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I feel like I’ve been so far away lately. Distanced from my realities. Audienced in them. Cue laughter.

Hopeful the next episode will loop me into ‘previously on…’

It’s almost like being buzzed. You’re left on some worry free higher plane, looking down on those still living the real life.

I’m ready for the next season to start. Anxiously awaiting the build up to the finale. Desperately hoping for a renewal.



I spend a good part of my days trying to conceptualize who I am. It’s because I feel so confused. Seems there’s a large part of me that can’t comprehend the complexities of others. Therefore, by conclusion, I find I do not understand myself.

“Everyone hears only what he understands.”

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Maybe the puzzle begins there, if I can grasp some sort of self-realization I can then make my way through this maze. Life is complex because of people. If you break it down to days, minutes, seconds, where are the key moments located? In instances of interaction, social, or otherwise.


Kahlil Gibran quotes

From there would behaviors feel so irrational? I would assume not. My question really, however, is what happens as we grow and change? Then what, does all the research get thrown out the door? Or, with the insights granted, we still have some comprehension as to why behaviors are occuring? Then we can never say we are surprised but that we saw something ignited.

“Get in touch with the way the other person feels. Feelings are 55% body language, 38% tone and 7% words.”

-Professor Albert Mehrabian

As one can probably tell I have reasons for wanting all this “knowledge.” Some days it feels worth the effort and others, well I just want to throw everyone into a pit of fire.

Being that I’m human my patience is wearing thin. As I strive to “give the benefit of the doubt” or to strictly “get people” I become less patient with their…limitations.

Granted you can see I am not a perfect communicator but I do value that I try, honestly. There is no day I want to pass with someone being confused as to what I meant by anything, spoken or otherwise.


Why do we hold on? Ever fearful of what’s to come we trudge. Calves sore, feet salted from sweat. The ground hot like the beach thick like mud. Continuously traveling uphill.

A treadmill set at incline 10, pack on back, summer sun, forgot breakfast.

At some point we tell ourselves it’s worth it. Who’s worse, us to ourselves or others to us? I knew there were liars and thieves, away from me and in the distance, but never have I felt so comparable.

But it’s worth it.

Wondering what “it” is.

Lately I’ve been practically in-able to wake up. It’s as if no matter the dream it is better than the awake. My comatose reality plays tricks, however, creating strange awareness and frustrations.

I tried to start a book and I couldn’t focus.

I need to focus.

I need coffee, for life.


Midnight and Thought Provoked.

So, obviously on a sugar rush. Here I am. Insomniac. Thinking and deliberating.

I can miss what I used to see. Miss all those memories. But really I can’t tell you truly, if I do miss you and me.

Rhyming sucks.


Kind of spewing at the moment.

I’m feeling like I’m ready for time to move more swiftly. Can we say…quick montage to the future? That’d be great. First, of course, the epic background music (remix) has to be chosen. Not sure yet. Have a few ideas.

Eye of the Tiger

The final countdown

I’m a Barbie Girl – just to mix it up.

In no way does the music have to be motivational.


I’m not sure where I’m at. Kind of feeling like I’m floating through life. Grasping at straws.

The straws being forcible diet and exercise. Can’t tell if I’m really enjoying the participation or just the routine. Or just any of it.

For now I’m going to continue.

Work is losing it’s luster. Stress. Repetition. Disappointment. It’s so hard to really depend on any of my co-workers there. Smooth sailing ship is like a wet dream.


Good night. I think I’ll start a new book tomorrow. Something more…entrapping.

Re-make my love for the Movies

50 Upcoming Movie Remakes (Yep, 50!)

Here’s to hoping we can grab hold of some originality.

This thought brought to you by the hundreds of re-makes that are now coming out in theatre’s. I was speaking to my Father earlier today and mentioned that the point of these films is that they came out when they did. Added on to that ideal is also the enjoyment as to what “effects” were available at the time. So what 3D wasn’t on the big screen or that special effects weren’t at their peak. I do not mind. I especially do not mind the sound of a grown man making the “chi-chi-chi-ca-ca-ca” sounds in Friday the 13th.

It is indeed the point that the films were made then and therefore in their prime. Is it sad for us to relive the periods for which the films were made? Are we so caught up in the “give me now’s” that we must steroid enhance all films that have already been produced? What is this?

Books are still being made. Yes ideas are recycled, whether it be due to the seed of “I’ve heard a similar story once before” or that humans are only so original, books are constantly being written. Films, please join the club.

I know originality is in short supply and that themes replay themselves. Heck, “vintage” is always in and styles once “forgotten” are making the full swing back.

None the less as a viewer I am frustrated.

Dear Theatres,

I love you. Now please show me something I haven’t seen.

– Sincerely,

The Dearly Devoted


My life feels in constant motion. I’m not sure how long this will last or if it will ever end.

Motion as in chaos.

I’m making monumental decisions about my life. Where. When. What.

It must be done. Things are different now, though I’m holding on, and I must change with it.


For now my focus is the gym and hang-outs when I want to. You could say I’m hiding out but I feel focused. As much as possible when life feels so distracted and unrelenting. My break is books and keeping away from others.

This year is transitional and next year will be bigger. I see things ahead, on the horizon. Maybe to be expected by some but for me…it’s finally happening.



Life is like a rocket ship through space. Quickly moving through what seems like…nothingness. Possible collisions. Surrounded by unknown. The furthest reaches are slicked with fear, black ice. Here we race.

We can quantify all the significant moments in our life. I feel like there’s a file drawer somewhere filled with empty folders. I believe them to be pre-labeled. Ready to be filled.

Life doesn’t seem to be moment by moment. It’s chunk of time by chunk of time.

Feels so quick. Like that rocket. Traveling. Constant. The deaths are the ends of journeys. We made it to the moon but how? It’s that. The recollection. The reliving. The remembrance. Don’t you feel it? It’s the culminating moments. Who we were when making our way.

We’ve been so many versions of ourselves and continue to change.

I’m not sure who I’ll be a year from now but there will be some part of me that I’ll miss.

It’s always about the way we were.


I raise my glass to the pain. The pain of new life. The pain of a dead life. The pain of cycle.

Mourning comfort and security. I can say, honestly, I liked being Married. When it was good. Something stable in an ever rocking world. Sadly, there’s more to it than titles and misinterpreted perceptions.

Cheers to the rose-colored glasses. Cheers to the naive.

Unknown Want

Indecisively I sit. Crawling more like. Towards that light in the corner. There’s something hopeful about it. Hopeful it leads somewhere. Hopeful it can be anything.

Crawling disjointed. This is all so new. I was walking so long I’d forgotten how to crawl. Training wheels. Crawling feels more desirous. Your end destination more of a journey. An adventure. An accomplishment.

The light stares back at me. Barely. Squeezing my eyes to make sure what I see is real. The light. So dim. Crawling again, confused.

When did I start crawling? What is that light? It so barely glows I’m surprised I noticed it at all. I’d say it was calling to me but it’s reflectant glimmers barely whisper my name.

It seems so far away now. Is it really there? Like a galaxy spotted at side glance, who knows for certain it’s existence. Light please bring good fortune. After all crawling is so…unnatural now. Begging really. Pleading.

Not sure why I even care for this light. Long for it. Crave it’s explanation. But I do. So I’ll continue to crawl. Towards.