Gives you hell

I feel like I just got hit by a truck.

That's about the only way I know how to describe it. I was just minding my own business walking to class thinking about how great the weather was. I was in a hurry because as usual I overslept and woke up 15 minutes before class.

While I was walking I just happened to look up, and what did I see?

Them.

Errrgggghhhhhhhh.

There they were. Walking and smiling. Almost immediately my heart jumped out of my throat and started pounding in my ears as I walked by them, while I pretended not to see or care.

Despite living near him and having a class with her, I've actually done really well not having to see or think about them much. Maybe that's why I've been so mellow about the whole thing lately.

Now the lyrics to that All American Rejects song are running through my head: "When you see my face I hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell. When you walk my way I hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell."

Those words pretty much sum up how I feel whenever I see one of them. I hope they feel like shit. They should. Not just for what they did, but she should for how she ran from her problems. I've realized that there are two types of people in this world: those that run away when things get tough and those that stay and face them.

When things got bad between us her answer was the easy one, but not the one I deserved or needed. That's why I am confident that I will find closure in the situation before she ever will. Because she ran away. And it's not until she stops running and is willing to face everything she did that she can move on.

Maybe I'm wrong about this, but I doubt it. I know her too well to be off on this.

But me? I'm making progress every day. Sure, I know I haven't spoken to either one of them this year and it's almost March. And I don't really see a lot of my old friends from last semester, but that's their decision, not mine. Point is - I'm moving on. It's not easy and it's not quick, but one day I will be able to see them laughing together on campus without any sort of visceral response whatsoever.

Until then, when she sees my face I hope it gives her hell.

Gives her hell.

Eureka

It's nice when everything in life seems to work out for once.

It's refreshing when things finally seem to go your way after you've been battling uphill for about as long as you can remember. Maybe this is finally a moment of clarity. Maybe it's a sign of things to come. Maybe its the changing of the guards.

Or maybe it's none of these. Regardless, it's nice when you can relax and think about how things fell on your side for once.

After many months and weeks of pessimism I'm glad that I can not only be a happy person once again, but someone who sees the best life has to offer.

I feel like maybe I've reached a turning point between the person I used to be and the person I want to be. Every day gets a little easier and a little brighter.

Every day I discover something new about myself. Every day is one step further down this path I'm not following but rather forging.

I'm excited to see what tomorrow will bring, and I haven't always felt this way. I've learned you have to savor the good moments, no matter how simple or trivial they might seem. You've got to learn to enjoy even the most basic forms of happiness, like grabbing lunch with a good friend, reading the newspaper or making your favorite type of tea.

Because when you're down these are the things that will keep you going. It's loving the small things that can make even the worst days seem bearable.

And when you're up they will make a good day even better.

Here's to hoping tomorrow is even half as good as today was.

Fuck my life

Maybe I'll be a monk.

Right now that sounds pretty good. Girls and relationships just seem like another way to cause yourself pain. Even if you find the right person there's no guarantee you won't get fucked over.

Sometimes I'm afraid that no one else will ever have feelings for me like she did.

Today marks three months that I've been single. In this time no one has expressed even remote interest in me.

I'm certainly not looking for love, but a dinner and a movie would be nice. Anything really that showed me a little sign of hope. Instead I feel like no one will ever look at me the way she did. Sometimes at night I get scared that no one will ever have the feelings towards me that she did.

I want to get back out there but I don't know how. I think I'm incapable of starting a relationship with anyone. I'm realizing that no one wants to be in a relationship with me.

I don't think that I'm not a catch. I think I have a lot to offer. I just don't think other people think I do.

I hope one day someone likes me for who I am and wants to be with me. I also hope that when this day comes I'm not so jaded by love to fuck it up.

Sometimes fucking things up seems to be what I do best.

The slogan of an empty life

At least once a day I hear someone say something like, "I wish I would manage my time better."

What does managing your time better even mean? Time isn't a baseball team, or a stock portfolio, or even a small business.

What people usually mean is that they want to be more productive in their day. They want to do more in less time.

Productivity. Efficiency. Proficiency. The slogan of an empty life.

How come the success of a day is measured by what is accomplished?

I don't get it.

There are lots of days when I get a lot done, but I wouldn't say these are my best. And if I could manage anything better, it surely wouldn't be time. I would rather deal with friends, life, health, or even family. But not time.

Wake up. Work. Work. Work. Do more. Do more. Do more.

And repeat.

Life isn't a contest. It's not about doing the most, being the best or the most efficient. It's not a prize you can hang on your wall at the end of the day. If anything, most people need to do less throughout the day. Or at least do it slower.

Remember: Even if you win the rat race, you're still a rat.

If anything, I want to be the happiest. To enjoy the sunset more than anyone else. To love the little things the most. To have the best friends, memories and experiences. I want to be the best friend I can. The best son. The best person. When people think of me, I don't want them to think of how much I do and how fast, but how I do it.

I refuse to believe that a day's success depends more on the hours I spend in front of a computer than under the sun or with a good friend. Or that happiness is doing the same shit I will do tomorrow quicker than I did yesterday.

I'm perfectly content not managing my time well. Sure, my homework doesn't always get done. I don't pass all my tests. And I'm not always on time. But I'll guarantee that I get more satisfaction and happiness from wasting time than others get from managing it.

Productivity. Efficiency. Proficiency.

The slogan of an empty life.

Peanut Butter and Water Balloons

I dare you to sit in silence.

Turn off the TV, your cell phone, radio, car, iPod, computer and everything else. Including the lights.

I dare you to sit alone with your thoughts and see what happens.

It seems as if people spend most of their lives trying to avoid being alone, but I don't get it. Loneliness is simply when you think being alone is a bad thing. Instead we should just call this meditation.

Or peace.

Or self-discovery.

Call it whatever you like, but at least give it a try. Sometimes being alone with your thoughts is the best thing for your soul. Give yourself time to look inward and ask questions you didn't even know you had.

That's the only way to find answers you didn't know you needed.

The Buddhists call this "self-realization" or "self-enlightenment." You can call it peanut butter or water balloons for all I care. The point is just try it. You'll be surprised with what you find.

I'm always taken back by how many people in this world don't even know who they are. Like they're afraid of asking the tough questions about themselves because they don't want the tough answers.

Embrace learning about yourself and don't shy away from growing as a person.

A friend told me yesterday that she read a book by someone who said to always order something new at a restaurant. Even if it's bad, it's new and you'll remember it.

Genius.

How many of us are content to order the same thing every time? Safe. Predictable. Easy. Not the way life was meant to be lived.

So I challenge you to sit in silence at least once every day, even if it's just for a minute. Give yourself time to look inward and ask questions you didn't even know you had.

That's the only way to find answers you didn't know you needed.

The After

So much to say but so few words.

The story of my life.

It seems like the days get easier without me knowing what's going on. I wake up one day and I've changed. The person I am today is not the person I was yesterday or the person I will be tomorrow.

Such is life.

The moral? Love the journey, dumb ass. Because the moment you're in right now will never happen again. Never. So love the journey, dumb ass, or the journey's going to make you wish you did.

A few weeks ago I read a book one of my good friends gave me. The author said life was essentially made up of two parts: the Before and the After. The Before is everything prior to the moment when you realized what life was about. The After is your new life.

A fresh beginning. A clean start. One more chance. Life blesses each of us with this. The question is not when but how we will respond.

I've realized that life is either what you make it or what it makes you.

I wish I could explain it better. I can't seem to sum it up what I'm trying to say. But I know that some of you know what I mean.

Cherish the ride. Love everything and hate nothing. Run or walk. Scream or cry. Talk or listen. Sing or dance. Sit or stand. Pray or sin. Swim or float. Laugh or mope. Dig or fly. Life or death. Love or hate.

Do something. Anything. Just do something. Feel alive, even if it's just for a second. Feel anything, even if it's just fleeting.

Never stop searching.

Because Death isn't when you stop breathing, but when you stop living. That is if you ever started.

Scary, isn't it?

To think that maybe, just maybe, you haven't been alive for most of your life. But concentrating on the past leaves you unable to enjoy the future.

Here's to praying we all realize this before it's too late.

So much to say but so few words.

The story of my life.

Today will be a good day

Just a little poem I've been working on. It's incomplete, but I figured I'd post it anyway.
Enjoy:

I wake up in the morning
Before even the sun knows it's a new day
And I walk outside
Sipping my tea from a dirty cup
I watch the sun rise over treetops
I listen to what the birds have to say
I see the new dew drying on the grass
And I know that today will be a good day

I walk outside and feel the rain
Pounding on my uncovered face
My sandals are soaked
My spirit is flooded
From the gushing springs of life
I watch the fuzzy squirrels run and play
They climb up a tree, unaware of me
And I know that today will be a good day

I find my favorite spot
Right on the bank of the Jordan
Near the tree where we used to sit
As everyone else passes over
I watch the water run by
Slowly, with no where to go
The sun hits the water, sparkling
And I know that today will be a good day

It's late and even the stars seem tired
I'm bundled with my clothes and last cigarette
For the first time all day the world is quiet
Silence and darkness as far as I can see
I think back to all the little things
I saw throughout my day
The sunrise, the squirrels, the river
And I know that today was a good day

Long nights, November fights

The hardest part about breaking up is the loneliness. And the hardest part about the loneliness is sleeping.

For some reason when I get into bed I still expect to feel her next to me. Maybe it's wishful thinking, not that I want her there, but sometimes the loneliness is too much. I just want someone - anyone - there, so I don't have to sleep by myself.

It's odd how fast you can get attached to some things in a relationship. Sleeping next to the other person has to be on the top of that list. There's something overpoweringly comforting about rolling over and feeling her next to you. Her body heat warming you. Her body rising and falling softly in rhythm with her breath.

Sometimes it takes me hours to fall asleep. Hours. I lay there and stare at the ceiling. I'll get up and write or put on sandals and smoke a cigarette as the rest of the city sleeps. Or wakes. People ask why I stay up so late or never sleep. I can tell they've never been where I am.

Sleep is the one time when I always think about her. So much of my life has gotten easier these past two plus months. I've made so many strides, but going to bed never seems to get any easier.

Maybe because that's the one time I'm not distracted - where I can't hide from my thoughts. And inevitably she's what I think about, even if I haven't thought about her all day. There's something about the silence that makes me feel extra lonely.

And so I think.

I lay there and think about everything that happened. I wonder about her. How she is. If she wonders about me. If she can sleep. I think about how it used to be. I travel back in time. Three months. Six months. A year. Two years.

I let it all come back. All the happiness. The anger. The love. The hate. Randomly I'll think of a memory I haven't thought about in over a year. A special time. Nothing big or momentous, just us. I think about how I haven't spoken to her this year. I think about how she's practically a stranger. And I think about how weird that is.

I close my eyes and remember how it used to be. Me on the left, her on the right. Me hogging the covers and blaming it on her. The smell of her hair. The shape of her back. The whoosh of the sleepmate.

And so now I don't sleep. I stay up late. I chat. I read. I walk. But I don't sleep, because then I just lay alone all night.

The hardest part of breaking up is the loneliness. And the hardest part about the loneliness is sleeping.

We are Frogs Oblivious

So today at lunch I was telling my friend Kolby about how the only thing I missed about Facebook was writing notes. That was most of the reason I didn't delete it sooner. I miss the therapy of writing with no goal or reader in mind. Just writing for myself and for the sake of writing.

So here I am. Not sure who's out there or how they happened upon this blog, but welcome. This blog will serve as a medium for my writing. I write for myself. So if no one ever reads this I won't be disappointed. I write for my sanity.

Most importantly, I write because life is art. And art is the only difference between the living and the dead, regardless of whether they're actually dead.