Taste of poison...

We all want to change and alter a part of our past so bad that it will forever dictate our future. We daydream constantly of endless evils we will conquer if only we had our present knowledge in the past. Why do we demolish the opportunity of a second chance if that's what we been searching for all along? Do we have a addiction to the conflicts we encounter while searching for the opportunity to make wrong right? And when that magical second chance actually presents it self to the undeserving soul we squeeze it so tight that it crumbles in our seasoned and unnurturing hands until all we are left with is a hollow shell filled with self pity. We watch the gift we been yearning for slip Thur our finger like sand. The tighter the grip the faster it runs away. We must have this primal attraction as adults to conflict and failure. We grow into our self manufactured pain. We per fer the bitter taste of wine over the sweet taste of desert. I myself is yearning for someone to give it all up for.I have severed the lifeline to my happiness for even the most undeserving individuals. Is it the sacrifice I am attached to or the pain that is sure to follow? I wanna hurt for someone's pleasure...

Lost love

Is it better to be loved and lost then never to be loved at all? Absolutely! I was afforded a wonderful gift which was absolute love and affection from a beautiful women and her god blessed child. I walked into the fragile lives of a pair, inseparable by all the evils and conflicts this harsh world has to offer and never took this opportunity for granted. The chance to be a great man to a even greater mom and her child was a trial i embraced and took this challenge whole hearted and with the greatest intention. All the efforts sadly are for not, i was kicked out and banned from my potential permanent family. My entire world was stripped and robbed from me in the blink of an eye. I was terminated from the proud and Nobel occupation of being a man and father figure. Drained from joy and happiness that they unintentionally gave me everyday. I have no regrets, for this short blessed time i had with my prospect family was one of the greatest experiences of my life. I proved to myself the 2010 version of myself is here to stay and no heart ache or conflict no matter how brutal would strip me from the progress i made and regress back to the undesired unscrupulous man i once was. With the total absence of hesitation i would take a life time of heart ache for the short and wonderful time spent with a family i am no longer a welcomed part of. A ounce of love is worth more than an infinite amount of pain that will follow.

Bring on the Night

I am closing it down, boarding up shop. I don't want the help. I want the pain to dig deep in and never leave. I plan on crawling into the dark; the very dark I once feared, the same dark I am now morbidly attracted too. I don't deserve to be rescued from the tormenting demons that breached my membrane and attached itself to my soul. I crave the opportunity to cut the throat of my happiness and severe any attachments to the participants that bring joy which I do not deserve. I am broken and unfix-able. I despise the entire concept of deserving anyway. I firmly believe nobody deserves anything you get what you earn. I haven't earned a single piece of happiness. I been camouflaging my misery and self hatred behind hollow dreams of successful desires. Truth is I am aroused with being scared and damaged. No matter how many times I attempt to bury my unorthodox desires, the raw truth finds it's way back into the light. A man can do a million things in a lifetime, however who he is remains deep within his soul where it's tamper proof. The dark stain that resides deep inside me is a born warrior, but this gifted citizens talents have been left to idle since I stripped myself from the honor I once possessed. Experience are supposed to define us, however this one deprived me. I am left with a eternity absent of destiny. I am black balled warrior with no place in this world. A requirement for my happiness is having a hand in the extinction of evil.

Crossroads

How do I distinguish the difference between sacrifice and self-destruction while under the influence of love? I have no hesitation in trading in my Paradise playboy lifestyle in Tampa. I will also ignore the financially wise decision and pass up my fathers offer to live with him while I attend a local university. And I will undoubtedly go thru with these actions for the love of a women I just met. I am not torn over these scarifies, for true love is far more valuable, however what if this love diminishes? Will these gracious sacrifices just become more self-destructive decisions I make on this mistake riddled life of mine if and when the fad of loving a "bad boy" wears off? where will i be then? In this pivital moment in my life where my sponsor has showed me the importance of responsible choices; should I follow my head or my heart? Looks to me the end will define my action. If we live happily ever after then it will just be an admirable sacrifice I made for love. If she becomes another failed relationship will I look back and view my actions as another episode where my defective heart poisoned my rational thinking? I guess I am left to decide what is the lesser of two evils. Going for love and coming up short once again or passing on the opportunity thus forever questioning the potency of our initial emotions. I am only a couple steps down this road to a higher quality of life and I have encountered my first crossroad. Love is to the right and logic to the left.

Dark Passenger

I never ride alone, Thur all my conflicts I have always had someone, that no matter how difficult it got he was always there. He is the constant voice that torments my sanity. Constantly offering advice on how to eliminate the pain, pushing me to scratch that itch, a itch that promotes emotional infection. My passenger cannot be left out he is everywhere I am, hes my worst enemy, he is my best friend. He knows how to solve my problems while being the root of my demise. The more I ignore his harsh voice the more intoxicating his advice becomes. Don't remember when we first meet, perhaps he was always with me. His advice and Demeanor however has evolved with me. My conflicts and experiences has made him into the bitter companion who I cant help but succumb to. I know I cant live with out him, but I must learn to live with him. He speaks to me more than ever when I am alone, when I am sad. The melancholy moments seem to drag him out of the darkness. His self-destructive preaching rings Thur my thoughts to a point where I agree to his wishes just one last time. Hes not a good friend but yet a friend. Does he not care that I do not wish to continue our old ways or does he just not believe in me? I want to move on I no longer want this relationship to continue however he is every part of me as I am of him. If the day ever comes where his voice will diminish to whisper, And in turn this whisper becomes silence, I will miss him. Although no matter how long my sidekick remains mute I know he will always be there waiting patiently for my inevitable invitation for his return. He has made his presents known more than ever this last month, however its been 31 days since I gave him my attention. For that I thank you.

Volunteer inmate

72 hours into a mission that was supposed to take 48 hours and yet I'm still waiting. There is a tingling feeling crawling up my jaw line, passing behind my ear before finding its final resting place and the base of my skull. This uncomfortable feeling is an obvious product of my cheek bone being pressed against the polymer stock of my rifle I fittingly named Medusa, because she instantly revokes the life of anyone who enter her line of sight. The longer this mission takes the more I cant wait to deliver 146 grains of justice into the soft flesh of a target known only to me as "hades." My motivation for terminating this threat has evolved in just 72 hours. My reason are no longer Nobel, for me he has become the warden and I am the prisoner. He alone holds the key to my release. Nourishing myself on only a packet of peanut butter and a bag of tropical skittles that remain from the elegant meals I was equipped with known as MRE's. As the hands on the clock continue to rotate I find myself hallucinating , second guessing the images passing Thur the cross hair that seemed to find itself burned in my retina. I am having trouble keeping it together. I haven't had a conversation other than the one in my head addressing the crinkled up Polaroid of my daughter who i have yet to meet. Obeying my strict orders to maintain radio silence I've come to only one conclusion. If I am not soon afforded the opportunity to end my misery with the execution of "hades" I will end it with my own. Only question left is how much longer can I hold out?

The "L" word

Love (luhv) noun.
1.a deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude towards a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness.

The single most intoxicating emotion that our complexed yet under developed brains can produce. To some a blessing to most a disability. What is love to me? Love is the single most element that freed me from the emotionless casual relationships that restrained me from my own happiness. The blessing layed upon me that I convincingly labeled as "love" has enlightened me and given me the confidence to take charge and alter aspects of life. Aspects I didn't feel I was worthy of upgrading. In the blink of eye I was overwhelmed with a invincible desire to sanitize my flaws and evolve into the caliber of man I deserve to be. Some will testify that love will alter someones logical perception and cloud the mind, I believe the opposite. True love, the love I am experiencing has given me the ability to feel and think at the same time. The decisions I make regarding this new found bond are clear and I make them without hesitation. For once in my life I undoubtedly know what I want and the path I must take to get there. Armored with this love I proudly walk down this path impenetrable knowing the passion we share will defect and with stand any conflict this journey has to offer. Love filled the hole where fear use to lie. You are the missing ingredient to my happiness. I love you

Any Given Sunday

With the sun breaking over the horizon on the the seventh day, men women and children fill a concrete prairie outside the site where battle will take place. These nomadic individuals set up for a pre-celebratory ritual where cooking and drinking is very popular. Approaching noon the ritual begins to come to a end. Mobs of average citizens dressed in colored rags that represent there heroes, raid the coliseum to cheer for there gridiron gladiators. Intoxicated by the fermented barley and hops they been slugging down all morning, the wait is almost over. As the crowd settles in and the armored heroes storm the Field moments before the battle is underway. Whats ironic is on this day we cheer for gladiator who runs and runs well. And we boo the combatants wearing the colors our rags don't represent. After the flip of a medallion twenty two of the best thoroughbreds our population has to offer will face off. Like prehistoric predators with the taste of blood these primer athletes wait for the scream of the whistle. Once set free by sound they charge each other and collide at speeds the average man could never reach. The crowd erupts as the clashing armor echos Threw the stadium. Football season has begun...

Image of a Generation

Does the footprint left behind change from generation to generation? We are taught to learn from our history or we are bound to repeat. Some see our generation as polar opposites from the one our parents have experienced, but who's is better? I see no difference and I see no progression. I have stood by my father at a young age and watched him cry with his hand touching a name etched in a endless wall of black granite, sadly I see the same fate for my son. I imagine him standing by me in absolute confusion and silence as he stairs at his father reflection in a monument that represents countless lost lives to a war that divide a country. My tears will spill on the site of a monument dedicated to the braves souls who gave there lives for a reason not agreed upon by the majority of there generation and there country, just as my fathers have spilled. When will this long awaited evolution of human progress take place. How do we rescue the next unborn generation from the pains our fathers and we have suffered. We have a responsibility and the ability to change the way our children live, to spare them the suffering and violence that plagued many generations. We must share with them the sacrifices of the men and women who came before them so they can honor them and most of all learn from them. I prey that all future generation be free of war and it is only us who can answer those prayers. I am forever grateful for the sacrifices given by our Armed Force and I prey one day you will be no longer needed.

Pitch Black

Imagine yourself surrounded by nothing but darkness, 360 degrees of conflict. All alone with no guidance or any evidence of a path that will lead to light. There is a piercing sound and its the the sound of absolute silence. You call out for help all you want , but not even your own echo will answer. This is the true definition of being alone. You look around trying to adjust your eyes, however your perfect vision cant penetrate the dense blackness that surrounds you. As you stand alone waiting for a clue, a reason to advance in a direction there is nothing. All the hope in the world cant manufacture a creek or whisper. The longer you wait the more you tell yourself to remain calm because there is a solution to every problem and a answer has to present itself sooner or later, the faster panic is setting in. You cant comprehend the possibility of a outcome where you never escape the darkness. At this precise moment your are wishing for the worst possible scenario for even that is better then the unknown. You muster up the courage to travel in a direction that seems endless. How long do you pursue a possibility before you try and double back? The longer you travel on this unsure path the more you start to think your heading in the wrong direction. As you turn to go back to your starting point you realize there is no going back. The unmeasurable absence of light has consumed you.You are stranded. Your sitting on a cold floor afraid to move, afraid to act because in this fragile state you cant afford another mistake. The time you spend pondering is not uncovering a single solution, but hind sight is 20/20. You cant find one way out, only a million of ways you could have avoided this entire solution with less conflict. Left with only promises you make yourself of how things will be different if you can just get past this, with hands completely tied all you ask for is a hint. At this delicate moment the definition of a savior is not someone to carry you out of this endless pit of night. The hero you are desperately yearning for can fill the shoes with just a point in the direction that will lead to your escape. You welcome all evil standing in the way as long as its the way. In this epic battle between you and the black hole prison in which you currently reside, who is going to come out on top?

from insanity to clarity

What does it take? What is the single factor that will change your life forever? When all things are wrong it can take only the slightest push in a direction that could forever correct ones eternity. In world of complicated confusion there is not a soul on this polluted and corrupted planet that can make it alone. In all successful lives (and when I say successful I leave it open any individuals interpretation of the word) there is always a motivator, a reminder to stay on track and keep clawing and fighting for the happiness we all pursue. Do you remember the day when it all made sense? For me it was on the LIRR heading eastbound in the late morning of January 1st 2010. How ironic yet cle'shea ones life does a complete 180 on the first day of a new decade. Only these where not my intentions. I gave no thought to what resolutions where needed to change my life and grant myself my own definition of success. I have perfect vision in the literal sense however where I gazed into any conflict it was as fuzzy and lacked the clarity necessary to see my solution. Well it all changed during a sarcastic conversation with this new found member of life I know refer to as "my sponsor" When I peered into her big brown eyes she hides behind green tinted contact lenses, It came clear. She became the perscripiton lens I needed to clarify the solutions hiding in the mist of my problems. A new decade has started and to those millions of souls out there with big plans and resolutions, I wish you luck and you should make those changes for nobody but yourself, however I hope you all have a ensighting factor a motivator that gives you a reason to keep pushing. I have one and vow never to surrender it. Good luck and God speed to all who take on the quest for change YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

Liquid courage

Ah the good old liquid courage, the magical potions that has devastating effects on our ability to make more desirable and "correct" choices. But isn't that exactly why we drink it? That feeling when a Frat boys stumbles down the stairs the following morning to a frat house full of brothers clapping. How about the long walk of shame witnessed on campuses across America of a young female college student with her skirt all twisted, a broken high heel and a dirty tee shirt her mistake picked up off his bedroom floor because her button down is mysteriously missing all the buttons, trying to make it to the shower to wash the eye liner that's running down her face that makes her look more like the joker from Dark Knight than a sexually desirable "college chick." To the non drinkers they don't understand why we do it. I mean no later than the following weekend after almost slipping into a unconscious state while on top of a creature where the only proof that it was even a female was the nasty untamed rats nest that lie between to very large thighs, were back at it again. Do we have some subconscious primitive attraction to embarrassment? Is it the fact that mistakes make way better stories then success? Ask your self this would you rather hear a story about one of your friends hooking up with the man or women of there dreams, or a miserable embarrassing story your force you friend to tell in a room full of people about the biggest mistake of the semester? The fact is readers misery loves company and drunks love company. Moral of the story, drink on folks, make mistakes often and life to the fullest. And remember learning the hard way will always have a more lasting impression then a lesson learned easy!

blogging

Well since this is my first of many blogs to come i thought it would be appropriate to blog about blogs. In a world where facebook twitter and blogs are a fast growing epidemic, does it eliminate the intimacy of a letter? I mean lets face it the days of a women sending her lover a perfume scented letter sealed with a kiss is over. Does this transformation in emotional communication actually make it less personal or more? In the old days when a man would receive a long awaited love letter, the emotions and feeling from the sender have most defiantly changed million times. Then she awaits his response where a out of site out of mind situation can easily take effect. Is the world of text messages and blogging actually an improvement? Is the lack of a unique letter in your lovers handwriting and scent with her lips sealing the envelope a fair trade for a instant taste of the many of emotions either party could be feeling worth it? I ask this, would you rather have the personal and unique letters with expired emotions or is the times new roman text where the only visual unique feature is a bold, italic or underlined text with up to the minute updates on what you significant other doing more important?