I believe it for you, even if you don't right now, but please, please, try World -- because none of us are immune to what's happening to you.

Here's hoping tomorrow works for all of us. Here's hoping that, tomorrow, we might need less hashtags. Here's hoping that tomorrow people won't get killed for being who they are or having the jobs they have. Here's hoping that tomorrow's a day full of love for everyone. Here's hoping that everyone gets treated fairly, that justice is actually just, and that nobody feels the need to be afraid to go outside.

Sincerely yours, with a heart full of dwindling hope and a want to believe,

A Human, just like you.

The hard notion at dawn

The hard notion at dawn:

A tale of black rabbits and the fortune of being human.

 

Sometimes, it seems, that being human is downright unreasonable. We're limited creatures, with limited means, limited time, and limited energy, yet we're hardwired to want to experience everything. It's impossible on the best of days, yet there's really no way to quell the hunger. It expands, it consumes, it always wants more. More what? More experiences, more memories, more moments we can hang onto in the withering hours of our physical selves. It's a maddening proposition -- and it's one of the best things about being human.

Death unquestionably underlines this sensation. It's a stark reminder of our frailty, that there may come a day when we realize there are moments missed, feelings we never expressed, and strangers we didn't get to know at parties. The rabbit represents everything left unchecked on our bucket list, it's the lovers we lost or, worse still, the ones we never found the courage yet to pursue. To put it in its most simplest form, it is regret.

In death, or simply in the day to day that follows (and it always does), it's easy to point out the futility, easy to latch onto the fear of uselessness. Everything dies and nobody can do everything, so what then becomes the point? Why take risks? Why put yourself out there, with your heart on your sleeve? Why take any chances on anything at all? The question of why becomes relentless and, again, that's one of the best things about being human.

The 'Why' is the drive. It's the question worth answering every time it pops up. Why take risks? Take risks because it's the only way to find out what's out there. Why put yourself out there with your heart on your sleeve? Do it because you just might forge some real magic. Why take chance on anything? You never know what could happen if you do and, to highlight the worst point of all, you might one day find yourself wishing you had.

It's not unreasonable to be afraid. The world we live in rarely lends itself well to this kind of optimism. People will burn you, betray you, even accidentally, and you can be damn sure a good number of them will disappoint, disgust, or otherwise repulse you. There's a clause to that though, a flip-side to all those points that is relatively essential toward living in a world with people like these and in times like we do.

That perspective? Not all of them will.

It's sensible these days, in a world so fractured by a sense of belonging that we all feel somewhat alien, to be afraid. It's sensible to not want to risk damages by being present, or by speaking words, or even by placing a kindness in the lap of a stranger. It's sensible to be afraid to fall in love or to change your job. It's sensible to want to keep your comforts, to keep the same roof and the same four walls beyond the same borders. There are innumerable reasons to not do anything and everything, but all those reasons come down to you -- and very few of them are fair to yourself.

What about it is so frightening? What about it makes you want to grab the brick and mortal, then dig a moat and build a wall? It's the question that needs be asked, though I don't in good conscience suggest it when you have anything to do the following morning. This question will lead you down some heavy roads, with fog so thick no light's going to get you all the way through. It's a scene from a bad movie, where the music has gone dead and you're just waiting for the monster to leap out of the darkness.

When it doesn't come, when the fog leaves only silence behind? Then there's something passing you by for nothing. What it ultimately comes down to you didn't ask, you didn't take a step, you didn't let yourself for whatever reason. Now a moment has passed you by, because the whole world has turned into your blind spot, and you're stuck with yet another check mark in the column of 'What if',

It's where the advocating for being selfish comes from. Maybe it seems arrogant to make the whole world about you, to center every action on yourself, and I can't argue that it isn't. What I can say is that it's often essential. You're not going to live forever, you don't have limitless opportunities to roam the streets with nothing but the blind hope of getting drunk on experience. You don't have an endless string of people you can let pass you by, slip through your fingers, or pass on because you're to afraid to open your mouth (or heart) and let the words come out.

You're human, you're hardwired for curiosity, to ask the questions, and there's nothing wrong with that. There's nothing wrong with you thinking or over thinking a scenario until it literally has you crippled and immobile. It's not going to make you happy, you certainly can't plan for everything anyway, but that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with trying. The catch comes though with the idea that each moment you spend trying to think of what to do is a moment you spend not really doing anything.

You're human, you're supposed to do things. You're built to learn, to question, to travel, to adventure, to be curious, and to just go. Yes, sure, you've come a long way from the ocean and the trees, yes being prudent of possible misfortunes and bad ideas is impartive to survival and longevity, but what's the point of it always? What does always worrying about what could be get you, save the likely outcome of a handful of 'didn't'?

It's those 'times I didn't', those 'wished I had' moments, that lead to late night troubles and a constant checking to see where the sand is at on the hourglass. It's what leaves otherwise sensible humans sitting on back steps, smoking too many cigarettes while pondering. They're ghosts of a past left unattended, of a future unrealized. They're what makes the fear of putting your heart out there, of being hungry, of wanting more, feel so important. They're the things you want the least of when the black rabbit comes around.

So take a chance sometimes, be the unreasonable human that you are. Do things that drain the bank account for nothing but a  good time. Laugh with a stranger on foreign streets. Give yourself the chance to feel for someone who even just might be special and be okay if that person ends up being you. Hang onto your goals, but don't be afraid to change them and, most importantly? Recognize you're own irrationality, that your wants and hopes you so easily talk yourself out of, are just as irrational as the means by which you do so.

You're a fantastic and wonderful human being and, while there's absolutely no point in denying that your existence here is temporary, there's also no reason not to do everything you can to try and enjoy as much of it as possible. The worst that happens is that it won't pan out and that's always better than the gnawing hunger for the 'Could have been'.

Know your Drugs, Know Your Doses.

Know your Drugs, Know your Doses:
A cautionary tale about all the chemicals inside your head.

 The morning often comes as a pointed reminder of existence. It's where the debts of yesterday come due and we've often got no choice to pay them. Sometimes, this isn't at all a bad thing. Perhaps you've had a productive yesterday, perhaps you've fallen asleep in the arms of a wife you've made happy, maybe you finished a paper and, though you're waking up dog tired and wrung out, you can at least put the feather of accomplishment in your hat. Sometimes you're waking up, cursing the myriad of things you decided to pour into your head as you go stumbling in the shower. Sometimes you swear up and down you'll never do what you did again. Sometimes you decide to tip the whiskey bottle into the brown sludge that is your morning coffee and start the whole day over again -- because it was just that good.

Whatever you've done with your yesterday, whatever you're going to do with your today or your tomorrow, you've got that moment to take stock of the balance on your account. How's it feel? Where are you headed? What was it in that moment of past that put you where you were? What is it about where you're going that makes it where you want to be? Why is it, exactly, that you white knuckled the glasses last night? What about those eyes you stared into made you willing to sit there for hours? Were you cramming in your words into the witching hours because the pains of procrastination had robbed you of the opportunity to do something you'd rather be doing? Be honest with that moment and God help you if you don't. That kind of lie is the thing that's going to haunt you for so long as you try and avoid it.

Maybe you've done that. Maybe you're a line-toting teetotaler,  or maybe you're some bare knuckled loon, sucking down every last drop of emotion you think you can get your hands on. Maybe still, and worse yet, you're the type who cares not for the edge, because you regard your head as a shell for your consciousness. Or maybe you're the kind of jeering peacock who thinks all their best traits only shine after you've gotten your hands on some kind of bright coloring for yourself. Maybe you're taking your drugs because you like the way they make you feel, or because it makes it easier to be "you". Whatever you are and wherever you fall on the spectrum, it doesn't really matter. What matters is that you're being real about what's going on inside your head.

It's here that I'd like to take a bit of a pause, to make something nice and clear, and avoid coming across to some of you like a slack-jawed hypocrite.

I have mad habits, which are hardly limited to the fact that I smoke cigarettes whilst listening to loud music, believe in being brutally honest, or drink Gin in foggy glasses, that I wouldn't advocate to most people. They're my vices, and I've studied them enough to know how to handle them.  I'm aware of my doses. I know my limits, and I know when I can push them. This is because I've sat down and been real with how far I can go, where my edge is, and what happens when I go over it. I know the dues I pay for the cigarettes I smoke. I know the tax I'm going to get for the drinks I pour. I know the creak and rattle that sometimes show up in my head are due to decisions  made long ago, where the fees are still pounding on the door like a bill collector who Sunlights as census taker.

In short, and to be somewhat titular, I know my Drugs, I know my Doses. I've taken the time to consider what I do and why I do it. I keep the car well maintained and tended so that, if the moment comes where I'm speeding toward an edge I do not want, the brakes still work and everybody gets to walk away with little more than an affirmation of life. I know why I take them, I know what I want to get out of them, and I'm completely uncompromising in my hold of the wheel. It's an important understanding when dealing with drugs, and it brings us to the point of what matters when you're looking at them.
 
What matters is the reasoning for your motivation. What's bringing you to dose yourself? What's making you not? Maybe you've walked away, maybe you picked up a shovel, dug a hole, and filled it with everything you could get your hands on. Maybe, in some vain hope of finding substance in the triviality, you've convinced yourself that this is the way forward. Maybe you're not interesting without it. Maybe it's the only way you can create, or function, or make it through the day. Maybe you've never touched drugs -- a fact which I very much doubt for reasons we'll get to in a moment --  It's the why of the drugs you take, and it's those drugs I want to get serious with for a moment.

I'd go out on a limb and assume that this is taken as some discussion about the various forms of alcohol, pills and other such unmentionables, and about how people use them. It's no secret that I drink, or that I've suffered the response to poor life choices and the staggering headache that is biting off more than you can chew. Nobody's here to deny or debate that Heroin is going to damage to your life, or that Marijuana's no less harmful than anything else you might choose. I'm not here to tell you that you should, or should not drink. I'm not going to advocate smoking, I'm not going to tell you to go hunting down whatever you're curious about either. This is your life, these are your choices. You're not being judged for these choice but they're not what we're talking about here either.

The way your face hurts from laughing too long at a moment when you just couldn't help yourself? That's a happiness hangover. That rush you of delight and world lifting joy you feel post orgasm? Drugs. That hopeless feeling you get when you're tasting a bitter spoonful of loss? That too, is a drug. It's a framed perspective on reality that, though it might not help you, might just give you a new way of looking at yourself. It's not every day we think about our emotions or our thoughts as drugs but, when you think about it, that's exactly what they are at the end of it all.

Dopamine, Serotonin, and the horde of other neurotransmitters? They're cues and responses our brains cook up in response to a situation. It's no different than the way your head takes to spinning after one too many hits from the Tequila bottle, or the way you find the volume of everything turned down when you've washed down your handful of daily prescriptions. They're chemicals that change the way you think, alter the way you feel, and change the way you see the world. They're the host to many of our emotional responses and the medium by which we react to them.

It's these drugs, one like sadness, happiness, love, and so on, that we need to be the most aware of really. They're the things that will come about regardless of your extracurricular activities or what you get up to in your late night hours. Life will happen to you, it'll impact you, and it'll spoon food you these drugs to convince you of all manner of nonsense. You'll see the world through a fog that's ten times worse than anything you could even imagine when you hear the phrase 'bad acid trip', you'll believe things that are hopeless and impossible, and all manner of reason and logic will be abandoned like a car that died on a logging road hours from anywhere worth mentioning.

Say you just got out of a relationship or you just found yourself hopelessly falling in love. We've all been there, and it's an easy example to use as a baseline (especially today). Think about it. Where has it gone wrong? Where has it gone right? Are these honest responses to where you're at? Look at the happy couples who've made promises for the long haul and the thick and thin, and look at the ones who've fallen flat on those vows. It seems to me that the predominant difference between column A, the ones who made it, and column B, the ones who didn't, is pretty clear. Someone was honest about the drugs they felt, separated themselves from it, and made a decision, and someone got caught up in the addiction and didn't see it coming.

This model is applicable far outside of the affairs of love, as I've said. Every emotion, especially the ones that feel intense, overwhelming, or perfect in every way, really falls under that banner. It's a drug you're getting in response to a stimuli. It's not a whole lot different than sticking that rolled up dollar bill up your nose, of chewing on a bit of cactus really. You're not going to be any more rational or forward thinking unless you can be honest with it and, if you ever forget that you're on drugs? Well, that's it, life as you know it is over. You've hit the crossroads where it's all going to change -- and that's not at all a bad thing.

Being honest with yourself about the fact that your own drugs becomes the easiest way to handle their effects (we'll get to the other side of that coin in a bit). This truth is Universal when talking about all of them, from the endogenous ones to the ones cooked up in dirty basements by people you wouldn't even think about talking to at a party. If you don't like the way an event makes you feel, just like if you don't like the way you behave when you're drinking? Stop subjecting yourself to it. Get a grip on your bootstraps and pull yourself away from it. Stop doing the drugs you don't like and stop putting your brain in situations where it's got no choice but to be flooded with them.

As an example: You feel like you're no good because all you can do is follow the draw of unattainable people? That's the drug of insecurity.  It's your brain setting you up to sabotage you because of how you see your own sense of worth. Sure, there's the argument here that maybe you should consider therapy or counseling, but what about the simple idea that you're just on drugs? What you're telling yourself is not a thing there is any reason for you to believe. Do you know the object of your affection is beyond your reach? Have you asked him/her? Have you taken your concept of reality and put it to the ultimate test? If you haven't, you've got to remember that you are just on drugs and due to said drug your perception of reality might be entirely skewed. Don't listen to the drug. Talk to them anyway. If it turns out the drug was telling you the truth? That's unfortunate for you and now you've got to pick yourself up, clean the egg off your lapels, and get right back out there.

As another: If you feel like you're capable of anything, are entirely desirable, and can have whatever you want. Welcome to the spiraling drug of Ego. Ego, in particular, is a dangerous one. It possesses and impossible power for convincing you the world is exactly the way you see it. This is almost never the case and that's simple fact. You can't see the world from any eyes other than your own, it doesn't matter how good your empathy is, and there's no way to know all the details of everything everyone around you might be thinking -- especially when you have no idea what drugs they're taking too.

Another of the dangers of the Ego-Drug is that it's so useful. That white rush of confidence? The belief of indestructibility, that everything is right in the world? It's this same rush that junkies of all shapes and sizes have been chasing since we figured out how to get high. When you find yourself in that position it's vital that you take a step back, remind yourself that you're on drugs, and re-examine where you've found yourself. Are you being genuine in your ambition, or are you just some doped up bull charging forth in a stream of vomit and broken china? How is your sense of indestructibility affecting those around you? What effect will it have on those you leave behind?

Again, know your drugs, know what effect they have on you. Keep an eye on them, keep an eye on yourself when you're on them. Do you like the way you act? Do you like the decisions you make? Does the drug your on bring you a real sense of satisfaction, or is that just the drug whispering in your ear? Take as much time with this question as you're able with this question. As a further element of caution, and in keeping with the overall themes here, be honest with this question.

Lying, especially to the self, is the sweeping craze of the streets these days. It's the designer drug that can make you feel like whatever you think you need to feel like and, just like sticking needles in your arm or taking that last hit of Acid that sends your sanity spiraling off the deep end, it can lead your life down a dark road of ruin. When you're on drugs, emotions or otherwise, things get serious. You can't afford to fuck around with yourself, and you sure as hell can't think you can control it. It's where the importance of knowing your drugs and your doses comes from. If you can't rationally argue to yourself that you're on drugs and what you're thinking might not be the best idea? Seek help, immediately.

You've got to put the breaks on  that kind of thing at once. Sometimes it really is as simple as sleeping it off is the best an easiest approach here, and it's my primary advice. When you feel like you've hit that wall, check out. Punch your time card, get out of where ever you are, put your head down, and let it go. Often times that check will give you time to recalibrate and come back to reality.  You're still going to have to make  a decision though and, as a veteran of many an emotion, there is nothing worse than being locked in a drug induced prison of indecision. This will inevitably lead to a white panic, but don't worry. You're going to be all right, just remember, you're just on Drugs. Think about how big a dose you're handing yourself, and figure out how to hold it together.

The silver lining though? It's no defense for poor decision making, it doesn't matter if you're talking about drugs or emotions, but you are just on drugs. The best defense you're going to get is a plea of temporary insanity, and that's not a thing you want in your everyday life. I'll even be honest and suggest that, sometimes, that's a fun place to be. When you just let yourself go, indulging in the biggest overload of the good life you can? I can't say that sort of hedonism doesn't have value, and that's totally giving into the drugs of emotions. But it's a dangerous wave to ride, and not too different from play Russian Roulette.

The wave, as it were, is another example of the importance of stepping back and taking another look is so important. Is it really the good life? What is it comprised of? What makes it good? What are you doing to sustain it? It's easy, when feeling like you're on top of the world, to overlook things. It's easy to forget that calm is an emotion, a drug if you will, and deserves just as much of a look as any other. Sometimes this look, especially if you're smack dab in the middle of a peak, will be traumatic. You will find that everything you once saw so clearly is suddenly not so. The horrific monster you've just seen while tripping off your own emotions? Don't be surprised if that becomes some unpleasant revelation truly comes when you realize something about yourself that you don't like. As a wise friend of mine once said "Meeting yourself is one of the most awesome and terrifying things you will ever do."

But, again, remember: You're just on Drugs.

It's not an excuse to act foolish, but you will. It's not an excuse to leave yourself indecisive to the point of misery, but you will. Emotions are powerful drugs that can become crippling addictive. They're the vice no human can escape from, and the thing we're all doomed to wrestle with until we ramble on to whatever is next.  Sometimes they'll freeze you in your tracks and make it impossible to move. That's okay. Everyone who's taken Emotions  has been there. Don't kick yourself because it happens to you, it happens to everyone, or at least everyone who cares about where they're going. It's being wary of the greener grass, making sure it's not just AstroTurf. It's looking at what's around you and why it's so good. It's being honest about the fact that you're always on drugs, and figuring out how to nail down the ones you want and how you're going to get there. It's about the moderation in all things, even in moderation. Don't be afraid of the good time, but stop thinking you're not worth it too.

You're going to miss out on some good times, you're going to get stuck in some bad ones. You're going to get fucked up from time to time, by nothing but your own head. Even if -- nix that -- Especially if you don't think this could happen to you, you're wrong. You won't know where to go or what to do, but, really it's going to be okay. You've got to find your way back to the ground, figure out where you want to go, and maybe calm down a little bit, but I promise it's true. You might be caught in some weird fever, but you can come out of it. The drugs will wear off, and there's all kinds of people out there who stumble through it just as badly. There are people out there who can help, including you. Don't try to deny you're out there. We're all out there.

To bring the point back home, that's why you've got to know your drugs and know your doses. Know what you can handle when you sit down. Draft up you're boundaries, but don't be afraid to flex them from time to time. Be reasonable with yourself and be honest about what you've done. Accept that you will do stupid things for no acceptable reason, but know that your value isn't determined just by what you didn't do right. Be wary of building yourself cages with your own feelings, and cultivate friendships that will be there when you cry for legitimate help. Get stupid with laughter, keep yourself from getting stupid with sabotage. Drink deep the nectar of the good life, but remember it's got it's tax too, and never, ever, forget the important one.

No matter what you're feeling? You're just on drugs, and sometimes that's exactly where you need to be.

Deviance and the Long Goodbye

Deviance and the Long Goodbye

What I learned that I want to share in Twenty-Fourteen.

Let's all take a moment to appreciate that another year is over. You had your Birthday at some point and, even if your being born is the only thing you can say about this year, let's hope you have something good to say about it. It's melody is gone now. Soon we'll be moving on to new songs at the top of the charts. Soon there will be new, eye catching headlines. Soon you will be facing an entire new set of challenges -- at least if you're lucky enough to have figured out that the good life takes work that is. So take a moment, take a look back, and see what the year held for you. Make sure you've got it firmly in the rear view, or I fear a lot of that which follows, might make very little sense at all.

Nostalgia's got a real dastardly way about it. It has this beautiful way of being an endless fountain of hope and can be the infinite source of strength for us as humans. It's a means by which we can comfortably benchmark the moments in life that we enjoy the most. Life, after all, really is about being enjoyed. It's only natural for us to look back at the moments that helped define it. I'd go one better to say it's a damn good idea. Keeping your eye on the prize is important, but you've got to remember the trick: What you're going for? It's not the experience, it's the feeling. That feeling's what you're looking for and that feeling has an obnoxiously high level in skill when it comes to hiding how much of a bear trap it can be.

Keeping one's thoughts and feelings -- and God help you if you do it to your heart -- stuck in that place is never going to be a benefit to anyone. Time passes, the world keeps turning, and we change. Through the wind and the rain of the cold, dark, nights, to the warm spring meadows, and snow crunching under the tires, we all change. Things happen to us, memories are born, bad things happen, sometimes we even get scars -- and those are much easier to get when you're not looking where you're going. The only way one goes through a year of life without change is if one is willful and resolute in their own indignation and refuses to allow or accept the slightest change to their path or structure.

I will say it once, but I will say it as clearly to you, the reader, as I can: Avoid these people like the proverbial fucking plague. This isn't spoken out of any kind of toxicity toward the type we all know, this is a general warning. People who would rather dig their heels in than feel the shift of the rock we're all on? That's a dangerous level of self delusion. Nobody's got that kind of power and, if someone claims they do? You back away from that crazy fuck in a hurry. No one should be trusted to be that drunk on their own ego, and we all know what happens to the right hand of the power hungry, mad, King. This is not a place you should ever want to find yourself and, should you ever, make a hasty exit.

To do that, however, there's a thing that's got to be done. It's not an easy one for a lot of people, myself included. but it's the bottom line of the issue. We've really got to stop being afraid of saying Goodbye. It's an issue we allow ourselves to wrestle with too often, and in ways that are just plain bad for us. It's what our hurdle with death ultimately becomes, it's what keeps us in abusive and unhealthy relationships. It's what makes us stay in shitty towns we hate, working jobs we hate. It's what makes 'unfriending' -- which stands as the great sign of all relationships in our era -- such a gigantic slap in the face. 

This lack of decisive goodbye, which is really the immediate deviation from some part of our current path, is all about the choice to let the moment draw out in awkward absurdity rather than to be direct. There's a laundry list of excuses, justifications, rationalizations, and perfectly good reasons why we do it. Sometimes it's down to a question of our own worth and confidence. Sometimes it's where we're comfortable, and we talk ourselves out of it. Sometimes we've grown an anchor and we just can't bring ourselves to cut the mooring lines. Whatever the reason, when you find yourself there, -- and you will -- it's very important to be realistic.

You're stuck. You've got to accept that, for the moment and in the situation, you're judgement is completely flawed. You're be better off trying to make life decisions stone drunk on good scotch, while you're stranded out in the middle of the desert. How you got there? Well, that's easy. You got there by your own action or lack thereof. That's how we all end up where we are and we're the only means to our egress . So, if we're in a situation where we wish we weren't anymore, but we can't bring ourselves to make an exit on our own? See the earlier statement. Stuck. Fucked. Flawed. 

And that entire feeling is absolute shit.

You are never, really, stuck anywhere. Maybe you don't want to give up the things you would have to, but that's your decision. It's your choice to weigh the scales and make your moves. If you don't like the way a situation is sizing up, then be honest about that. All you're doing is drawing out the death of a moment because saying goodbye to him, her, it, them, has become too awkward. Self improvement through change is a social trait that has now been relegated only to people willing to fuck others over and this idea, that somehow we're not worth wanting and getting a better life for ourselves has absolutely got to stop.

Goodbye has a painful hitch to it, but why? What's so bad about time passing, about experiences and being changed by them? What's so wrong with wanting different things out of life, about wanting that immediate deviance from the road we're on? What does it matter if we want new scenery, deeper cups, and or even the more simplistic, more comfort? These are things we all should want, should we find our current to be less than we're willing to accept -- and they're exactly the kind of things that make Goodbye seem like such an act of ill will to so many.

And, much like the feeling of being trapped, that is aboslute garbage.

Goodbye absolutely can be an act of ill will. Selfish indignation, judgements, condemnation, these are all examples. Again, this is where that being realistic is going to come in. Is it really what's happened? Think about the last time someone told you goodbye. Was it in the heat of an argument? Was it after some major transgression? Do you even remember what happened, or is that you just don't talk anymore? Finally, and most importantly, what was your role in that situation? Or maybe, just maybe, you're one of the lucky ones that had it come at the end of an adult conversation. If you are? Stand up and take a bow. Congratulations on your ability to human.

More likely than not, I'd wager. The Goodbye came as some awkward drifting. There were periods of lament, where conversation never really happened and time spent only led to after hours complaining to anyone who would listen. It's this, common place, acceptable, behavior that makes Goodbye seem like such a bad thing. It's the way we go about it, trying to be overly polite and spare feelings. It's stepping on someone else to put yourself up in a new set of eyes. It's a vicious, rat bastard, move -- and it works. It works because it's simple, because it's indirectly confrontational. It's getting to take the high road, or so you like to tell yourself anyway.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with having life change you in a way that draws you away from someone, someplace, or something. Maybe you've decided to take up hobbies to better yourself, or give up a part of your lifestyle because you just don't like it anymore. That's a perfectly good reason to say Goodbye to something and, if you're really interested in taking the high road, you should be honest about it. What's the worst that's going to happen? You're moving on to a new situation, which is more in line with the life you want for yourself,  or the situation will adapt to work with you.

Word to the wise, infuriating as they are? If you're not honest, you're really never going to get the latter.

The truth of the matter is that, by drawing out this act for whatever reason, you are doing a disservice to whatever might have been there. Whatever existed once, the thing  to give you something to feel bad about saying Goodbye to, allowing for the awkward, slow death, goodbye, is...well, it probably says a lot more about you than you'd want.

If it's a job, are you really going to work all that hard at it anymore? If it's a place, is it really going to be anything you'll be able to enjoy if you don't want to be there? If it's a person, or people? Are you really going to be able to honestly be there for those people, or do you thing you'll always just find yourself drifting off whenever they start to talk? If it was a thing, are you going to be able to treat like you feel it deserves? Even drugs and alcohol, which generally hold positions of some reverence if they get in deep, can be treated this way. Can you respect it and have it in your life? If the answer is ever no, then think about what you might be doing to the person/place/thing/self by allowing the presence to remain.

Once more, it's important to be realistic about this process. Look around you. Have you changed? What's different? What are you not getting out of your current existence? What's missing?  Do you have to change in order to get it? Is this something you really want, or is it the late night paranoia of a winding clock? You've got to look at yourself and make good and damn sure you're happy with the answer. It's part of that whole, being honest with yourself, thing. You're going to have to reap what you sow, and that should never detour you from doing what you need to do for yourself.

Life is capable of infinite deviance. With it's long and winding highways offering late night rest stops, in parts of the world you'd never even think to visit. With wet tires and the pedestrian clutter of our everyday, it's impossible not to step into something that will change you. If and when, because it is a when, this leads to a crossroads? Don't be afraid of Goodbye. Tell the truth to yourself about why, and tell the object that you're saying goodbye. Enjoy the fact that time has passed and you have changed, live the dream, understand you're worth it. Now is never the moment to let yourself get anchored to a thing that is outside your scope of want. That's an act that belongs in yesterday, but never, ever, in tomorrow.  

Be done with the Long Goodbye. Be a better friend than that to yourself. You deserve the life you want.You're going to have to work for it, but you're worth the effort. Life's too short to do anything else. Time will pass and everything will change. It's okay to want to change along with it. It's okay to deviate away the norms of your time, it's okay to want what you want -- with the footnote of 'so long as it doesn't hurt anyone' only applying to matters of stopping someone else. 

Life the life that you want and believe is right, and let everyone else do the same. Chase the end of your highway until you want to change your route. Be forthcoming and forthright with your actions and intentions. Be clear in your thoughts. Be open with your feelings. Be honest with yourself and then apply this to everything else in your life. Put the phone down and talk, make sure you're being heard -- and make sure you're listening. Put it all in perspective, sit down with it, get comfortable, and really look.
 
If you find a circumstance has shifted outside of that? Examine it and leave it behind. Don't drag it out. Be careful of greener grass and excuses to flee, for sure, but don't be the kind of person to drag a memory through the filth of an unclean death either. That kind of ending is the extra, rusted, tooth on that bear trap of nostalgia. It'll taint every memory of the time you have because it ended on such a jagged note -- and there are few things worse than a past littered with the sharp parts of broken songs.

Shit

Celebrating yet another successful revolution around the Sun

See Also: Things not to ignore, forget, or take for granted ever.

This last weekend I had a birthday. I'd say it wasn't much of a party, but we all know that's not at all true. In a way that should come as no surprise to anyone, the day was rung in the same way it was wrung out.  Language barriers were broken and resurrected, people offered false well wishes as well as genuine ones. There were drinks aplenty. Some might even argue too plenty -- I make it a point never to ask those people so I couldn't say for sure -- and then there were truths both told and shown. There was food and film, conversational ingestion, and the whole thing got rounded out by a grass roots movement back to some honest ground. It was just the kind of thing one could expect after thirty ones years of a hallowed and holy existence and, as should come as no surprise at all, the whole thing washed out in a puddle of vomited leftovers somewhere on the back lawn near the piles of dog shit left as obedient presents. All in all, I'd call it a good party, a real good party, and the big one hasn't even happened yet. It was the solid reminder of all things right and true, all things believed and convincing, all things I want and celebrate, from the drinks right down to the dog shit.

So. I did it. I went around the sun again, which likely comes as an unfortunate surprise to some of you out there and equally as pleasant of one to far fewer. What, though, does that really mean? What have I done in the last year? Where have I been that I no longer am not? Where am I going? What am I celebrating? What's different? These are the questions that dogged me well into the waking hours of a hangover. They were the unflinching questions posed as I sat down to read the words of long dead poets; the words that fell down around dragged feet as I sat in a chair outside, curled up on a couch, ate and then purged myself of a long drowning sickness. They were the things I understood, fundamentally, that I had celebrated -- the questions that is -- and they're the things that filled me with an honest sense of self loathing powerful enough to fill a toilet bowl multiple times over.

And that, is, precisely, the point.

I didn't just survive another year around the sun, I celebrated it. I waded into its passing daily, I embraced it as it came and went. I looked forward through it as it passed through me into the rear view. I absorbed it as easily as I let it go. It sounds a bit arrogant, and perhaps a bit like I'm full of shit -- shit's probably going to be a common reference here, so pay attention -- but that was the understanding that was most strongly reinforced:

Perspective is nine tenths of the law, and not even the truth is exempt from it.

That's the meat of it and, subsequently, the shit all at the same time. It's what makes self perception one of the most dangerous things there is for a mind, and what makes self honesty so damn painful. It's the breakdown of the senses, the untangling of the massive weaves of bullshit -- see, I told you shit would be a them here -- and it's a fundamental requirement in living any kind of life you honestly expect to be happy with at all. Who you are, the life you lead, is ultimately how you perceive yourself to be and is only really ever called into question in two instances, which we'll get into here and now.

Instance number one. You question it yourself. This is good. It's a healthy process, it's important, and it's really the only way to know if where you are is where you want to be in life. It's asking yourself the questions of "Do I appear as I intend?" and "Is how I see myself the way I am or the way I wish I was?" There are others, to be certain, but these two seem to be the most pointed. They're not the same questions either, despite how they might look and easily be answer in much the same fashion, and both should always be answered honestly. The bottom line for this one is simple: If you lie to yourself when you ask yourself questions your answers will always be...say it with me now...Shit.

Lets assume, because frankly I'm a fucking optimist and it's what I want to believe, that you don't lie. Let us assume that you carry on with the truth, sit down in front of yourself and with yourself, and measure up your own behavior toward your actual goals. First of all, good for you. You got the hard part done right and maybe, just maybe, you did it without any kind of pandering or hand holding. Pat yourself on the back for a job well done. Don't get too comfortable though, the shit show is just beginning.

If you appear as you intend, if the way you see yourself is honest and can stand up to all scrutiny, celebrate that. Don't take it for granted, don't neglect it, and don't ignore it because, if you do, there is a very reasonable chance you might never be able to change it. If it doesn't change, if it can't change, then it's going to die and turn to, you guessed it, shit. That's the important part. Be flexible in your own perceptions and allow them to be challenged. Don't ever think you've ever got it, or yourself, all figured out. You don't. You probably never will. It would be a good idea to sit down and get comfortable with that fact, but don't you dare use it as excuse to sit there and not try. That's shitty.

Relative to this point is the understanding that you will always see a way in yourself in which you did, do, had done, or will do, something other than what you want, wanted, wished, or would have liked. That's normal. It's the swift kick in the shin that perspective will bring ninety-nine percent of the time. If you're not paying close attention, if you're not staying on the ball with this honesty, that kick may very will drop you into your own shit face down and continue kicking you mercilessly. If you enjoy this process? Seek professional help from a different Doctor. I don't have the kind of medicine you need and will turn off the open sign at once when I see you coming. Take that into consideration when dealing with point two.

It's really easy to convince yourself that the way you behave is the way you want to be seen. It's easy to say "This will get me where I want to go" -- which is an utterly useless sentiment if you haven't figured out where you want to go, by the way -- but is it really true? If you really sit down and can't find a single moment in your decisions where what you say might not be suspect to your own folly of arrogance, you're probably wrong. I know, that's some shit to hear, but you probably are very wrong. 

There are very few genuine questionings that ever end in black and white answers. The blacks and whites, the 'good idea' and 'bad idea' process respectively, is entirely tempered by your perception of events and, one would hope, the path of least resistance towards what you consider your goals to be. The very notion of being unwilling to consider that your self-perception is inaccurate starts a process process where convincing becomes easier than feeling (Before you ask, no, easier is not always the path of least resistance) and that willful clinging to an out-dated ideal sinks the whole ship. It's why maintaining an unwavering position of the self is doomed the moment you accept it. It'll leave you stuck, ankle deep, in a pool of your own shit, begging for a way out you couldn't see even if it was right in front of you, and all because it didn't fit with your ideas.

Don't do that to yourself. Don't let yourself get stuck in a rut of dishonesty and answers that you wish were true over ones that are, in fact, true.

Weighing in:

Weighing In:

The unfortunate truth about you, me, and all the people we don't know

So. The world we live in -- where do we even go with that? We'll get back to it, maybe.

I haven't touched this thing in almost eight months, largely due to the dedication of my efforts on other projects. So what brings me back here? Facbook and social media, at least today. A lot of my readers, if not most, I'm fairly sure come from Facebook. We're all peers in real life and we know one another. We talk, much like I would converse my points here, I just get more of a sounding board. Generally speaking, one reflects the other and the two build a comfortable back and forth that, again generally, leads to a betterment of oneself and a growth between friends. It doesn't hurt that it doubles as way for me to keep myself motivated, structured, and writing often either, but that's besides the point.

Facebook brought me back today. This may not seem irregular to some of you, but it is in a lot of ways. Normally, this blog is a place where I can carve out a refined thought. Sometimes it comes from conversations provoked by others. Other times it comes from questions or emails I received. Sometimes still it comes from news articles or social events (which I imagine this one will qualify in some way), but all this is getting painfully irrelevant. Today we're trying something a bit different. This isn't going to be some singular draft, off the cuff, barely checked for errors, 'I write it now and post it', blog post.

Today, this post takes the form of a comment I left as part of a discussion I had one Facebook. I suppose, perhaps, calling it a discussion is a bit unfair. What I really did was simply tack my idea onto a thread that had spawned from an article entitled "A Gentlemen's Guide To Rape Culture" that had been posted on the wall. That's all it is, a comment. It's not an article I wrote, it's not even so much an original idea. It's something I feel. Maybe it's wrong, maybe it'll get me set on fire by someone, I don't know.

What I do know is that I've been asked by several people (some readers, some not, what I think of this topic -- and I've decided to answer. For the sake of context (and comfortable anonymity) I'm not going to name names, or quote the comments that guided my reply. A general synopsis should suffice.

The commenter was (I presume) male and very upset by the notion that all men perpetuate rape culture. It was another reply that, in the shortest sense of explanation, insisted that not all men would do this kind of thing, that this was the most insulting thing he'd read, and then proceeded to list off a variable set of examples of women doing the same thing. Pretty typical back and forth about this issue, from how I've observed it. So, I figured, what the hell. It was relative to a close friend of mine (I promise to call you today by the way, if you're reading this. I suck with phones lately), in that she'd posted the article anyway, and I finally found myself entreated to reply.

I've avoided the discussion of this issue since I've yet to really establish just how I wanted to approach it, but, that's done now. So. Here's what I have to say.

"This is probably one of the only discussions on this topic I'd participate in. I hear a lot of the same sentiments being thrown around, "I'm not like that", I don't deserved to be judged like that", "This is hypocrisy!" and so on. I can't say that I find them all to be invalid, or that sweeping, blanket, generalizations about people are generally asking for trouble, but this article doesn't dive in to any of that.

Yes, I think there are a lot of people jumping on this issue in the last few years. I think it's an issue that's needed to be jumped on as well, to be quite frank about it. Yes, there are naysayers and people who are, unfortunately, adding a lot of negative light toward gender biases as a result. Yes, this issue is drumming up loads of biased hostilities on both sides of the line. Yes, people are saying a lot of very harsh things.

Do I agree with that? Absolutely not. Do I agree that I think these things need to be said to some degree? Yes, I do.

I don't condone a blanket, sweeping, sentiment about much short of Mass Murderers, Pederasts, and Rapists. Even those kind of statements, about what we can largely agree are monsters of people, on occasion do tend to get a little dicey. I think it's perfectly fair to want to stand up and distinguish yourself from that kind of thing -- but you're also kind of missing the point.

The bottom line really is that as a culture of people, by and large, we point the finger at individuals. I don't think many people would mince words over the fact that raping someone, anyone, is bad. We're fine with calling rape itself a bad thing, and that's a step. It's good that we know rape is bad. We'll judge a rapist by the deed, and for some people that's as close as they need to get.

Sure, okay. To a degree, I buy that. It's why we have things like registered sex offenders who have to knock on doors and let the neighborhood know. Some people even liked to tout how that was extreme, or judgmental even. It was something that was decided upon to help others feel safe in an environment and, regardless of whatever arguments one wants to make about rights in the situation, I'd call it fair.

But that doesn't stop people from getting raped, abused, or any of the other thousand of things that happen to people every day as a result of the culture we live in. The point of addressing 'rape culture' isn't to say "All men are bad" -- and yes, I'm aware that some people will take it to that extreme -- but rather to point the finger where it belongs: At the underlying cause of why rape has grown to such an absurd statistic.

I understand the sentiments that the "bad apples" have spoiled the bunch, I get the frustration that's there about it absolutely. I don't argue that men get raped, that not all men are rapists, or that being lumped into a stereotype really sucks. You can tout the line of disparity and unfairness all you'd like there, anyone can, and I'll say the same thing to all of them.

This isn't just about you, or me, or even about women who've been raped. This isn't just about people who get taken advantage of, or disrespected, or coerced. This is not even a movement for the victims -- and I'm frankly surprised at the candor many of them have expressed while it has gone on.

The addressing of rape culture, both previously and as of late, isn't to say "People get raped and that's fucked up." Anyone who isn't going to rape someone already knows that. Even if, and I have no idea the truth of the numbers, lets say 75% of the people on the planet would never perpetuate the circumstances that the discussion of rape culture refers to, that still leaves 25% of the people on the planet who would.

I don't know about you, but 25% of six billion people -- that's one and a half billion -- is still a pretty uncomfortable number of people to have roaming around the world. Even if you just took the population of the U.S. and applied those same numbers, you're looking at 79 million (rounded up) people who would (again, looking at exceptionally low ball numbers in my opinion), would do that kind of thing to someone else.

That's what this is about. It's about raising a standard of human decency and treatment. That's why it's so important to shine the light on these kind of issues. Some people, and I've known a few, really aren't even aware of these kind of things at all. I don't understand that, and I don't like being lumped in with them any more than I imagine anyone else who would never do this would -- and that's why I support it.

I understand the frustration, specifically coming from other males. I really do. Maybe you're not a man who would ever do these things to anyone else. Maybe you're right, maybe we should drop the gender biases from these issues and approach it more from a standard of generalized humanity. The facts, unfortunately, are the facts.

I'm quite sure there are unreported cases of men being raped by women. I'm quite sure, if you looked for it, you could find examples of that. I'm sure you could find the same examples, of the same behaviors, being perpetrated on men, and it probably wouldn't even take you that long. I'm confident there's merit to the "Well guys just don't talk about it" argument too, and I'm equally as confident that we'll get to that eventually...

But that doesn't change the simple fact that it is not the bigger problem. Nobody deserves to get raped. Again, we all agree on that. No one deserves to have their own comfort and security violated. No one should be forced into something against their will. These are basic human rights. If the numbers were reversed and this issue was predominantly male victims? I'd absolutely agree, this whole thing is getting unfair.

It's not. We're the smaller number. Sure, we're getting the raw end of the stick right now. Sure, we're constantly on the defensive and having to attempt to stand up as individuals and separate ourselves from the slime balls and degenerates who we want to make sure the whole world knows we're not like -- but how does that feel? It sucks, doesn't it?

That's the point this article, and the movement itself, is trying to accomplish. This, at least from what I've seen, isn't about individuals. It's not about who is, or is not, a rapist. It's not about who does, or does not, believe there are times when it is acceptable to expect people to do what you want them to do. It's not about the individuals who disrespect other people. It's not about the people who don't do it.

It's about drawing attention to the fact that it happens, and it happens a lot. It's why people, from all over everywhere, are stepping out to reveal things they've kept in the dark for a long time. It's why so many voices are coming together in union. It's not about pointing the finger at the people who perpetrate it, but more addressing the social and psychological ideas that have allowed this to explode into such an epidemic.

I think it's unfortunate, for sure, that is has gotten this bad. I think it's unfair that upstanding people are being lumped in with some really rotten eggs, but I still think the latter is a good thing. It's unfair for people to feel like they're being judged for things that they didn't do. It's unfair for men to feel generalized and brow beaten but, even if someone reading it feels they're not a part of this? Well, now that have a better understanding of how it feels don't they?

My advice? If you really want to make sure you're not being lumped in with people, make good and damn sure you're not acting like they do. Don't say "I'm not like that". Don't say "Not every man would do this". Don't make it about you. Don't make it about an individual. Take a stand against the bullshit things you see. Treat people better. Be respectful. Be known for it.

Separate yourself from the biases and generalizations by helping put an end to the behavior once and for all."

That's the bottom line, and I say this mostly to the gentlemen who feel that they're being unfairly judged. Hell, I'd say it to anyone who feels judged unfairly by a stereotype:

If you don't like it, do something to change it. If you don't want to be known for perpetrating these type of behaviors, don't perpetrate them.. Your peers will know. Your friends will know. If you don't like that the stereotype exists? Well, you're going to have to start working a lot harder to change people's minds. You are going to have to be the person who's known for standing up against these kind of things -- and no, just saying you are doesn't foot the bill.

You may not be responsible for why all this is going on, and that's wonderful. Good for you. Congratulations on being ahead of the curve. Now, sit down, pay attention, and listen to what is coming out of this movement. Pay attention to the wake up call it's trying to give. Listen to the horror stories and instead of whining about how you're not like that and this isn't fair. That doesn't help your case, or the case of anyone else for that matter.

Don't spend your energy complaining about how it doesn't apply to you. Don't waste your time trying to say how you're not like the people they are talking about. Chime in with them. Agree that it's wrong, do your part to put a stop to it. Don't try and invalidate the semantics of the statement. Don't try and defend your, not so unique, position. Don't feel the need to defend yourself from the statements people make, but rather take that same energy and use it to defend the people who you feel are being treated wrongly by your strangers, your peers, your friends, or your family.

TL;DR? If you're not part of the problem and people know it? Fine. Shut up. It's not about you. It's about the problem and you're not helping yourself or anyone else by trying to say it doesn't pertain to you. You will have to deal with someone in your life it does impact and, if you're really concerned with helping to reshape an image, you can do it by not putting up with the bullshit at all instead of just not doing it.