All Decisions Are Final

So far the decision that I made a couple of days ago, hasn't been fully practiced. What can I say, I'm a sucker for procrastination, and the other things are just so much fun.

bleh.

Gotta keep on track.

Made From Real Gorilla Chest

"Some men hunt for sport, others hunt for food.

The only thing I'm hunting for, is an outfit that looks gooooood."

While I don't really have a style, I wouldn't say I'm lacking in style either. I guess I'm sort of the in between. Most of the clothes in my closet look good on me, they're the right size, right fit, and complimenting colors, however there are still the occasional times where I'm left wearing my uncomfortable clothes.

I'm a firm believer in how comfort can increase your attitude and confidence. I know for a fact when I'm dressed to the nines that I'm indestructable. My confidence comes from the fact that I'm not worried about about my appearance and that people are going to be judging me based upon my personality, and that's an easy enough softball to hit.

I recently picked up 2 new pairs of shoes that seem to be the clincher in dress of late. As I've been switching my styles the last couple of years, the shoes I wore no longer work with the clothes I'm currently wearing. But now the final piece of the puzzle seems to be in place, and it's looking complete. Granted, I still would like the ability to buy more clothes, I can still rock out what I have. :)

Short Drop and A Sudden Stop

Just felt like letting you all know how hung I am.


Hung-over that is.

Not really. My head isn't throbbing, but I've taken the delicate eco-system that is my stomach and tossed it through the blender. So I've been listening to the sweet sounds of gurgling all day long. It's fun, I think I'm going start an all-gurgle band. Although I'm not sure that'll work, hasn't been anything like that since N'SYNC.

Guess my tank doesn't hold as much as it used to.

Rebirth

So I've decided that I'm changing the title of my blog. I'm no longer Starting Anew as too much time has passed, it's been almost a year and a half, get the fuck over it.

Now it's my life, and while at this point in my life I didn't want to be A Work In Progress, I shall embrace the fact that there is so much left to do that I shouldn't be at the beginning anymore, I should be in the middle, if not wrapping up some parts.

Cheerier posts? Ha! Go fuck yourself if you expect that. But they should very, very well be coming from a different perspective, and on different topics, but I make no promise. I promise.

Hmmm

I got off the phone earlier today with someone I hadn't spoken too in a long time, a former employer of mine who I worked with during the grocery strike two years ago. We chatted and he asked if I still lived in the neighborhood and I informed of him that the last year has been a great deal of change for me, and he had also talked about his son who had died http://bentrb4.blogspot.com/2005/03/moment-of-silence.html

After that conversation I said to myself "wow, hard to think, last year this time I was married." Then it dawned on me...last year this time I wasn't married. Last year at this time I was doing the same thing I'm doing right now.

That's sad in so, so many ways.

The Giving Tree

To those that don't know it:

THE GIVING TREE by Shel Silverstein

Once there was a giving tree who loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come to play
Swinging from the branches, sleeping in the shade
Laughing all the summer’s hours away.
And so they love,
Oh, the tree was happy.
Oh, the tree was glad.

But soon the boy grew older and one day he came and said,
"Can you give me some money, tree, to buy something I’ve found?"
"I have no money," said the tree, "Just apples, twigs and leaves."
"But you can take my apples, boy, and sell them in the town."
And so he did and
Oh, the tree was happy.
Oh, the tree was glad.

But soon again the boy came back and he said to the tree,
"I’m now a man and I must have a house that’s all my home."
"I can’t give you a house" he said, "The forest is my house."
"But you may cut my branches off and build yourself a home"
And so he did.
Oh, the tree was happy.
Oh, the tree was glad.

And time went by and the boy came back with sadness in his eyes.
"My life has turned so cold," he says, "and I need sunny days."
"I’ve nothing but my trunk," he says,
"But you can cut it downAnd build yourself a boat and sail away."
And so he did and
Oh, the tree was happy.
Oh, the tree was glad.

And after years the boy came back, both of them were old.
"I really cannot help you if you ask for another gift."
"I’m nothing but an old stump now. I’m sorry but I’ve nothing more to give"
"I do not need very much now, just a quiet place to rest,"
The boy, he whispered, with a weary smile.
"Well", said the tree, "An old stump is still good for that."
"Come, boy", he said, "Sit down, sit down and rest a while."
And so he did and
Oh, the trees was happy.
Oh, the tree was glad.

I think one day I will strain my finger from clicking on the mouse when I hit the "refresh" button on my webmail.

Looooonely, I am so loooooooonely

Eurethra!

So I've made a decision. I'm not exactly happy about it, although it's not really something to be happy or unhappy about, it was just something that either needed to be done, or not done. By doing it -hopefully- I'll be able to go back to taking baby steps forward, instead of riding the slide backwards.

Hopefully.

One Size Too Small

I've known for a while that I throw fits, these mini little tantrums when I'm upset. Now before your jaws drop and laugh, no, they're not really hugely visible fits. It basically just involves me leaving the area in a polite hurry, usually to avoid whomever is causing the disagreement with me. I do this because I'm prone to caving. I'm Ghandi, if he was a pussy. I don't enjoy confrontation usually and do my best to avoid it.

Right now I'm throwing a fit. I'm so upset and frustrated that I just want to throw stuff to release the pent up energy inside of me. I can feel it building around my heart, like a vice squeezing the last few pumps out of it and it hurts me emotionally. Of course, no one who sees me knows any of this. Except for you my sweet virtual world.

Thank you Al Gore for inventing my friends.

One Eyed, One Horned Green People Eater

I am jealous man
Mostly more than I am less
But never am not

Thought you might like a haiku. Gesundheit

Will I Ever Learn?

I think there has to come a time when I realize what I need to. When I sit and rationalize it, it makes sense, I understand the choices that have been made, but then I look out there with my heart, and with the heart, sense doesn't always make sense.

So I repeat the same mistakes that I've always made. I lead with my heart instead of my head, and once my heart gets hurt, I don't always listen to my head and what's it saying. I never take the advice that helps me mend and heal, instead I rush my heart off on another adventure, never heeding advice from the past bruises and breaks, forever forward, onward and upward...up, up, and away.

"The truth is I gave my heart away a long time ago, my whole heart, and I never really got it back."

Weird that I'd ever quote Sweet Home Alabama, but in terms of a romantic triangle, the movie was pretty dead on. It's weird to love other people so much that it feels you can't even love yourself. You look out upon the world and everything affects you, the old people, the young people, the young lovers, the tired, the poor, the huddles masses yearning to be free, all of those bring tears to your eyes. Yet when you look at yourself and your own life, you feel nothing but shame and contempt for the mess you've put yourself in again. Damnit.

I guess I have no other way to end this yet to quote Sweet Home Alabama again..."You can't ride two horses with one ass, sugarbean." Well said Earl Smooter, well said.

If Sticks and Stones Will Break My Bones...

drop a piano on me.

I've always taken physical abuse a lot better then emotional abuse, I'm not sure why. Maybe I'm just sensitive, maybe I'm a pussy. Whatever the reason I'm always taking words a lot harder then they're meant.

It's not that they're meant in a mean way, but because of the way I am and the situation they're said in, it hurts. I don't know, lately it seems like...

Just One Time

I want a day where I don't cry. I think I've earned it, haven't I? While I don't quite fret over the small stuff anymore -which is an improvement-, sometimes things get to me. I came back to an amusing e-mail that was meant to cheer me up, instead however, it brought me down.

It's funny, they say it's tough to get over your first love, and the person you lost your virginity to, and of course, to your first wife. Does it mean I'm emotionally fucked because it was all the same woman?

Nightime Sniffling Sneezing Runny Nose Sore Throat Cough So You Can Rest Medicine

It's funny how I seem to remember that I'm alive only when I have a cold. It's like my body is in a numb stage for most of the year, then when I get some sniffles or those god-awful body aches I remember that I'm a living breathing organism.

As I sit here now, I can feel each finger contact with the keys (and yes, I type with fingers, no hunting and pecking here) and I love it. All my senses are hightened as my body fights off it's foreign invaders. However, I haven't recieved a battlefield update in a while, so I'm not exactly sure of who's winning.

Opening Up Before You've Healed

There's no point in picking at a scab. It doesn't make anything better, it just makes it last longer and could possibly leave a scar. So why do we do it?

I've done this with the biggest wound I have. I picked at it, I couldn't just let it sit and heal, I constantly played with it, pulling, picking, prodding, scratching, scraping, anything I could do to keep it fresh. I'm not sure why I did that, maybe I just didn't want to let it heal, whatever reason, it only made things worse. If I had let it heal I would've been able to sit back and take a look at it, reflect upon how I got it, and what I learned from it. Coulda, shoulda, woulda. But I kept picking at it, I kept keeping the memories alive. I always thought that I had a chance, that there was some hope for a second chance. I mean, everyone else gets a second chance, why am I the only one who doesn't? There's so much I would do differently, so much I would enjoy and cherish this time around. Instead, since I couldn't let it heal, I'm left suffering with it, constantly going through the same pain that's been there this whole time. All because I couldn't didn't want to let go.

Now I've done it again, picking at the same kind of wound, however this one much fresher. I know I should just let it heal but once again I won't. Instead I'll deal with 2 wounds, incredibly similar, but completely different. I'll try to let them heal so that maybe I too can heal, but I know I'll pick, I'll always pick. It's tough to let things heal when you can still hold them in your arms, or when you have so few memories without them. So I pick and re-live, instead of healing and living. But I'm trying. I'm trying.

God Damned Mother Fuckers!!

It's funny, while I say I write for myself as therapy and just to keep up with writing... I don't. Seriously, you all knew that. If I didn't want people to read it, I wouldn't post it on the fucking interweb. I love writing as a form of intertainment, something that causes stimulation in someone else's mind. So naturally I LOVE getting comments on my blogs. That was, until someone out there figure out how to spam comments on blogs. Lovely. Way to fucking put a dent in web society.

While still a crude way of bring information to the masses, blogs were picking up steam. Celebrities were starting to have some, authors, senators (and their mistresses), and many, many other interesting people were starting to get with the infad of now. So of course, the penis enlarging, click here for millions, buy your fucking drugs for cheap world of spam has now invaded and defiled our lovely little society. Pretty soon comments will be turned off to avoid the countless spams that will be appearing with each new post, and pretty soon the posts will be less geared towards the reading audience. Why? Because of lack of feedback, lack of the interaction between writer and audience, because of spam.

god damned mother fuckers.

I'm not as funny as I thought I was, I'm funnier.
I'm not as hot as I thought I was, I'm hotter.
I'm not as smart as I thought I was, I'm smarter.
I'm not as strong as I thought I was.

Some where, out there

Questions always seem to run through my mind, it's been that way since I was little. Of course, most of these questions were never verbalized because I felt that no one would see things the way I saw them.

This used to happen a lot at theme parks with the family, there's thousands upon thousands of people from all over the world there, but I would always wonder "I wonder if there is anyone here that I know". I mean the odds are usually against it, but it's happened. So whenever I was out, I would always keep one watchful eye out for someone I recognized. A couple of times we would run into people we knew, and it would always make me feel good.

Of course, today I'm experiencing the opposite quite often. I'm at a place, and I KNOW someone else is there, somewhere. Someone I really miss. However, instead of keeping a watchful eye out for them, I'm trying to keep out of eye contact. Weird how time changes things.

Tranquilery

For me it seems, the faster I move, the more things around me slow down. Like the reverse of a cliche music video where the artist is moving normally and everything around them speeds around so much it's a blip.

Here I am, moving around like the speed of light while everything else seems perfectly still, my thoughts, my emotions just waiting there for me to take a break and say hello. When I reach out for them, I'm able to slow down for just a split second before being wisked back away.

I'm torn, I like being busy, my brain feels satisfied, which is a good thing, as it's usually not and can get me into trouble when it isn't. Unfortunately my emotions are sitting there, stewing, not being stirred, not being privilidged to the new information that is coming to my moving self. At times I feel I'm slipping, not sure where to, just losing my footing below me. Which, emotionally, is scary. I've worked so hard on putting everything together to have everything fall apart in some of my busiest times. I really don't want to return to that place.

Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish.

My brother forwarded me this article, it was featured in Fortune Magazine and was a commencement speech given by Apple founder Steve Jobs. I've always been a fan of Apple and all they do to constantly re-invent and push the limits, combining power and fashion. However, this article made me an even bigger fan of Mr. Jobs.

http://news-service.stanford.edu/news/2005/june15/jobs-061505.html

Enjoy.

Time To Leave

A couple of days ago an armed uniformed United States officer was walking patrol, ever alert, but not in fear. Shots rang out and the officer fell, dead.

That got me thinking, normally I'm not too vocal about those who die protecting our country, it's a risk they signed up for. Forever protectors, eternal soldiers. A rare breed of person who's willing to sacrifice his life -should the need be- for our lives. I respect that greatly.

However....

Now a mother has just lost a son, a daughter her father, and a wife her husband. It gets to you sometimes. Why are we in a place where people are living like animals amoung refuse. Gunfights, animalistic behavior, and just tossing trash and feces beside you like it's no problem. Isn't it time for us to leave such a place? Shouldn't our voices reach out to the President and congress saying why should we protect such a lawless enviornment? If there are people that don't want the law we are imposing shouldn't we just let them be?

Of course not, after all, I'm talking about New Orleans...what were you thinking?

Redemption In Man

Few things could've redeemed my view about today's society, then I came across this article, and everything is so ok it's not even funny.

http://www.kfmb.com/stories/story.22046.html

I'm sure many, many people affected by the hurricane who have lost loved ones, property, and basically, everything they own will now find solace and comfort, and feel the ray of sunshine and love being tossed down from high atop Malibu by a pregnant has-been.