Bastards Of Our Youth

Not in an illegitimate sense.

Family. My family has always been a family of three. Me, my mom and my dad. No one's truly ever been allowed into the circle, as far as I've witnessed it. It's always been about the three of us. I've never thought it was really a bad thing. In fact, I thought that everyone's families were this way. I was surprised to discover that the stories of families being more than the parents and children, but the aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, and family friends...they were all apart and this was real and happening, not archaic and tribal.

So I was shocked to find out that someone outside of my preconceived familial circle was so negatively affected by the way me and my family have viewed family. That she carried burdens of resentment through her adolescence and into her adulthood. It pains me that she hurts because I was a bastard child who thought there was only room for three people to matter in the world. And you'll believe whatever your parents tell you when you're little.

And don't try to say that I couldn't have been that bad. I was a little bastard kid. Even my mother said so.

So I was the bastard of her youth. My family was the ivory tower to her reality. While I have grown up, I can see how this view of family has made it so difficult for me to maintain relationships outside of my immediate circles. It makes me want to have the biggest, most open family for my children. That's why my closest friends will be their aunts and uncles and I will not stop having children until there is enough love in my house to warm the nation.

Maybe that's a bit much. And I'll probably have to consult with my wife.

I want at least two though.

So my own parents turned out to be the bastards of my youth. And we were the bastards of my cousin's youth. It hurts, but the latter isn't my burden to bear. She was 5, I was 7. How were we to know any better? I love her now. That's all I know, and that's all I can give.

As for me and my bastard parents, I love them too. And my issues with relationships are things I'll have to work out for myself. It's a good thing I've got an eternity to do that.

Something tells me time is good to a bastard.

(FB)

Shamelessness...

There was something different about this guy when he spoke. Unlike me, he wrote down his thoughts before hand, but he didn't plan everything out, the writings were just his thoughts on the matter.

And when he spoke he took his time; he made his points and was unapologetic in doing so. It wasn't that he wasn't diplomatic, cause he listened to everyone and weighed their words against his own. He was...well reasoned.

I guess what struck me the most about him was that he was shameless.

Shamelessness looks good.

mmm Minty...

I pop spearmint gum to keep my breath fresh.

More than I used to.

Because I never did before.

I want to set the precedent that my breath is always minty fresh. I'm all about establishing a good foundation.

working it out...

I didn't plan this.

If you understand anything about my past, understand this:

I would have never imagined that I'd be here.

But here I am. And I understand now that I have had a hand in it. I realize that my choices have led to both joy and heartbreak, but none to irreparable destruction. The full picture of my life fits into a story that I don't quite fully understand. But my life makes sense in the little bit that I do.

I am layers. And all the issues I'm working through right now will give way to more issues. This is a blessing. I must always stare myself down, face to face with my worst. I must wrestle with my failure and embrace my success. It never ends. It is an adventure. The adventure was never meant to end.

The changes we seek are happening as we speak. Whether we acknowledge it or not. It is better to acknowledge though.

I never planned any of this. But it is happening. And I'm making plans. Making decisions. Impacting and being impacted. I am constantly working out the meanings of my salvation. What else is there to do?

Wrestle with it and limp away.

I am flight.

One feather blossomed from beneath weathered skin

A postcard from far away.

Light flew from the pores of pebbles

Strewn across the ground.

Everything rumbled. The ground. The sky. The in-between places.

Hearts sizzled as they turned.

They were golden brown.

Somewhere piano keys were tinkling a melody.

A metronome beat. Time kept.

Seagulls opened their mouths over the surface

To swallow chaos whole. They never went hungry.

One feather blossomed through weathered skin.

One after another, after another.

Far away came home that day.

up in the air...

I had an idea last year for a radio show, something in the vein of This American Life. Even came up with a title, only thing I struggled with was actually bringing the idea to fruition. The plans stayed up in the air.

And this year, there's a show that's doing exactly what I had envisioned.

That's my mentality. Keep things up in the air and if they work out, more power to you, but if they don't, you never had any stake in it anyway. This is the pen I've written my story with.

The bulk of my struggle with the futility mentality rests partly in this separate but similar "up-in-the-air" mentality. Both say it's not up to me to decide whether or not something happens. Which means anything I do is useless, that there isn't anything I can do.

But there has to be, right? And maybe trying to find what I can do in some ethereal brain dumping isn't the answer. Maybe the answer is right in front of my face, in the reality I'm reach out to find.

There's truth everywhere. We've got to claim the truth we know to be...true. And if I believe this to be true, then maybe something else in my thinking is off.

I'm tired of creative writing. Of using metaphors to explain how I feel, to work through my emotions. I want to be blunt and straight-forward. I want my yes to be yes and my no to be no. And when I'm finished speaking or thinking, I don't want to qualify it. I just want to be

done.

why you need an anchor.

We've got to find ways to anchor ourselves.

There are too few moments of clarity. There are too many distractions. And the world is Las Vegas at midnight. Everyone weary and tired from their travels but the lights and the drink and the skin and the $.99 lobster buffet are much too intoxicating.

Ideally, we'd all be able to go back to a simpler time. But we don't live in simple times and there is no way to get back. We must accept things as they are, try to understand, and make change from this spot.

If we forget what really matters, what is really going on, then we'll be lost in the sea of lights and sensuality.