A Life Worth Living

So last night I was home alone.  My June was babysitting, bringin' in a little extra cash as she does.  I'm glad for it but bein' stuck at home isn't much fun.  I spent the night bein' rather unproductive.  I watched The Simpsons which semi-impressed me for the first time since season 10 and that's being generous really.  Bart was having existential problems.  He couldn't see the point of goin' on with life if he couldn't maintain happiness.  He didn't want to have one big adventure then go back to a normal life and feel like it was bland to what he had experienced.  It's an interesting premise.

As an Atheist, I and other Atheists I have encountered have had a similar problem.  It's hard to say what makes a life worth living without a generic and overly romanticised answer like God or friendship or love or destiny.  I want something I can really wrap my head around.  I want something in life to show someone and say this is what I spent doin' with my time here and damn it I'm proud of that.

God obviously doesn't work for me because I'm a non-believer.  I don't think there is a master plan for humans or Earth.  We do not actually triumph in any recognizable way over a devil.  God crafted no one's destiny to specifically be a beggar or a banker.  God didn't turn people into child rapists anymore than He turned people into police officers.  God doesn't send massive tsunamis anywhere because there is sin in the world.  None of that makes any sense and works in mysterious ways is a non-thinking man's way of just letting it go.

Books and movies would have you believe that when love hits you, you know it and it's perfect and awesome and there is nothing greater.  If that were true I don't think more than half of marriages would end in divorce.  People get a good feelin' about somebody and it's better than any feeling you can remember so it must be love right?  Sometimes the other person is kind of a jack ass and disrespects your siblings or hobbies and wants you to dress a certain way that you just don't feel comfortable with.  Sometimes what you think is love is just something else altogether.  I've had those.  I know plenty of people that have married someone they wish they hadn't.  Love will fool you plenty of times before you find the right one for you at the right time.  When something fools you that often and depends on another person it's hard to say that that's what the entirety of your life should be based on.  I've found love, I believe.  It's not easy to maintain that feeling all the time but we're gettin' better at it every day and I know there isn't a woman that I would trade her for.  I do not however live solely for her nor does she live solely for me.  We are to people that live and we want to be in each other's lives more than we want to be in anyone else's.  We don't know what adventures are coming but I want her to be along for mine and I want to be along for hers and we want adventures that are uniquely ours.  I could write a book on what it might mean to me to be in love but that's not what I mean to do here.  What I'm saying is that love is not the only thing worth living for.  You shouldn't end it all if you don't have nor should you spend your existence searching for a perfect soul mate.  It'll happen or it won't and that you can't do much about except to be yourself in a relationship.

Friendship is similar in that way.  You'd think that all the friends you make in your life are always gonna be there for you no matter what based on a damned Disney movie.  You remember that time we all went searching for some great treasure and all we found was the true meaning of friendship and how we've hung out everyday for the rest of our lives?  That never happened.  Even people that do have a wonderful experience together in real life don't stay in contact.  I went to Costa Rica and had a blast with people I've known for years, I quit talkin' to 'em as soon as we got back.  They were never really my circle of friends and at least one was a jackass. People grow up and turn into different people.  Some mature and have kids and get office jobs while others get stoned all the time and pay their light bill every couple of months and live off of welfare.  A lot of us fall somewhere in the middle.  The two don't always mix well and life gets busy and you move away and shit happens.  Friends are not the only thing that a person can live for either.  They can't make you happy and somedays you can't get a person to go to lunch with you no matter how many you call and it's not 'cause nobody likes you it's 'cause shit happens.  Yeah, if I could eat and not get fat and had time and money, I'd have 30 different lunch dates everyday with people I don't even know because it might be fun but I've gotta work and I will get fat.

Destiny to me is just as stupid as the idea of God.  If I never make it as a writer, it's my own fault.  I'm a bit lazy and could do more than I do now but I don't.  I know I need to.  I feel the urge to and I will.  I'm working on it, right now actually.  If I make it as a writer then that is because I made the choices that advanced my career.  What I will be and what I will do is not up to some destiny written in the stars.  Just like it isn't a bums destiny to be a bum.  He made some bad choices and missed some opportunities.  That's his life but no one sentenced him, before he was ever born, to be poor and out on the street.  Things happen and if you aren't careful bad things can happen to you.  Bad things will happen to you as they do to everyone but there are things you can avoid.  Don't touch that fire if you don't want to get burned.  Don't stick up for yourself if you want to get run all over.  Don't study if you want to be as dumb as a bump on a log.  You make your own damn destiny good or bad it's on you.

So, just what the hell is left to live for if there is no God, and destiny didn't write you in a special part in history, friends may drop off of the face of the planet, and love that fickle bitch may just screw you over? 

It may just be those few breathes of fresh air that make you appreciate bein' alive.  Like that moment when you are happy and proud of what you've done.  Or when you create something beautiful like a poem or a painting or a song that people actually wanna hear.  Or the feeling you get when you conquer your own fear of heights.  When you stand up to the bully that has been pickin' on you all semester.  Getting a date with the person of your dreams.  Whatever you do with your life it had better mean somethin' to you.  There's no sense in playin' it safe and savin' money and eating healthy if there is no spice in your life.  If you do everything as expected and without humor or music or love or your own personal flare why are you doing it at all?  Go out and be your own personal rock star.  Have a conversation with strangers in a coffee shop and make friends.  Tell jokes.  Make love.  Try new things.  Read books.  Watch movies.  Eat ice cream.  Go running.  Go play.  Go to concerts.  One thing alone will never do to make a life complete or happy, not the bible, not a drug, not a lover.  You gotta live life to appreciate it.  Find an adventure in every day.

Heirs to the Throne

Hope you guys had a happy Easter. Mine was good. Spent time with the family and goin' back and forth to Austin. Always a good time in Austin.

Last night I went to see a movie with one of my brothers. It was good I thought. It had a strong plot and the symbolism and family issues were definately there in the subtext. Not enough action for my brother but it was plenty for me.

It was nice to spend time with this brother that I see rarely. We got to talkin' about some serious issues. He was right about a lot of things.

I have known all of my life that I have been very fortunate to have my father. He has always been willing to help me any way he can. My mother, despite being less pleasant, has always been there for me as well. They have given me an advantage over lots of people by just being around and staying together. It has made things easy on me.

I currently work for the family business in an economy where I might otherwise be unemployed. I was able to finish highschool and graduate with my diploma. Of my six other siblings only one of my sisters has a diploma. A few others got a GED and the rest never finished school. These days that can make life hard on a person. I was lucky enough to get some college in as well. I even got my associate's degree. I have never had to spend a night in jail and my record is clean.

My siblings haven't always had the easiest time of things. There have been money problems, substance abuse, emotional problems and jail time. A lot of these can be traced bak to the difficulties their mothers and our father had. Dad's been married a few times and has a very conservative view of women. He's distrusting of them. That's been his experience with many women, they crew him over, sleep with other men, can't be trusted. It's likely that that's been their experience with him as well. So, like a lot of relationships, there's been a lot of hurt and nasty things said in anger. Dad's not one to apologize and I doubt his past wives are ready to dish one out either.

All this drama has created a big divide in these siblings of mine. Some of us are very close, others have grudges, others feel left out. It's not fair to everyone. I love my siblings. There are some I hardly know at all and that's a shame. Brothers and sisters should be the best friends we have in life. It hasn't been that way and our parents and their drama are partially to blame. The other half of the blame falls on us for letting that drama continue on for another generation.

Instead of calling up my brothers to meet me for a beer I sit at home. I don't think to invite them along on a trip out of town or to a special dinner or bowling. I don't do that for anyone really. But if we want this family to succeed and be close we have to make that effort to make each other feel wanted. We have to let grudges go and take responsibility for our parts in what has happened. I've been a jerk plenty to lots of people and not just my family. I think my family is the one group I've spent the least amount of time apologizing to.

I'm the youngest of seven children. I am not close with all seven and I have let them all down at some point or another. I'm sorry for all of that. I'm sorry if our family has had differences that pushed anyone away. I want to hep you through hard times and celebrate good times with you. I'm sorry if you feel I've been treated better than you. I know I've been treated very well. I'm glad for that but sorry that I feel I don't deserve it. I will try to be a better brother to all of you.

If you feel our father isn't good man, I assure you he is. All of his flaws and faults and failures, he's still the best man I know. He is a king in my eyes. We are all lucky to be his children. However, I know he has those same faults and flaws and he still has failed us at times. He is just a man like any of us. He has a lifetime of experience that has strengthened portions of him and damaged others. He is not perfect. He was a long way from perfect when he was young and with age he has closed the gap significantly.

We are the heirs to the throne. What will we do with that? Are we going to do our best to be our best to our friends and family? Or will we let bitterness and disappointment keep us down? We don't have to be our father or our mothers. We just have to do the best we can. We have to be someone we and our children can be proud of. We have to give those kids a kingdom worth inheriting.

Excelsior

I'm sure you've seen the Kony 2012 video by now. It's just one of quite a few problems I've seen in the last few weeks that I feel need to be addressed. We as a people, a nation, and a world seem to be heading in reverse to a less tolerant less intelligent world. I don't think anyone planned it that way. People are so emotional about some subjects and lazy about others that it makes for a nice blend of ignorance and hate.

Kony is a killer, undoubtedly. However, he is not unique. Saddam Hussein, Kim Jong Il, Osama Bin Laden, Joseph Stalin, The Ottoman Empire, The settlement of the America and eradication of the natives, and countless other occassions and people that we may not even be fully aware of. People got it in their head that Kony is something special. That this kind of thing doesn't happen everyday. So, when a page shows up on facebook and all they have to do is click "like" it makes this person so easy to hate, so easy to "fight". But there really is so much more to be done.

All this week I've read countless articles about all the hoops women may have to jump through to live a life that's only half decent. If a woman gets put on birth control, which is the responsible thing to do if you don't want to live in the middle of a crowd or to have a baby, some group of judgemental people will call her a slut. If she's not on birth control she runs the risk of becoming pregnant, not because she's a slut but because people only need to have one sexual encounter to become pregnant. We've got sixty year old millionaires making decisions for women of all shapes, color, and financial statuses. A lot of these men can't get along with their own wives, let alone their mistresses. How can they understand a woman well enough to make such huge life altering decisions? There are so many of those same men that seem to think The Bible is the beginning and end of all arguments. They use that book to decide that women shouldn't have abortions ever and they should be modest and celibate and submissive to men.

If your wife is not your equal how can you expect you daughter to be all that she can or your son to respect women at all? There was a time when religions had absolute and unquestioned control and you know what people did? They took their sons to mountain tops to kill them, oppressed minorities, started wars, and sacrificed animals. Religion is an archaic device holding us back from being a smarter society. We seem to like sticking with what we know. We know oppression so we hold on to it. We know being poor so we become comfortable with it. We know gasoline so we profit from it while destroying our planet.

Gas prices are going up, as they do every summer, and it's Obama's fault. I'm sure supply and demand, all the costs to turn oil into gas, coporate greed, the costs to get gas from one place to another have nothing to do with it. That's sarcasm. What I'm actually sure of is that politics has an influence on the economy in general but to pin the high cost of fuel all on one man is nothing short of ridiculous. And have you heard about the new bumper stickers? "Don't Re-nig"the slogan for anti-Obama bumper stickers that make reference to the infamous n-word. That's pretty obscene. Dislike a man for his politics or ideas but never the color of his skin.

Arizona still seems to be making its presence known as a land of intolerance as people there are attempting to get rid of ethnic studies courses. As long as there are people of different colors I feel there will always be a misunderstanding between so called "races". I don't even like that term. "What race are you?", as if color could separate you from the human race. A car is a car whether it's blue, red, or whatever. I don't understand how it can be 2012 and this is still an issue.

There's so much work to be done to make this world a better place. It all starts with education. Read everything you can, think for yourself, stand up for what you believe in. We need to be moving onward to bigger and better things. Excelsior!

The Carpenter and The Artist

There once were two brothers, twins, both good boys and both quite funny.
They had loving parents that worked hard to have enough money.

Father was strong and manly, Mother was soft and loving.
The boys grew up very well despite some minor pushing and shoving.

They often didn't see eye to eye but learned soon they didn't have to.
They still looked out for each other like brothers should do.

When the boys were men they went their separate ways.
To keep in touch, they wrote each other about their days.

One brother went on to be a carpenter and found his way to God.
The other brother became an artist and found religion to be quite odd.

The carpenter's family went to church to hear about the good book.
The artist took his kids to museums to give the art a long look.

When the brothers were old and aged they found themselves ill.
It was feared this disease they had might actually kill.

The carpenter sought his protection from the lord up above.
His friends and family gathered in prayer and displayed their love.

The artist came to see his brother and request he seek medical help.
The carpenter had a strong belief God would only do with his life as He felt.

Even though after a long fight the carpenter finally did pass,
No one was sad, they knew the lord had called him at last.

Now the artist wasn't one to leave things to God but instead to a man.
He took himself to the local doc and asked him to do all he can.

It wasn't easy, the treatments were rough, but the artist pulled through.
He didn't thank God, He thanked the doctor and his skills so true.

"Blasphemy!" cried his brother's most conservative friends.
"Credit given where credit is due." said the brother with a liberal sense.

The artist's views were not the carpenter's. Twins they were but never the same man.
They loved each other and did things their own way, the way two brothers can.

There's no one way, nor will there ever be, to live this life.
We can only respect each other's will and cause no man any strife.

Against All Odds

Today's the day. Don't punk out. It took a lot to get me to this point but I have to do it today. Don't punk out. No chickening out. I can't chicken out. I have to do this. Don't punk out.

Yeah, I have to go and make a fool in front of the most perfect person in the world and what do I have to offer?


I'm chubby. Yeah, chubby. Two-thirds of this country is overweight and among them, in all that chunkiness, I can't hide it. No sucking in my belly to look good. Not quite thin enough for that to work. It sucks. I love food. I can't help it. Milkshakes bring this kid to the yard. I wheeze a little when I get there though. I try working out once in a while. It hasn't really worked out for me. It's a lot easier to find a Coke and a sandwich than it is to find an interest in running or eating celery.

I'm nerdy. It's not enough that I love, love, love comics but somehow I'm also the most socially awkward kid in the ninth grade. You ever think to yourself and your like, having a conversation with yourself and then all of a sudden what you were thinking becomes an audible word that makes no sense. "Guggenheim." No reason for it. Just blurted it out in math class once. Everybody laughed. Everyday it happens with different words. Also, I dig video games. That's pretty typical for a kid my age but I get a little obsessive with it. There are a few people that threaten my life online each night after I hand them a nice butt whipping. I killed more zombie's and monsters than Dahmer, Gacy, and Voldemort killed people. And wizards.

You would think a kid this nerdy would be like ridiculously super smart too, right? Nopers. I'm not a dumb-ass but it's been a long time since I've seen an 'A' on my report card. I'm not really that great at paying attention. I get lost in my train of thought sometimes and when, well, when I'm doing anything mostly.

Okay, all those qualities make me a big winner, right? Yeah...thought so. Frowny face. I like to think I'm pretty funny though. Grandpa thought I was. He and I used to trade jokes all the time. He died three weeks ago. He had cancer. A few days before he died, he and I were talking in his hospital room.

"You gotta be who you are kiddo. Do what you wanna do. Love who you wanna love. Don't let anybody tell you who you are." He told me, "I loved you're grandmother more than anything in the world."

"In the early days, they told her I was all wrong for her. I was poor, mean, and had a family with a bad reputation. She took a chance with me. For that, I made good on my promises to her. I never strayed. I worked hard to give her what she left behind to be with me. I loved her more than any man ever loved a woman. She saw me and knew what I really was. I wasn't a bad man, I'd just been rough treated. She softened me up. She took a chance. I think when it comes to love you can't be afraid to take a chance. Play it smart but if you see somethin' special, take a chance and love whoever the hell you find worthy. No matter what anybody says."

I hugged him. He kissed my forehead and told me he loved me. His breathing weaker than I had ever known. Three days later, he died in surgery. That was the last day I'd seen him alive.

So, today, I take a chance. Today, I knock on the door of the most perfect person in all the world and I hope Chris sees something special in me. I knock and she answers the door. Golden hair shimmering in the sunlight. Blue eyes as beautiful as the clear waters surrounding a tropical island. Her skin wraps her body in silk. She's tall and thin. Everything a man could want. She gets straight A's. Her father is a doctor. Her mother is a lawyer. They are generous and kind to those around them.

I know this because she is kind and nice to me. In our English class, we talk a lot. She thinks I'm funny. She's never called me fat or stupid. She's even played video games with me. She looks at me in a way that makes me wonder sometimes if she's interested in me. Sometimes the things she says make me wonder too. That's why I'm here. Poor, chubby, all wrong for her but maybe I've got a chance.

"Hey, Sam." She says smiling.

In a daze, I pour my heart out. I tell her I think she's beautiful, great in every way, and that I want to be with her. I tell her I hope there's a chance that somehow she can find it in her heart to return my feelings. I hand her the flowers I bought for her. I wipe the sweat from my palms on my pants. I feel ready to pass out. My knees are weak. They want to buckle.

She seems shocked for a moment. She stammers. She laughs and then apologizes. She rejects me. "I don't feel that way about you." She says, "I don't feel that way about any girl."

I don't think that's true. I explain why I thought I had a shot. I explain about the way she would lay her head on my shoulder when we watched a movie. I remind her of the way she looks at me. I remind her of her "secret crushes" on different girls in our school. There were a lot of reasons I thought she might feel the same way.

I think the "secret crushes" struck a nerve. She looked surprised. She shoved me away from the door and slammed it in my face. "Christina!" I shouted. I heard her lock the door and run upstairs. I left.

I went to a quiet patch of woods behind my house. There was a tree I like to hang out in sometimes. I smoke there when I'm feeling especially like a reject. Today wound up being one of those days.

I don't know why I can't be like other girls my own age. I like some girly stuff. I like pink. I played with dolls growing up. I don't really like dresses. I don't like boys. I never really have. I tried to make it work before. I kissed a boy and hated it. I pushed through. He tried to get me to give him head. I almost threw up. Life's too short to suck a dick if you don't have to.

I just want to be me and be accepted that way. I'm not crazy. There's no pill I can take that will make me like boys. If I'm forced to be with a boy we'll both end up miserable. I have to be who I am. There's no way around it.

I hear some branches breaking and I see a girl about my age walking through the trees. She spots me hanging out in my tree. "Hey." She says.

"Hey." I say, "I'm Sam."

She smiles, "I'm Jackie."

Jackie just moved into the new neighborhood being built behind the woods. We smoke together and talk for hours. Her dad is an author. Her mom is a Veterinarian. She's funny, reads comics, makes mostly A's, and has mole on her neck she's very self conscious about. Turns out she digs girls too. In particular, this one.

Adamantium

Another year gone by. Today's the third. Come the twenty-first I'll be twenty-eight.

I'm getting fatter. My back hurts pretty constantly now. I'm still broke. I'm still unpublished. I've been lazy and tired for a while. Too long. All I want to do is quit. I wanna just lay down, settle for being a terrible plumber and run Dad's business, marry my sweetheart and start having kids like everybody else. I want to settle for what's easy. I want to be done pushing and trying. I want to do that because part of me thinks nothing better will ever happen. That part is weak and frail. It thinks the rest of me is like that.

So you know what that means I have to do right?

Of course you do. It's plain to see. That part of me that wants to quit is tiny, insignificant. Like a whiny child it sits in my way looking to pout and cry its way nowhere. I do not let the child convert me. I dig my feet down. I draw strength from the world around me. I push harder than I've pushed in a long time. I get one thing right. I get another right. I eat healthier. I work out more. I write more. I look for an agent. I look for a publisher. I work harder. I try harder. I become more responsible. I save more. I become like steel. I become like adamantium. I become unbreakable. I do what has to be done. The whiny child bends to my adamantium. He becomes the unbreakable metal along with me. I will go so far, so fast, that like the winds of a hurricane I will drag those around me along for the ride.

There's no time to settle for anything less than the best that I can do. There's no point in such a thing. Why bother existing if I will settle for "never quite tried hard enough"? If I were a sword, I should belong to the greatest swordsman, I should be as sharp as possible at all times, I should be clean and well maintained. I should not fall into disrepair nor should I remain unused.

I am a writer. I write words to tell stories, to bring about emotions, to encourage, to warn, to create. I have a talent for it. I have a talent that can make me more powerful than any weapon. I can influence the hearts and minds of anyone that can read or listen to my words. I can make someone feel like they are royalty or I can make them cower under their own fears. I can make someone love or hate me. I can be a very powerful man if I can reach the right audience.

I am very lucky to have this talent. Everyday I use it, it only grows stronger. I must not squander this ability. I can not use it to write instructions for electronics. I have to encourage love, truth, and happiness. I must be at my best. There is no room for anything less.

You have your talents. You must use them in the same way. Never give up on yourself. Find your talents and use them as best you can. Use them in a way that gives your life meaning to you. We only have a certain number of breaths to take. Use them as wisely as you can. Never stop learning. Never stop trying.

It's not easy. Don't fool yourself thinking it will be. It's hard. It might be expensive. You may need help. If you plan accordingly and make the sacrifices you need to make and never sacrifice the things that truly matter like honor and true love you will be in a better place soon enough.

That Big Bad End

A dusty road in the middle of a shanty of a town.

Little more than old boards and rusty nails on the flat landscape.

Two figures heated with sunlight and aggresion stomp towards one another. Fear is in them both. Not a fear of each other. They hate each other, at least at the moment. A small argument between big egos creates one hell of a rift. A rift that can only be sealed with a searing hot metal. Anything else would only be logical.

Doesn't matter anymore who's right or wrong. In the blinding hot sun, neither can see only one could ever be called a winner. And it's neither of the participants. It's a rigged game they play. This one goes or that one does. Doesn't matter to either of them. The machines are in place, well-oiled, and ready for use. They feel heavy in a hand. As efficient as they are at what they do they never feel quite right in a hand. Not good to hang on to that power for too long anyway.

Then it's time. The dispute has to be settled. It's not like in any movie. No quick draw seen from seven angles. No woman to win, as if they could ever be. No halt, stumble, and fall. This scene is insanely sloppy and thunderously loud. Speed, violence, and poorly dispensed power whistle through the air. Some of it strikes the intended targets, some thrashes the scenery, still more strikes those completely uninvolved.

Blood splatters. Bone splinters. One has already gone, too small to be seen by anything but a fleck of metal and her mother. Breathing is made difficult. Hard to move anything, the bodies are so weak. Tears well up from strained eyes. Pain comes along to torture those still gasping for air. More pain than either bloodied figure ever expected. They're being pulled from this world tooth by tooth, or at least that's how they feel. Losing a bit of themselves day by day. A bit of blood, a bit of flesh, a bit of love or maybe respect from a family that doesn't understand why, all wasting away. They gain a fever and gangrene. They begin to understand that they won't be walking away from this or anything else anymore. How much life was left for them to live? How much better could they have done by their children? What comes next?

That ravenous vulture is taking his time coming. Coasting, unseen, for any prey he may take first. After three days, they beg for release. He comes after seven. Still unseen he takes them for his own, same as the girl, same as countless others before. Their argument is long forgotten and only Death has gained anything from the experience.