If there is, I could write a book on it. But, like this site, I wouldn't be able to get past the first page.
My Uncle's funeral was today. It was good; as good as a funeral can be. Less than fifty people showed up. I was a little disappointed at some of my relatives because they didn't come. However, it was nice to see Uncle Ken, Aunt Linda [Watkins], Aunt Martie, Uncle Charles, Aunt Linda [Wolfe], and my parents. My folks will be up in this area until Sunday, so Saturday we're going to hang out all day.
During the funeral, though it was hard, I made it through the entire ordeal without crying. I'm not one of those macho guys who think it's not cool to cry. Actually, I'm quite the opposite; I am not opposed to it at all. But, I wasn't really close to him and didn't feel it was my place to cry. Does that make sense? You know, like it attracts attention to myself and there were plenty people who were more hurt today than I. The thing that was more disheartening than the actual death of my uncle was that my Dad was crying. I had to pinch myself a few times to keep it together because my Dad was singing and it really was more sobbing than singing. That was hard. It tore my heart up. The guy I immortalized as a child finally turns into a mortal as I slowly make my way to manhood. Crazy times.
As tired as I am, I should stop writing, shutdown the PC, and get into bed. But, there's a chance I could wet the bed. So, I'll expound on my Pops some more.
When I was a youngster, I enjoyed meeting his approval. As I got older, especially in my teenage years, I abhorred his approval and went out of my way to loose it. While this might seem dumb now, it certainly made sense then--it was called rebellion. But, there are a few mistakes that my Dad will not let me forget. I used to become irate when he would bring those incidents up. And while he should let things go easier, maybe I shouldn't have done the idiotic things in the first place. But what can you do? He remembers. As I get older, I find myself trying to meet his approval again. I will always and by always, I do mean always, do what I want or what I think God wants. But, I like to throw ideas I have past him, to see if they make sense . It's a good place to be when you can appreciate and honor your parents opinions. Especially since, for the longest time, I wouldn't want anything to do with it.
Maybe I'm growing up? Or this is just a phase. Maybe you are going through this too? Life is nothing but a confusing maze...
Today I received the third and final shot in my series of Hepatitis B shots. It hurt quite more than I remember the previous ones. Also, I went to the bread store and I saw a needle on the ground. I figure I should be some kind of heroin addict or atleast know one. Wanna be friends?
My great Uncle Hub died today. I'm not too broken up about it because I didn't know him all that well. The funeral is close to here, so I'm going to go to it on Friday. The sad part is, I'm looking forward to it because I get to see my family and I'll miss some work that day (both horrible reasons, I know). I'll miss him. But, I trust in God's will and his providence. I don't have a lot to say, so why not post a poem that doesn't relate to any of this:
Against Levitical Law
My day started normal
Like any other September
Things resembling the past
Eluding to allusions of the future
It was going fine
I had made plans for up until a quarter till nine
Along this day
Something got in my way
I wasn't looking for beauty
But, then all I saw was you
Everywhere I looked
All the time I stared
The biggest smile I've ever received
In my wildest dreams I couldn't have conceived
That it would be for me
Your storyteller eyes all bright and clear
A heart that I always want to be near
Things seemed like ecstasy
Until my rapture of reality
An ironic, self-defeating moment
I missed the whole scene
Someone told me about it
A friend I trust indeed
How dumb am I?
I didn't even look your way
Something as precious as your face
And I let pride get in the way
Was that smile meant just for me? I guess one day we shall see
Where To Go From Here? This is the way it always happens. I come up with this great idea for a post or maybe something I write just turns out to be a good post in general. I post it. It's a hit. But, then the next time my mind wanders onto the notion of writing, I run into a well known problem, bam... I cannot come up with anything. It happens all the time. You wouldn't believe how much pressure it is to write. Or maybe you would. My days are long and the nights take ever longer to get through. That sounds so depressive doesn't it? I've got some things to do and some errands to run before I go to work today. My next day off is Tuesday. It can't come soon enough. I need rest. Don't hate me...
"So let's not even try to read. Let's bottle it up and throw it out the window. It's becoming all so clear in my mind. I've thought this thing through more than once. So, try and feel that this is my last request to you. Hold your breath. Bottle it up. And save it for the next words. It's safe to say we've been writing this all night. None of this would ever change your mind. Is it ever safe to love if we're okay? Now were both wounded. I pray this day can open up your eyes." Underoath, Young And Aspiring, from the brand new hit album They're Only Chasing Safety.
I am honored to be writing To Whom's 700th post. I would say a lot of time, thought, and preparation have gone into each and every one of the 699 previous posts, but I don't know if that is an accurate claim--considering I've written approximately 450 of them. Maybe blood, sweat, and tears poured out onto the keyboards when the other three contributors of crime were writing, but I know I've posted many times when I referred to that particular blog as a "cheap post." None the less, here were are, on our way to a magical land called the efficacious life of a person with no life. Maybe that's how some would describe our humble little blog. Maybe not. Regardless, we are at a crossroads and the limits... well, there are none.
In preparation for this ever important post, I tried to become one with my PC, so that it might enable me to think clearly and critically about my blogging experience. I can make claims that I am a far better person for becoming a part of To Whom It May Concern. While that claim may be bold, I can defend it without any uncertain doubt. Now, that's what I call assurance.
I reread some of my first posts tonight. They are actually quite amusing. Not because I couldn't write well or because I was trying to be funny and aimlessly failing, but because I felt like whatever I said was going to be read. Now, the ironic part is that we have many more readers of the site today than then, but for some reason, I thought what I was going to write would be important. And it was. Not at the early moment, but it would eventually become something more. It would become part of two and a half years of words from a few guys (some more than others) and this little site would become part of our lives (and yours hopefully). Those first posts would help shape the way I communicated my thoughts and feelings to a very limited audience. All the while learning so much more about myself in the process.
Such a post would permit me time to list out all of my accomplishments regarding my stint here on To Whom, but that would be rather boring. I know, though, if it wasn't for me posting my opinions and ideologies on here every few days, I wouldn't be able to write as well as I do, I wouldn't be able to defend my views as well as I think I can, I wouldn't be able to come up with some of the poetry I have, I wouldn't feel comfortable explaining myself, the way I felt, or expressing those feelings I have when they are difficult to talk about. All and all, I say that there is nothing I regret about this site, except that we didn't write more often.
If you're reading this, for the first time or the hundredth, please know that To Whom will always be here as long as we can write and as long as Blogger will host it. Shoot, maybe one day we'll have a hand-typed html template or even a real domain. Regardless, I hope you will stick around to see what happens. Like I said earlier, we are at a crossroads, and we are limitless.
There Are Things That We Cannot Understand All this stuff with Martha Stuart hasn't really effected me. I mean, I don't care if she goes to jail or not. I don't really expect justice to be served when everyday regular people go into court. But, if a celebrity does, I especially don't anticipate a fair and unbiased trial. But, the thing that gets me is, all these people who do not think she deserves jail time. Hello? She committed a crime. Proven guilty. What else do you expect? Plus, she'll end up getting some kind of special treatment in there and she only got 5 months to begin with. Give me a break. If I lied about some stock thing, my butt would be sentenced a lot longer than 5 months and 5 months of house arrest.
Beach erosion is a problem, but not for those who live in the mainland. I suffer the same fate. No concern for anything else. But, the chance that fate would make its way through the night, and touch me, but then at the last second, pass over me. I am honored to be ignored...
I used to assume that when somebody spat upon another person, it was to be taken as a sign of disrespect or rudeness. However, after work tonight, I feel like it could possibly represent an earnest affection for someone. The reason I think this is because this one kid spat upon me, my clothes, and his peers a whole bunch tonight. I hope that means he likes me. I guess it also shows that hepatitis isn't that easy to catch.
As I was arriving home from work the other night, I noticed a red light emitting from one of the apartments in my "development." Outside each apartment, there are light fixtures that have the apartment number on it and at night time, the light comes on, so you can see what number each apartment is via the light bulb inside. Well, as I approached the apartment with the strange red glow, I realized that whomever lived there (the local smack dealer and/or user) had a red scarf over the light, thus igniting the blood-like glow. A gentlemen was sitting outside and I don't think he even looked at me. So to myself, I'm thinking, "What does this red light signify?" I've heard of red light districts, which are blocks that have prostitution. But, has my neighborhood (emphasizing 'hood' mind you) turned into a harboring for the whores? Or could it just be drugs? Any ideas?
Every few days, I return with some new thoughts for you. Actually, I wouldn't say they are new. If I wrote my entire life out on here, I still don't think it would get anymore interesting. So, I leave you with poetry. I wrote this, maybe 6 months ago, but it perfectly describes this week. Deal with it. You should learn to read other things, like poetry, or maybe a dictionary:
Working For Nothing
Making time last
My life seems to be slowing down really fast
Pausing the day to escape
Another breath I gasp to take
To free myself from my take on guilt
I give it up
Quit accounting for my situations
Misguidance awaits divine penetration
Beauty from words that only inhale
I believe I'm much too fond of ale
Cooperating on a frozen whim
Trying to get closer to Him
I've been back from Melbourne for almost a week now. Working full time is normal for some, but it's tiring for me. I guess I get another break for a few years when I start graduate school. But, doing something you don't really enjoy, as I can imagine for all, can get a bit tiresome. Some things I did when I was home:
-Hung out with my Granny and took her to the grocery store. We talked about politics for 30 minutes. I've never heard her use so many explicitives in my entire life as those she used in that short period time. "Republicans are nothing but a bunch of bastards", she proclaimed.
-My buddy Jimmy and I went and grabbed a meal. I've known that guy since I was like 8; we've been good friends since. He will be a groomsmen in my wedding.
-I had my first flat tire. I was driving and I hit this little piece of a metal rod. I went to bed late and got up early and changed it by myself. I had to buy two new tires. I spent $166.50.
-I got a new laptop. Well, new to me anyway. My Dad decided to give me his because he wants to get a new one soon. It's a dinosaur though. I just mainly need one to type notes on in class and this is perfect for it. The speedy 500 MHz allows me to speed around my impressive 5 GB hard drive. The incredible 64 MB of memory gives my notebook just the right amount of memory to explore the internet with my 28.8K BPS modem card. Haha, I am happy about it.
-Also, I ate at some of my favorite restaurants. It's nice to be chubby. Jed and I used to say we're going to start to work out and we're going to go on our last "fat run." We always made more runs, and never start working out. Well, it's my turn to lose wait.
That's basically it with my life now. Maybe I'll have new thoughts soon. Maybe you'll quit reading...
I lied to a heroin addict today
Please sir, go away
I told him I had no money
Now I feel like crap
But I can't help him score some crack
Do I tell him to get a job?
Even when I live my life like a slob
I think he's worse
Pointing fingers is always painless
Convincing people that your view is clearer
An ongoing saga of underestimating the inferior
Frankly speaking is not so appealing
Morris code would have been easier
I'm sorry, I haven't been out gallivanting
Even though deception was still lingering
How do I get you to just go away?
Maybe I can help you shoot up some other day
Doesn't Mark say to give to all who ask of you?
How does one go about speaking his point of view?
What will it take to share my joy?
When all I can see is his pain
Suffering makes more cents than donating change
Tell me sir, how did you get addicted to pain
Everyone already points at me
So you and I are kind of the same
Except I don't give into narcotic depravity
I want to believe the lies you say
Feeling horrible on such a beautiful day
I want to stand up for guys like him
Instead of just giving in
What's the answer for junkies today?
It can't just be, You need to get saved I have to show him that God cares
And that I'm not just some white boy who is scared
Jesus, Gandhi, and Buddha all agree
I should always strive to help those people
Who are less fortunate than me