Balu

 I am broke. I no longer know who I am or what the meaning of life is.

Balu is gone. Wife is gone. Moose is gone.

I have no friends. 

I want to die.

The house is empty. Quiet. Dark. Full of memories. Sadness. Depression sets in.

I want to die.

Life is hell. Torture. I hate it.

I want to die.

The above was written last year.

I chose not to publish it because it felt too personal and dark and I've been afraid that it would trigger a well-fair check or something along those lines. Truth be told, I still feel the same way as I did a year ago albeit with a few more moments throughout the week where I am free of the memories of my ex, Balu, and my golden Moose who is with her in Montana.

Who was Balu?
He was the greatest dog to ever live on this Earth. Balu was a rescue puppy who came from a family of several brothers and sisters. He was a border collie and black lab mix. 

The day we got him was quite a day. My ex and I already had Moose for something like a year and half and she had mentioned getting another dog and I had been opposed to it because I felt like we were struggling to give adequate care to Moose, our golden retriever. You see, between my work in investment banking and my ex doing research and teaching classes at a major university and several smaller colleges, it just didn't seem reasonable to buy another dog when the dog we had spent most of his days alone.

I came home from work one day and she insisted we "just go look" at a family of puppies she had learned about. It was a mild summer day, very nice and comfortable. We drove to another part of town and arrived at an average American house where we were directed towards the backyard where the puppies were. The backyard was a good size with a small pool, slide, grass, and plenty of toys laying around. It was a very nice place for rescue dogs to spend that short amount of time in between being rescued and getting adopted.

There were several mostly black puppies running around and I was interacting and playing with them while my ex was speaking with the host family. While we were there another family arrived and within what must have been 10 or 15 minutes they had chose a male puppy, the one I originally wanted. 

I found out there was only one male left for adoption and a couple females - I wanted a male. I don't know why but I've always felt a stronger connection toward male dogs and male animals in general. That left one remaining puppy. He was a little aloof, didn't come to me right away like the other male had. He was doing his own thing away from most of the other dogs so I feared he was anti-social and perhaps even had a personality disorder!

With no options left, I selected him and he was gracious enough to accept me. I remember holding him in the car while my ex drove us to the vet to get him a vasectomy. Yes, a vasectomy. My ex had learned they are healthier for dogs, so that is what we did.

While driving there, I was holding him with me in the passenger seat and I broke down crying because I was afraid we would be overwhelmed with a second dog and that we could not give him the love he deserved but the entire time she reminded me that we would and could.

After a very long time driving because of traffic and the fact the vet was another town over, we finally arrived. But not before the poor pup had puked in the car a couple of times.

He was incredibly happy to be out of the car and walking on grass again. Before we knew it, the procedure had ended and we were back home.

We formally named him Balu. Balu the bear, after the Jungle Book character.

The first year, he enjoyed our large backyard with its many large trees, abandoned garden, and lots of wild life!

He chased Moose incessantly, nipping at his heels and his balls! 

He had a little growl and high-pitched bark! Incredibly cute and not very scary! He had a white mark on his chest that resembled a caveman drawing of a hunter with a spear.

In the backyard, he would dig holes, chase his brother, chase squirrels, and once got a rabbit - I only found out when I went back there to check on him and he had a little rabbit foot in his mouth!

We would take him and Moose to the local lake and go on walks. Moose loved to hop in a small tributary and swim around. I would keep Balu leashed most of the time. As he got a little bigger I would let him off his leash to see how he would respond to Moose swimming. He would normally approach the waters edge and look nervous and anxious, as if he were concerned for his brother.

One day, I'll never forget, Moose was doing his usual swim, and Balu this time cautiously entered the water. He went under a couple of times but only for a second before popping up to the surface and paddling his little front paws. From the moment forward, he loved the water. I have never seen a dog love the water as he did.

We would take daily walks to the lake and swim, walk, throw the ball at the main beach, visit "secret beach" and wade out into the water with them both, play in the backyard where he developed an obsession with balls!

During the warm summer months, we would huddle around the little air conditioner we had. And during winter, would cuddle on the couch by the fire.

He loved playing in the snow.

Balu never did enjoy a lot of socializing with other people or animals. He was pretty happy and satisfied with his immediate family, balls, and swimming.

I have to stop for a minute here because it is overwhelming writing this and talking about him. I miss him more than anything in this world. He was everything to me and all I had.

My family is distant and we rarely speak, and they are a thousand miles away. I see them at most once a year, they call once every two months at most and do not text me and so, Balu quickly became my best friend.

It's difficult to wrap my head around the fact he's no longer here. I still cry, have major breakdowns, get hit with waves of depression, and often think of taking my life.

I feel alone. Completely and utterly alone. Family is more or less non-existent, I have no friends, my girlfriend is wonderful but it's not the same as the connection I had with Balu.

First, God took my best friend Mark. Then He came for Caleb. Then, He took Balu. I fear I have nothing left to give or to look forward to. No support system. 

Yes, I am seeing a therapist and it has helped, but it is not enough. 

I miss him. I miss playing ball, going for walks, runs, trips to the dog park, trips to the pool, sleeping at night together, the way his belly felt when scratching him, the way his paws smelled, how wet his nose was, the sound of his bark, he snoring at night, his mean growl, the look in his eyes when he looked at me. 

I would pace the backyard begging, pleading with God to take me, hurt me, do anything and everything he wanted to if it meant saving him. I pled with any god that was out there. I would go through a thousand deaths if it meant saving him.

Life doesn't make sense. If there's a God or gods, why? Why take him? Why cause him pain for half of his life? 

I'm still angry and will always be angry. 

As much as I think I am getting better I know I am not. The slope is getting steeper, the darkness turns to light - that saying, I find ironic. It is not saying that life will get better, it means that life is ending and all the pain and tragedies of this world are slipping away - peace is closer.

Caleb

 I miss you. Things are not nor will ever normal again, whatever that is. The more I think about it, the more I realize that perhaps my time with you, our time together, the time you had on this world was by definition, not normal. Perhaps that was a dream, a fantasy, a magical time where anything and everything seemed possible. 

The world was fuzzy, colorful, happy, and wonderful. Letters floated off paper, love was oceans deep, hearts moved to a different beat. We had twinkles in our eyes and feet floated above the ground so heavy. We could fly, and feel, believe and make dreams real. Nothing was impossible, everything was possible. Words meant something and your presence was uplifting.

I'm trying not to cry as write this but it's hard. Hard to remember better days, hard to remember the peace, love, and joy of those days. I never felt alone. States between us, thousands of miles of clouds and open sky above us, I never felt alone. I felt you with me. I felt your love envelope me.

The most pure, wholesome, and unadulterated love that could only come from a place that doesn't really exist here. Were bodies, sticks and stones floating through a mass as weightless as life was.

At practice I thought of you, in the classroom I imagined you - I heard your voice on my wedding day. I saw your face my first day of college - I'll never forget those first weeks away from you. I cried, not knowing. Only to return and find I really didn't know. Our friendship had paused, but yours with others had not. I felt alone again, almost betrayed. I didn't recognize you, I thought I know you by the thoughts I had of you, but I was too distracted with my own contemplations to see through it all and see you.

I felt sadness and remorse, anger and jealousy. What you did, unknowingly or not, cut deeper than anything or anyone ever had. 

Falling

 I don't know how much longer I can continue living.

How do people do it? I feel so alone and separate from society. It's like I am witnessing them living part of their best lives while I am constantly tired, struggling, and frustrated.

My friends are gone and I miss them and love them with all my heart and no matter how hard I try, I cannot make new friends. It's like a wall has gone up between me and society/people. A wall I just can't overcome. 

I am jealous and sad seeing others so happy. Friends together in groups at breweries, playing golf, or enjoying a bbq together. I watch from this window and remember what that was like, how it felt to be surrounded by a group of people who love you and you love back. Enjoying the moment together, comfortable, happy, and so thankful to have the love of each and every one of them in your life. It helps to propel you forward, to refresh after a long week and begin a new week. The jokes, conversations, experiences, all help to heal wounds and strengthen your bones. 

How else do you get through a work week? No amount of solitary confinement will to prepare you for another week - and, after so many weeks, you feel exhausted, burnt out, and wanting to collapse.

That's how I feel. I want someone to wrap me in their arms and tell me everything is going to be OK. Tell me "you got this", "I have your back", "I believe in you". Those words of affirmation, that physical touch, goes further than any self pep talk or YouTube video can take me.

I haven't seen my family in three years. I don't bother going home to see them because they're busy with their own lives and I only see them briefly during dinner.

Friends that are still alive have all left my hometown and are scattered across the globe. None of us talk much. 

I am  miserable, tired, want to just quit life.

My beloved dog, my pupper, my best friend, my little buddy who turns four this July isn't doing well. He has inflammation and likely a tumor in his sciatic nerve. It is has almost completely paralyzed his right hind leg. His muscle has deteriorated. 

I've taken him to multiple vets and specialists, had a plethora of scans and have tried different medications and nothing works. The only positive results we had was with the steroids. Doctor said it wouldn't last and he would continue to decline.

He is a border collie/lab mix. All of his life he would run, want to play, chase balls, and wrestle with his golden brother. He still wants and enjoys those things but it breaks my heart seeing him struggle, limping towards a ball.

I took him for a walk at his favorite park yesterday. He immediately jumped out of the car and ran towards the lake and went swam. I chased after him not knowing how he would do in the water, but he did fine. Played with his brother, fetched sticks, he looked a lot like his old self. I loved it.

However, after 20 minutes of swimming and running he was exhausted and limping. I didn't want to over do it so we went back to the car, slowly. Had to stop a few times so he could rest. I went to pick him up and carry him but he growled as if to tell me that he could make it on his own power.

I cannot bear the thought of losing him so soon.   

Past

 The past is gone but it lives with me forever.

The places I travelled, people I travelled with, and the emotions I experienced during the trip.

Caleb always looked up to Vin Diesel and saw himself as something like a small version of him. Strong, masculine, and commandeering respect. We had countless conversations about him and he was a big part of the reason Caleb worked out in the gym the way he did.

I always saw myself more like Paul Walker. Free spirit, care free, loose, happy, and all good vibes.

In the end, we switched roles. I ended up like Vin Diesel, and Caleb, very much a Paul Walker.

Funny how much and how unpredictably we change throughout our lives.

The person we thought we'd be - hoped to be and worked towards being, doesn't always manifest himself in our spirit. A different person emerges; the complex product of the sum of our experiences, hopes, dreams, and desires. 

Sometimes, that person is broken, lost, and confused. Forever searching for peace and happiness; love and joy, never to find any of it.

Why must I feel so broke? I have nothing. I want nothing. I desire nothing. My soul is broke and scattered across the dust of the earth - the result of losing my two best friends.

I wish I had told you both how much I loved you, how important you were to everyone - your families, friends, and the community as a whole. I wish I hugged you both tighter. I wish I went to the movies with you that one time in high school Mark. Instead, I stayed home and played video games. 

I wish I went snowboarding with you over Christmas Caleb. Instead, I stayed home and read a book.

Experiences like those forever haunt me. I am filled with remorse and regret. I've tried to pick myself up again, and again. I always do. I always do. Only to fall harder the next time. 

Life has gotten the better of me I'm afraid. A few dozen victories on the battlefield amongst hundreds is far too few. I'm tired, beat up, worn out, and I've nothing left. 

Never got to see you grow old or get married. Never got to see you play with your kids at the beach.

All the things you missed out on - all the things I missed. Love, joy, sorrow, sadness. 

These memories are made before my eyes but they are but fiction - images placed in my mind like a storybook that doesn't exist. The pages write themselves rather than you as the author.

Love saves but it doesn't save me.  

State of the American Republic. Democracy. Stuff.

 Yesterday, Wednesday January the sixth, is a day that will forever live in some kind of infamy. Thousands of rioters and terrorists descended on our capital in a coup-attempt to overthrow democracy and thwart the results of a free and fair democratically-held election. Their intent was to keep a dictator in power.

Let's be clear. I am referring to the Republican party and Trump.
To everyone in the Republican party; starting with Trump and his cabinet. McConnell and all of the senators that supported him and continued to until their own was invaded. This includes Jim Jordan. Steve Daines. Ron Johnson. Marco Rubio. Everyone. The congressman and women, the representatives, and the citizens of this country that supported and continue to support the Republican party.

Every single of one them - nearly half the country - is a traitor. They're wicked and evil. They're traitors to everything good and right. They are without principal. Barbarians. They represent the ideals of a fanatical and radical ideology that our ancestors fled from and our forefathers fought against. They're not patriots. They're not heroes. They're uneducated and undereducated. Ignorant. Children. Weak. Seditious. Vile. Repulsive. They're are without any moral compass or good desire. 

To the ones who have openly committed both federal and state crimes: they deserve punishment. They should be locked away for years. This includes the high ranking cabinet members, senators, congressman and women, representatives, and everyone and anyone else. 

Charge them. Prosecute them. Lock them up and throw away the key.

And pursue the police and officials who stood-by and watched it happen. They failed in their duties. They ignored their oaths. They're part of the coup attempt and should be locked away.

Now that I have vented - let's discuss.

First - it's important we address the Democratic party - of which I am a member.
The Democratic party is weak, confused, and a mess. It is lead by old-timer Dems like Schumer and Pelosi. These are folks over 65 years old, who placed in power the president-elect, Joe Biden - who is also over 65 years old.
And this is a problem. Anyone and everyone over 65 years of age is simply out-of-touch with the heartbeat of the country. They do not understand the norms, the young people, the needs, the wants, and the dreams and desires of the day simply because it has been so long since they were an embedded part of society. I don't mean any disrespect to them here, my own parents are in their sixties, but after so many years you simply lose touch with most folks. I am in my thirties now and still don't understand TicToc, Instagram, and a lot of things that are popular with the youth and younger generation. 

We need young blood in the Democratic party. Leaders and politicians who have fire, desire, who are determined to make a difference, and who do not simply fall in line with the file and rank of the party. One member who represents this well is Alexandria O'Casio-Cortez.
She is a wonderful example of the difference between the legacy Dems and the new, fresh Dems that represent both my generation and every other generation. And I am certainly not the only one who feels this way. She speaks with pose, grace, and enthusiasm - which, is incredibly important in politics. Being assertive and enthusiastic about the issues says a lot about a politician believe it or not. Their voting record and effectiveness obviously matters as well but it goes hand in hand with their speech. Trump is the textbook definition of voice over everything else. His followers worship him as a god - not because he's intelligent, courageous, or a good leader, but because he uses language they understand and he doesn't sound pretentious.

The Dems are a legacy party - old, stale, slow-moving, unable to adapt to changing times, and incredibly weak. 
Listen to Schumer or Pelosi speak. They consistently speak of unity and "reach across the aisle" and "bipartisanship". - I'm sorry, but when was the last time the Republican party made any sort of realistic attempt at unity and compromise? Here is one of the biggest issues that the Dems refuse to address: change, adaptation. The Republican party today is not the Republican party of the 1980's or 1990's - the decades in which many of the Dem leadership either entered or rose to power. The Republican party isn't even the same party it was five years ago! The Democratic party meanwhile hasn't changed at all. They play by the same rules they did thirty, forty years ago.

They're scared to liberal ideology. Scared to push their own agendas because of fear the Right may not agree with them. They're passive and weak. Constantly attempting to work with Republicans and appease them. Meanwhile, the Republican wants nothing to do with the Dems. They don't want to compromise. They don't want to to work together. They want things their way. They have a vision of a dictatorship and riches and dreams for their political leaders. They don't care about the people - their constituents. They're selfish, wicked, and evil. The very antithesis of all that is good and righteous in the world.

Dems don't understand that - mostly due to their advanced age.

Look at Joe Biden. He was one of the worst Democratic candidates of the entire lot. He's old, out of touch with reality, slow, ineffective, and weak. He's not even in office yet and he's already discussing bipartisanship, and working with the Republicans.
- What the hell? We now own the House, the Senate, and the Presidency. Why the hell do we need to work with Republicans on anything? I say this not just out of anger and frustration, but logically why do we? They refused to work with us for the last twelve years. They attempted to overthrow our democracy. They refused to help us when we were (and still are) dying of a virus they refused (and some still refuse) to acknowledge existed. Even after they acknowledged the virus was a real-thing they still refused to supply or support mask-mandates, bar closures, crowd control measures, and worst of all, they refused to supply PPE to our doctors, nurses, and front-line medical workers. They refused (and still do) to provide temporary financial relief to us. The Dems supported $2,000 checks for every citizen. The republicans shot this down multiple times claiming it's socialism and that the government cannot afford it. At the same time they're providing record amounts of financial assistance to farmers because the very tariffs they enacted didn't work the way they thought they would. It turns out - tariffs actually hurt both consumers and producers of the nation enacting the tariffs. Who would have guessed? They also just passed a record setting military and budget funding bill - the budget actually has relief for corporations in the form of tax breaks, COVID revenue offsetting, and even "three-martini lunches". The people got absolutely nothing from it. Go ahead and look for yourself. There is nothing in the bill for us.

After all this - Dems still want to work with Republicans?
It's astounding. This goes to show how out-of-touch the Democratic party. First for not adapting to change during the Obama era and allowing Trump to rise to power (Hillary Clinton was one of, if not the worst candidate for the job), and now they have done it again by empowering Biden and attempting to work with Republicans. It's insane. How can you be this dull, dumb, and out of touch with literally everything in the country?

We need strength and we need it now - don't work with Republicans. Forge our way regardless of whether or not Republicans agree. Expand socialist programs like Medicare for all, stimulus checks, tax breaks for the middle and lower classes, decrease military funding, increase taxes on the wealthy and rich, tax corporations, and for the love of God prosecute and actually pursue these Republicans for their crimes.

My biggest fear is that Biden will sweep all of this under the rug and try to "reset" the country and beg for unity. For Godsake that is not what we need. We need prosecute all of these Republicans. We need to reform the justice system and law-enforcement. Racism and general stupidity abound within law enforcement. Require four year degrees for law enforcement. Remove qualified immunity. Prosecute the cops that don't do their job - they should be held to a higher standard than the average citizen.

I give the Biden administration one term unless they can actually and effectively enact change. The only reason the Dems have the power they have now is due to how terrible the Republican party. It says more about the Republicans than it does the Democrats. Literally - Biden won the office of the presidency not because of his intelligence, poise, morals, old-timer story-telling, or his incredible oratory skills - no, he won because the candidate he was going against just happened to be so terribly and hated that barely more than half of the country actually united against him. It's incredible sad. He didn't win on his own merit - rather, he won due to the lack of his opponents merit. had the Republicans had a better candidate, namely, anyone other than Trump, they would have destroyed the Dems. Corey Booker, Elizabeth Warren, Pete Buttigieg, Bernie Sanders, any of them would have been a better fit for the office of the presidency. 

We find ourselves in tumultuous times with no shining light at the end of the tunnel yet - even though we control the sphere of politics in the country right now - we still don't control the government.

There is an unwinding justice system stemming from the DOJ down to the courts and law enforcement to which the Dems have yet to present a plan explaining how they will address those issues.

There is no excuse for the Dems now. We should see radical change in this country within six-months. If not, then everything I am discussing here will remain true and an accurate representation of the Democratic party. They literally have nothing and no one in their way now. If they cannot change to a similar, if not greater degree and with more speed than the Republican party did under Trump, than they ought to just pack their bags and go home.

Caleb

Five years to the day. And I am worse than ever.

I see no light. I want no light. I want no one. I want nothing. I want to leave here. This is hell. 

Every sunrise is a tragedy becoming and each sunset a tale of regrets to forget forever. Each day grows darker and the nights longer. 

My mind is completely lost. I am tired. 

How to Learn

The title sounds dumb, I know. "How to learn". Maybe a lot of folks will see that and wonder what I am talking about, and take a nefarious viewpoint towards it. But I am dead serious.

What does it mean to learn and why am I saying this?

Learning is really, really difficult. I'll share my experience before diving further into it so if you want to skip this part feel free.

I was homeschooled my entire life until I went to college at 18. I come from a large, conservative family. My mother was the teacher, my father was out building homes and apartments. He was self-employed. My mother simply didn't have time to teach me due to her responsibilities for my other siblings and helping my father with their business. They made the decision to make me work and play sports, and school became something of an option to do; it was less of a priority than work and sports. They made this decision for me and my older brother. My sisters' focus was still on education.

As a result; my brother and I learned a lot outside the classroom. We developed a strong work-ethic and we were skilled and good at what we did both on the construction-sites and in sports.

This came at a huge cost, one I would pay-for later when I first got to college.

Freshman year for me began fall of 2006. I had a difficult childhood from a less-than-interested mother and father. So I was alone having to navigate this world by myself. Very stressful!

I quickly learned that I had a lot to learn. That I was behind everyone else. My best friend never studied freshman year for calculus, physics, or chemistry. Most folks in my classes were above-average intelligence. They grasped concepts quickly. My friends rarely studied. It was like this all came natural to them. I got one F in one class, followed by a D in another, followed by more poor grades in most of my classes. My work ethic kicked in and I made the decision that I would forgo dating, girls, parties, friends, gym, sports, video games, everything that meant anything to me I would bail on so I could focus on school. I got up every morning at 7:00 AM. I studied, went to class, studied between classes, after classes. I studied every minute of the day.

I would go to the Student Union building and study until 1:00 - 2:00 AM. The security guard would close the building at midnight and trusted me not to cause any harm, so I was always the last one out of the building. I did this everyday for an entire year of school, then I repeated it for another year after that.

I fell into depression. Major depression. I wanted to die. End my life. I couldn't see a reason to go on. My grades were barely improving and I couldn't figure it out. What was I doing wrong? I was literally studying more than every other person at that school. And I was still failing.

I hated myself. I thought I was the problem. I blamed myself. I hurt myself. I thought I was dumb. I thought I'd never amount to anything. I'll never forget; one day I went home to see my folks for the first time in months. I was in my bedroom and my father came in and told me he was not proud of me. He was ashamed. He told me to give up and do something else. He wasn't going to support me at all. I was broken. Absolutely broken. No one wants anyone to say that to them, least of all their father.

I finished one more semester before taking a year off to work back in my parents' town. I was still depressed, miserable, and confused. But college did one amazing thing. It lit a huge spark in me. A spark of curiosity that caused me to question everything in life. I wanted to know more about everything. I started spending my nights Googling. Buying books, magazines, and watching documentaries. I devoured every bit of knowledge I could.

That spark continues to this day.

I guess my point is that, it is really difficult to learn and to learn how to learn. It wasn't until my third year of college that I began to understand things. Things started to click and I wasn't doing so bad. Year after, little by little I picked myself up and built a foundation of knowledge that I was able to leverage and build upon further.

I know it is not this difficult for everyone; this was just my experience.

To add to my point: there is a plethora of folks in this country, half the folks in the United States don't seem to understand what it means to learn or how to learn effectively. I like to think I that I've out together a solid toolkit for learning over the years whereas most folks seem to stop learning or stop applying their knowledge of how to learn after a certain point. Those folks are the Republicans. The ones who are protesting mandates set-forth by state governments with recommendations coming from the CDC, hospitals, scientists, and folks who know a thing or two about COVID-19. The Republicans are so far behind the rest of us, so far removed from intelligence and self-awareness that they cannot see the irony behind protesting at a state capital with a mask on while holding a sign demanding states reopen for business as usual!

Absolutely insane!

I believe many of these folks are simply under-educated. The rest are willfully ignorant.

These are the folks who perhaps were left-behind, not stimulated, not pushed or not given the opportunity to learn all they wanted or all they could. It is the fault of themselves, their parents, and perhaps the state.

Loss

It never goes away. It doesn't really fade either. I still think about you everyday. It's not even a conscious decision, you're just there, here, everywhere. Your smile, your jokes, your love, your laugh, your smell, your strength, your mannerisms and how you would react to my stories and jokes. 

It's like living in an alternate reality. I see where our memories would have been made. I see the alternate reality and want that more than anything in life. I'd give up everything and anything just to see you once more. Just to hear your voice, you saying "hey" is all I need. 

This doesn't get easier, things do not get better. Memory fades but does is not erased. I know what lies ahead and don't want to face it. I'm a coward. Scared. I was always the worrier. You took risks, you lived life. 

I wanted to see you fall in love and marry. Have kids. We would attend church together. Work on our cars, build our homes, see Man U play Barca. We were never meant to be apart like this. 

I'm still crushed. Beyond crushed I am defeated. I've lost my will. Lost my hope. Lost everything. 

You saved me from my father. You helped me with my father. You showed me a world I would have missed. And now I miss it more than ever.

You and Mark are gone. Gone. Gone. Gone forever. It doesn't make sense. Why am I still here? Why are you both gone? For what purpose? For what reason? Why am I left here alone?

I don't want friends. I don't want anyone else in my life. I feel like I'm losing my mind. Everything I loved. Cared for. Hoped. Wished for. Its gone. You're both gone. 

I just don't understand. I saw you both. Blue faced. Tired. Gone. Soulless. Nothing but the hollow bodies. I had to watch your families mourn. Late nights of stories. Beer. Song. And so many wondering "why?" 

Why are you gone? Why has this happened? I would sacrifice, would give myself up a hundred times than have had this ever happen. 

Everything is dark. Its grey. Its overcast. I don't feel anything. I don't want anything. Just tell me why this happened? 

Why am I here? For what reason am I still here? Everyday is a nightmare. Its pain. Agony. Its feeling defeated before I even land on my feet. This is defeat. This is loss. This is losing. This is what it's like to suffer. My heart is too tired. Why have I not given up yet?

I have nothing. I am nothing. I want nothing. As Teddy said, "the light has gone out of my life". All light is gone. It is dark and I don't care to see which way I go. 

I am coward. Weak. So weak. Spiritually. Mentally. Physically. 

I see memories everyday. I make new ones. I miss the old ones.  No one understands. No one relates. 

Life With Loss

Life without my best friend has been tremendously difficult. It has been exactly 11 months since I last saw him. I cannot help but think of him everyday and even into the night where I dream about him. Nearly every night we are on another adventure together; sometimes we are cowboys on horseback, other times we are soccer. Still yet, there are many dreams where I see him and I break down crying telling him that he shouldn't be there and that I know he is gone, where I acknowledge him and do everything I can to grab and hold him. I loved him so much, he was so dear to me.

I now know what it's like to have a piece of your heart hollowed out. There is a part of me that is forever gone, lost to a ripple of time. Part of me will never know the peace and love that I once knew. I will never fully understand why he died or why any of it had to happen.

I have now been older than him for 10 months; 10 months I have outlived him and wish I never had. 10 months of pain, agony, and sorrow, only for another X amount of months to look forward to. I am broken, shattered, beaten, and poor.

My only reason and my only hope for returning home was because of him. My wife has wanted to move back home ever since we met and I had planned on it until his passing. Home is not home anymore. Back home, I see him everywhere. On the street where we once rode our bikes, at the parks where we once played soccer, in the fields where we would go shooting, along the train tracks where we rode our motorcycles, across the river where every summer we set about in kayaks and traveled up and down and around all the little islands, at stores, restaurants, the movies, malls, bars, everywhere. There is not a single place in town we did not venture whether on our bikes or in our cars. Across the entire state of Montana he left his mark. I cannot go anywhere in Montana without seeing him. Even here in Washington I see him when he came to visit me April of last year. He sat on my couch, right next to where I am sitting now.

For what reason do we have to live? I cannot fathom living a long life without him. Our plans together extended towards the very ends of the universe, a place that I now know we will not reach together. I mourn the times we could have had but never will. I wanted him to meet my future children and I his. He never got to marry or have kids. He never had the kind of lasting and loving relationship that I have always taken for granted.

My best man that never was. I still keep our last conversations we had over text. It began with me telling him where to go to get his tuxedo in town. He went and was fitted during the last week of June, two weeks later he was gone and I was at the very shop getting my tux fitted and having to explain to the ladies there that he would no longer be needing his suit.

A single candle, set atop a podium represented his presence at my wedding, along with bows we had tied to each pew in the church.

What to do? I cannot find any reason to rejoice or love life. It is pain and sorrow that never ceases. Who is next to go?

The last four years of my life have been awful. I lost all my grandparents, half to horrific accidents. Besides losing my very best friend Caleb last year, I lost my only other best friend, Mark back in 2012. I cannot lose anyone else, it has to stop at some point right?

He was the kindest, most sincere and genuine person I've ever known. His time was never his, it was everyone else's. He was always helping people including me. I remember back two years ago I had returned home for Christmas to be with my family, it was 11:30 PM and we had an intense blizzard outside. I had decided to go snow-shovel my families commercial properties because I knew the snow would freeze over night making it more difficult in the morning. Well, up until 11:30 I was at Chiles with my friends including Caleb. Everyone had planned to go watch a movie at another friends house so as we were leaving Caleb comes over and tells me that he wants to help, I refuse his help and tell him that he should go watch the movie because everyone was expecting him to, but instead he comes with me and from 11:30 until 2:30AM we shoveled snow.

The same story can be found with a hundred other people that Caleb had helped. Neighbors, friends, family, even strangers. I'll never forget how, after my father suffered two strokes, Caleb was the first one to call, first to offer to help, and first to actually help. He helped me manage my fathers properties, helped take care of things, and was always just there to help.

Throughout the last 16 years of my life, Caleb was always there. We went swimming together everyday, watched Seinfeld and Jeopardy, Chris Farley movies and played video games like Call of Duty, Red Faction, and Super Smash Brothers. We played soccer, basketball, golf, and played catch and frisbee every summer. We wrestled, joked, told stories, and competed with one another. He pushed me to new heights and I always strived to be a better man because of him. I cannot possibly put into words the full weight of his power and how he influenced me and changed the course of my life. So much love.

In high-school sports we were given nicknames, mine was Wuv because I was popular with the girls and he was Sunny, because he was cool and calm, and some people said it was given him because of his positivity, others said it was because he reminded them of the singer from the band P.O.D.

Sometimes we called him K-Bob, or K-Bobby. He never liked it.

I miss his jokes, his sense of humor, and all the accents he could do so flawlessly. Switching between British and Australian, he would make everyone laugh beyond reason.

He had such immense strength, you know, the kind of strength and courage that scares you. No matter how high the building, the mountain, or the cliff, he would climb it and then leap off so long as there was a body of water beneath him.

After he tried beer he really took to it. Within a couple years of first trying beer, he was brewing his own in his little apartment. Once, his brew went bad and exploded sending foam and yeast towards every square inch of his apartment.

There are only a single handful of times where his mood was not usual. I can only recall once or maybe twice where he was actually very sad and both involved a girl. I can only recall a few times when he was genuinely angry, and all of those times occurred during soccer matches.

Never was there a moment where he spoke bad about someone or to someone. Never was a moment where he backed away from doing something out of fear. I saw him stand on a 2x4 over 50 feet in the air with absolutely nothing to break his fall in any direction for more than 20 feet. I was terrified he would fall!

He gave me reason, purpose, and drive. Without him I have lost all three. I have no idea what I'm doing career-wise anymore. Nor do I have much of a drive. I don't know why I'm here or what I can do to give myself purpose. I miss him so much and wish that I had died not him, because there are more people in this world that need him than need me.

During the summers his hair would turn blonde and he would look like a California surfer. Blue eyes, strong build, slicked back hair. He was cool.

Above everything, he was my dearest and most beloved friend. I thought we were intwined into eachothers lives for all of time; that we would grow old together and have families and live next to one another. We had planned to build our homes together, to work together, go to church together, host bible groups together, teach sports together, and to always be together. My heart is just broken broken broken.

I don't deserve to be here unless it is seen as punishment. I have done nothing with my life, I have achieved nothing! He touched so many lives and had such a great impact on so many people that it would be impossible to quantitatively figure his life. I am selfish, mean, and full of problems. The world has plenty of me, the world needs more of him. I would die a hundred deaths if it meant having him back and getting to see him.

I miss you Caleb, I miss you man so much! I hope I get to see you again. Life is miserable without you. We shared the same name, friends, hobbies, sports, and taste in girls. We liked the same movies, actors, music, and food. People thought we were brothers, then they thought we were gay, then they just weren't sure. We dressed the same, looked the same, and acted the same. You have broken my heart, you have broken me. How could you leave me like this? Why?! It doesn't make sense. We all have a part to play so how can yours be so short? 27 years. One month separated us. 3 miles stood between us but it might as well have been five feet. I miss you, love you, and will always love you with all my heart. Tell Mark I miss him, I love him, and I hope to see you both one day soon. My life has been shattered by you both and will only heal and get put back together when I get to see you both again.

Life as Viewed by a Riddler

There are two ways to view the world: qualitative and quantitative. They are the difference between taking the scenic route to a destination versus taking the quickest route.

The qualitative view represents our feelings and emotions. When I have conversations with my father I always hear the feeling and power in his voice, I watch his demeanor and I sort of feel his presence.

The quantitative view represents our rationality and logic. Instead of feeling the persons voice and hearing their emotion, you're listening intently to what they're saying, regardless of the feelings present in their voice.

It is perfectly reasonably and common for most people to view the world through both lenses; using both logic and some degree of rationality entwined with emotion. It is human nature to unconsciously involve emotion with every aspect of our lives. It's in our genes.

Now I want to discuss the difference between those we perceive as "winners" and those we see as "losers" in society, and why these two types of people are different.

I believe that there are many cultural factors that help to determine whether or not a person will be a "winner" or "loser". From this point on we will equate the term "winner" with financial wealth, career success, and social likability. Some of the greatest examples of these traits would be folks like Elon Musk, Bill Gates, Oprah Winfrey, Taylor Swift, Kobe Bryant, Christian Bale, and Serena Williams. Each of these individuals have more in common with each of us normal folks than differences however, there is a greater difference in our differences. I don't mean they have more qualities or traits that are different from the rest of us, rather, the differences between us are actually very big and dramatic. Contrast this to the rest of us and our differences are generally not very big at all.

So what are some of these differences?
Mostly, they are personality traits, and character differences. They are mostly genetic, pre-determined, and uncontrollable. But many of their traits are learned and cultural. As children, we observe our surroundings and how others interact with those surroundings. Based upon our observations of others' interactions, we adapt those traits for ourselves and integrate them into our personality. We all do this; it is human, it is ingrained within us.

Here is where the "winners" divert in their path from the "losers":
 1) Decisions. They (the "winners") make different decisions than we do starting as children. For example, they might view the same interaction in the same situation in the same environment we do, but they might gather more information from the scenario and apply it differently in their lives. They will make different decisions with regard to their health, wealth, and future as forward thinking individuals.

2) Initiative. They observe character traits of "winners" from an early age and adopt those traits to their own personality and livelihood. From there they are like a runaway train, gobbling up as much information from "winners" as they can and applying it to their existing bank of "winning" knowledge. They see the traits of "losers" quickly and learn to identify those traits at an early age and how to avoid them after they have attached the "loser" brand to the actions.

The interesting thing is that they do all of this innately, sub-consciously, and without much thought. But as they grow older they will adapt greater amounts of traits from those around them, so culture can either help accelerate their growth or it can significantly distract them from their goals.

We could also refer to these groups as "wolves" and "sheep". Wolves devour, conquer, and succeed, but not all the time. Sheep just follow the rest of the sheep and mostly lose or succeed in minor ways.

Death do us part.

Death is interesting. I recently lost my best friend of 15 years to a tragic and sudden death. One that was laden with a series of unfortunate events and very peculiar timing, which is partly why I am writing this now. The other reason I am writing this now is because I simply want to and have been grieving over him since his accident on July 6th. I will never be the same man I was on July 5th. That old man is gone, forever and irrevocably changed.

This is about my dear friend Caleb.

I first met Caleb in summer of 2000 at a park where we were both practicing with the homeschool soccer team. I actually met him in 1999 but didn't realize it. We were both trying out for the team on a bloody hot summer day and at the time, soccer was not a big interest of mine so after that practice I never went back. I was busy with hockey, wrestling, baseball, and other sports. He stayed and played.

We played on that same team together until 2006. Winning the state championship together and leading our team as co-captains from 2003-2006. He was an incredibly talented soccer player and was easily leagues beyond all of us.

One year, I think it was 2001, I was watching him play a soccer match with a local city club. Because of his birth-date, the league would not allow him to play with kids his age so he was forced to play with younger kids who were no where near as skilled as he was. I watched him repeatedly launch the ball from half-field into the back of the other teams net. It was a very fair game.

There is so much I could write about, I mean it was 15 years! We were best friend for all 15 of those years!

But alas, I can't sit and write for that long so I think I will write when I feel like it.

He was my closest, dearest, most beloved friend. I sometimes feel cheated as if he was taken from me unfairly, like he deserved to continue life on this earth. But thinking about it in light of my Christian faith, I feel that he was truly blessed to leave this earth. I cannot know what God's thinking was surrounding Caleb's death, other than He was possibly thinking that Caleb was too good for this earth and that He had sent him here for a specific purpose and that purpose Caleb fulfilled. Like Elijah, Caleb was snatched from this earth and though he died (unlike Elijah), it was quick and I think without much, if any pain. He went on his terms and that's how he would have liked to go.

I shared many of my greatest joys and sorrows with him. In December, 2012, we lost our mutual best friend Mark and saw him put to rest. Throughout his death, Caleb was by my side and I by his. Upon Mark being lowered into the earth, I touch his coffin and lay hands on Caleb, and his on mine. Seeing one of your child-hood friends being lowered into the dirt, never to be seen again is more difficult and soul-wrenching than nearly anything imaginable. It is truly and remarkably devastating, gut-turning, and most miserable of all experience. I felt all joy and strength sapped from body and from my life. Caleb helped me through our friends death. We watched videos, looked at old pictures, and we grieved for our beloved friend Mark as only best friends can grieve. I never would have made it through with some sanity in-tact had it not been for my dear friend Caleb.

He was an angel, among the most perfect of men. None of us, us being his friends, caught him in a lie. He never cheated, and in held such disdain for cheating that if accused, he would go out of his way to do the opposite. He was incredibly self-less, devoting every free minute to helping members of his church, his friends, his family, and even strangers. Building fences, houses, landscaping, house-sitting, errands, fixing cars, he helped everyone and almost all of it was self-taught. He never took anything too seriously, but seriously took it all as seriously as was necessary. He loved to laugh, to tell jokes, and found humor in everything. He was cool, talented, good-looking, and was the perfect embodiment of what it means to be a man. He treated all people equally, and never hurt anyone. People who tried to find a reason not to like him could not help but love him because of how personable he was. He had such zeal for life that he would never make an enemy.

I still haven't fully digested it and I don't know if I ever will, but I loved him every second that I knew him and I feel so blessed to have known him and to be able to call him my best friend. I am forever changed again, just like I changed after the passing of Mark, this time the change is more profound. I don't know what is to happen in my future but I know that I will carry the memory of my dear friends with me forever, and take the lessons I learned from them with me always.

My heart mourns, my soul feels torn, torn into shreds and taters of love and servant-hood that only Christ can mend. I hope and pray that I might see them again soon and be reunited with them in heaven.

Caleb, I miss you so much and I selfishly wish you were still here so we could have done our usual summer thing: kayaking and fishing the Missouri. Talking theology, the Bible, girls, and what lies ahead. I miss your jokes, your humor, your love, and your strength. You helped shape me into the man I am today. I wish I could be as strong as you were, as loving as you were, and as great a man as you were but I cannot seem to find it in me. I fall short, I am weak, I am not you.

I miss playing soccer with you, and basketball, playing frisbee with together with Kenny, and playing catch at the park. I miss riding motorcycles together, going to the mall for hours and not finding anything to buy, and counting positives and negatives.

I miss biking around the city with you, playing video-games with you, and swimming at our usual spot along the Dearborn. Climbing buildings at night, drinking beer at the local watering holes, and losing to you at pool.

I miss your goofy texts, your Christmas sweaters, and your James Bond underwear. You wore it proudly. I miss you when you were angry, and when you were sad. Especially when you were happy. I miss how calm you were, and how in the face of utter defeat you would never admit defeat.

You were easily the most loved friend I have ever had, not just by me, but by everyone who you came into contact with. From Ireland to South America; Hawaii to New York. Your presence was profound and intimate.

My heart mourns and I still cry like a baby, I don't know how or when I will stop and I don't really care because you were my best friend and that's what some of us do. I learned so much from you and try to emulate some of your character any chance I get. My soul cries for you; my heart bleeds. I love you so much.

Art for the day

RiddlerThis here with our new "Art for the day"! 



This comes from an artist known as Jakub Rozalski.  It's sort of a cyberpunk/mech mix and way too cool to not show anyone!

You can find more of his work here!

Offer of Services

I am starting a new path of financial independence and goal-driven purpose through the development of a new business centered around data organization and analytics.

The website is in its early development stages but basically I am going to teach and assist business, working professionals, and folks who need a hand in making sense of the data they have or want to obtain.

All data and information will be organized and analyzed through Microsoft Excel and R.

Sex and sexual attraction

I have never written about sex before but I am going to give it a shot here now because it is on my mind. Bear with me please!

I grew up a conservative Christian guy, I always had a girlfriend and always had girls chasing me, I enjoyed the attention and I enjoyed giving them attention in both dimensions of the word. However, when I first went to college I realized an eye-opening experience: women wanted sex as much as men wanted sex. I always affiliated sex with being dirty and sinful if done outside of the need for procreation. I was a virgin. 

I dated very beautiful women, and had no problem getting nearly any girl I wanted. No, I am not trying to be cocky or anything of that nature, rather, I am simply stating that I was a good looking guy and good looks go a long ways. The issue I had was how shy I was; once I got the girl it was difficult to keep her because I could be awkward. Well, eventually I figured out how to talk to women so the digits just kept flying my way but I could never keep a girl. One girl, after another, after another dumped me. It was happening ad nauseum! I called up my big sister one day and told her how frustrating it was being 18-19, and how I no woman wanted to stay with me. She asked "are you having sex?" I said "no, of course not! I'm still a virgin until marriage!" "well" she replied "that's why they're breaking up with you". I hadn't thought about that but then I began to put the pieces together and realized that every break would occur one or two days after I told a girl I was waiting until marriage to have sex.

One day I thought I would end that by having sex, I did it but I didn't enjoy it. I felt dirty and lower than I had ever felt because I gave into the one sin I had forbid myself from doing. After that, it was like the flood gates came down and I wanted as much of it as I could get (responsibly of course). This led to a series of volatile relationships, heart-break, and eventually it turned me into a bitter, jaded, and for a while, a very sexist man. I began dating multiple women at once, I'd go by and pick up one girl at 5:00 PM, bring her home by 8:00 PM, then swing over to another girls house and hang out with her until 1:00 or 2:00 AM. Sometimes I'd take out three girls in one day! I thought I was living every guys fantasy and truth be told I was, but in all of it I felt no satisfaction and eventually became so disgusted with myself that I completely stopped dating, and shut myself down. 

Anyway, that is a brief history. Now on to the current situation:

   I am on my seventh year of college (excluding two breaks totaling two years total), and am going on 27 years of age. My libido is pretty much gone, or I think. I still notice attractive women but my thoughts and expressions towards them is excruciatingly repressed, mostly because of the experiences I had in my past with women. Most of the women at my university are between the ages of 18-23, which I feel very conflicted over. Many of them are very beautiful, intelligent, and seem like they have great personalities, however a lot of them have interests far different from my own, and they talk a lot about "getting ratchet"... I think that means crazy? And drinking. I think maybe the drinking is implied in the term "ratchet"? Anyway, I feel like were on two different levels. But they also just look young, I mean really, very young to me. I feel attracted to their bodies and physique, but less attracted to their interests, how they live their lives, and to some extent... their faces. They just look too young. But this seems antithetical because everyone I have talked with ranging from the ages of 25-33, all love younger girls, specifically girls between the ages of 18-23. So, now I question whether or not I really am attracted to these women or not. Every guy I know except for 1, wants these women, the one and myself are more attracted to women older than ourselves (27+)... but I wonder if maybe I am jaded and bitter by my previous relationships with women of the 18-23 age range and that has perhaps created some sort of mental barrier for me, or if I am generally not attracted to them. Still, I wonder if I am attracted to them but I simply convince myself that I am not.

I believe sex is a great thing now, and I enjoy it mostly, but it completely messes me up. For the four days after I have intercourse, I experience sometimes devastating mood-swings where I feel incredibly sad and depressed, I also experience memory loss. Equations, theories, even what I last ate become terribly difficult things to remember. I've also noticed that I become physically weak, shaky, and develop dry skin, eyes, and lips.It's like the life is sucked out of me leaving me to dry, wither, and fade away. It's terrible.

So I wonder if I avoid younger women so as to avoid the entire subject of sex and how it affects me, or if I avoid them because I am bitter towards them as a result of my past. I also admit that talking to a younger woman through flirtation makes me feel kind of creepy because I feel so much older. But maybe I am thinking about it too much?

When I hear a couple having sex, or see an attractive girl who is dressed in exceedingly revealing clothes, I become turned on, but when the time comes to talk to a girl or "put out" I fail miserably, mostly because of my nerves, but also because I feel like a creepy guy.

Am I missing out on something?

Perhaps I fear intimacy and specifically sex because I am terrible at being physically intimate with people, as in opening-up to them and having that "vulnerable" kind of feeling, vulnerable where they completely see you and judge you.The nerves, the vulnerability, etc. Scary!

But then again, maybe I would be a better person, or perhaps a happier person if I was consistently having intimacy with someone. Of course, that would require me to feel vulnerable and to open myself up to a woman, but perhaps that is exactly what I need or maybe that is what secretly or deeply desire. Maybe then I would feel more complete or happier, or just more alive.

Maybe I need to open up more in general to people and spend less time thinking and more time doing?

My brother.

He's always been bigger than me, stronger than I could ever hope to be, and in all things he always seemed to figure it out before me. On more than one occasion he helped me in fights, helped me with homework, work stuff, he was always there for me.

When we were teenagers waking up at six in the morning to go out and build a house, I would moan and grumble, complain and grudge along. My brother was silent and steady, never did he complain, never was he hesitant to get out to work. Throughout the day he just kept on going like the energizer bunny and never quit. I've seen him break all the fingers in his hands and even then he managed to laugh it off, no tears, no complaints. I've seen him fall off a roof and get right back up and keep working. I've seen him go to school, go to work, and go to two different sports practices in the same day for years at a time with hardly anything more than a sigh.

We played games together, staying up late on school nights eating chips and salsa while playing Timesplitters, or SSB. He never treated me unfairly, nor did he ever treat me better than I thought I deserved, though sometimes at work he could see me falling behind and would come over just to help me finish my task before returning to his. I never stood much of a chance against him in anything; basketball he could out shoot me, soccer he could out run me, in hockey he was so much smarter than me, even when it came to women I never stood a chance; they always wanted him over me.

Together, we would take the 88' red Ford with bald tires and rust, a truck as old as me, and drive to practices, to work, or out to the store. Even though we were homeschooled the town knew of us, especially him. When I was six feet tall he was six foot four. When my foot was a size 10, his was a 15.

I've always been quick to anger, and slow to forgive; where as he has always been quick to forgive and slow to anger, so slow at times it's scary. All the times I got into fights with people and had to have my brother come help, the other guys withdrew. Every. Single. Time. When the biggest bully in the town came around to fight me, I had my brother simply stare him down. Not once did anyone challenge him, not because they didn't have a problem with him, but because of his size and what they knew of him.

When I couldn't figure out an angle at work or if I couldn't figure out something myself he could always figure it out, I never felt big next to him as hard as I try.

Where have you gone my brother? Where are you now? What has happened to you? The moment for touching the ice is not yet come so why do you flee now? Have I not been a good brother to you? Do you not know what you mean to us all? How can I move on? How am I supposed to move forward with my life knowing you are not? My heart is not the same; my heart is not whole. Where is your strength brother? Who has done this to you? Your friends call, call, and call, and yet you do not answer. You never had an enemy, you were never disliked. That was me, it was I who they did not like, it was I who was to blame. You were loved, and have always been loved please do not do this. I wish I could have your pain so you could live as you always used to. I wish I could carry your load for you so you might be free and without burden. The love we have for you, the love I have you is beyond the scale of this life so if I could but give you some of this matter I'd ask for you be better.

Psychology of actions versus intent

Imagine living in a world of accomplishment; where everything you do, say, and think, is part of a broad plan of "success engineering", and propels you forward toward your goals. You do not "waste time" with your thoughts, you're not "lazy", rather you're the envy of the world. Jumping from task to task, accomplishing feat after feat. It sounds amazing right?

It is amazing to dream about, but the reality is I am not that productive and yet I hold myself to such standards as I believe to be perfect. For ten years I have tried to reach that level of satisfaction and have not attained, no matter how hard I try or how much I actually accomplish it is not enough and leaves me wanting more. In my conscious mind I seem to have my desires and goals structured around a rigid set of rules that go some thing like "do this, then this, then that, followed by this, followed by that... etc.." and it has done nothing but harm me, my self-confidence, and actually hurt my ability to accomplish anything. Why? Because I feel as though I must subscribe to such rigid rules to become the person I dream of being. And there is absolutely no wriggle room within my rules and schedule for doing anything else, or for anything unexpected. If I fail to meet any of my goals or to abide by my rules then I feel worthless, shameful, and humiliated. No one knows the pain other than myself.

So what would happen if I free myself from those rules? What happens if I am not exerting all of my energy, time, and devotion to this image of perfection? Would I be happier? Would I possibly become more successful? It would be like leaving one world and entering another, one where the judgments are different and perhaps not quite as harsh, one where forgiveness not only exists but is possible to achieve, one where people are not simply villains out to destroy me but rather opportunities, where love is encompassing, where communication means something, where I don't have to feel terrible all of the time.

A line must be drawn, and a decision made: Do I live for happiness which inevitably comes with hard work and sacrifice or do I live for pleasure, quick reward, and an inevitable life of regret and self-wallowing? I think it is clear that happiness does not exist within a rigid world devoid of love and passion.

Organization and the story of a struggle with organizing.

Organizing is a stressful, often complicated task, no job, that must be done to some extent in life yet it is one of those facets of human existence that can never be seen to completion. There are small blips of successfully organized quests of organization, where you set aside a time within your day to organize something and see it through to completion; it might be a cluttered desk, swamped with papers about stuff, or objects used as tools like a stapler or keyboard for your computer. Some people thrive on disorganization and some level of entropy in the bubble of a world they create within the fabric of their consciousness.

According to Merriam Webster, to organize means to "arrange or order things so that they can be found or used easily quickly: to put things in a particular arrangement or order".

I personally struggle with organization everyday in almost everything I do. What makes the situation worse is that longer you go without organizing and without attempting to structure your life in some way, shape, or form, the worse the problem gets. It is a problem of compounding, that's it. From organizing my home to organizing my schedule, to organizing my books.

Within my mind I believe that I must have every facet of my life organized to the smallest, most singular element. No atom may act on it's own; they all must be lumped together in some kind of molecular structure. The problem with this ideology of mine is that it is a carry-over from my high-school years, a time when I actually had both the time and the means to accomplish it.
--Now that I am nearly 27 years of age with a full schedule, I no longer have the means or the time to accomplish my desired level of organization. At least, not to such a quantum scale. So is the fault my high-school ideology? In part, yes. But it's also a fault of mine not to reexamine my philosophy and adjust it according to my current schedule and demands. Organization is a must to a certain degree, but beyond that it is simply for aesthetic or pleasurable means. In other words, it no longer becomes efficient. Organizing my DVD's, none of which I have watched in the past six months, does not help my become a better, or more intelligent person. I am not paid to do it, nor am I asked by anyone to see it done. It would simply because I prefer to have them organized by alphabetical order.

With that in mind, the cost/benefit analysis is simply skewed too far in terms of cost for it to be worth my time. But what about something not so carnal as DVD's? What about something more important to my daily life like my finances? Schedule of classes and their related demands?

I think this is where it becomes essential, but again only to a certain degree. I can schedule my classes according to my level of desirability to fit into to my preferences. I do not schedule my classes around my work/social schedule because I rate my classes as a top priority, which is a level of priority higher than my social or work schedule. Everything else is scheduled around them.

But now I come to a psychological quandary: dwelling on opportunity costs, worrying, and spending copious amounts of time and energy then doubting my final decision. This is quite literally the habitual activity that takes up the most of my time and energy. There is simply nothing in my life as demanding as my worry, doubt, and constant dwelling of such things. Not only does it cost my physically in terms of my health, but also spiritually, financially, morally, and mentally.

The solution is simple: less of the costly, detrimental stuff like worrying and more stuff like creating and living a life of happiness. But this is so difficult for me, because everyday I wake up like this:
"I am so tired."
"I am so weak."
"I am so ugly."
"I am so dumb."
"I have to go to class today."
"I have to go to work today."
"I have to see people today."
"I have to speak correctly."
"I have to think correctly."
"I have to be focused."
"I have to read today."
"I have to go to the gym today."
"I have to run today."
"Why did I not run further today?"
"Why did I not study more today?"
"Why did I not speak better today?"
"No, I said that wrong I have to correct my mistake by saying something correct."
"I have to brush my teeth."
"I should have eaten healthier."
"I forgot to call Zach and Thomas."
"I forgot to call my parents."
"I have to meditate."
"I still have to file my taxes."
"Remember that time I kicked the ball wrong?"
"I miss so many people in my life."
"She hasn't texted me back, I must have said something wrong.--I could have said it better."
"I don't like my hair,"
"I don't like how hairy I am."
"Gosh I can't speak right today."
"Damnit, I have to do the dishes."
... and on and on and on... imagine going through that everyday. Not just every single day of your life for the past ten years, but imagine playing out that list of shit over and over again in your head like a record, throughout the day everyday.

That's what I am trying to communicate to everyone. That is literally how my life is and how I spend so much time and energy everyday. As a result, I have it structured like a perfect system in my mind, and anytime something unexpected occurs, like someone asking me to help them with something, I completely crash because my structure leaves no room for outside activities, or unexpected circumstances. It is completely unorthodox and even worse completely idiotic.

An idea: be creative, be assertive, and live life with only the most fundamental rules. One key phrase I heard a few years ago went something like this: "If you have to repeat to yourself everyday as a reminder to convince yourself to do it, it's not worth doing. If you have to remind yourself constantly, it's not worth remembering".

Homeschooling

I recently came across this article from Wired Magazine: home schooling . And it really struck me.

What I'm about to write is long and probably drawn out at times but I want to say everything I believe I should say and furthermore everything I want to say.

I was homeschooled my entire life until I went to college full-time at the age of 18 (fall of 2006). I come from a large, conservative family not unlike most homeschoolers in our area. Most the homeschoolers in our area came from large Christian families, very tight-knit, and most of them owned their own businesses, typically in the construction industry.

We did form a tight bond within the homeschool community but we also were actively involved in the larger community in general, not just with homeschoolers. We had our church, city activities, work, and city-league sports. Riding on the coattails of that subject, the whole "homeschoolers are socially retarded" or any other related saying is nothing more than utter nonesense. Yes, there are homeschoolers that still fit the traditional mold and are no very socially active and I've known many of them but I would argue that the proportion of homeschoolers who are not socially active according to modern norms are no more or less than their public or private-schooled compatriots. I feel as though it is an outdated and vastly uninformed idea.

My family had three things that we did each and everyday: work, study, play sports. From as early as I can remember my parents had me out pulling weeds and gardening to working construction and doing chores around the house. We were busy and our lives were never dull. I would wake up typically around 7:00 AM, eat breakfast, exercise, have bible study, then hit the books. My mother had prepared a school schedule for us over the weekend so we knew what to study and when our tests and quizzes were. However there were times she would hit us with a surprise quiz and see how we were doing.

In my personal opinion and experiences I would argue that homeschooling has much higher stakes and a higher risk/reward ratio than public and often private school. First, homeschooling is done where? In the home! So you school where you play, eat, sleep, and live! There is no separating the two and typically this encourages good behavior and a more relaxed setting. Secondly, the teachers are the parents, or in my case, mostly my mother as my father would be out working. So there is no hiding my school performance from my parents, there is no "detention" or school punishments like the traditional school systems offer, instead everything is linked to your personal life. Poor performance in school can mean being issued more studying time, having sports taken away, toys, or even being grounded. And we face our parents everyday! It's not like we leave everyday to school, see our friends, and talk about every little detail of our lives and complain about our parents! Well, we still did that when we were with out friends but not nearly to the same degree as our counterparts in the educational system. We had no traditional "refuge" as you could call it and this forced us to be responsible for ourselves and to take action. We didn't retreat from hard times, instead we thrived on hard times and eventually overcame them to succeed.

In addition to being homeschooled, my family comes from a strictly Norwegian/Swedish background. My parents took their heritage very seriously and they thrived on hard work to a degree that makes them superhuman. For example, I've never lived in a house built by someone other than my father. We started out poor, I mean so poor that McDonalds was considered a treat every other month. But he would manage to save enough to build us a nice home to live in, and he built these houses by himself. That's what he did for a living, he designed and built homes. He has no college degree either. He learned to draft in highschool and after a few years of drafting he figured he could build a house. Sure enough he did! My mother is an Olympic runner and comes from a rough background, ever since I've been around she's been getting up at 4:00 AM to run anywhere from 3-10 miles. She's in her fifties and still going strong.

Everything my siblings and I were taught, we took very seriously. And one thing that sets us and I'd argue most homeschoolers apart from their school-system counterparts are their social skills. Society typically views us as "weird" or "backwards" or "awkward" and I used to resent those phrases but now I actually feel warmth. Because we spent (and many homeschoolers still spend) most our time working, schooling, playing sports, and being active in clubs and organizations, we never really got "time to ourselves" as most kids do. We simply didn't have time for it, so when the opportunity would arise where we could hang out with our friends without the pressure of upcoming deadlines, we relished it. We would speak about our ideas and passions that we cared most deeply for, and form bonds with each other that few would understand. There is simply no way to describe it.

Homeschooling allows kids to tinker, play, and experiment without any extended pressure. While our counterparts in public and private institutions are focusing on memorizing for an exam simply so that can pass the test and then forget everything, we are truely learning, working at a dynamic pace and fulfilling a need that every child deserves. So what if our clothes aren't as hip, or we aren't familiar with the latest slang and gossip. We know how to build stuff, to create, to innovate, to lead others, and to think outside of societies box. That's a proper education! While millions of kids are learning how to play follow the leader and work in a small cubicle doing God know's what, we are creating small-businesses, developing new medicines, building skyscrapers, and setting our communities and families up for success. We don't always become rich but we are successful, happy, and willing to learn. Homeschooling provides an environment that fosters passion for learning, for hard work, and for family bonding. What's typical for us is atypical for the rest.

Home is where the heart is

That never meant much to me. The saying that "home is where the heart is". I've never understood that until now, unfortunately. I am 26 by the way.

Doing something because you have to and doing something because you want to are completely opposite and lead to entirely unique outcomes. Let's say you're baking an apple pie, but you really don't want to bake it. You'd rather be doing other things but you had made a promise to the local homeless shelter saying you'd contribute by baking this pie. You also have a lot going on in your life; work, a girlfriend or boyfriend, your usual gym time, and whatever else. You view this pie as a pain in the ass and as such you may not pay close attention to the list of ingredients and forget the sugar; you're not paying attention to the amount of sugar you're putting in the pie and rather than measure it you're just "winging" it and putting in what you think is the right amount because measuring takes too much time and being the busy person you are it's just not worth it. You pop it in the oven and forget to set the timer, or you do set it and simply forget about it and go about your business.

My point is that you really are much more likely to bake a better pie if you bake with love as opposed to doing it because you feel obligated to. This scenario can be expanded to include anything else. 

Conclusion: wherever you apply yourself and whatever you put your heart into, you will see success and the return on your investment will be paid back and then some.

Looking around, there are plenty of average people. I know this one guy and he looks pretty average, talks pretty average, and doesn't really stand out from everyone else. He dresses in low-key clothes that don't cost a lot, he enjoys talking about football, trucks, and wildlife and doesn't have any interest in physics, mathematics, or what Bill Gross is up to. He doesn't get really excited about much, at least not apparently so. He's just a simple man: what you see is what you get.

Well, I wanted to know more about this guy because I saw him everyday and interacted with him nearly every day. And no matter what I never saw him upset or sad. He always seemed more like content if not happy. And I thought "how is that possible?" How are his emotions in check like that all the time? He must be hiding something!

Not really. He grew up on a ranch fifty miles from the nearest town with his parents and three siblings. Winter temperatures would sink to -40 Fahrenheit, summers a scorching 110. His entire family relied upon the nations demand for their cattle. Some years were good, some were bad, most were just ok. He grew up modest, and was raised to treat others fairly. You could say he was raised pretty well. 

Fast forward to today and he's my age, 26. He has three kids, a beautiful wife, a nice new home, new truck, still seems like the nice guy I knew back in highschool. In fact, his personality hasn't changed a bit. Same sense of humor and mostly the same interests. He rarely, if ever, complains about anything. And if he does it's in a mostly joking tone and he'll start and end it in one sentence.

I've always asked myself: "why is he so much happier than I am?" Here I am with more education and knowledge than most people according to my years in college and yet I don't know the answer to this seemingly simple question. 

One time not too long ago my truck broke down. I popped the hood, got out, and looked all around. "That's the engine... there's the oil-gauge, wiper fluid reservoir,  serpentine belt.... battery...." I could identify most parts of the engine but had no clue as to what was wrong let alone how to fix it. I thought for a while about who I could call but being in a place I wasn't very familiar with I didn't know many people. The people I did know were more acquaintances than friends. Mostly by their choosing because I can be a very selfish person. Going through my contacts on my phone I come across his name and thought about calling him. Before I did I weighed my options of everything: "I could call a tow-truck but they will charge me an outrageous fee.... I could call such and such and they would probably come but I'm not very close with them and haven't treated them well in the past..." I was out of options and decided to call him, but before I did I had one fear that crossed my mind "what is he going to think? He'll probably think I am useless and not even a man!"... wait! Do you see what happened there? I stopped to think about what he thought. Interesting. Anyway, I called him up and as usual he answered with the same cool "hello" he's always had. I explained my situation and he said he just had to finish something at work but he would be over in 15 minutes. Whew! He'll figure it out I thought!

15 minutes later he shows up. Looks at the engine bay, tried starting my truck within 30 seconds tells me "your alternator is no good".... hmmm.... I've heard that word before but I really don't know anything about it. He shows me where it is and tells me he'll take me to a place and get a new one and install it. I thought "wow sure yeah!" We go to an auto-parts store and he tells them which one I need. We return to my truck and he proceeds to take out his tools and work on getting my old alternator out and replacing it with a new one. About an hour later my truck is running again! I thank him and offer to pay him/buy him a beer and whatever else! He tells me not to worry about then before driving off says jokingly that I should drive slower! 

Thinking about it I realized that he's that strong, steady man every woman wants to be with and every man desires to be like. The most beautiful women have always pursued him but he's never really been interested until he met the girl that would later be his wife. He would always tell jokes even if it was -30 with the wind howling and we were both absolutely miserable on a job site. He's never been afraid to try doing something himself. Most of the time he would fail on his first attempt or two but by the third try he'd get it. I'm terrified of heights but he'd climb up the side of a mountain without hesitation. I would hit a jump on my dirtbike going 40mph, then he'd hit it going 50mph. I'd say "I can't do that" to something and then he'd go and do it. I'd date different women and complain about life, he'd stay single and complain about there not being enough beer. I'd Google "how to fix a car" he'd be out there doing it. Friends would call me and ask if I could help them move and I'd decline saying I didn't have the time. When friends asked him he'd say "yeah sure I'll help you move, I'll bring my truck and some pizza too!" 

He was basically my opposite. Almost never getting angry, never sad or too upset about anything. Always logical, direct, and light-hearted. I'd talk about quantum mechanics and he'd talk about the Seahawks. I made six figures and he was barely scraping by but somehow he managed to build himself a nice house, afford nice vehicles, marry the most beautiful girl within 500 miles, and was known to everyone within that same range. No one had anything bad to say about him and he had nothing to say about anyone else. I thought "he's just doing what everyone does" but it turns out it was the opposite. He's a hardcore Christian, doesn't care for cursing, dislikes drugs, never had pre-marital sex, and in social-scenes he was always calm and focused. No matter how bad you treated him he would never return the favor and continued to treat everyone as equals. He had specific values and principles that I never once saw broken. 

This guy is a good friend of mine and no matter how poor of character I've been or lacking of love he's always been nearby. There's a lot to be said about a man who has substance like that and none of them are bad. 

Family

Let's talk about family for a minute... or ten!

I have to say I am so thankful for my family and could not imagine being blessed with a better family! They are the best family in the world to have!

My family is fairly big, mom, dad, and six of us kids. We grew up very different from everyone else and I cannot possibly explain in words, thoughts, or actions how thankful I am for them and how much they mean to me. It's really a spiritual thing when I think about them.

I have never met anyone else who works as hard as my parents do with such honor, ethics, and smarts that they have. My father is an architect, drafter, designer, carpenter, builder, mechanic, handyman, and many other things unofficially. He would be out building a homes by himself in weather that would range from -30 Fahrenheit to +110.  I don't know anyone like that. He would be out there working six days a week, 12 hours a day, for 30 years! He built a small empire and provided a life for his family while watching us play sports and encouraging us to push on and beyond what we think or anyone else thinks. He taught me that honor comes first. To do right by God, then family. When I was eight and getting into fights with local kids he would tell me "don't start fights and do what you can to avoid them, but if you're in danger and they are hitting you then you hit them back so hard they never think about hitting you again.-Stand up for yourself." or another bit when I was thinking about what I would do for the future "people need three things: food, clothing, and shelter. If you can come up with something that has to do with those and you work harder at it then everyone else, you can succeed." I called him one time and complained about life and how frustrated I was and he said "remember that movie? Two mice are in a bowl of milk and swimming to stay afloat, the one gives up and drowns, the other keeps moving his arms and eventually churns the milk into butter. You just have to keep moving forward."

He would never let me complain, never let me quit. The margin for error was slim with him, and even failing at something was grounds for a stern look of disappointment in his eyes. But that encouraged me to do better and achieve greater results. He always leads the way and has my back. After working a 12 hour day in 100 degree temperatures, he would come home to help me with my math. He would make me sit at the table with him for three hours as I struggled through algebra.

He taught me how to change a tire, build a house, make a square cut, pour concrete, make a budget, how to succeed and to never quit. Be relentless and go the extra mile. He taught me with his actions, not so much words. He has never been big on conversation, he's a quintessential Norwegian. Strong as a bull-moose, level-headed, hard worker, relentless, God fearing, and he has never given a damn what people think.

Doesn't smoke, drink, or curse. If God ever came down to earth in human form again, it'd be in the form of my father. The devil himself is afraid of him. Death has tried to take him several times and failed. I believe death is now afraid of him. He is the embodiment of 300 spartans in one man. I've never seen him quit, never seen him give up, never seen him fail. He is all that is man.

And my mom. I could say many of the same things. She is strong, relentless, hard-nosed, determined, smart, and absolutely detests wickedness. She's also incredibly loving, supportive and has been there for me through thick and thin. She's always encouraged me and driven me to succeed. To be positive no matter what. Ever I've known her (26 years now), she's been rising at 4:00 AM to run anywhere from 3-10 miles in the morning through rain, sun, snow, and every imaginable temperature. Followed by a workout, cooking, cleaning, getting the house and all of us ready for the day then taking us wherever we needed to be. She's the perfect and highest embodiment of determination and the relentless pursuit of the spirit. Death tried to take her a couple of times and like my father, she whooped death.

As I write this I feel myself becoming overwhelmed with thoughts of her and her accomplishments and realize I cannot adequately describe them or her like she deserves. All I can say is no other woman has worked like her. She's been a law-student, home-maker, olympic athlete, pillar of strength that's kept the family together in times of hardship, and is simply the most amazing woman on the planet. I am so blessed by God to have such amazing and wonder parents!

My older sister is an engineer and just a brilliant one at that! She is so smart it's ridiculous! She is the perfect embodiment of my parents: smart, beautiful, hard-working, independent, and doesn't give a damn what anyone thinks. She's always been there for me and has never had a problem being brutally honest with me even when I didn't want her to be haha!

She's a former drill-team girl, newspaper columnist, dancer, athlete, and now engineer, fisherman, hunter, and rancher.

My older brother is the strongest, most ablest, kindest, and sincerest person I've ever known. I'd get into fights a lot when I was younger and he'd always have my back! Ok, not really! He enjoyed seeing me get into trouble haha! But he would step in when he really had to. I played sports with him like basketball, hockey, soccer, baseball, even gymnastics! I've always looked up to him because no matter how good I was at something he was always better! I still haven't played against someone as good as him in basketball or hockey! Other than my father, he is my inspiration!

One year in baseball I would brag to my friends that my brother had a size 15 shoe, and he was only a freshman in highschool. Yeah they didn't think it was that cool, but I did. Everyone falls in love with him too, and growing up was a real problem for me haha! Girls would always swoon over him, and my friends wanted to be like him.

Today, he struggles with anxiety and depression unfortunately. And I would give anything and will continue to work as hard as I can to help him. It's terribly upsetting and is one of the few things that makes me really sad.

After him comes me, followed by my younger sister.

She's only a year younger so we've always spent a lot of time together. She's always been stubborn, incredibly smart, driven, and curious. Not too mention she's also beautiful! If I didn't lose my friends to my brother's influence, I'd lose them to her looks. We were super close growing up and shared/did everything together.

She's now married, pursuing a nursing degree, and living a good life!

Next comes my other sister who is now a senior in highschool! Her and my next youngest sister are closer in age than the rest of us so there has always been a disconnect between us four older ones and them two. But she is also very beautiful and is more introverted. She's incredibly smart too, in fact so smart it's like she's a copy of my oldest sister! She reads constantly, succeeds in everything she does, and is a super well-grounded girl.

I hate to say it but I've missed out on her life so much. Because of school, work, traveling, and my own selfishness, I have missed out on much of her life. It makes me terribly sad to think that all those years are gone and shes about to go off to college. She's no longer that little girl that I used to play soccer with, the one I taught to ride a bike, to ride a four-wheeler, and told stupid jokes to. I am so ashamed of myself whenever I look at her because I know I have failed to be the brother she deserves.

Same goes with my youngest sister. She takes after my sister who is a year younger than me, rather than my oldest sister. She's more extroverted, sporty, and rocks the blonde hair. She's such a beautiful girl and probably the happiest girl I've ever met. She's always smiling, working towards something, and expressive of how she feels.

Man, my biggest regret is not living life. I have been so consumed by wickedness that I missed out on many things; two of them being my two youngest sisters. I love them with all my heart and soul and will spend the rest of my life loving them and being the best older brother I can.