Nothing, nothing really, I just feel I need something stronger

I got to thinking about sanity when I got up this morning. No particular reason, that’s just the type of person I am. I was just having one of those mornings where I wondered to myself, “Is this the day I finally go nuts?” I’d like to think I’m not the only person who feels that way at times; who knows, maybe by the act of questioning if I’m going insane is the act of a rational mind. But lets look at that for a moment. What precisely does “sane” mean in the first place? Well, based on the definition in the Merriam-Webster online dictionary: 1: proceeding from a sound mind : rational 2: mentally sound; especially : able to anticipate and appraise the effect of one’s actions 3: healthy in body “Proceeding from a sound mind” sounds like an acid trip, it doesn’t especially tell me what the definition of sanity is. The second definition, about being able to anicipate the effects of our own actions… are they serious? How many of you know someone who has said that they were going to go do something, and you knew, without hesitation, that it was a bad idea? And we

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How to save a life…

Friday evening, I left work and went home via the bus. A pretty uneventful trip home, as a matter of fact. I got home and realized that I felt really restless. I couldn’t shake the feeling. Finally, at about 7 o’clock, I took one of the really crappy beat up mountain bikes from the garage and went for a ride down the springwater corridor here in Portland. I started at the 12 mile post, and turned around at the 20 (for those that can’t do math, that means I rode 8 miles there, and 8 miles back). Lets just say that my legs, for lack of a better term, felt like jello. Badly. I was within, oh, 5 minutes of my house when it happened. Now, for the people that know me, you’re going to wonder how something like this could happen to me again. As I’ve said time and time again, I always seem to attract crazy and outlandish situations and I don’t know why. Anyway, ahead of me was a gentleman that was walking along the trail. He was within spitting distance (literally) of the junction of the corridor and 136th ave. When I got about 50 feet

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Courage

So often, people speak of morality and idealogies as if they are a fable or a mask that we can put on and take off at will. While I’m sure that there are people with that capability, I am not one of them. I always strive to do right, even in the face of adversity and pressure from others. That being said, I have a great deal of respect for those that require of themselves, regardless of outcome or recognition, that they do the right thing. I don’t know why I started thinking about Irena Sendler today, but I did. Do you know who she is? Honestly, I doubt it. That’s okay, but she’s a woman that I greatly admire for her courage. She was the female equivalent of (and dare I say, more courageous than) Oskar Schindler. Let me give you just a bit of history. Irena was a social worker that, after obtaining fake identification to pass herself off as a nerse, used boxes, suitcases, sacks, and coffins, to smuggle jewish children out of german held Poland in 1939. In 1943, she was captured by the Nazis and tortured. She refused to tell her captors who her co-conspirators

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Friends and fauxs

Last night my band had a show at a place called The Blue Pepper in Salem. It’s a little coffee/wine/beer shop in downtown Salem that we’ve played a couple of times before. Quite a few of my friends showed up (and one of my friends was the opening band for us), and I had quite a nice time talking to them. Two people in particular, Molly and Robert, were nice enough to come and support me. This is what makes them great friends. I’ve only known them a couple of years, but it amazes me how supportive and awesome they are. Really, it’s not a huge deal that a friend shows up at a concert of ours. We play a lot of the same songs and I’m sure they can get pretty tired of it. But the fact that they show up, time and time again, as many times as they can, just to support me… well, I’ve got to say that I have very few people in my life with that kind of dedication. So, Molly and Robert, if you’re reading this, thanks so much for being there for me. And not just at the concert, but just being

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Hanging around

I spoke to my friend Sandra today. She’s getting married in October, and she gave me my (very lovely) invitation to said event. I would scan it, but… well… I’m lazy, and I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate the location being displayed all over the internet. I suppose I’m a decent friend that way. Anyway. I got to thinking about love. I know, I know, I’m sure most of the people in my life are tired of my “deep thoughts” on blah blah blah, but this is really the only person I know how to be, okay? I’ve spent my life reconsidering life and reality and all the things that we hold to be true. You know why? Because I have trouble differentiating reality at times. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then you’re not “in the know”, and I’m not about to explain it. Getting back on subject, though: love. This post is going to head out in to left field and kind of meander out there for a while, so bear with me. I received an e-mail from a friend yesterday. The purpose of his e-mail was to tell me that a good friend of mine from

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Despair

When the sun finally falls beneath the crest of the Earth the moon rises in the sky and the stars stare down like angry eyes despair creeps in like a thief and brigand down the chimney or maybe through a window across the carpet and in to my room it finds me in the dark cradles my head softly like a lover lost to time and separated by distance every bit as harsh but welcome just the same

The other side

I’ve lived for others; fast and without remorse or regret. Never thinking about the consequences, and I’m sure it is plainly known by those that survived each storm with me that this is who I am. I just keep running and running and I never look back. I only pause to see all that I’ve destroyed and all that I’ve abandoned. And still, I move on. I’ve been going through a decent amount of introspection the last couple of weeks and come to find that I’m no longer sure of who I am or where I’m going. As 1st Corinthians 13 put it, I am a “poor reflection”; I have trouble seeing beyond the illusion that is life, and the illusions that we feed ourselves. It’s a trap, though, one we fall in to when we look at our problems beneath a microscope and dust mites become dragons beneath the lense. I’m eyeing those around me with a fair amount of suspicion these days and casually wondering if they’re as happy or as miserable as they seem to portray themselves. I suspect not, but then, what do I know about human behavior? I guess I’m just rambling and not making

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The muse and a slow burning candle

I’m sitting here in the dark watching a burning candle, inhaling incense, and listening to music playing in the background. It reminds me of many of my long nights spent searching for truth and the reasons why and what for. I can’t say that I have any answers for the questions I’ve asked, past or present. I don’t know why I came to be the person that I am, or why things worked out the way that they did. All I know is that life being what it is, a surprising chain of small moments and realizations, my ignorance will have to do. I’m okay with that. I’m content to sit in the dark watching the shadows play along the walls and contemplate my life and my relationship with the world, the universe, and the existence of God. I’ve waited and waited for God to believe in me, figuring then we’d have something to talk about, but have never heard from him. And I have tried and tried to sell my soul but found that there were never any takers. And I’m pretty sure it’s on a street corner somewhere, in a small desert town, staring out at the sun

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FIRE!

Okay, so the subject is a little more frightened than I was, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I had a rather unpleasant awakening today. So I woke up this morning, and could have sworn that I smelled burning wood. Yeah. Not good. I wander out in to the backyard and lo and behold, there’s smoke wafting upward and away from the side of the house. Eek. I grab the garden hose and completely douse the entire place with water. I mean, I completely drenched the house, the bushes, the ground, the patio, … everything! When I’m done and there’s a huge puddle of water standing in the previously steaming ground, I can still see smoke creaking out the sides. I’m beginning to wonder if it has turned in to an underground fire (NOT good). So I grab a rake and upturn all of the ground and mud and churn up the first five or six inches of soil as much as possible. I spray it down again and leave an even larger puddle. It’s been about half an hour since then, and no more smoke… but I’m waiting. Now to figure out how the fuck all of

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