Been a while since I've posted anything. I joined a dating website because my buddy ED continuously tells me about how many girls he's picking up off this website. Since I've joined I've written several e-mails, and even Ed has written some e-mails using my account because he thinks that he can talk to women so well he can succeed no matter what. So far we haven't heard anything from the 23 women we sent e-mails too. I truly wish I hadn't of done any of this because it just reminds me that it sucks trying to get a date. I've been rationed like 2-3 dates a year and I've already filled that quota so I'm intentionally fulfilling this image of myself as a cursed, dead-soul loser that will never get a date. Life is easier when I think I'm happy playing COD and drinking.

I want to be happy... I'm a good person. I believe I am entitled to live a normal happy life. I will be creative and provide happiness in other people's lives.

Do you know what I'm missing? It has been a question I've pondered for a long time. I'm missing.......





A doggy!

My reality has been my friends. When I'm lost in the World, in-between my anchor, my truth is the love my friends have for me, and I for them. I've been away for a long time. Too long. My reality is starting to fade away from me. I'm more fearful now than I ever have before that I will no longer have a home when I return to Washington. My life for the last 5 years has been travel. Temporary. Meet somebody who is supposed to be your boss for two weeks, size them up in your head in 10 minutes, then pretend to be someone they would like, and do whatever job is asked of you. That mentality made me incredibly successful at the 'elite' command. Career wise, I figured it out pretty easily. It has been a while since I've had a 'career' problem. I've never thought my personal life would consume the large portion of my worry, but here I am. Connections are what I'm missing. Not sure if 'intimicy' is the correct word, but that's pretty much as real as it gets, right? I volunteered to go to Pakistan for 9 months today, and then immediately following that I will be posted to some other location in the World. I know I'm supposed to be enjoying this. Traveling the World as a "Super Secret" government type, doing pretty much whatever I want and getting paid great money to do awesome work....But it just feels wrong that I can't share these experiences with my friends. Eating big-ass lobsters on a white sand beach in Haiti's finest resort on their northern shore was supposed to be great, but I couldn't enjoy it because I couldn't share the beauty of the moment with my boys. I know that my loyalty will never faulter. I just hope that in 3 years I will be able to latch on to some kind of true comfort during my transition from servant to leader.

I'll give anything ever at any point in my life to hook the interest of any woman. I will literally give a testicle to hold a conversation with a woman. Pathetic? Fuckin right it's pathetic. I have no other option.

All I want is a woman who will be with me. The only way to get a woman is to talk to her. When I talk to a woman she will look elsewhere. What words do I speak to induce interest? What is the code I should have learned years ago? Why didn't I learn the secret?

Sharing the really intimate details of my life is supposed to be the point of this right? Last night I got drunk and texted my sister Kim the following. "Kim, you're a terrible sister. Go fuck yourself". I had forgotten all about it. I talked to my sister Katy yesterday for about 2 hours. Most of which was good conversation, but it ended up in me basically saying I'm disgusted by what she did to Shain, and she's a pretty lousy person. I think I used the phrase "you're an embarassment to me" at some point. Kimmy called me today and asked me why I sent her that text yesterday. Immediately I was embarassed about what I had said, so I immediately said "Because you ARE a terrible sister, and you can go fuck yourself". I hadn't had anything to drink at all today, mind you. I then told her that I truly don't give a shit about if she's alive or not, then interrupted her talking multiple times to remind her I don't care about anything she says. Then I hung up on her in mid-sentence. My brother called me shortly after that. He asked me how I was doing and I let him know I was great. Then there was some akward silence and I told him "I'm going to go now. Have a good one". Then I hung up.

My mom looks at me with an odd worry when I see her. My sisters probably won't talk to me for a while, and my brother is probably confused, and will continue on with his life. In 24 hours I've alienated myself from my family. Why the hell did I do that? I'm scared I fucked up. I don't dislike them. I love them. Why have I been horrible to them for absolutely no reason? It doesn't make sense. What is happening to me? I'm becoming the most hateful person I've ever known. I truly don't know who I am anymore. I cling to the assurance that I have some friends who will remind me of my identity when I leave this job, but for the next 3 years I have to live with myself, and I really, really don't want to do that. I'm truly freaked out by what I do and say. The drinking has won the battle, and I drink quite a bit pretty much every single day. I start drinking the moment I get home from work. What is going to change things for me? Is the highest point of my career, the lowest point of my personal life? I truly believe it is. I don't have such deep depression weighing me down right now. There's always depression but right now I'm a vessel filled to the brim with apathy, sadness, anger.... What the hell made me like this? I want to drink until I drown and don't have to worry about anything anymore. I want to flush all responsibility down the toilet. I want to throw it all away. A yearning desire for being a drug addict is probably a weird desire. In the last year I've managed to get at least 15 people I know well to never want to talk to me again, with impressive haste. What is tearing me apart, making me spew evil all over the only people who still want to talk to me?

Perhaps I should take up tennis...

I'm a fucking tragedy spiraling down the rabbit hole. Unfortunately the good people who are my friends and family have to watch it, and there's nothing anyone can do for me :( My fear is hurting more of the people I love. I've already hurt my entire family..

I'm about an hour away from my new class starting, and true to form I stayed up all night last night drinking and playing video games. I've been excited about this day for a long time. A chance to see if I can maintain intellectual superiority over my peers. Yesterday Kyle and I had a good conversation. Basically, we've both been extremely successful, and I've been able to maintain a pretty good physical physique without truly trying. I've got to this point in my career, and he with his college career, but neither of us has actually put our heart into it yet. We've both kind of glided along going through the motions and we've always done. That has made me think all night. Where would I be, and what would I be if I gave my full day...my full focus towards something. What if I tried to be as healthy as I could be? What would come from that? When I think about it, I instantly think "Well, what would being in great shape give me"? I'm not really sure how to answer that, but I think it's time I find out. Right now marks the beginning of 1 full week of completely healthy choices. I've lived a healthy lifestyle for a couple of years now, but the past couple of weeks my diet has been horrid. No drinking, no junk food, no fast food. Today is an idea set in motion. Hopefully I can stay awake long enough to maintain my focus!

What I meant to say....

I've made a lot of mistakes in the past. I've done few things right. When I try to express myself I've had trouble maintaing a vision of myself, which leads me to embarrassment. Wenatchee is my home, and where I belong. ww. I put in 5 miles tonight, and was able to stop, look up, and see stars for the first time in a while. There aren't many stars visible on the east coast. I've always wondered who else is looking at the stars when I'm looking at them. When I was running I had freedom. I had had a purpose. I had a goal. It's when I sit and only have idle time that things start to deteriorate. I have a demon inside of me. I have something that wants me to die. Wants me to fail. From within this voice pressures me to do things wholesome boys shouldn't do. A presence inside guides my hand toward the destructive. "The dark passenger" they called it on Dexter. I've pondered what causes it, and why it happens to me. I've wasted far too much time being curious with the unexplainable. What I need to do to beat it is at the forefront of my thoughts. I've been alone, and will always be alone. I don't like myself. I've got a more than formidable opponent I'm going to need to fight. When I'm alone on the road moving through scenery I'm at peace. Running is my new addiction. Literature is my art. One day I'll have love and be complete. Randomness has been expressed and is out of me. Time to read Animal Farm.

I haven't been "In the mood" to write, or do anything for that matter for far too long. Following how I've felt has led to me to procrastination on things that matter. I've slacked on housework, and now I'm about to move and am experiencing "crunch time". Following how I've felt also led me back to drinking. I've had an extremely hard time staying sober, and alcohol is winning the battle. I've been keeping up on my running and exercise, keeping up on my reading, but am still wasting large chunks of time playing video games. I leave for State Department in 7 days and haven't packed a single thing. One of the credo's I try to live by is "The things you feel most apprehensive about, are usually the most rewarding for you". That helps me eliminate worry about the unknown, and in my line of work there is a tremendous amount of unknown, and little that is actually "known". If I was a ship at sea, I feel like a small sailboat getting tossed around by a nasty ocean storm. Fruitless worry, and hard habits are still large parts of my personality. Humans absorb the traits of their environment, and take on pieces of the personalities they hang out with. Unfortunately my environment is a repetitive trap of ignorant testosterone driven douchebags, or the couch and I sharing another lonesome night. 3 more years until I can get back to myself. Get back home. Get back to Wenatchee. Wenatchee will never be just a town for me.

art

What is art? A question that I've been pondering for a few days. Proposed to me by Jonny. A simple question that has taken hours of my attention. Art to me is language. Literature. Poetry. Words. The use of words can be abused by the ignorant, or can created mental imagery by the artistic. The book I'm reading is called "A Walk through the woods". Written by Bill Bryson, it's a simple 300 page story about his walk through the appalachain trail. For $8 and a dozen hours you can get a vivid recounting of the experiences he endured. Time binding in it's purest form. 300 pages of words can put the imagination of anyone, in any part of the World beside him on that trail. Simply beautiful how words can override the mind like that. Writing will be my artform. I've started to notice the beauty in slogans, signs, and the words my co-workers use to express themselves. I have a tremendous amount of respect for a carefully written sentence. I've always enjoyed classic writings, such as Thoreau, Emmerson, Paine, Smith and I'm starting to realize why. Their books, essays, and short stories have been revered for years because of the time they took to craft each sentence. Hemmingway is the only author I can think of who is more direct in his writing than Thomas Paine, but Paine has a beauty and flow to his writing that I haven't read in much of Hemmingway's writing. I have tremendous respect for these men. This week has been important. I've discovered my artform....

All I saw today was attractive young people together with their attractive significant others. Seeing so many people my age happy, and unconcerned brought me down. Seeing love made me realize I'm missing something. I am not missing having a girl friend. I am missing a way to control my sexual energy and use it for creative purposes. Sexual transmutation. I have been unable to control my energy, my desire and channel that energy into a creative outlet. I've stopped thinking about girls as the end-all solution to my bouts of negative emotion. I need to take the dependancy of having a woman love me and learn to be stable alone. In order to do that I need to figure out a way I can express myself in a beneficial way. I don't think women are evil, and I still maintain the position that I will find a wonderful woman at some point in the future. Depending on the affection of another to feel stable seems a bit silly to me. I must continue to learn to be self-sustainable. For the first time in a very long while I'm going to.....draw! Time to force creativity to start flowing.

Fresh, ripe canteloupe, and fat-free blueberry greek yogurt. It's the little simple things in life that help me find pockets of time where I feel the World is well, and I can relax. 3 weeks ago I was holding a lot of stress about fixing my condo, finding a renter, checking out of my command, and checking in to State Department. Now I'm in the middle of the process and I feel silly about giving time to those worries. 1 week into May and I'm already 50% of the way done. 5 weeks let and I've already found a renter for a 1 year contract, and I've found a safe place to call home in Arlington. I'm feeling a lot of pride, which isn't very common for me. Living the majority of my adult life alone has required me to try and continually impress, and entertain myself. The word of 2011 has been balance. Balance. For me, that means a balance between work, and fun. Personal life, and career. Between study, and relaxing. A successful, confident man has achieved balance in his life. This is what I must accomplish this year.

Cinco De Mayo doesn't mean anything when you're sober...

What determines mood? Quite an intriguing question that I've been thinking about for the better part of the day. External influences? Internal belief? Is it created of a layer in the subconcious, or is mood a concious decision based upon the assumed emotional reaction of sleep/health/external influences? Is mood a congnitive process, or is it automatically generated by a part of the brain we can reach with our inner-dialogue? For the first time in a long time I haven't had an inner dialogue, or any natural pull towards either end of the positive/negative spectrum. The day has been sort of phoned-in. I don't think I've paid attention to a single thing since I woke up.
I received 3 awards yesterday (an unusual amount of awards to receive in less than 1 year in the Navy). On the other hand, my 5 day old car had a dead battery this morning... More of a negative impact, for the first time for as long as I can remember the stock market, gold, silver, and the dollar are all down for 4 consecutive days. I just put $5,000 into an ETF named AGQ that measures the price of silver. I purchased the shares last Thursday, and since then the ETF has lost 50% (or $2,500). I'm not very happy about that. The bubble on silver has burst. And I am at the completely wrong end of the bubble. Now I have to wait for who knows how long... This one actually hurt since I thought silver was a relatively stable commodity. Guess not. My portfolio has gone from $13,000 to a little over $9,000 in 4 days... All against my theory that the jubilation brought about by Bin Laden's death would carry-over into wall street. I'm not panicing, since the market is cyclical, as is everything else in life. I'm just not happy about having my ego put in check, and realizing once again that I don't actually know anything. Time to go put in 5 miles on the track. Time to get excited!

3 May 2011

I've been encouraged to create a blog by several people. When I try and perceive myself from an outside vantage point I can understand how I appear austere, and troubled. I do have quite a history of moodiness, and swings from happy to sad. This must peak people's curiosity. Why do I do the things I do, and what am I thinking? Those are two questions I've been asked quite frequently by people in the military, and strangers I've met over the last 4 years. For those who haven't seen my emotional spectrum, and learned my mannerisms it must be hard at times to experience my behavior. Or not....haha. Played a double header of softball today. We were down by 2 runs in the second game and I was the last out. NOT being the best player on the field, and NOT winning fucking tear me up. I had the opportunity to change the outcome and I choked. That's not like me to fail at a challenge. Especially one as easy as slow-pitch softball. Talking with Jonny today helped me get back into a more positive mind-set, as talking with him usually tends to do. The time has come for me to wrap this post up. Tonight I get to read "Compensation: An Essay" by Ralph Waldo Emmerson. Napoleon Hill says it is a classic. I trust Mr. Hill's judgement.

This blog had no impact on me emotionally. Perhaps the next one...

Written on 10 Mar 2011 in Mosul, Iraq.

--10 Mar 11: Mosul Iraq--

I have no other template to write on, so I'm forced to write on this. One of the rare times I choose a computer over the paper. I have noone that will actually be able to hear what my thoughts are saying, so I must scribble them out to myself to reflect upon at a later date. I'm scared. Scared about many things. My main concern is that I'm losing my friends. I'm losing my ability to love. I no longer have joy in my life. Just daily motions that bring about anxiety, or release. Nothing beyond the constraints of medeocre. I used to be teaming with energy. Emotion. At times I felt like a volcano about to boil over with frustration, or desire. Now.....I honestly can't find a path in life. I feel like if I got all I ever wanted in life, it wouldn't cause a change to anything. We're all stuck in our paths and there is nothing that can change our direction. Will I ever be able to truly love again? The kind of love that consumes the heart, the soul, the mind? My soul is empty. My path is a curt circle. Alone I wander around and around expecting it will lead me out of this melloncholly alcove. There is no going forward. There is no going back. There is just the pitiful now. The human existence is a wasteful mistake. There is no creation. There is only death. Sad, sad death. The point of life is to die. The only truth is death. Sadness....and death. Everything else is a fearful distraction from the truth. The truth that every one of us will die solidly, and soon. I want to die right now. I've always had a problem with patience. 80 years of hollow existence is a heavy burden. When I'm looking at two roads the choice is hard. One....sweet permanent death. The other...uncertain bull shit that will consume and demand me to be what I don't want to be, do what I don't want to do. I only have 1 life and why can't I control it? Why? Freedom has been what I've been seeking my entire life. I will always be a slave to something my entire life. There is no point in reproduction, there is no point in continuance, there is no cocuun transformation waiting. Just death. I'm staring at death and I want it to come. Now is better than later. Now I can get it over with. The sooner I go the sooner I will be forgotten, and the sooner those who knew me can move on with the rest of their lives. They've all been fortunate enough to be blessed with ignorance, and love. Don't know why I was cursed with the truth, and isolation. While I'm still here my hunt for the answer will continue. I wish to fall into a deep coma, and never wake again. What will be able to distract me tomorrow? What illusion of purpose will hold my attention? I hope that one day I have the ability to drain the disease that floods my soul. Now I am tormented with sadness.......hollow....Left to follow.....Desire for alcohol and heroin still call to me at night before I'm able to sleep. Seems the peaceful and proper way to go. Overdose on bliss.....What other choice could a hollow empty life make? Gluttony could be what frees me. I'll never be able to show anyone this writing. I've been able to pretend I can feel up to this point. Quite remarkable. Where does this deep void come from? What is the difference between my life now, and the daily routine of a mental institution? Heavily medicated has an appeal.... For now I'll keep stretching my lower back, because it doesn't help get rid of any pain, and I'll keep writing to myself, because it doesn't do anything to make me feel better. My two releases aren't even for me....I wish to drown in alcohol. The proper way to die.

Fuck everything. This is all a waste of my time. I've been writing this same shit for over 10 years. I hope I choke on a piece of bread tomorrow. At least if I die now my friends/family will get paid. Boo frickin' hoo. More wasted days here we come.