Lucien Maverick’s Ikigai

I was just opened up to an idea that comes from Japan.  It’s called Ikigai, and the concept can most broadly be defined as “a reason for being.”  It has a very charming ven diagram that takes a look at the four categories.  See, the idea is that instead of just seeking happiness (which is something that due to my head injury I don’t feel anyway), we should be seeking a life that has purpose.  I like the concept.  This diagram allows you to really take a look at this issue and decide for yourself where you want to focus, letting you know what the perks, but also drawbacks are.  I want to tackle each thing one by one and see if we can find my ikigai.  This shouldn’t be too hard.  But first, a visual aid.  Let’s take a look at this.

Got the gist of it?  Let’s break this down, bit by bit.

What do you love?

This is pretty easy.  I love to write.  It’s something I’m damn good at.  This website is living testament to my writing prowess.  I’ve had it up for nine years.  That’s right, nine years of this.  Ever since I started this site with the news story I did interviewing people at the anti-Glenn Beck/Sarah Palin rally when the two were up here in my home state.  It was so raw, but it was the beginning of my work here.  Writing is what I have loved for so long, but it isn’t the only thing.

I love to cook too.  Just like writing, damn good at it.  I have years of experience doing it.  It’s weird that every task I have ever set my mind to and enjoyed doing, I’m good at.  Like really, really good.  I love to cook so much, and more than that, I love an audience for it.  When I can get people in my life who like to eat what I have to make it fills me with a great sense of accomplishment.  Because I can eat my creations and marvel at the flavors all day, but it’s something else when someone who is dear to me can too.  Alas, the way things are now is just a reminder to me of how my people are long ago and far away now.  It sucks.

So that part was pretty easy.  On to the next one.

What are you good at?

This part is also pretty easy.  Aside from the points I mentioned, I also have a lot of other tasks.  In addition to being good at everything I set my mind to, I learn things fast.  Really, really fast.  It’s kind of freakish how I can pick things up by getting into the nit and grit of them and do it.  There has yet to be something that does not fall into that category.

I also have a gift at making connections with people.  Everywhere I go, without a single exception, I become the talk of the area.  I my most recent job, I built up a reputation in two respects.  First, I was the best.  It goes without contest that in the customer service section of my employer, I was the best at what I did.  At least when I left there to go into the document processing section.  Best day ever.  But I did that task with such skill and became known as the guy that everyone could come to do things.  My head supervisor at the time saw me as something of an attitude problem, but to those I worked with directly, I was seen as sharp, witty, and a consummate professional on the phone.  I have a habit of getting under the skin of those who like to follow rules for the sake of them being rules, while making a ton of friends with those I work with for my desire to help them when they have problems, being the best at what I do, and having NO qualms about cutting corners wherever possible.  I’m an American, after all.  It’s what we do best.

These skills are a double-edged sword.  On the one hand, for bosses who see me as a person who also like to bend rules wherever they see them as detrimental, I am something of a hero.  For those who don’t like that, I am something of an attitude problem.  But make no mistake, the moment I enter into a new environment I find the fastest way to learn everything I need, and then become perfect at it.  Could give the samurai a run for their money.  Anyone who knows about the mentality of perfecting your art in their culture, you’ll know what I mean.

What does the world need from you?

Now that is a very, very good question.  I honestly don’t think anything.  My talents are asked for by no one and nobody really would care if I disappeared tomorrow.  It would be an inconvenience for those I work with, but not too much of one.  I am expendable because I’m still low on the totem pole.  I genuinely can’t think of anything that the world needs from me.

I’ve always hoped that my loyalty to my people and to my sense of personal ethics would carry some weight.  But that never stopped the countless people who have up and ditched me over the course of my life.  So then what about me as a human being does this world feel that I would provide a benefit for.  I genuinely couldn’t say.  Let me know if you have any ideas.

What can you get paid for?

Now there is the rub.  I can get paid for all sorts of things.  My traits mean that I am something of a jack of all trades.  It may be that the thing holding me back the most is my lack of stability.  I haven’t set down roots anywhere.  I want to.  The big idea is to get out of this icebox and down south to finally have a community I can live in without having to worry about leaving for the next five to ten years.

My writing skills are almost certainly never going to make me any real money.  I’m working on a novel right now, but I know that the chances of me hitting it big are astronomically small.  So that’s out.  Cooking?  I don’t want something that is a passion to become something I do to get paid.  Then it stops being fun and becomes work.  With what I listed above, the things I can get paid for are plentiful.  The things I can get paid a lot of money for or at least enough to live comfortably on, that’s another story.

So where does all this leave me?  The Ven diagram I shared above has it that I am somewhere between Vocation, Mission, and Profession.  It’s not a place I want to be, but the simple reality is that my Mission is clear – get south.  I want to get to the ocean.  To live on it.  That’s the last stop on my life’s journey.  I don’t actually think I’ll ever get there, but assuming I do, I have some decisions to make about where my life goes after that, if anywhere at all.  I wouldn’t mind adding some passion into my life, but that’s not going to happen.  At least not now.  Now in a job market as shitty as the one in my state now that the recession has FINALLY caught up with us.  A full ten years later.

I don’t know what the future holds, but this exercise has been interesting.  Let me know where you fall into things.  I actually do enjoy the discourse with my audience.

Until next time, a quote,

“Long ago and far away, I dreamed a dream one day.  And now, that dream is here beside me.  Long the skies were overcast, but now the clouds have passed.  You’re here, at last.” – Lyric, Long Ago and Far Away

Peace out,



Living with Depression

Today I had a very unpleasant interaction with a family member who decided that they are going to add their name to the list of people who have decided to tell me that my depression is a choice and if I just believe hard enough and think happy thoughts, it will go away.  I call these people idiots.  These are people, typically of an older generation, who have this weird idea about the nature of mental illness, and I now suddenly feel very bad for their child who is currently dealing with the affliction and wondering if they are telling him the same thing.  That is most unfortunate.  Hopefully he can surround himself with better people when dealing with this.

It’s no surprise to me that the family member in question is very, very religious.  The idea that if you just believe hard enough and think happy thoughts and your ailment will magically go away is an article of faith.  A horrible, horrible article of faith by people who either have never had to deal with this, or who have been indoctrinated by a society that really treats those with mental illness so badly.  Most recently saying that only mentally ill people do school shootings or other violent attacks.  Timothy McVeigh was many things, a lot of them bad, but if you watch the interviews with him after the Oklahoma City Bombing, he shows that he had a very clear rationale for what he did.  He believes the government was evil for what they did in Waco, Texas, and he was fighting back against that injustice.  There are plenty of people who have rationalized evil actions with a clear motivation.  Say how wrong it is, and you are right, but it shows that they thought it out and weren’t just some crack-addicted hobo.

Depression is an illness that is so misunderstood in society.  It kills me inside how so many people are so horribly stigmatized by it and treated so badly by their peers because of it.  I live with this every day, and I will be getting into it.  My goal here is to help those who are either suffering, or those who know those afflicted and are either unclear about what this feels like or are among the ill-informed people like the aforementioned family member.

I’ve had depression ever since I smashed my head open when I was 14.  My head met a rock going down a hill on my bike.  The person who found me was very reticent to call the cops, and I think that they might have hit me with their truck, but that’s a conspiracy theory that will never be solved.  I don’t even know where the bike I was one is anymore.  My depression is caused by brain damage.  I’ve had my neurosurgeon and a neuropsychologist do the due diligence and test to see if this is the case, and that’s where all evidence points to.  Because of that, this affliction is something I am going to have to deal with for the rest of my life.

Not all depression is like this, but that’s just my case.  For those who want to go into detail about all the various causes, there are plenty of quality resources to look into that I would recommend looking into.  Here’s a link to one, but there are lots of others and I suggest doing your research.

How can I describe what it’s like to live with depression?  Imagine, for a moment, that your brain is turned against you.  It is actively fighting back against every happy moment or good thought you have ever had.  That’s what it has been like for me.  The family member I spoke of said that I can choose to be happy, and that just pissed me off so much.  They do not understand what it’s like to be having a perfectly fine day and then to just have your brain do the thing where it makes you feel like shit and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.  It can come out of nowhere.  Or I’m having a very good day and then something comes out of nowhere that throws a wrench in it.  Even if it’s something small, there the tumbling down the rabbit hole goes.  Alice in Miserable Wonderland.

I don’t remember what it’s like to feel legitimately good.  Many months back, when I tried edibles for the first time, and it was really high in CBD, feeling the elation and actual happiness in my brain again, it was so joyful.  I cried.  It felt so good, that when the feeling disappeared back into this awful nightmare that is my day-to-day, it hurt me inside.  Alas, I’m too fucking financially conscious to go crazy and load up on the stuff.  That’s the thing about living in poverty.  It’s the same reason that I don’t actively go see a therapist or get on a drug regiment.  I already have to take meds for a condition I have.  Adding more to the mix is money I don’t have.  Not to mention time off work.  I wish there were shrinks around who were open when I get off.  But those visits are also money I don’t have.

When I have someone tell me that I am choosing to be sad, I want to beat them upside their stupid fucking head.  They have no idea how crushing this feeling is.  What it’s like to live with it.  But the aforementioned family member isn’t alone.  I cannot tell you how many friendships I have lost because of this.  I can’t.  How many people who I used to be so close to that now keep me at such a distance because of it.  I suppose I could lie a lot.  Be really peppy and happy and fake being well-adjusted.  I know that most of them would just turn a blind to the problem and enjoy that because as a species we would rather have happy things around than not happy ones.  It’s easier to lie to yourself about a problem than have to deal with it.  Speaking from experience.

My relationships across the board have suffered.  Friendships that dried up when they couldn’t take the negativity anymore.  No matter how loyal I was, that loyalty was NOT returned in kind.  Now matter how much I would go out of my way to help anyone who asked and is a friend, they would treat me like it’s too much to have the way I am around.  Then there are the romantic or sexual connections.  The people in my life who found that even though I was very happy to be around them and be in their lives, my depression snuck in and made my bad days very bad for them.  Once-again, I suppose I could have lied to them, hid it deep under everything and told no one.  Would make me a very popular guy.  But if I didn’t have the release valve, I probably would have killed myself when I was 17.

Which is another thing – thoughts of suicide.  Suicidal ideation is always in the back of my mind.  No matter how good a day it is, there’s always that little thought deep in the recesses of my brain that says that life isn’t worth living anymore and I should end it.  I’ve been fighting this for so long that I sometimes think about that line from Garrus in Mass Effect 3

But how long before the fight’s kicked out of us?

It’s such a struggle.  If I had a social network that was more eager to help, maybe that would make it easier.  Alas, I am born into a generation that will do anything and everything to avoid sad or negative things.  Everyone wants butterflies and rainbows, and the second that they don’t have that, they get very, very angry.

Maybe I should post on depression forums or something.  Find like-minded people.  I think that’s part of the problem.  People who don’t have to deal with this ailment just do NOT understand what it’s like to live with it.  They all just think that you’re not trying hard enough or that if you wanted to be better, you would be.  That societal misconception led to one of my favorite memes that I’ve come across.

People who don’t have this ailment don’t realize what it’s like.  To have your brain constantly fighting against you.  To be your worst enemy.  To hate yourself and think that everyone hates you at ALL TIMES.  To be trapped in your own head creating your own reality that has everyone not caring if you live or die.  No joke, I have that thought a lot.  Thinking that if I died tomorrow, virtually no one would miss me.  On a conscious level, I know that isn’t true.  I have truly amazing parents who have done more for me than they have any reason to, and I wish that I wasn’t drowning in poverty because of a job that I am woefully underpaid for so I could keep my word on paying them back.  As it stands, I doubt I will ever have a life that is financially stable enough to do so.

I know that I have extended family that while I am not close with almost any of them, they would be saddened by my passing.  I know that I have a few very close friends who would be devastated.  There are a couple of people that I have loved or been very close to that even though one of them hates me now for reasons that have something to do with depression, infidelity (not on my part), and the cost of being the rock upon which I stand.  I am sorry she hates me, but I understand the reason.  Even though she hates me, I know that she would still feel sad.  But this disease makes all that go away and those thoughts creep in like a cancer.

Depression sucks the life out of you.  It takes the things you enjoy doing and tells you that they aren’t fun anymore.  It has you desperately wanting to feel good and not being able to.  It’s an iron ball around your ankle dragging you down into an ocean of despair and you have fucking idiots telling you that you can just believe and choose to feel better and that will fix it.  I seriously wanted to scream at this person.  I wanted to tell them that I think they’re stupid and how I wish that I could subject them to how this feels for a week so they could understand what an absolute nightmare this is.

It doesn’t help that my crushing financial poverty has me not being able to actually seek help that I truly do want.  I don’t have the money, or the leave time, or the assistance.  I don’t have any of that, and I wish that I did.  I don’t have a social network that is supportive because I am part of the millennial generation that wants sunshine blown up its ass.  Worst of all, I’m having to fight back the urge to die even though I genuinely don’t feel like I am living for anything.  That is EVERY. SINGLE. Day.

What bugs me the most is that there are people like this family member who have this baffling idea that I want to feel like this.  That I am choosing to be this way and that I somehow want it.  I would give my last 40 years to have this go away.  I’d grab a hacksaw and go all Dr. Gordon on it with my foot if I could make the brain damage go away.  There is no price that I would not pay if it would mean making this horrible affliction leave me alone.  But that’s not how this works.  Not that anyone else would know that.

For those who suffer from this ailment, know that I’m here.  Go onto any of my social media or even leave a comment on here and I’ll talk with you.  Granted, that is opening the floodgates to be fucked with my trolls.  The Internet world we live in. Hopefully this can help some of you know that there are those out there who know what it feels like.  And for those who are stupid enough to actually buy the logic that if you choose to you can be happy, you are woefully ignorant and I am saddened that there are people who may look to you for guidance and you give them that bullshit.

Until next time, a quote,

“Because humans are complicated beasts. You believe comforting lies while knowing full-well the painful truth that make those lies necessary. In the end, Connor, it is not important what you think. It is important what you do.” – The Monster, A Monster Calls

Peace out,


2017 Year in Review

I don’t honestly know what to say about this year.  It’s been probably the most unremarkable year I’ve ever had.  At least for a long time.  Nothing really major happened.  I was kind of just treading water until this next year came up.  Since I’ve taken on the tradition of doing these posts after college, I figure I have to find something interesting to take on with it.  And I think I may have my angle.  But it is going to bore a lot of you to tears.  Why?  Because I am going to be talking about a very adult problem that all people who work in a professional environment have to deal with, and the lessons that I learned from that experience.  As I think about it now, more is coming to me, so let’s get down to it.  Let’s talk about this year.

Right out of the gate I started this year on a very dour note.  Coming back from Christmas, I had a bitter taste in my mouth.  Why?  Because I was stuck having been the source of a family hero worship session on Christmas Eve following me doing something nice for my aunt.  Things kept getting different, because the aunt friended me on Facebook, and as anyone can tell you, who I am online and who I am in person are two very different people.  Only one person has seen the part of me that virtually no one else sees.  It is someone whose relationship I respect and I nearly lost.

Let me set the scene for you.  A few months later, my dear friend and I are out drinking.  It was a rough day and she said that we should go out drinking.  Of course, for me it was just a single drink and some food, while she was downing Long Island ice teas like it was no one’s business.  She got white girl wasted.  What followed was an experience that was over two hours long and I can’t get into specifics about.  See, I made a promise that I would never talk about it again, and I am a man of my word.  Let no one say otherwise.  I’m bringing it up just to set the stage for you.  Suffice it to say, some things happened, some of which I ended up telling her and some things I am keeping all to myself because what people don’t know can’t hurt them.  Especially now that she is married.

Anyway, something to know about me is that I have a bad habit of just running my mouth in casual situations without thinking too much.  The whole night between my friend and I was something of a sour spot, and I said just the wrong thing at just the wrong time.  What’s more, since I can’t help but exacerbate a problem, I decided to try and confront the issue.  What a terrible, terrible move.  She lost it on me and things between us died pretty hard for a while.  Then one afternoon I get a call when I’m at home and she lays out what she thinks our future is as friends.  I nearly watched my friendship with her die because I couldn’t think before I speak in this instance.  It took me damn-near begging for another shot.  There were stipulations.  Ones that I have tried my best to keep to, though I do still catch myself slipping every now and again on some of them.  However, when it comes to the biggest stipulation – that we would NEVER speak of that night again, I have kept to that one religiously.  I’m never going to speak of it again.

Time passes, our friendship is saved and things are okay.  Then she joins the Navy officially and is heading off to boot camp and then A school, followed by C school.  I kept diligent track of things.  While she was gone, I wrote her letters.  As soon as I had her address at basic, I wrote her every week.  When she got to A school, and we were talking again on video chat or via text, I still wrote letters.  It was somewhat soothing.  But when she left, it was the loneliest I have ever been.  Ever.  There hasn’t been a period of time that I felt more cut off than I did when she was gone.

One thing that happened around the same time as my friend and I’s relationship falling apart was that I decided to reach out to a vast plethora of people and write messages to them apologizing for wrong-doings.  It was kind of part of a grander design I have for things in my life and my final act.  But it felt like the right thing to do.  Virtually no one replied.  That’s totally fine.  I get it completely.  Pretty much everyone I wrote to hates me in one way or another.  Still, was at least hoping I’d get a few more responses.  Not to fix things, but at least to bury the hatchet.  I don’t know.

There was one person I reached out to that I think made things worse.  It was someone who I had told something to after a truth about me got out that I figured would get back to her eventually, and I wanted her to hear it directly from me instead of from other people.  But I lied to her about it.  Said it was one thing and it was something else.  I decided that I had to come completely clean.  Figure I made things worse.  There is so much distance between us.  Even now.  Maybe if I had told her everything when I was much younger.  I don’t know.  Wish I did.

However, there was a plot twist.  See, another friend of mine wanted to come up to my state again and asked if she could stay with me.  As luck would have it, at my new apartment (I moved this year.  The new places is 1000X nicer than my last shit-hole apartment) there is a guest bedroom and it just so happens to have a bed in it.  I bought covers and everything for if anyone ever needs it.  I get the feeling she is the one and only person who will ever use it.  As in ever.  A couple of people I can dream of using it, but that’s all it is – a dream.

The first couple weeks that we spent together were legit awesome.  I had so much fun with her.  It was just like old times, and since I am a pretty easy person to live with, we had no problems there.  Hell, I made dinner for us and it was pretty nice.  We went on adventures and I felt like things were so fun.  Made for a pretty nice summer.  Since my Navy girly-mate was gone, this was a good distraction.  As is want to happen, something went wrong.

See, when the girly-mate who was staying with me left, she had been in a relationship that was very long and it hadn’t ended well.  Coming back up here, she found things with that person picking up.  So she ended up staying over at his place a lot.  More and more as time went on.  What’s more, the two of us would make plans, only for them to get totally crushed because she was over at her ex’s, pining for him.  It made me more than a little pissed.  But after a while, I was done with the roommate situation we had going.  It had gone on for months, and since she was never here anyway, I was ready for her to be out.

Eventually she did go back home to the states, and here I am feeling very lonely again.  I was lonely before she left, really.  Because we didn’t have time together.  We had time we were in the same house, and time she was with her ex, and that time was virtually all one-sided against me.  I had no desire for us to be a thing, but I was hoping for us to at least be roomies who could hang out.  There were a few things I was looking forward to, but nope.  It all just died.  I didn’t even get to see her off.  It sucked.

More time alone into the fall, until my Navy girly-mate got back in touch when she got into A school.  Listening to her talk about all the amazing things she was learning to do in school made me more than a little jealous.  I felt like my life was nothing but a giant waste.  Here I am doing absolutely nothing of any real value, while she is learning skills that are beyond impressive.  For those who may ask, I wish I could have gone down the career path she had.  But after my head injury, any of that was out.  Believe it or not but before I busted my skull open, I had thought about it.  Oh well.  One can dream.

Here’s where I get to the adult thing I learned about a professional environment.  See, there was a shakeup of management and the best thing to happen to my department happened – Brent.  He is the single greatest manager I ever had.  He gave feedback and was a genuinely good leader.  He encouraged silly behavior, but still had high standards.  He gave us tools to help unwind.  This man became the best thing to happen to me at work.  I was genuinely feeling good for his time there.  It’s where I learned about office politics in a way I hadn’t before.  I wrapped this guy around my finger so hard.  Got an amazing letter of recommendation out of him.

There was one thing I had said to my girly-mate before she left for school – that if I was still in that office by the time she got home, something had gone horribly wrong.  I don’t honestly know how many interviews I had up til now.  So very many.  Something went horribly wrong.  All that work, and I am still there.  Still getting yelled at on the fucking phone all day by deadbeat parents who can’t deal with their burden.  I hate it.  Makes my Navy girly-mate telling me about all the amazing things she is a part of hurt that much more.  My life is such an abject waste.

Navy friend returns, and it was like she never left in a lot of ways.  But she came back a different person.  I’d like to think I did a little growing up myself, but I know that that isn’t the case.  Since interviewing to get out of the dungeon I am trapped in hasn’t worked, I decided to try and be more clever about it and try and escape by transferring to a different department.  That might have worked, except my luck still is so profoundly bad.

Which brings me to now.  All this time later, and I’m really nowhere.  I’m exactly where I started out at this time last year.  Nothing has really changed, and I feel so disappointed in that.  My life sucks, and there’s no escape.  Everyone is doing cooler things than me.  I feel like a waste of skin that no one would miss if I died tomorrow.  Anyway, off to bed I go, to greet the new year fast asleep.  Whatever.  I don’t get invited to New Year’s parties.  Never have, never will.  That would imply people wants to invite me.  That just isn’t true.

Until next time, a quote,

“Being by myself.  I’m afraid I’ll end up alone.” – Ellie, The Last of Us

Peace out,


The High Price of Failure

A dear friend of mine recently graduated from basic with the US Navy.  I was proud to see her in dress whites.  Girl’s outfit was crisp, pressed, and the shoes were so shined that you could light a room with them if you had a window available for light refraction.  Now she is off to another base to study.  She’s going into Naval Intelligence.  Listening to her describe training, the dedication and the effort she put in, it’s humbling.  I hate to say it, but more than anything, the biggest emotion I feel about all of this is jealousy.

I haven’t accomplished anything with my life.  Not really.  I got a BA that isn’t even worth the 120 credits it took to get it.  Unless you have a Master’s, nobody even cares.  It just goes on a resume and that’s it.  My resume is absolute shit.  I work for the state I live in, and I am desperately trying to get ahead in my employment.  But it’s a waste of time.  I know what’s holding me back – my shit resume.  I have one job that I’ve held on to for more than a year.  One.  The rest aren’t even past six months.  It makes me look flaky.  It makes me look undependable.  Had a ton of interviews, but I haven’t even had any that have hit up my references.  That is bad.  I work at a fucking call center.  My life is helping people that I want to murder with a hammer out with their fucking problems.  It’s awful.  And at every fucking interview I have to say that it has been a learning experience or an exciting challenge or some other piece of bullshit PR nonsense.  I can’t say that this job is sucking the life out of me.  I can’t say that I am secretly wishing that I had some kind of addiction or other problem, so then at least I could say my life is unique in some way.

But it doesn’t end there.  In fact, that’s just the tip of the iceberg that is my entirely worthless life.  I am a miserable, depressing person who has depression so severe that I don’t remember what feeling joy is like.  It makes NOBODY want to talk to me.  I got one friend who talks to me on the regular.  Well, two, now that my girly-mate is out of basic and at A-School with the Navy.  So, because I am depressing as fuck, my friend life is basically gone.  With fewer and fewer people who can even stomach talking to me, I feel more and more alone in this town.  After all, Eeyore only works as a character in fiction.  Everyone in the 100 Acre Wood wants to be his friend.  Because even though he isn’t always the most cheerful, he still gets in on the fun with everyone else.  Yeah, it works in fiction.  And nowhere else.

Then there is my absolute train-wreck known simply as my love life.  That’s so pathetic that I recently decided to hit up a girl I used to work with at the Library who I had never really liked, but had always found to be appealing on a sexual level.  Because hey, why the fuck not?!  Yeah, I know I’ll never even get a response from that stellar waste of time.  That didn’t at all make me look pathetic.  Nope, not even a little.  Had a friend who said it’s good that I took the initiative.  Not for one second do I buy that.  Haven’t had a relationship in three years.  Haven’t had sex in three years.  Statistically speaking, the longer a person is single, the higher the chance that they will remain that way.  There is no hope for me.

So when my friend, the Seaman Apprentice, tells me about her life down there and all the work she has put in, I am both humbled and unimaginably jealous.  Her life is going places!  She’s married!  She’s got a whole life waiting for her when she gets home!  What do I have?  I got out of college literally on the skin of my teeth.  I got D’s my last semester.  Straight D’s.  But D’s get degrees now.  Gotta love America’s pathetic education system.  I was so burned out that I didn’t even get my degree printed on paper to let my parents hang on their wall.  You gotta pay for that shit now, and I am NOT giving that fucking worthless institution one more fucking dime!  Fuck them!  Fuck all of them!

Where does that leave me?  No-goddamn-where, that’s where.  I am chubby, pathetic failure who currently has a nasty cold in the middle of summer that is fucking pissing me off.  I took today off work, when I don’t even have the time to take off.  You know what my leave time is?!  Not that!  But if I had gone in today I would have felt like shit and been cracking on the phone.  That’s life.  I get to go to a job that I hate in order to help fucking imbeciles get their fucking child support.  That’s right, I work for child support.  The most hated entity in the fucking state, after the cops.

I feel so fucking pathetic.  I have accomplished nothing.  I will continue to accomplish nothing.  I am trying to finish a novel, but I have so many unfinished novels that I know will go absolutely nowhere.  All I have to even be remembered for once I am gone is this website, and after a while that would disappear too.  If I vanished tomorrow, how many fucking people would even notice I’m gone?!  Not many.  All the people who have left me behind.

And it’s too fucking late.  I can’t fix any of the friendships that are gone.  My resume ain’t getting any better.  My love/sex life has a plot at the local cemetery.  The price of failure.  All I am is a failed boyfriend.  A failed fiance.  A failed best friend.  A failed medical records technician.  A failed student.  All I have is failure.  I wish I knew what to do.  I keep trying.  I bust my ass at that worthless fucking job and I have no friends.  Only friends I have had there have left.  I would give anything to have one chance to go back in time and change things.  I’d give anything.  Just once.  But life doesn’t work that way.

Well, that’s enough wallowing in self-pity.  Think I’ll finish this here and cry like a little bitch because I can’t even do the normal thing and suck down a bottle of Jack Daniels to drown away my pain.  I don’t even have the will power for a fucking addiction.

Until next time, a quote,

Maybe I’m too young to know what the world is supposed to be. But it’s not supposed to be this. Can’t be this.” – Huey Freeman

Peace out,


The Merits of Years of Cooking

I haven’t posted very much lately.  There isn’t much that I have wanted to talk about.  Politics has sucked the life out of everyone.  Social justice just isn’t that interesting anymore.  What more can be said?  Hell, now it is turning on itself.  I like to do reviews.  So close to the release of Horizon: Zero Dawn.  Though, I get the feeling that that review will come out a long time later, because I am going to play as much of that game as I can before I put out my review.  I want you all to know if it’s good or not.  All the reviews i am seeing thus far are giving me lots of hope.  However, something recently came to my attention today.  Something that worked the cockles of my little black heart.

My cousin believes that men and women can’t be friends.  He’s stupid like that.  The proof came from nowhere else than having a girly-mate over to my old place for one last good meal there before I leave it to its folly.  In my new apartment, and it is fantastic.  This girly-mate of mine is married, quite happily.  We worked together at my job at the college library.  There is absolutely no sexual tension between us.  We make each other laugh, and have fun just talking and enjoying one-another’s company.  Since it was the send-off to my shitty old place and the shitty “kitchen” that I had, I wanted to go big.  Decided to make something really special.

On Facebook, I follow a TON of the pages that have the little cooking videos from an overhead angle.  I love that shit.  Since I love to cook, it appeals to me.  And now I FINALLY have a kitchen to do it!  You all have no idea how happy this makes me.  Already got a ton of ideas.  And since I am now interviewing for a job that is a step up from where I am now, my hope is to get ahead.  Needless to say, things are pretty alright.  My new place doesn’t have a microwave.  That is a problem.  One I will solve on Craigslist, eventually.  Along with a mixer and other things.  And a slow cooker.  Definitely that.

Back to my story, I had this friend over, and I made something really unique – Tuscan chicken in angel hair pasta.  Here is a pic I took of it.

tuscan-chickenIt was a giant pain the ass.  It took a lot of patience and being willing to test myself.  I didn’t measure things out specifically.  I winged a lot of it, and you know what – it was worth it.  The final product was one of the finest things I have ever made.  It was a fantastic night.  The two of us were stuffed to the point that we couldn’t even have the fantastic dessert I had planned.  No complaints.  Was awesome.  However, I am going somewhere with this.

The thing I have learned after years of making food is that nothing makes a social gathering come together more than homemade food with good conversation and laughter from people.  Just getting to talk about the process of making and sharing in the meal that I made with another person was some of the most fun I have had in years.  With a proper kitchen, I truly want to see if I can make something fantastic with as many people as I can.

Over the years, I have watched my cooking talents go from strength to strength.  Sure, there have been mistakes along the way.  Some truly amazing fuck-ups that blow my freaking mind.  But in the midst of all of those have come experiments in taste that blow my mind.  The first time I made bagels from scratch.  Laborious, time-consuming, but getting to bit into the final product made that all worth it.  Every holiday I make a new kind of cheesecake.  Last year it was pumpkin cheesecake.  Okay, but not great.  I am planning on doing stromboli, one of these months.  As I sit in my new place, and eat a fresh naval orange, I am inspired to see what I can come up with next.  Experimenting with fruit salad, the kind of salad I actually like.  Making pan-fried potatoes for a guest, something that I am so fucking good at.  Just ask my old man.  He likes my kind of pan-fried better than my mother’s, and that’s saying something.

Good food is a gift.  One that I want to share with as many people as I can before my death wish comes for me.  And for all you guys out there, if you’re single, there is no excuse.  Learn to fucking cook!  Women will swoon if you can make their taste buds ring.  Then you might be able to get their pussy to follow suit.  I got a cousin to prove wrong, and all the time in the world to do it.  What are you all’s thoughts?  Let me know down in the Comments.

Until next time, a quote,

“Much like traveling, meals eaten alone are dull and without flavor.” – The Count, Gankutsuou: The Count of Monte Cristo

Peace out,


In Memory, In Ink

I have a friend named Quinn.  Ever since she was ten years old, she lost the ability to speak.  She got incredibly sick.  It was a disease that caused massive inflammation all over her body.  She nearly died.  A fever of 104, death nearly came for her but she came back from it.  Now she no longer has the ability to speak.  It’s been a very hard life for her.  You don’t really think about the value that the ability to speak has until you lose it.  So much of her life was hurt, and she has been trying to come back from it for as long as she could.

Through all of that, there was her incredibly supportive mother.  Even when she found out that her daughter was gay, and her father kicked her out of the house, her mother did everything she could to help her.  To the point that they ended up getting a nasty divorce because the mother hated the father for how he treated their daughter, which in turn translated into how well he treated her sister because she was the child he had always wanted.  Meanwhile, Quinn had her mother.  When she was really little, as I understand it, Quinn was a very talkative little kid.  Her mother called her “Chatty Monkey.”  It was with this in mind that when she died, Quinn had an idea for a tat.  But since she has no artistic talent, it just stayed as an idea, until now.  With the help of my dear friend Kathryn, it has finally come to fruition.  As it will when it is immortalized on Quinn’s skin forever.  One of three tats, all of which have great significance for her.

16901932_10155070158909111_1716337255_nThe monkey is to stand for the nickname that her mother had for her all her life.  The gun is because her mother was a crack-shot, most specifically with a revolver.  The smoke is because, the unfortunate truth is that her mother was a chimney.  You can extrapolate how she died based on that.  Woman went through a pack a day.  I try not to judge how people live, but as her coughing got worse, even Quinn felt terrible.  The woman left our state to go be in a warmer climate, and it did help.  But it only went so far.

A wonderful woman has passed away.  She left a legacy of a connection between mother and daughter that is unmatched, from a girl who life has been horribly unkind to.  How people keep their memories close.  Quinn is putting this memory on her hip.  So when you see this image, keep in mind the connection it symbolizes.  Let me know the connections that you have with people who have left your life and how you keep that alive in the Comments.

Until next time, a quote,

“Death is not the greatest loss in life.  The greatest loss in life is what dies inside us while we live.” – Norman Cousins

Peace out,


Holding Hands

She asked us out for a drink
After work
Long day
Sounded like a great idea

Perfect evening
Restaurant is fun
We only have a couple
Gotta drive home

She gets white girl wasted
So much fun
No fucks to give
All the barriers are down

Decides to stop
Good girl
But what now?
Can’t go home this buzzed

Family there
Doubles as landlords
Asks me to drive around
We can shoot the shit until it wears off

As we drive, she has idea
Takes phone out and starts shooting video
So much fun
Narrating the drive and being ridiculous

Such a fun night
Don’t want it to end
She’s so much fun!
A crazy idea, I have

A dare – livestream this!
She does it!
This night is so insane!
Might be bad, but who cares?

Then, gets more serious
We start talking about other things
And that’s when it happens
She holds my hand

Her fingers lock with mine
It’s a lover’s grip
She leans against my arm
What’s going on here?

Asking more serious questions
Asks if I love her
What can I say?
What can I possibly say?

This is wrong
She’s involved
She’s loyal
What is happening here?

We hold hands, talk into the phone camera
Goes on for hours
Why don’t I want this to end?
Feels so good

It can’t go on
When the buzz wears off, the loyalty returns
She realizes the truth
What’s happening here is wrong

We get to her home
Ask her what it meant
Holds our clutched hand to her face
Says she doesn’t know

Doesn’t know?
We’ve been holding each other like lovers for hours!
Why doesn’t she have some idea?
So damn confused

Next day, tries to avoid it
Don’t want to tell the truth
What happened between us
Who is helped by the truth

Truth comes out
She tells us the truth
Was using us
Used our loneliness to get what she wanted

It hurts, but it doesn’t
In fact, it’s still just confusing
I still loved that night
Would do it all over again in a heartbeat

However, the damage is done
She is ashamed of herself
Become awkward and distant
What has happened to us?

She’s putting distance between us
Not now!
Not after what has just been shared!

That night, and her gentle clutching hand
Will stay with me forever
But here’s the worrying part
Will I stay with her that long?

I held her hand
She held mine
She held it to her face
It was like a kiss

I don’t know what this means
Nor does she
Get the feeling everything hinges on us figuring the answer out
The question she wanted to ask

Was afraid to
Might not like the answer
Wanted to know anyway – do I love her
Answer is, maybe

She held my hand
I held hers
It was enough
For two hours, it was enough

Peace out,