I started smoking almost 3 years ago.
It was the only way for a long time that I could find reprieve from the world that was around me; an escape from a life a deemed terrible with no brightness in the future ahead. Both of my dad's parents died from smoking-induced cancer. And yet it didn't matter.
It was and still is one of the most popular things I turn to when I'm feeling alone, scared, or just upset. There's something about sitting there and being able to think that is relaxing. And I still don't even care that it could kill me one day. It is a dependence that I don't think will ever fully disappear.
Luckily, it's not the cigarettes that have me, though I have been tempted. But cigarillos and a pipe have been the one way that I can escape from the worst things in my life. Sure, I can write a song about it or plug in the headphones. But there is always the smoke for when the worst things happen.
Everytime I think I might give it up for good there is a relapse. And in all honesty I don't think I'm really trying that hard for it to end. For me one of my ways of coping is to grab a pack and just go for a long drive or a long cold walk. Something where I'm completely by myself, and just breathe away my life. On the other hand, there is something about having yourself completely cut off from the world that is appealing.
There have been times when I am upset that I have driven to one of my favorite towns nearby home, Red Bank, and just walked. My music is calming yet loud enough to block out the excess noise. And I just sit somewhere staring out over the river and smoke away. As I walk through the town I study the faces of everyone. And everyone has a different story. You can see the pain in some people in the laughter in others. Some people's eyes twinkle when they smile and in others you can see their indifference in the world they live in; a slave to the corporate world that they are forced to endure to get by in their life. The innocence of the children as they play along the water at Riverside Park. And the careful caution of their parents to keep them from getting in trouble.
If there was ever something that could calm me down the most... smoking would be up there. And I know it's not an attractive quality to many. So instead maybe I'll just accept that isolation that comes from it, and let it be.
I'm not saying I smoke a pack or day or anything like that. But I would be lying if I said it wasn't one of the first things I turn to. I'll be happy one day and the minute the bomb hits I'm back on the park bench with my drug.
I'm a strong advocate of being who you want to be, and ignoring the opinions of others. I do my best to do me, and not let anyone else get in the way. This might be one of those opportunities where it'd be best to accept some help. Yet something tells me that no matter what, it will never end. And I think I'm okay with that. Maybe it will lessen, but there will always be something to break me. I suppose there could be worse habits out there.
Maybe this surprises you, to be reading this. Maybe you had no idea. But it was something I was thinking about today. That special time for me to sit down and think comes through the smoke and I don't mind sitting down for hours if it means I'll have some time to think. Consider it one of my faults if you will, but it has gotten me through some tough times in my life, even if that's not the best way to go about it.
I'm not really sure how to wrap this one up. All I can say is that when the shit hits the fan, and emotion gets too strong to take; whether I'm hurting or just lonely, don't be surprised if you see me sitting alone somewhere. Just watching.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
brothers
For the first time in a long time yesterday, I sat down and had a long chat with my brother via Skype. I have to say, it was much needed and really put a smile on my face.
As I'm sure many of you reading this know, I'm not very close with my family. I purposely went to a school that was very far away from home, and I only ever have gone home for winter break; all the others I stay in Clemson or go somewhere with a friend. It's been that way for a long time, and my parents and I especially have a vast amount of differing opinions on how life should be. At one point I thought about always writing down the things that ticked me off about them each day so that in the future I would have something to look back on when I had kids of my own.
That only lasted a few days, but the point is still the same; we don't get along. I have a tendency to compare my quality of life with that of other kids', which is, unfortunately for me, rather upsetting since it makes a lot of things in my life seem unfair. Since I started high school, I have always been bickering with my parents in my spare time. I don't go to church with my family, I have gotten tattoos, I don't answer their phone calls and they've stopped calling because they know I won't answer.
Generally, I dread going home. Coming from a rich town means all the kids' parents feed their kids' selfishness and gluttony. People get cars like Mercedes', BMWs, and Jaguars for their birthdays, on the day they first get their license. Parents have financed their booze-ridden parties and supplied drugs for others. I don't feel like I fit in in this town, and we have a terrible reputation for being stuck up and arrogant. I'm almost ashamed of where I grew up. And that's why I hate going home, is because I have to see these people. In their eyes, I perhaps disappeared off the face of the earth, basically leaving for South Carolina without so much as a facebook status. I used to wonder if anyone who I left behind from my town wondered where I went.
I no longer care.
The point is, this time, I'm kinda looking forward to going home. Talking with my brother last night realized how much I miss him and miss having him around. It's like I'm missing out on a big part of his life (high school). And I know 100% all the garbage he has to put up with being the only one at home with my parents. Things get blamed on you, you get constantly harassed to do your work, you are not allowed to do this or that, and there are a billion and one rules to follow. They make you go to bed, and argue that because you're up, they have to stay up until you go to bed. I never understood that. Maybe I make them sound worse than they are... but I know from experience it's always been a struggle with them, and my brother has the same issues with them that I did and still do.
As the years went on and I went off to college, I feel that the bond with my brother has grown stronger, despite the fact that we don't talk very much and we are a long ways away. We are always able to sympathize with each other, because we both go through a lot of the same stuff. We are extremely similar in the way we handle things and what ticks us off. I do my best to set a good example, but I would say he helps me just as often as I help him. (He probably doesn't even know it, either, while he's reading this)
I'm really sorry for all those out there who don't have a strong sibling bond like that, or all those who are only children and may not ever experience it. It's really something special, and that's why I decided to memorialize it with the tattoo on my left arm, saying Brothers Forever in an ambigram-ish sort of way. The ambigram is symbolic of the reciprocation of the help given and received, in a never ending cycle. Not only will he always be my brother by blood, but he'll be the best thing in a family I could ever have asked for.
I appreciate him more than he knows, and I'm always pullin for him, whether he knows it or not. It kills me when I see him get let down or dumped or having my parents dump their problems on him. It's not right. But just so he knows I've always got his back, no matter what. When he's old enough, I'm told the plan is to get the same tattoo, so we'll be matching.
But for now, I'll settle for just being able to spend some quality time with home over break. He also turns 17 on Thursday, so happy birthday buddy. Good to have you in the fam.
As I'm sure many of you reading this know, I'm not very close with my family. I purposely went to a school that was very far away from home, and I only ever have gone home for winter break; all the others I stay in Clemson or go somewhere with a friend. It's been that way for a long time, and my parents and I especially have a vast amount of differing opinions on how life should be. At one point I thought about always writing down the things that ticked me off about them each day so that in the future I would have something to look back on when I had kids of my own.
That only lasted a few days, but the point is still the same; we don't get along. I have a tendency to compare my quality of life with that of other kids', which is, unfortunately for me, rather upsetting since it makes a lot of things in my life seem unfair. Since I started high school, I have always been bickering with my parents in my spare time. I don't go to church with my family, I have gotten tattoos, I don't answer their phone calls and they've stopped calling because they know I won't answer.
Generally, I dread going home. Coming from a rich town means all the kids' parents feed their kids' selfishness and gluttony. People get cars like Mercedes', BMWs, and Jaguars for their birthdays, on the day they first get their license. Parents have financed their booze-ridden parties and supplied drugs for others. I don't feel like I fit in in this town, and we have a terrible reputation for being stuck up and arrogant. I'm almost ashamed of where I grew up. And that's why I hate going home, is because I have to see these people. In their eyes, I perhaps disappeared off the face of the earth, basically leaving for South Carolina without so much as a facebook status. I used to wonder if anyone who I left behind from my town wondered where I went.
I no longer care.
The point is, this time, I'm kinda looking forward to going home. Talking with my brother last night realized how much I miss him and miss having him around. It's like I'm missing out on a big part of his life (high school). And I know 100% all the garbage he has to put up with being the only one at home with my parents. Things get blamed on you, you get constantly harassed to do your work, you are not allowed to do this or that, and there are a billion and one rules to follow. They make you go to bed, and argue that because you're up, they have to stay up until you go to bed. I never understood that. Maybe I make them sound worse than they are... but I know from experience it's always been a struggle with them, and my brother has the same issues with them that I did and still do.
As the years went on and I went off to college, I feel that the bond with my brother has grown stronger, despite the fact that we don't talk very much and we are a long ways away. We are always able to sympathize with each other, because we both go through a lot of the same stuff. We are extremely similar in the way we handle things and what ticks us off. I do my best to set a good example, but I would say he helps me just as often as I help him. (He probably doesn't even know it, either, while he's reading this)
I'm really sorry for all those out there who don't have a strong sibling bond like that, or all those who are only children and may not ever experience it. It's really something special, and that's why I decided to memorialize it with the tattoo on my left arm, saying Brothers Forever in an ambigram-ish sort of way. The ambigram is symbolic of the reciprocation of the help given and received, in a never ending cycle. Not only will he always be my brother by blood, but he'll be the best thing in a family I could ever have asked for.
I appreciate him more than he knows, and I'm always pullin for him, whether he knows it or not. It kills me when I see him get let down or dumped or having my parents dump their problems on him. It's not right. But just so he knows I've always got his back, no matter what. When he's old enough, I'm told the plan is to get the same tattoo, so we'll be matching.
But for now, I'll settle for just being able to spend some quality time with home over break. He also turns 17 on Thursday, so happy birthday buddy. Good to have you in the fam.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
still looking
Over the past few years I've dated a few girls, and there have been a lot that I started talking with and thought, hm maybe.... but it seems like no matter what I do, something is always a bit off. I guess you could say I'm picky when it comes to people. There's a few things I truly look for: a focus on religion, the same view as mine with sex (as in, not until marriage), trust, and honesty.
Though it seems like I can never find the right combination (except in maybe one case). And I can't help but wonder if that one person will show up one day. I always get my hopes up too high and I end up getting let down. I know that I just have to be patient, that God has someone special for me. But I can't get it out of my head that maybe there won't be. Maybe I'll just end up going solo. Strangely enough, I feel like I could live with that -- but then I always think about my dreams of having a family someday, and being able to watch my kids grow up, and being able to be with someone I love unconditionally and who unconditionally loves me.
Emotionally, I consider myself a special case. There's a lot of things that go through my head and I guess a complex heart. There's a lot I don't share about myself and though I may seem real outgoing and talkative, it's generally not about those things that are near and dear to me. There's a lot of things that may bug me that people don't even know about. If you break down that wall and can talk to me about things that are real important to me -- consider yourself lucky. Because I don't often open up unless I really trust you.
That being said, I have no idea how the heck the right girl will ever happen. And I think that maybe I want it too bad sometimes. That I want to be able to share my life so badly and have a special bond with one person that I may overlook things that bother me and not bring them up for fear of them not working out.
Maybe I'm just such an odd mix of things that the combination is just not very compatible. And I think that's one of the reasons why the military is so appealing. Not only was my grandfather in the navy which was inspiring, but I've always just wanted to do it. Life would be less complicated that way, right? Taking orders, and just doing what I'm told. Always a single clear goal, one objective at a time. In the daydreams I have about it, when I envision the arrival back home; I see all the other soldiers having families there waiting for them, or a girlfriend or wife, and when I walk off the plane, it's just me. And I just feel like that's the way it'd be, and I can't for the life of me tell you why.
Sometimes I see myself just sort of living my life for me, and not having a family or anything like that. The sort of life where I don't even have a home, but just travel around and experience life and the world around me, with my guitar or something like that. But I feel like I'd miss out on a lot if I did that.
I think there's just a lot going on in my head right now. I wish that everything was crystal clear, but I guess where would the fun be in that? Nothing is truly clear cut, and that's one of the most interesting and challenging things about life. I often don't understand why things happen to me, or why they happen in general. But regardless, they happen. And I'd like to think God has some extraordinary plan out there for me. But, maybe not. Maybe I'm just gonna go through life, and that's it. I feel that, at least partially, life is what you make of it. And so I suppose my goal should be to put in as much as I can.
I have so many goals, and time seems to fly by. It blows my mind that I've already lived for 20 years. But maybe I need to put aside my desires and wants for awhile, and just let life happen. You know, stop worrying about what has happened and what will happen, and instead, focus on what's currently happen. The other day on the way over to Lee Hall I just looked up and took a good look at the sky. Have you ever noticed how perfectly blue it is? Pretty amazing stuff. Living in the present is one of my biggest challenges, because I am always worried about what is going to happen next, whether that future event is going to be minutes or hours or years later.
Who knows what's going to happen in the future. I know I want someone in my life for the long haul, someone I can start a family with and really spend some serious time with. I know I want my relationship to God to be a good one. And I don't want to lose my religion; after all that's what that one tattoo was all about. I'm getting better in my religious relationship -- but I haven't found that person yet. And it hurts every time things don't work out. So, I have no idea what to do. Because if those things happen, there's nothing you can do about it. It's just -- well, it's life. It's pretty much out of our control. So until then I'll write out my feelings and sing out my emotions, do my best to be a morally good person and let God know, that I'm ready for Him, and whatever great things he has planned for me.
Though it seems like I can never find the right combination (except in maybe one case). And I can't help but wonder if that one person will show up one day. I always get my hopes up too high and I end up getting let down. I know that I just have to be patient, that God has someone special for me. But I can't get it out of my head that maybe there won't be. Maybe I'll just end up going solo. Strangely enough, I feel like I could live with that -- but then I always think about my dreams of having a family someday, and being able to watch my kids grow up, and being able to be with someone I love unconditionally and who unconditionally loves me.
Emotionally, I consider myself a special case. There's a lot of things that go through my head and I guess a complex heart. There's a lot I don't share about myself and though I may seem real outgoing and talkative, it's generally not about those things that are near and dear to me. There's a lot of things that may bug me that people don't even know about. If you break down that wall and can talk to me about things that are real important to me -- consider yourself lucky. Because I don't often open up unless I really trust you.
That being said, I have no idea how the heck the right girl will ever happen. And I think that maybe I want it too bad sometimes. That I want to be able to share my life so badly and have a special bond with one person that I may overlook things that bother me and not bring them up for fear of them not working out.
Maybe I'm just such an odd mix of things that the combination is just not very compatible. And I think that's one of the reasons why the military is so appealing. Not only was my grandfather in the navy which was inspiring, but I've always just wanted to do it. Life would be less complicated that way, right? Taking orders, and just doing what I'm told. Always a single clear goal, one objective at a time. In the daydreams I have about it, when I envision the arrival back home; I see all the other soldiers having families there waiting for them, or a girlfriend or wife, and when I walk off the plane, it's just me. And I just feel like that's the way it'd be, and I can't for the life of me tell you why.
Sometimes I see myself just sort of living my life for me, and not having a family or anything like that. The sort of life where I don't even have a home, but just travel around and experience life and the world around me, with my guitar or something like that. But I feel like I'd miss out on a lot if I did that.
I think there's just a lot going on in my head right now. I wish that everything was crystal clear, but I guess where would the fun be in that? Nothing is truly clear cut, and that's one of the most interesting and challenging things about life. I often don't understand why things happen to me, or why they happen in general. But regardless, they happen. And I'd like to think God has some extraordinary plan out there for me. But, maybe not. Maybe I'm just gonna go through life, and that's it. I feel that, at least partially, life is what you make of it. And so I suppose my goal should be to put in as much as I can.
I have so many goals, and time seems to fly by. It blows my mind that I've already lived for 20 years. But maybe I need to put aside my desires and wants for awhile, and just let life happen. You know, stop worrying about what has happened and what will happen, and instead, focus on what's currently happen. The other day on the way over to Lee Hall I just looked up and took a good look at the sky. Have you ever noticed how perfectly blue it is? Pretty amazing stuff. Living in the present is one of my biggest challenges, because I am always worried about what is going to happen next, whether that future event is going to be minutes or hours or years later.
Who knows what's going to happen in the future. I know I want someone in my life for the long haul, someone I can start a family with and really spend some serious time with. I know I want my relationship to God to be a good one. And I don't want to lose my religion; after all that's what that one tattoo was all about. I'm getting better in my religious relationship -- but I haven't found that person yet. And it hurts every time things don't work out. So, I have no idea what to do. Because if those things happen, there's nothing you can do about it. It's just -- well, it's life. It's pretty much out of our control. So until then I'll write out my feelings and sing out my emotions, do my best to be a morally good person and let God know, that I'm ready for Him, and whatever great things he has planned for me.
Friday, December 3, 2010
the end of the beginning.
Today was the last day of classes for the semester, and for most, just another day in life.
But to me, it was much more. Today marks the completion of my first semester of a real full-time, challenging, difficult studio. Today, I proved to myself that I can get through that ridiculous amount of work, make deadlines, and produce good projects, even if that means pulling the 30+ all nighters that I did this semester (and yes, that means I did not sleep for a cumulative month..).
The end of my first semester of studio brings about some really interesting feelings. In the back of my mind I am reminded that I have a final next Thursday... but in the forefront of my mind I realized how much I am going to miss that first group of people that were in my section of studio. We all started out as a group of individuals and we ended up as family by the end of the semester.
And this doesn't just go for the students, but I even feel much more comfortable with my studio professor. Hearing him say good luck and good work made me think shoot I'm not sure I want this semester to end yet. That may seem crazy, especially for those of you who know firsthand how much time I've spent at my desk in that one room in Lee Hall. Sure the workload is crazy, but we all knew that it was going to be. But what a sense of accomplishment when you get through it alive. Not that it would ever kill you obviously, but I know quite a few people who are dropping out of the major, realizing that this career path is not the choice for them. To be honest, it's gonna be really sad not seeing some of their faces next year. This semester has made me realize and has reinforced that this IS the right career choice for me. I love everything that we're doing. Sometimes I may think a project is stupid or I'm sick of working on it. Lord knows, I am grateful to finally be free from it for awhile.
But the point is, I feel like I've grown so close to these people in my major. In terms of those actually in my studio section, we've been to hell and back together. We've slaved away on projects, frantically worked up until deadlines, sweated through reviews, and helped each other out and pushed each other to our limits. I distinctly remember the moments right before our biggest project of the semester was due, those who had finished their projects were helping with the modeling for other people in our section who hadn't yet finished. I love that we all had that sort of connection, that we were all pulling for each other.
In terms of the rest of the people in the major, I know almost everybody. There are sadly still a few faces I don't know and haven't talked to. I know all of those people who I spent all nighters with all the time, and I have to say those late night/early morning trips to Cookout or McDonalds or BiLo were some of the best times I've had. I specifically remember flying down perimeter road on my bike with William at 330 or 4 in the morning and loving how freeing it was. It was little things like that that really brought us together. And now all of a sudden here we are at the end of the beginning.
So, some faces will go and find their new niche in life, but as for those that stay with us, I have no doubt that we'll grow even closer. It's really been a fun time, despite the work. There was nothing like walking into studio at 11pm and seeing those people that were always there and shooting a smile in their direction. Or being able to take a break from your own work to walk around and sightsee around the room, checking out what other people had been working on, and hearing how excited they were about their ideas for their own architectural masterpiece. I can honestly say that, walking around at the review today, I not only felt pride for my own project, but a bursting pride for all the other kids with their projects too.
People who aren't in the architecture major must think we're a cult or something, because all we ever do is hang out together or work together. To be completely honest, they've probably just about got it figured out. Being in this major, simply put, is somethin else. It's definitely becoming something near and dear to my heart, and I can't wait to embark on the next adventures that we have in the coming years as students in studio. It's gonna be a great upcoming 2 1/2 years.
So, in closing I just wanna direct some words to those who were in my section of studio: You guys were absolutely awesome. I could not have handpicked a better group of people to start a studio section with. From dealing with digital class to doing that stupid group speech, we did it all. And here we are, passing through the final review with final colors, and the time has really flown by. As some of us stay with Dave and others move to different studios, I know we're all destined for greatness. But know that you all have a dear place in my heart, and that I look forward to coming over and checking out your work next semester.
Yes, I'm at the end of the beginning.... but in the grand scheme of things, my story has just begun.
But to me, it was much more. Today marks the completion of my first semester of a real full-time, challenging, difficult studio. Today, I proved to myself that I can get through that ridiculous amount of work, make deadlines, and produce good projects, even if that means pulling the 30+ all nighters that I did this semester (and yes, that means I did not sleep for a cumulative month..).
The end of my first semester of studio brings about some really interesting feelings. In the back of my mind I am reminded that I have a final next Thursday... but in the forefront of my mind I realized how much I am going to miss that first group of people that were in my section of studio. We all started out as a group of individuals and we ended up as family by the end of the semester.
And this doesn't just go for the students, but I even feel much more comfortable with my studio professor. Hearing him say good luck and good work made me think shoot I'm not sure I want this semester to end yet. That may seem crazy, especially for those of you who know firsthand how much time I've spent at my desk in that one room in Lee Hall. Sure the workload is crazy, but we all knew that it was going to be. But what a sense of accomplishment when you get through it alive. Not that it would ever kill you obviously, but I know quite a few people who are dropping out of the major, realizing that this career path is not the choice for them. To be honest, it's gonna be really sad not seeing some of their faces next year. This semester has made me realize and has reinforced that this IS the right career choice for me. I love everything that we're doing. Sometimes I may think a project is stupid or I'm sick of working on it. Lord knows, I am grateful to finally be free from it for awhile.
But the point is, I feel like I've grown so close to these people in my major. In terms of those actually in my studio section, we've been to hell and back together. We've slaved away on projects, frantically worked up until deadlines, sweated through reviews, and helped each other out and pushed each other to our limits. I distinctly remember the moments right before our biggest project of the semester was due, those who had finished their projects were helping with the modeling for other people in our section who hadn't yet finished. I love that we all had that sort of connection, that we were all pulling for each other.
In terms of the rest of the people in the major, I know almost everybody. There are sadly still a few faces I don't know and haven't talked to. I know all of those people who I spent all nighters with all the time, and I have to say those late night/early morning trips to Cookout or McDonalds or BiLo were some of the best times I've had. I specifically remember flying down perimeter road on my bike with William at 330 or 4 in the morning and loving how freeing it was. It was little things like that that really brought us together. And now all of a sudden here we are at the end of the beginning.
So, some faces will go and find their new niche in life, but as for those that stay with us, I have no doubt that we'll grow even closer. It's really been a fun time, despite the work. There was nothing like walking into studio at 11pm and seeing those people that were always there and shooting a smile in their direction. Or being able to take a break from your own work to walk around and sightsee around the room, checking out what other people had been working on, and hearing how excited they were about their ideas for their own architectural masterpiece. I can honestly say that, walking around at the review today, I not only felt pride for my own project, but a bursting pride for all the other kids with their projects too.
People who aren't in the architecture major must think we're a cult or something, because all we ever do is hang out together or work together. To be completely honest, they've probably just about got it figured out. Being in this major, simply put, is somethin else. It's definitely becoming something near and dear to my heart, and I can't wait to embark on the next adventures that we have in the coming years as students in studio. It's gonna be a great upcoming 2 1/2 years.
So, in closing I just wanna direct some words to those who were in my section of studio: You guys were absolutely awesome. I could not have handpicked a better group of people to start a studio section with. From dealing with digital class to doing that stupid group speech, we did it all. And here we are, passing through the final review with final colors, and the time has really flown by. As some of us stay with Dave and others move to different studios, I know we're all destined for greatness. But know that you all have a dear place in my heart, and that I look forward to coming over and checking out your work next semester.
Yes, I'm at the end of the beginning.... but in the grand scheme of things, my story has just begun.
a.d.i.d.a.s.
The thrill of the competition.
What a adrenaline pump. To be up there, no matter the sport, no matter the setting, or how competitive it is. The joy of victory -- and the disappointment entwined with loss. It must seem silly to those not inclined to participate in athletic activities, that we get so involved in our exercise. But to some it isn't simply exercise.
To some it is their worldly escape.
To others it is their passion.
And to others still, it is there life.
I don't fall into one of those categories, but I must say I love sports (hence the "all day i dream about sports" reference". The interesting thing is that you can invest a ton of time into them, and at the end of the road you have no idea whether it will get you somewhere or nowhere. Sure it's great exercise (unless you're doing something like ping pong...) but there is something about that competition that is just so intoxicating to me. It's like a natural high and when it's a challenge to win, it's even better.
Tonight we played in the intramural volleyball championship. The teams were evenly matched, and every point was a battle. I was loving it, but I knew it would make it a lot harder to win. We battled our way through the first game barely pulling out the win, 25-23, coming back from a 7 or 8 point deficit.
The second game, we struggled -- and lost. The third, was close again, but we had some crucial errors and ended up losing 15-12. Crazy, that we made it that far and ending up losing. Although despite my naturally extreme competitive behavior, I actually wasn't that disappointed. We were all a little off today. I think I only got one serve over the net (and had a lot that were damn close unfortunately). But that's part of the game. Preparing yourself not only physically, but mentally.
A teammate of mine got real frustrated after one particular play and I told him to keep his cool, it was only one point, we'd get the next one. That's one of things I've fought for years -- the ability to control my emotion. I get so wrapped up in the sport that I often get so frustrated with my performance that my skills begin to deteriorate, making me even more frustrated and disappointed in myself. He later thanked me after the game, for reminding him not to lose his cool. I was careful to make sure that I did not lose sight of my goal, but not to get so wrapped up in it that I got frustrated and just slammed the ball. Yeah, we didn't win, but now we have a goal for next year. I know I need to work on my serves. I know I need to practice my hits. But that's the great thing about sports -- you can always better yourself. And when you get there, boy, what a feeling of accomplishment. I love that feeling after i've worked really hard to improve.
It's interesting the vast variety of sports that there are. Individual v. team, big team v. small team, play with your hands v. play with your feet v. play with both. There's pretty much something for everyone out there. But with every single one, there's that general rule -- prepare yourself physically, keep your cool mentally, and always strive to be the best you can be.
What a good rule to apply to life in general, huh? Imagine a world where everyone had such a profound motivation for things that they got them done ahead of schedule, and outdid themselves and the requests of those who they work for, or a professor they have. Funny I should say this, as I sit here in the library blogging instead of actually working on the magazine I have due tomorrow for English class. Even so, where is that motivation, that drive, that desire in my studies? If I'm in the right major, and that's the right career choice, shouldn't it be there? What is it about sports that makes it intoxicating, what is it that gets people so heated about it? On a more practical level, it doesn't even make sense that sports would placed above our daily lives. Think about it -- if we work hard in the work world, we can look forward to a nicer paycheck, a better state of living, a sense of accomplishment, recognition in your field and from your bosses, and yet we still procrastinate endlessly and put off our work to do other things. But sports -- sports include one thing that a job does not: fun. But wait; shouldn't a job be fun if it's what you want to do?
I guess so. I've kinda wandered a bit through all of this, I'm just kinda writing as it comes to my head, sort of stream-of-consciousness-esque. I guess the game tonight just got me to thinking. I would love to apply that drive and inspiration to what I'm doing in school. I'm sure I'll get there, it's just a matter of time. But for now; why not try to find that one thing that blows your mind and no matter what you do, you can't get enough of it -- I can pretty much guarantee a fulfilling life if you find that one thing.
And on that note, I bid you adieu, in order to finish this project. Last day of classes tomorrow! Pretty dang excited, I'm ready for a break.
What a adrenaline pump. To be up there, no matter the sport, no matter the setting, or how competitive it is. The joy of victory -- and the disappointment entwined with loss. It must seem silly to those not inclined to participate in athletic activities, that we get so involved in our exercise. But to some it isn't simply exercise.
To some it is their worldly escape.
To others it is their passion.
And to others still, it is there life.
I don't fall into one of those categories, but I must say I love sports (hence the "all day i dream about sports" reference". The interesting thing is that you can invest a ton of time into them, and at the end of the road you have no idea whether it will get you somewhere or nowhere. Sure it's great exercise (unless you're doing something like ping pong...) but there is something about that competition that is just so intoxicating to me. It's like a natural high and when it's a challenge to win, it's even better.
Tonight we played in the intramural volleyball championship. The teams were evenly matched, and every point was a battle. I was loving it, but I knew it would make it a lot harder to win. We battled our way through the first game barely pulling out the win, 25-23, coming back from a 7 or 8 point deficit.
The second game, we struggled -- and lost. The third, was close again, but we had some crucial errors and ended up losing 15-12. Crazy, that we made it that far and ending up losing. Although despite my naturally extreme competitive behavior, I actually wasn't that disappointed. We were all a little off today. I think I only got one serve over the net (and had a lot that were damn close unfortunately). But that's part of the game. Preparing yourself not only physically, but mentally.
A teammate of mine got real frustrated after one particular play and I told him to keep his cool, it was only one point, we'd get the next one. That's one of things I've fought for years -- the ability to control my emotion. I get so wrapped up in the sport that I often get so frustrated with my performance that my skills begin to deteriorate, making me even more frustrated and disappointed in myself. He later thanked me after the game, for reminding him not to lose his cool. I was careful to make sure that I did not lose sight of my goal, but not to get so wrapped up in it that I got frustrated and just slammed the ball. Yeah, we didn't win, but now we have a goal for next year. I know I need to work on my serves. I know I need to practice my hits. But that's the great thing about sports -- you can always better yourself. And when you get there, boy, what a feeling of accomplishment. I love that feeling after i've worked really hard to improve.
It's interesting the vast variety of sports that there are. Individual v. team, big team v. small team, play with your hands v. play with your feet v. play with both. There's pretty much something for everyone out there. But with every single one, there's that general rule -- prepare yourself physically, keep your cool mentally, and always strive to be the best you can be.
What a good rule to apply to life in general, huh? Imagine a world where everyone had such a profound motivation for things that they got them done ahead of schedule, and outdid themselves and the requests of those who they work for, or a professor they have. Funny I should say this, as I sit here in the library blogging instead of actually working on the magazine I have due tomorrow for English class. Even so, where is that motivation, that drive, that desire in my studies? If I'm in the right major, and that's the right career choice, shouldn't it be there? What is it about sports that makes it intoxicating, what is it that gets people so heated about it? On a more practical level, it doesn't even make sense that sports would placed above our daily lives. Think about it -- if we work hard in the work world, we can look forward to a nicer paycheck, a better state of living, a sense of accomplishment, recognition in your field and from your bosses, and yet we still procrastinate endlessly and put off our work to do other things. But sports -- sports include one thing that a job does not: fun. But wait; shouldn't a job be fun if it's what you want to do?
I guess so. I've kinda wandered a bit through all of this, I'm just kinda writing as it comes to my head, sort of stream-of-consciousness-esque. I guess the game tonight just got me to thinking. I would love to apply that drive and inspiration to what I'm doing in school. I'm sure I'll get there, it's just a matter of time. But for now; why not try to find that one thing that blows your mind and no matter what you do, you can't get enough of it -- I can pretty much guarantee a fulfilling life if you find that one thing.
And on that note, I bid you adieu, in order to finish this project. Last day of classes tomorrow! Pretty dang excited, I'm ready for a break.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
friends.
Ever had that feeling that you've just discovered someone's true colors? That all of sudden, that person wasn't who you thought they were? It's such a disappointment. And it seems like it can happen at any time and at the time when you are least expecting it.
I sometimes wonder if people realize the type of person that they show themselves to be when they act like this. Have you ever asked someone to be a part of something and they just sort of blow you off to do something else that doesn't even make sense? Maybe people generally happen to have a sense of selfishness built inside them. I know I certainly struggle with it. In virtually every situation you can separate the decisions that would serve you from the ones that would help others. And I can pretty much guarantee that 9 times out of 10 we pick the one for personal gain. How sad that this is not more well realized.
Oddly enough, if you are the selfless one, the other person may be selfish in trying to get you to be selfless. (That was a mouthful..) What a weird world we live in. And the craziest thing is that if someone offends you like that, the person probably doesn't even realize they ticked you off -- unless of course you actually tell them.
I guess what I'm getting at is that I wish everyone supported each other more and were more selfless in general -- and this definitely does not exclude myself. Yet my mind is so constantly focused on what I want, or need, or think I need, that I think I am blinded by my own desire. Sure, I'm not a terrible person (or at least I'd like to think not) but there is always that part of me that knows that I can be better than I am. There are always improvements to be made and there are always things that we can do better.
But what really constitutes being a great friend? I've had friends I don't talk to for months. But it's just kinda understood that we're friends. Doesn't matter how long we're apart we pretty much just pick up right where we left off when we finally get to spend some time together. How cool is that? That the distance and the time means virtually nothing, and that the important thing is knowing you have someone who always has your back and will support you and encourage you in all that you do.
Those people are the ones I want to hold on to until my dying day. Because I know that no matter what challenges I face, no matter how face down in the dirt I feel, and no matter what happens, I have them right beside me. I am so thankful for those people.
Ever eaten a meal with someone in complete silence and had it be no big deal? Sometimes people just click like that. And yet there are times when I've eaten with people in silence and it has been the most awkward experience of my life, and I end up endlessly blabbing in order to fill the empty space. Why is it that it is so hard to let silence sit? Who knows. One of the mysteries of life I suppose, that sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. Maybe it's just that comfort of that person being there with you and knowing you're not alone.
So sure, friends can be a disappointment sometimes. But, that's life. In the end I feel that you have to remember that people come and go, and sometimes they don't realize what they're doing, or maybe I'm just making a big deal out of it and in the end it doesn't matter. In the end you're on your own, and sometimes you just gotta roll with it. Just really bugged me today, so I figured I'd talk about it. However, through all of this thought I feel I've been inspired to be there for more people if need be, and maybe check in with those who I haven't talked with in awhile (so HELLO! you know who you are).
So let me start that turning-over-of-a-new-leaf with this in closing:
If I sent you here and you're reading this, I got your back. May you excel in all that you do, and may God bless you endlessly. May you always feel comfortable giving me a call if you need anything, and may I always be able to be there for you when you need me. No matter what happens, I'll do my best to make things better for you, or at the very least provide an ear to listen with. Although no one is perfect, well; I can sure as hell try, for you.
I sometimes wonder if people realize the type of person that they show themselves to be when they act like this. Have you ever asked someone to be a part of something and they just sort of blow you off to do something else that doesn't even make sense? Maybe people generally happen to have a sense of selfishness built inside them. I know I certainly struggle with it. In virtually every situation you can separate the decisions that would serve you from the ones that would help others. And I can pretty much guarantee that 9 times out of 10 we pick the one for personal gain. How sad that this is not more well realized.
Oddly enough, if you are the selfless one, the other person may be selfish in trying to get you to be selfless. (That was a mouthful..) What a weird world we live in. And the craziest thing is that if someone offends you like that, the person probably doesn't even realize they ticked you off -- unless of course you actually tell them.
I guess what I'm getting at is that I wish everyone supported each other more and were more selfless in general -- and this definitely does not exclude myself. Yet my mind is so constantly focused on what I want, or need, or think I need, that I think I am blinded by my own desire. Sure, I'm not a terrible person (or at least I'd like to think not) but there is always that part of me that knows that I can be better than I am. There are always improvements to be made and there are always things that we can do better.
But what really constitutes being a great friend? I've had friends I don't talk to for months. But it's just kinda understood that we're friends. Doesn't matter how long we're apart we pretty much just pick up right where we left off when we finally get to spend some time together. How cool is that? That the distance and the time means virtually nothing, and that the important thing is knowing you have someone who always has your back and will support you and encourage you in all that you do.
Those people are the ones I want to hold on to until my dying day. Because I know that no matter what challenges I face, no matter how face down in the dirt I feel, and no matter what happens, I have them right beside me. I am so thankful for those people.
Ever eaten a meal with someone in complete silence and had it be no big deal? Sometimes people just click like that. And yet there are times when I've eaten with people in silence and it has been the most awkward experience of my life, and I end up endlessly blabbing in order to fill the empty space. Why is it that it is so hard to let silence sit? Who knows. One of the mysteries of life I suppose, that sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. Maybe it's just that comfort of that person being there with you and knowing you're not alone.
So sure, friends can be a disappointment sometimes. But, that's life. In the end I feel that you have to remember that people come and go, and sometimes they don't realize what they're doing, or maybe I'm just making a big deal out of it and in the end it doesn't matter. In the end you're on your own, and sometimes you just gotta roll with it. Just really bugged me today, so I figured I'd talk about it. However, through all of this thought I feel I've been inspired to be there for more people if need be, and maybe check in with those who I haven't talked with in awhile (so HELLO! you know who you are).
So let me start that turning-over-of-a-new-leaf with this in closing:
If I sent you here and you're reading this, I got your back. May you excel in all that you do, and may God bless you endlessly. May you always feel comfortable giving me a call if you need anything, and may I always be able to be there for you when you need me. No matter what happens, I'll do my best to make things better for you, or at the very least provide an ear to listen with. Although no one is perfect, well; I can sure as hell try, for you.
rain.
Rain.
What is it about the weather that can affect your mood so much?
Don't get me wrong, I love rain. I love the pitter-pattering it makes as it softly falls on the leaves of the trees. I love the mystery it creates when sheets of it hurdle toward the ground. I love the feeling of drops on your face as you look up into the clouds. I love the sound of the thunder, and feeling of your heart racing and you see lightning jump across the sky. I love the feeling of mud squishing under your bare feet. I love the sight of a child playing in the puddles.
But, at the same time, rain has its downsides. Walking to class through the rain is absolutely dreadful. I live for the feeling of the wind in my face as I ride my bike to class, and the hum of my tires on the asphalt. I live for the feeling of the grip tape against the longboard and the slap of my sneaker against the ground as I push myself down a hill. I love watching the blue sky as I weave my way down and across the road. When it rains, I end up slowly trudging to class, and today was especially bad since I had to wake up early for it too.
When I wake up in the morning and hear rain, it's a feeling of composite joy and sadness. I know the day is bound to be a dismal one where I dread going outside and may even change my schedule or walking route to avoid the rain. Luckily I have my music to listen to as I walk to class. But getting there with soaking feet and mud on your pants is simply not the way to go. It makes for a rather uncomfortable day.
Weird how something as simple as water falling from the sky can make or break your day. Wake up to a blue sky and sunshine, and it could make your day. Wake up to a blanket of clouds and pouring rain, looks like you'll spend most of your day trying to dry off and not leave your apartment. If something bad just happened, rain can make it all that much worse.
Oddly enough, one of the things I love most to do in the rain is drive. It doesn't matter where I'm going, and if gas wasn't so stinkin expensive I'd drive around for hours. Something about that feeling of going somewhere, and being on my own, shaded by this curtain of rain gets me inspired. Of course, got to have to music playing and singing along in the car.
It's hard to make an absolute judgment call on the stuff. Yeah, it can be a pain. But maybe we should look at it from a different point of view. What if we all woke up and praised the Lord for the rain that falls, that enables the plants to grow, and grass to stay green. That enables the sunny days to exist, as everything has an opposite.
I invite you to stop and take a moment to meditate a bit the next time it rains. Walk outside, barefoot, and in some normal clothes, and just take it all in. Lie down or just walk or just close your eyes, listen to the sound and feel it running down your face, your arms, your hands. Feel it puddle up around your feet and feel the ground hesitantly allowing itself to become soft and spongy for the time being instead of a concrete surface. Notice the birds that come out to get the worms that escape from a drowning underground, and the plants that reach for the water that will continue to give them life. It's a special thing --- and while it may sometimes be a pain, why not show some love for the rain?
What is it about the weather that can affect your mood so much?
Don't get me wrong, I love rain. I love the pitter-pattering it makes as it softly falls on the leaves of the trees. I love the mystery it creates when sheets of it hurdle toward the ground. I love the feeling of drops on your face as you look up into the clouds. I love the sound of the thunder, and feeling of your heart racing and you see lightning jump across the sky. I love the feeling of mud squishing under your bare feet. I love the sight of a child playing in the puddles.
But, at the same time, rain has its downsides. Walking to class through the rain is absolutely dreadful. I live for the feeling of the wind in my face as I ride my bike to class, and the hum of my tires on the asphalt. I live for the feeling of the grip tape against the longboard and the slap of my sneaker against the ground as I push myself down a hill. I love watching the blue sky as I weave my way down and across the road. When it rains, I end up slowly trudging to class, and today was especially bad since I had to wake up early for it too.
When I wake up in the morning and hear rain, it's a feeling of composite joy and sadness. I know the day is bound to be a dismal one where I dread going outside and may even change my schedule or walking route to avoid the rain. Luckily I have my music to listen to as I walk to class. But getting there with soaking feet and mud on your pants is simply not the way to go. It makes for a rather uncomfortable day.
Weird how something as simple as water falling from the sky can make or break your day. Wake up to a blue sky and sunshine, and it could make your day. Wake up to a blanket of clouds and pouring rain, looks like you'll spend most of your day trying to dry off and not leave your apartment. If something bad just happened, rain can make it all that much worse.
Oddly enough, one of the things I love most to do in the rain is drive. It doesn't matter where I'm going, and if gas wasn't so stinkin expensive I'd drive around for hours. Something about that feeling of going somewhere, and being on my own, shaded by this curtain of rain gets me inspired. Of course, got to have to music playing and singing along in the car.
It's hard to make an absolute judgment call on the stuff. Yeah, it can be a pain. But maybe we should look at it from a different point of view. What if we all woke up and praised the Lord for the rain that falls, that enables the plants to grow, and grass to stay green. That enables the sunny days to exist, as everything has an opposite.
I invite you to stop and take a moment to meditate a bit the next time it rains. Walk outside, barefoot, and in some normal clothes, and just take it all in. Lie down or just walk or just close your eyes, listen to the sound and feel it running down your face, your arms, your hands. Feel it puddle up around your feet and feel the ground hesitantly allowing itself to become soft and spongy for the time being instead of a concrete surface. Notice the birds that come out to get the worms that escape from a drowning underground, and the plants that reach for the water that will continue to give them life. It's a special thing --- and while it may sometimes be a pain, why not show some love for the rain?
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