Lost in Txtlation

These are the cookie crumbs for my depreciating mind.

Tag: me

Multi Task Me

Reading a book is stimulating and it has things like structure and grammar etc. However a book seems like a comfort.

A book is something that has an ending, a preconceived idea. It has a direction and follows it, or intentionally breaks it for drama comedy or action.

A book caters to the idea of needing that closure or that happy ending regardless of happy or sad that say a movie does.

But a txt message or an email or a conversation… Those are the tough ones. They may not have the best grammar, or even a complete though, but looking and reading them and actually hearing them determine the next chapter.

Every phrase I say fits into this story I conceptualize when I wake up, when I sleep at night, etc.

Why is it so hard to see bigger than the sentence or lines or script I have made for myself day by day.

I just want you(meaning anyone) to read past the lines, I am not a dead poet but dammit a little analysis never hurt.

You can say write or act out a million things in a day, and it can all happen at once, analysis, your heart, feelings, future conversations, past thoughts. Please don’t try to read me like a book.

I will not fall into your structure nor will I fight against it for no reason. I will loose sight of things like anyone and humble when wrong. I can feel more from seeing your face or hearing your voice or reading a letter you wrote between lunches.

And that is just it, I will and want that feel.

My process to feel may be a bit different but it isn’t closed to the affects.

Multi task me.

It is today, your today, and it is interesting to me.

I am extremely passionate about the world. I love to be a part of it, analyzing it, figuring it out, being frustrated that I can’t always get the answer. But I will fight tooth and nail to find out or talk my way into an answer! Shit I think I am passionate about being passionate… and when I am not, it shows clear as day.

Being in a city of passionate people, I want to explore the places familiar and unfamiliar with someone I can hold in my arms, to make the experiences different as if it was the first time all over again, because you are there.

I have so many interests, I am not a cookie cutter, I like to try it all. I want to be peeled back like an onion, and I will even help you peel back the pieces to speed up the process, I have always believed in getting to know someone without reservation or thought of “I could get hurt” because honestly, how many times can you go into a situation like meeting someone new with those ideals and not miss out on what could be or waste time on what shouldn’t be because of caution. Damn straight I am OK with being hurt, that is the risk to finding the perfect match isn’t it? If we all strive for Money, Careers, and Love, why is it that Love always gets the stepchild treatment when it comes to the effort we put into it. Why are we so afraid to go after it the same we would react to someone offering us a million dollars to jump eyes closed into a once in a lifetime opportunity. I know people will fight tooth and nail for their goals in life, so why not put that same effort into a relationship.

To me that is the part where I am learning, learning to protect myself from myself. How does one date and protect themselves while being open and sharing to get to know the the other person. I have always been very bad at the protecting myself part. I often share a lot which in turn makes the other person comfortable with me but what am I getting in return to feel comfortable as well. I need to learn how to “reject” those who I do not feel are good for me. I need to stop compromising myself and what I love so as a strange validation that I am me. I am always me. You could be my mother, my best friend, my co-worker, I will talk to you and treat you the same. I don’t want to worry about my different “personas” I will get lost, I will forget my own name. I hope the right person can realize I am not their ex-boyfriend and won’t treat me as such. I often make the perfect “first date” to go on with if you just broke up with a boyfriend, and you are actually not looking to date, but want company and need help sorting the massive mind fuck you and him created for one another. However I am not going through more years of school to get a doctorate so I can legitimately start charging per hour.  I still am looking for that person that makes a blog entry like this obsolete in my life. A person who makes me shut down a dating profile for good. I am actually one of the few looking for the means to an end, to create a beautiful beginning; naturally, organically, and somewhat digitalized.

I will 99 out of a 100 times be more inclined to sit with the person I am dating, talking, than I will be to go to a club.

I think being able to walk down the street and being on the same wavelength of what grabs your attention is important. It is the difference between pulling on your sleeve and yelling,

“OMG LOOK THERE LOOK THERE LOOK THERE” before you miss it and just turning to you and bursting into laughter together.

I understand NYC is a city of don’t look up but I believe even though I too do not look up, seeing the people and the environment of social euphoria breaths a certain life into my spirit. I took that for granted when I moved to California after living out there for 5 years and moved back to NYC for the social/cultural inspiration I grew up with. So YES I point out the street performer that I think is amazing, and yes I talk about the people I see that strike my fancy, or the conversation I overhear from the person on the subway next to me, I still get motivated by them as part of this walking canvas NY.

I do NOT have all my life goals together, my career, my head, they are not clear, they are in process, scary, anxiety inducing spurts of extremes, and I think that is OK. I have a different opinion on the “knowing yourself” before you can meet someone else. Albeit I respect who I am and don’t really have walls to life, and really am always me 24 / 7(with some help here and there to remember) but I thought a lot about that idea and I came up with, I believe we will find ourselves till the day we die because the days leading up to death define us, as well as the people we meet. So if we didn’t look while we were also finding ourselves it would be too late. I believe it isn’t how people interact doing different things but how they are with each other at the moments in front of them.

Three years ago to the day I left a very good job in terms of “job standards” to pursue my passions and to fill the emptiness in me that I would call ultimate happiness. It was hard and continues to be. I am not your 100k+ a year guy anymore, nor do I prioritize that. If I wanted money to be the deciding factor I would have stayed put, but it turns out money really cannot buy you happiness, only a SHIT TON can lol. (no I don’t expect someone to buy me dinner, but I do expect a mutual respect of financial comfort)

The last thing I want people to know, is I believe that people judge on snippets like these too often, when in turn these are just small layers of who we are, and to me the cool part of this is that we can talk about it after we write our blurbs. It allows us to see past the MOMENT that this was written and know the person as a whole.

Love will find you… but stop hiding!

My mother always told me to “wait, be patient, love would come to you”.

If and when I hear this today, I can’t help but think this is the furthest idea from the truth. Either it is my innate need to rebel against my mother’s advice or it is my sense of self being defined enough to know that the “Love will find you” love is not the love I want. I do not strive for the staple white picket fence, mortgage, two kids, and flat screen TV 2 inches bigger than my neighbors. My white picket fence is not a place or a thing, it is a feeling, a way of being. My “hallmark family” is defined by how we live our lives and treat the world around us, not building up a literal and metaphysical wall to create a new world, isolated from the paved street filled with other’s also hiding in their own homes, feet from one another. My ideal love is able to live in the world in front of me, to be present for the ups and downs, and to feel everyday as intensely as the last.

I have written many things about two people’s timeline’s and how that can affect your ability to love and that once you do love that love alone, is not enough.

The question I often struggle with is, how do you “find” love then? We seem to be OK with it “finding” us, but someone has to be doing the hunting. If it isn’t me, who is it? If your mother taught you the same thing, what kind of stasis is love attracting us to one another in?

If you do run into a situation where there is a potential for love, should you grab it by the head or should you, like a child, pull its hair and run away giggling, in hopes that it got the clue? We often use words like “clingy” or “intense” to define those who show their true intentions up front when it comes to the topic. I come off as the little kid yelling “Mom, Mom Mom” still, but I’m just excited about most new things and people in my life. I find it to be a tricky tight rope to walk, not only for the other person and to not scare away the deer who heard the twig break, but to also keep your own guard and not get trampled by an idea of love. To keep the balance of self vs infatuation, letting it breath and grow naturally, but also adding wood to the stove before it burns out too quick. 

Finding someone else regardless of the social constraints:

  • Who pays the bill

  • Who buys the first drink

  • When you split the bill

  • who sends the first message

  • Who txts first

  • Who calls first
  • Who says I love you first

What does it all really matter or mean in the long run?

In an organic situation you will find someone attractive and then subsequently judge them based on who they are. What you do in that moment is almost irrelevant, since if and when you decide one day to spend the rest of your lives together today is going to be a distant memory. You will remember feelings, looks, exchanges. You won’t remember the taste of the food or the price of the wine. Things change, jobs change, we change… but our connections grow and to grow together surpasses the social confines of a date.

We shouldn’t put so much pressure on the first impressions or circumstances rather than the person right in front of us. The thing that is most important.

So maybe that is the answer to “letting love find you”; allowing yourself to be open, vulnerable, and safe all at once, in the moment, with the person, regardless of the place, time, or everyday needs bestowed on you as a human being. Listening to them and them to you, letting go of your body to be yourself and actually see them and you in the full picture, before making a judgement or acting on an impulse. We don’t have to meet at the pinnacle of perfection we just have to meet. Then we have to be open to communication and understanding. Then if what ever interested us at our first “spark” is strong enough as we travel along our own life lines we will actually become two people who encourage and inspire one another.

By the way feel free to replace the word love in this with relationship or partner or girlfriend or friend at any point. You will find they all fit.

Just some food for thought today.

Just me

Grasping it all, melding it with tears…

How does one admit they are lost and need help, if by the very act of doing this implies they know what kind of help they need when asked “What can I do to help?” from those willing to extend a hand. If only to stand here very alone, very scared, very secluded on an island filled with very sporadic ups and downs. Mortality creeping into every thought. The idea of blackness and nothing, unable to grasp it. Feeling like that could happen before ever getting to feel what it is to live.

To love.

To be happy…To be truly happy. To fullfil the childhood idea of happiness.

The funny part is the longer I go on, the more my mind begins to halt it’s ability to age with me. My eyes deceive me about those around me and my reality creeps up again, telling me, you waisted the days when you could have established better. Of course most is a facade and a dirty anxiety to getting older. I am not older than but a minute ago, yet my vision sees an age that is mixed with those, who to them, wonder why I am saying things like, “back in my day” as they see me not as I see myself. To be a little confused would be a great affliction. But instead it is a chaos storm of time.

I hesitate. That is the biggest problem, my hesitation. The hesitation to jump. I never hesitated, perhaps because I felt there was much more time ahead of me. So I jumped, jumped into left and right. I love so many things but can devote myself to nothing in particular. When you feel like you are running out of time, you tend to be more cautious with your leaps. “I envy your freedom” is a phrase I hear a lot, but with pure freedom comes, a feeling of falling. Without the ground and walls, you must be able to grasp to the metaphysical walls of your passions and love. So I pushed forward and pressed against all my passions and loves, yet nothing stuck after I began to slip again, falling slowly down to my knees then to my butt pressed against that wall, that felt comforting. Remembering what it felt like, knowing I did the right thing by letting it go, but afraid of the ground below again. Fear is where is gets scary, because fear can embody itself into your dreams, your life, your mind, and your happiness.

My mind now treats me as if I am weak, attacking at the happy moments where I can forget about the endless days and dreams of memories and futures never happened or half experienced.

So I go day to day, feeling more detached from myself than normal, wishing I could just grasp onto it all and ball my eyes out into it. Letting it understand with each drop, what my mind is thinking. Not having to say a damn word, write a word, think a thought. It would just be a perfect inception of who I can become.

Is it a location, did I jump the gun, did my fear take me to a place where I wasn’t ready for yet, will it help if I go back, will it make it worse, should I stay, should I give in, should I go even crazier. How do you take the giant steps when the little ones are so painfully excruciating on your mind that you need to dose yourself into the calming summer winds that blow near the strike of 2 am, which you normally sleep through, unlike the days prior where that was when it all began.

I want to die happy. And if I died today I would not be happy. I would not be anything but a shell of hopes, dreams, ambitions, and past achievements. I guess in your eyes, I may have done well, but in my eyes, I need to be more than what I have been.

I want to die first and foremost knowing I experienced loves embrace, the warmth of a light on at home when walking toward it. Even finding the perfect moment, is like a Greek tragedy, my eyes plunging the knife into my mind while I embrace the facts in-front of me. Feeling betrayed by my own ideas of what life should have been. Feeling as though I betrayed myself by not making life the way I wanted it to be.

I could continue to make examples and hidden messages, but that is all I wanted to share for now. The end.

If my life were a video game…

A tale that writes with the days, a story that is not ending.
There was a time when writing my own tale seemed to be something of an impossibility. My story, my journeys, had only just begun. I myself did not know the words for the pages .

I am still that same wanderer, but I have traveled down many long roads. I have laughed among men. I have lain upon a lady’s breast. I have smelled the sweet aroma of spring, and time after time I have chased the setting sun to the West.

My story, if told, could not be written in any book. Books are for tales, morals and heroes. My life cannot be categorized. It has been a road of many turns. If you applied a simple method of storytelling to a life such as this, the plot would thicken until it devoured its own pages.
I once met a woman with truer words I’ve yet to hear.

“So your past haunts you, but here you stand with your life in front of you. I believe you should turn around and walk forward. If perchance you stumble upon the shadows of your life, stand with them. Wait until night, then move forward again. Live your life, Tristan.”

I could tell you about my childhood. I vaguely remember a boy who cried himself to sleep not knowing why. Ages later I recalled hands forced upon him, ripping the tears from his eyes. A boy forced to grow alone except for a few angels voices. There was a sibling that kept him safe though he remembers a different day and a different role. There was a far off family, but even though distance reminds him differently, they now seem closer than ever. It’s as if it was a dream, but that dream still haunts me and it impacts my decisions day to day.

It is cogent to talk about my changes and how I grew strong; how I held onto rebellion and traveled alone. But with all strengths comes a sense of despair. A newfound need for passion, for understanding. A need for exposition, for all of me to be explained and not hidden away beneath layers of hazy intrigue.

A truth will carry you far, but in a place where deceit becomes truth, one must choose their words wisely. I combine my stories with small bits of rhyme, it helps when writing to pass the time.
A man who stands and refuses to agree or has strong feelings and passions needs to understand the concept I now know. Humble one’s self.

My life has encountered so many different types of personalities, but with them came cookie cutters and molded people alike. Until the day I meet a person who’s flawed; a person with their own passions, desires, and needs. A person who sees beyond words and reads the stories of the world, able to apply them to his/her own tale, I shall continue to choose to follow my path alone.
I walk this world willingly. I look forward to large goals and achievements, but unlike the ranger who sifts through the sand and tastes each grain in attempt to plan his travels, I do not have a mouth filled with dirt and false hope. I see things in a way that (one would hope) are true. Regardless of pain or personal pleasure, my needs are much deeper. To pain others is not my wish, but I am sardonic and I do have a sharp tongue. I will debate you to death if you are naïve. I will scream for my ideals until I am blue. I don’t believe in an answer before it’s proven to be true. My humor is dry, my passions sometimes hidden, but my world is for all and I will happily let you in… but remember this well because I will say it only once; my layers are deep. If you want more than the surface, you will need to earn trust, not simple acquaintance.

I would not call myself a cynic, but rather someone who enjoys the daily pleasures bestowed to us from birth. I see a picture larger than my own, I tie in events and try to knot them so when I am faced with choices I have a tightly bound rope of my life to utilize and climb until the answer is found. If there is no rejoinder, I climb further and look for a place to swing to another and look for aid outside myself.

If I were to summate my personality and life in a line, it would be simple, “I am the fool from an epic play. I say what I want but in the right way. I hold nothing back, my tongue leads me. I see more than you think, I jest at your faults but you do not get riled, I am but a fool in a world closed in by walls. I walk outside and enjoy the sounds of nature, the peasants, and return for the king alike. I sit with the animals and am afraid of bees, but I myself am just a fool who ‘knows nothing.’”

So in a simple recapitulation of this summation, my life is moving forward. I mostly travel alone but look forward to seeing friendly faces. If you gain my trust, I will give you a new and invasive world. By this I speak of not a negative connotation, but exciting and different and filled with laughter. Our adventures will be grand. The bloodshed will not be from our veins, but instead the blood of those who get in our way. It will be a bond like no other, friendships to carry horses in their daily journeys, sweeping even the fastest steed to the side.

Through my eyes I see the world; through your eyes can you see mine?

Day 93, FINALLY a recovery week. My body needed it after 4 weeks of pounding it. I lay off the prote

Day 93, FINALLY a recovery week. My body needed it after 4 weeks of pounding it. I lay off the protein shakes and limit my diet a little bit during recovery weeks but not much. I want my body to heal as much as possible and it needs fuel to do that. I am soo happy with the results I have had so far. Here’s to another set of this for the summer push 🙂

That sweat was from LEGS only today. So all of you who ignore legs, THINK AGAIN. The second picture

That sweat was from LEGS only today. So all of you who ignore legs, THINK AGAIN.

The second picture was me stretching haha.

Lesson of the day, if in a rush, do not wear this shirt. Luckily I wasn’t in a rush :) FREE HU

Lesson of the day, if in a rush, do not wear this shirt. Luckily I wasn’t in a rush 🙂 FREE HU

Multi Task Me

Reading a book is stimulating and it has things like structure and grammar etc. However a book seems like a comfort.

A book is something that has an ending, a preconceived idea. It has a direction and follows it, or intentionally breaks it for drama comedy or action.

A book caters to the idea of needing that closure or that happy ending regardless of happy or sad that say a movie does.

But a txt message or an email or a conversation… Those are the tough ones. They may not have the best grammar, or even a complete though, but looking and reading them and actually hearing them determine the next chapter.

Every phrase I say fits into this story I conceptualize when I wake up, when I sleep at night, etc.

Why is it so hard to see bigger than the sentence or lines or script I have made for myself day by day.

I just want you(meaning anyone) to read past the lines, I am not a dead poet but dammit a little analysis never hurt.

You can say write or act out a million things in a day, and it can all happen at once, analysis, your heart, feelings, future conversations, past thoughts. Please don’t try to read me like a book.

I will not fall into your structure nor will I fight against it for no reason. I will loose sight of things like anyone and humble when wrong. I can feel more from seeing your face or hearing your voice or reading a letter you wrote between lunches.

And that is just it, I will and want that feel.

My process to feel may be a bit different but it isn’t closed to the affects.

Multi task me.

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