I Disappeared

For all those, as few as you are, that enjoyed or at the very least read my first posts, Thank you.

I stopped writing. Never told you all the reasons why I started. I shared some about someone I loved very much who had passed. It was my dog. Maybe some scoff or think I’m stupid, but he was always there for me. I wasn’t popular and I lacked confidence. I was never invited to parties, and in a crowd I felt alone. Puppy never let me feel alone.

I thought I had years left with him. He was 13, I should have known it was unlikely. His health declined fast. Way too fast. I spent lunches away from work holding him. Hoping he’d make a recovery. In the end, I had to put my best friend down. My felt like it physically ripped in two. Feeling has always been hard for me, but that was enough sorrow for a lifetime.

My dog was my protector. He couldn’t have actually saved me from anything, but if he was sitting with me no one could come near. There was never any doubt that he loved anyone more than me. How could you ever be so lucky to have someone love you that much. 2018 was rough because of that and so much more. So much loss, but I could have taken all the other stuff if I didn’t lose him.

It’s been over a year now. There’s still a hole. I miss you Pup Pup.

Fading Imaginations

If you don’t get imagination as a child you probably never will. – Dr. Seuss

Did you ever run into the wild with just your imagination? As a kid it’s how I always played. A stick could be sword, bow, or a bazooka. Foes and enemies appeared before my eyes, and I bested my greatest challengers. I often recall these memories with fondness, and think to a car passing by I was just a kid tumbling and running around for no reason. My imagination was strong back then. The lost of imagination is one of the greatest tragedies. Because we stop believing we can beat the things that haunt us. Our belief in ‘good triumphs over evil’ is squashed in the harsh reality that is life. As a kid you believe paper wings can make you fly, or pieces of junk can be turned into a time machine. Where does our imagination go?

Reality takes it when a hero dies. Reality takes it when the darkness of this world is greater than the light. Reality takes it when you have to get a job. Reality takes it when those paper wings fail and the time machine never comes to life. Adult imagination isn’t nearly as powerfully as a child’s. It has to be nurtured the older you get because the truths become too real. Turning a blind eye to facts becomes harder. Some might say you can’t live in a fantasy world, but why not? Maybe people wouldn’t be so cruel, depressed, stressed, or cold if they just opened their mind up more. Not open to new ideas necessarily, but just to the power of the mind’s eye. Be willing to stare nonsense in the face, and accept what it has to offer.

I think back to those times in the woods, my front yard, at the lake, running around my house; all the places I explored my imagination, and I miss that time of being lost in my mind. Worries were few, and joy was great. I think I will take a weekend sometime soon and wander into the woods. Pick up a stick and fight my foes. Engage my imagination because it is something I don’t want to lose. The world is too real and harsh of a place not to get lost in a fantasy world once in awhile.

My Boss (P. 1)

Take care of your assets and your assets will take care of you. – My Boss

There has been a lot of loss in 2018. What was left of my past is fading away, and I’ve always made the mistake of holding onto the past. A man, who was more like a grandfather to me than a boss, passed away this past summer. He gave me a lot of wisdom over my years of working for him. After college I’d just go down to talk with him, and the thing I regret most is that I didn’t do it more. I always found a reason why I was too busy. Time never pauses though, even when you promise to make more of it for those you love.

My boss didn’t fear death. I don’t know how he didn’t, but when the cancer was back and he was given months to live, he just kept on living. He helped someone build a house for Christ’s sake. He’d be out on his tractor or mowing the lawn. Life didn’t stop when he found out he only had a little left. He made sure to use that time he had left. There’s so many lessons to be talked about there alone, but my mind comes back to his six business ideals. Ones he had me commit to memory. Ones he had everyone he came across commit to memory.

Take care of your assets and your assets will take care of you. I always thought he was talking about the tractor, the chainsaw(I frequently jammed or dulled), or other possessions. Now, when I look back, I think his greatest assets were people. Everyone he came across, he tried to better their lives, and it was very rare when he didn’t succeed. He changed my life for the better, at least, when I was wise enough to listen. So what do we get from this? Help your friends, your family, your fellow man; because they are the assets that are life changing and will truly take care of you. I’d do anything if I could talk with him one more time. To hear his wisdom. To laugh with him. To have him ask a thousand questions about my life. To talk about the next project, even if it’s me. Since that is no longer possibly, I need to pass the wisdom on. I need to make those who are sad laugh. I need to show interest in other’s lives. I need to move on to the next project, even if it’s me.

In loving memory of my Boss.

Man Before You

We all need a friend, but some are always needy. – Robert Joseph

You look in the eyes of the person in the front of you,

He looks back into yours too.

You feel lost and like your all alone,

This man, too, seems to be on his own.

You ask him, “Why love never seems to stay.”

He doesn’t respond just miserably looks away.

You tell him you feel misery and pain,

When all your strength for love is in vain.

Still no answer.

Tears show in his lonely blue eyes,

Like he lost the star shining in his night sky.

You tell him a girl causes you pain tonight,

How, for some stupid reason, without her nothing seems right.

The tears in his eyes push out,

Is this, too, what his pain is about?

You take a deep breath and again begin to speak,

“She made me feel so strong, but now so weak.

Do you know what it’s like to have no hope with a girl like this?”

You know he does when whiteness fills both his fists,

And one lonely tear rolls down his face.

His eyes look lost and empty as space.

The tears just begin streaming from his eyes,

You realize you, too, have started to cry.

You try to comfort him and yourself,

You say, “If we become friends maybe it won’t hurt worse than anything else.”

He bitterly and doubtfully laughs about what was just said,

You, too, feel great doubt in your head.

You now realize the man that stands before you,

Is just a mirror, a reflection you wish wasn’t true,

Because the man in the mirror is you.

Reaching

I play this game when there is something I desperately want. I look the other way. I try to pretend it doesn’t exist. I focus on anything I can to not think about the thing I want. I do this because when I want something, I obsess over it, and before long whatever I wanted is gone. It fades away out of reach, and my life is back to being just me.

This can’t be a feeling mutually exclusive to me. I know there must be others who find when they focus on a desire it disappears, but what is the solution. Never truly care about anything? Feign engaging? Wouldn’t that just lead to more loneliness. If you are anything like me, the loneliness reaches a point where it is not bearable. Humans need connections. My soul is wired to want the connections that want me the least. In that moment, when I try to focus on anything else, everything, but the thing I want, becomes joyless; tasteless; meaningless; just not enough. The people in my life notice, but their cries for my attention go ignored.

I never said I was a good person. In fact, I would venture to say I’m a terrible person to those that love me. The exception was always Einstein. Even when I was reaching for the one thing I wanted, I never lost sight of him, but his story is still not one I am ready to write. This is about reaching. About desire. I think some people, like myself, are wired with such an intense wanting that there is no solution. We are the ones cursed to worry about wanting anything because it means such an intense loss that our own minds cannot begin to fathom. How does one become so attached so quickly. I have no words of wisdom or encouragement. This was just to see if there is others like me, and to let others know there is people like them.

If you are lost in a crowd, you are not alone. – Robert Joseph

Underwater

Lately, I’d describe my life as underwater. At most times I feel like everything is heavy, but there’s moments when I can breathe and see the light. Where joy isn’t sought, but found, and the loneliness is quenched. Then I sink or should I say think, either is accurate. My thoughts are heavy, they have been since I was young, and they slowly drag me deeper. At times, I can bear the weight and tread the water. Ignore the depths below. That was until I lost him.

Einstein. He wasn’t someone, he was the one who brightened up the worst days. A life line to hold myself above the water. It has been seven months, and I still can’t breathe and the weights are unbearable. Time is filled by space. Space that perpetuates upon itself stretching out into infinity that I can’t find a way or a reason to fill, yet I know if he were here it would be filled.

So what is this page you have stumbled upon. Ramblings? Musings? Bitching? Maybe a bit of everything.

Thanks for joining me. Stay if you need; leave if it’s all the same.

Love doesn’t suck; the loss of it does. – Me

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