Sometimes you just feel the need to get out of town, you know?
So I'm in the beautiful town of Nashville today, hanging out with my good friends Tre and ReG. That's pretty much the long and short of it. I don't have a lot to say, but I will say sometimes I just feel the need to leave town. So I did. I gotta admit, it feels great. I'll write more whenever I can think of something worthwhile. For now, I'm going to go practice playing my harmonica.

Guess who's back? Back again?
So. . .here we are. I started this blog in college, because it was "the thing to do", never did work out that not being a follower thing and over the years, there's been pictures of the hulk, samples of songs I liked, my thoughts, well really my rants, on any and everything, and of course, my favorite, what I like to call jerk vision. That would be these extremely biased italicized comments that generally say what I'm afraid to say. Or just quotes songs and movies. Whatever. And here I am. A college dropout. Or least I was a college dropout, for now, now I am a college student once more. And I know what you're thinking, didn't college break me? Turn me into a quivering mass of flesh consumed with anger? First, I should point out that while those thoughts are eloquent and a tad bit disturbing, they are rather accurate. Yes, I got broken. Higher learning and academics turned me into a bitter shell of a man. And I think admitting that there was something that I couldn't do, actually made me a better person. Knowing that I can't do everything, knowing that I'm not invincible, that my mind isn't some automatic safety net really helped me to understand something. If I want anything, in this life or another, I have to earn it. Nothing lasts forever, so to speak, but nothing is ever given to you. If someone hands you something, there is always a cost, there is always something that you must do. You may not earn the right to have that thing, but you do need to show that you want it. So now, now I am going back to the very establishment which spit me out, and I am standing tall, older, wiser, and a considerable deal more intelligently, and I am defying it to do me in again. I know that I have what it takes, and what's more, I know that history will not repeat itself, if for no other reason than I won't let it beat me again. So if you like an underdog story, if you want to know if I can take a KO punch and keep swinging, then keep coming back here, because I will continue documenting my rise from the canvas. Or at least start blogging again. With some regularity. Or maybe none at all. I really couldn't say with any definitive statement. But come back. I'll definitely make it worth your while.

Its been awhile. . .

Two years ago, I was here.
But I really didn't want to be here.
I wanted to be anywhere
See if you knew where here was,
if you knew you'd envy me,
hate me
want to be me,
but ultimately,
you'd be glad you weren't here.
Potentially trapped,
potential that remains untapped,
its actually unsettling,
not that I'm settling
but I'm not settled,
I'm not well, not worth my "mettle"
I can't even make my thoughts rhyme,
let alone just nod my head on time,
to a beat that everyone else hears,
its like being a guest star on Cheers,
my worthy peers,
know what they hold dear,
they live they laugh,
and to me I guess its clear,
the hunger I held,
the hunger I still hold,
will always be young,
even when I grow old.
Right?

Have you ever just wanted to be bitter? I suppose most people don't have to consider what it would be like. They just are. All my life, I've been taught that being bitter is selfish. That mistreating others to make yourself feel better isn't the "noble" thing to do. Be the bigger person. Ironically enough, I'm always the bigger person physically, and yes, I know that isn't what that phrase means. But whenever I do something that is competely and totally vindictive, when I alienate the object of my bitterness, when I crush some tender feeling, when I walk over some poor soul, when I give in to the "selfishness" that is bitterness, I have to be completely honest. It is the single most delicious feeling known. It makes you feel so alive, you just want to do it over and over and over again. There is nothing better than revenge. It is a dish best served, cold hot or otherwise. Trust me, I'll take a dish of lukewarm revenge over any other. That having been said, I am remiss to include that I competely hate being that guy. I am not a vindictive person by nature. I take that back. I am a vindictive person by nature. I am also conflicted because I'm a really nice person. A very nice person. Maybe not the nicest of persons, since everytime I want to do something nice, I hate doing that nice thing. It is a constant struggle to treat people the way I know they should treated. That being said, I cringe everytime I think of doing something that could be relegated to the "wrong" category. Its this battle of right and wrong, good and evil, light and dark, whatever analogy you would impose, it is this battle that I think ultimately defines me. For every moment that someone thinks I am being mean, and I deny it, I always am, somewhere in my mind. I'm driven to do what's right, but often times, I am compelled to ignore that drive. Maybe that's something every human deals with. Maybe not. But I do know this. I am willing to admit I want to do what's wrong sometimes. If that isn't your thing, if that offends you, then I suggest you take a serious assessment of who you are, because you are lying to yourself if you honestly believe you don't have the urge to do what's wrong. Am I condoning doing something unacceptable? No. I'm condoning accepting your weaknesses for what they are. Weaknesses. And once you know your weakness, you can begin to lean on your strengths, and even overcome the weaknesses you have.

Grow up.

How wrong would that really be?

So here we are...the blog. Its dusty, its not been used in a while, and I gotta tell you, lately, I've not felt up to doing anything worthwhile or posting anything. I feel like I'm shooting in the dark. That alone should be reason enough to stop. Bullets drop back down to earth, and the last thing I want to do is to be shot by my plummeting attempts at hitting something, anything.

Does that mean I'm done? Not quite. I'm just trying to figure somethings out. I'll get back to you on it when I do.