Lost Memories

Moments in life can stain our memories. No matter how far back they are, it's something that we can re-live like they happened yesterday.

These are the moments that derail us from the tracks that we are following in this life. They are the events that were the game changers that made us who we are in this moment of time. If it wasn't for those moments, would we be the same person we presently are?

It was a sunny day. What a great day for Homecoming. We were driving over to see the TP decorations that we had made the night before. 2 friends in the front cab, 3 of us up against the cab in the back and 1 friend leaning on the back tail. The road was quite curvy and we were passing a car. We take the turn faster than we should and life warps into this slow-motion state. I shout, "Ooohh Ssshhhhiiii...." I don't remember finishing the phrase before I realize that we are going into a barrel roll. 

 Life seemed to freeze. I thought to myself, “This truck is rolling, I am still in this and (I feel the presence of my friend right next to me) shit, so is Matt. I keep envisioning that my head will be the filling of this truck/ground sandwich at any moment now, and I have only one option. Grab Matt, throw him out and hope we survive this. I close my eyes and carried out my plan. It’s weird, I have this feeling of floating. The feeling was longer than expected. When a truck is rolling and your flying in the air, you don’t expect to “float”. I must have blacked out for a bit as I wake up when my body bounces off the green grass. I spring up to my feet fast enough to see the final roll of the pick up truck and yell, “PETER! PETER!” I see his giant arms pulling himself out of the cab and a sign of relief comes over me as everything fades to black.

Over the years, I haven’t forgot a single step in those few seconds, but everything before and after is a complete blur. I have no idea what we were doing before or where we went after. I’m assuming we went to the hospital but I have no clue. I guess the only thing I do remember is a mental picture from overhead. Of the four of us in the ambulance, Peter, Matt, Billy, and I. Which Billy was the only one in the stretcher, bitching about why he had to be the only one strapped down and not any of us. I remember he was more pissed about losing his hat than anything else. 

I bought you the same hat that you lost and was going to give it to you. I was wearing it and you said, "fucker. I like it." And you wouldn't take it. I guess that writes it. I'll make sure to not lose this one in a field. 

Happy Birthday Billy. Miss You Bud.

Much Love

A Toast to Charles Warnke.

I found this quote which I have to share. It's a little long but it is (in my mind) worth reading.

You should date an illiterate girl. Date a girl who doesn’t read. Find her in the weary squalor of a Midwestern bar. Find her in the smoke, drunken sweat, and varicolored light of an upscale nightclub. Wherever you find her, find her smiling. Make sure that it lingers when the people that are talking to her look away.  

Engage her with unsentimental trivialities. Use pick-up lines and laugh inwardly. Take her outside when the night overstays its welcome. Ignore the palpable weight of fatigue. Kiss her in the rain under the weak glow of a streetlamp because you’ve seen it in a film. Remark at its lack of significance. 

Take her to your apartment. Dispatch with making love. Fuck her. Let the anxious contract you’ve unwittingly written evolve slowly and uncomfortably into a relationship. Find shared interests and common ground like sushi and folk music. Build an impenetrable bastion upon that ground. Make it sacred. Retreat into it every time the air gets stale or the evenings too long. Talk about nothing of significance. Do little thinking.  

Let the months pass unnoticed. Ask her to move in. Let her decorate. Get into fights about inconsequential things like how the fucking shower curtain needs to be closed so that it doesn’t fucking collect mold. Let a year pass unnoticed. Begin to notice.  

Figure that you should probably get married because you will have wasted a lot of time otherwise. Take her to dinner on the forty-fifth floor at a restaurant far beyond your means. Make sure there is a beautiful view of the city. Sheepishly ask a waiter to bring her a glass of champagne with a modest ring in it. 

When she notices, propose to her with all of the enthusiasm and sincerity you can muster. Do not be overly concerned if you feel your heart leap through a pane of sheet glass. For that matter, do not be overly concerned if you cannot feel it at all. If there is applause, let it stagnate. If she cries, smile as if you’ve never been happier. If she doesn’t, smile all the same.  

Let the years pass unnoticed. Get a career, not a job. Buy a house. Have two striking children. Try to raise them well. Fail frequently.  

Lapse into a bored indifference. Lapse into an indifferent sadness. Have a mid-life crisis. Grow old. Wonder at your lack of achievement. Feel sometimes contented, but mostly vacant and ethereal. Feel, during walks, as if you might never return or as if you might blow away on the wind.  

Contract a terminal illness. Die, but only after you observe that the girl who didn’t read never made your heart oscillate with any significant passion, that no one will write the story of your lives, and that she will die, too, with only a mild and tempered regret that nothing ever came of her capacity to love.  

Do those things, god damnit, because nothing sucks worse than a girl who reads. Do it, I say, because a life in purgatory is better than a life in hell. Do it, because a girl who reads possesses a vocabulary that can describe that amorphous discontent of a life unfulfilled—a vocabulary that parses the innate beauty of the world and makes it an accessible necessity instead of an alien wonder. 

A girl who reads lays claim to a vocabulary that distinguishes between the specious and soulless rhetoric of someone who cannot love her, and the inarticulate desperation of someone who loves her too much. A vocabulary, goddamnit, that makes my vacuous sophistry a cheap trick.  

Do it, because a girl who reads understands syntax. Literature has taught her that moments of tenderness come in sporadic but knowable intervals. A girl who reads knows that life is not planar; she knows, and rightly demands, that the ebb comes along with the flow of disappointment. A girl who has read up on her syntax senses the irregular pauses—the hesitation of breath—endemic to a lie.  

A girl who reads perceives the difference between a parenthetical moment of anger and the entrenched habits of someone whose bitter cynicism will run on, run on well past any point of reason, or purpose, run on far after she has packed a suitcase and said a reluctant goodbye and she has decided that I am an ellipsis and not a period and run on and run on.  

Syntax that knows the rhythm and cadence of a life well lived. Date a girl who doesn’t read because the girl who reads knows the importance of plot. She can trace out the demarcations of a prologue and the sharp ridges of a climax. She feels them in her skin. The girl who reads will be patient with an intermission and expedite a denouement.  

But of all things, the girl who reads knows most the ineluctable significance of an end. She is comfortable with them. She has bid farewell to a thousand heroes with only a twinge of sadness. Don’t date a girl who reads because girls who read are storytellers.  

You with the Joyce, you with the Nabokov, you with the Woolf. You there in the library, on the platform of the metro, you in the corner of the café, you in the window of your room. You, who make my life so goddamned difficult. The girl who reads has spun out the account of her life and it is bursting with meaning. She insists that her narratives are rich, her supporting cast colorful, and her typeface bold. You, the girl who reads, make me want to be everything that I am not.  

But I am weak and I will fail you, because you have dreamed, properly, of someone who is better than I am. You will not accept the life of which I spoke at the beginning of this piece. You will accept nothing less than passion, and perfection, and a life worthy of being told. So out with you, girl who reads. Take the next southbound train and take your Hemingway with you. 

Or, perhaps, stay and save my life. 

- Charles Warnke

The Secret to Life, Aye?

My City's Filthy: Minneapolis

Entertainment. The sole provider and destroyer of this small community of humanity this part of the galaxy has seen. Mixing up the needs and wants of the human race as we all desperately find meaning for the reason we breathe.

There we were, freezing our asses off because we were too cool for jackets in the middle of December. Jake and I were waiting in line to get into First Avenue while listening to a sidewalk poet preach a familiar beat when my friend quietly says, "Dude, He sounds a lot like this rapper." Whipping out his phone and plays a youtube clip.

Modern Technology has helped in many ways with benefits ranging from all areas and industries. But yet it's holding most of us back from achieving anything and everything that we've ever wanted.

Some kid shouts, "This is the Will-Call line..." I turn to my friend, "!@#$" Are you telling me, we've stood in this line for nothing. Dashing to the front, we realize we could have just walked in and handed them a ticket. [Not the greatest moment, I've had] 

As technology advances, gadgets become more accessible to the public while creating a "more connected" social scene. While all I seem to come across is the public looking at their iphone, ipad, kindle, nook, etc., indulging in some other place than where they currently reside.

We "B-Line" it straight to the merch table. "Dude! I hope they still have enough shirts left." Thankfully, we both get to experience a sign of relief as we snag a "My City's Filthy Minneapolis" Tee.

As we continue to stay integrated into this internet "life-like" connection, the easier it is to keep up with friends. How cool is it to be able to stay in touch with people around the world, let alone the people that live miles away? I think it's the greatest invention since sliced bread.

Heading up the stairs, seeing the entire general admission was awe inspiring. Just that brilliant positive energy. This is going to be a great show. Champagne, Champagne, kicks it off. Everyone in the room gets to witness the talent the backup man has as he multi-tasks with the laptop, keyboard, guitar, drums, and even a cowbell.

But as we advance through this world, we seem to indulge into the using the easiest form of communication. Texting/Instant Messaging.

"Shit. I just remembered, we gotta get down there to fight through the crowd" I turn to Jake. "Macklemore is almost up. Alright, Game Plan. Let's do it, push our way up to the front. See you on the other-side." 

Using these streams of communication, the phrase, "Lost in Translation" couldn't be more perfect. We no longer hear words, we see words. We can't comprehend the tone when a satellite blasts our phone with a text. We spend so much time laughing, yet we barely ever hear it or feel it. We read it in symbols and letters: "LOL, HAHA, 哈哈 etc."

Mid-set, a humbling-serious tone seems to overcast the room. Learning from past and present, we learn a little about our favorite artist and how much work he has put in. The dedication that it took... No, that was needed to bring his dream to become a reality. He names off a book, Outliers - Malcolm Gladwell. Instantly, I make a note to myself as Malcolm Gladwell wrote on of my favorite books, Blink. Then he blasts a few mad-skilled hip-thrusts as the lights begin to dim on the stage. All of a sudden,  The Loud Speakers Ignite With Passion

This master of poetry and words, simply offers passion, skillfully placed words, and emotion that I can not portray. Marshall "Soulful" Jones - Touchscreen (Thanks, Jake)

Hot and sweaty dancing. How can you not want to dance to this song. This crowd, this scene explodes with emotions. Happiness, Excitement, Passion are just a few that are easily seen from all the pearly-white smiles that cover the #sharkfacegang. Positivity flows through everyone that can hear or witness this performance. This is what we need to be experiencing everyday. (I guess this is where the saying, "I get high off Life" comes from.)

As technology brings us closer together yet farther apart. I can not disregard the fact that technology has brought us so many benefits. It has improved every aspect in this world and will only help this world prosper by spreading the knowledge that this tiny rock has to offer. 

Epic. A very overused word. Yet, there is not a single word that can explain how amazing this concert is. The creativity, the hard work, and the passion this man has put into his music was an awe inspiring experience. 

TED, also know as TED.com, is a site that displays inspirational people who are creating inventions and ideas that will better this planet as the years pass. The best part is that these talented people share a different thought process, explain different psychologies of culture or people, and most importantly, have the ability to introduce people to new experiences that are available in this world. 

Technology can save us or can destroy us. Some say, "Moderation" is key, but maybe... We just have to ponder, Do we own technology or does technology own us? 

Cherrio & Much Love

Hello, Your Doctor Will Now See You...

Twenty-Twelve. Who would have thought, that this may in fact be the last year of existence. Well I guess if you believe the Mayans or maybe some other ancient civilization, who have held the common belief that they built all of those magnificent structures, but yet couldn't understand that man could tame and ride a horse, nor invent a weapon of self defense better than bows and arrows. I will have to stick with my gut and believe that the only thing that will happen on December 22nd will be me waking up with a giant headache from one-too-many-shots.  

With the final year approaching, I thought it'd be appropriate that I spend it somewhere I've never been. Sunny Arizona. With my future student-doctor-friend Kyle. Spending a few days in his luxury apartment complete with scenic view, pool, spa, and enough sight seeing to keep even a young lad like me occupied. Of course, since he is studying to be a doctor, I was lucky enough to meet all his lovely and smart doctor friends. What a change of scenery.  

Ok. Maybe that last sentence was said with a hint... of sarcasm. Growing up, I've always had this perception that everyone that becomes a doctor or even goes to graduate school is super intelligent and that I nor anyone I know, would compete with that kind of intelligence level. My entire life I've never really met any doctor on a social level other than those doctor appointments that I always dread going to. Well for the first time, I met some future-doctors. Smart? Yes. Intelligent? Of course. The problem. I have this fear which is, all they know is their field of study. Am I wrong? Most likely, but... 

I have some people in my life. That may never be credited as the smartest or the most intelligent. But I admire them because I believe they are the smartest bunch of folks I've ever met. Why? They talk from experience. Talk from making so many mistakes that they experienced something. Figured it out the hard way and grasped how this life as we know it works. They don't have a college degree nor do people refer them as Dr.  

They are just normal people like you and I. And that is what I thought of most of the people I met that were studying to be doctors and what-not. They are just normal people that have chosen the path to focus their studies on a certain field for a couple of years. Dedication. It's not always about talent, but how much dedication you have for something.  

But from what I experienced, it's not always the right kind of dedication. My future-doctor-friend, has the right dedication. The one that wants to improve the industry, that is genuinely intrigued by the eye and all it's features, and most of all, doesn't give a fuck about the money nor the prestige. That's the scary part. My friend is few and far between. 

I believe that everyone has the potential to achieve the perceived "smartness and intelligence" level that they hold of doctors but we as humans can only achieve what we believe we can achieve. We, ourselves are the only thing holding us back from reaching what we want most in life. Self-doubt, Ego, hesitation, etc... destroys us from following the path we really want to.  

It all comes down to... how bad you want something. How much you are willing to give up, so that someday you will achieve that one thing you hold dear. Some of us don't want it as bad as we want to party. Most of us don't even want it more than we want to sleep! It's not the smartest people that make it big, it's the people that work the hardest, that don't give up because their opportunity could pass at any moment! 

We may perceive others to be smarter or more intelligent than us, but believe that you can be just as or even more. In the end, this world is all about fighting your own fears and doubts.

Much Love and may your 2012 Resolutions be nothing more than a hiccup in this crazy journey.


PS: You are Intelligent and Beautiful. Please don't forget that. 

"Before you diagnose yourself 

with depression or low self esteem, 

first make sure that you are not, in fact, 

just surrounding yourself with assholes."

- William Gibson -

Ding. You Have Arrived at You're Destination

Life. It's complicated. At times, it's difficult and a pain in the ass. But yet, it's utterly amazing and beautiful all at the same time.

There are so many paths that we can make. Every single situation, decision, and action opens up a brand new highway of choices in our life. Heading towards our main destination we all hit a few rough patches, detours, and encounter a couple burnt bridges, as we all try to figure out how to live the best life. For most this is a scary trip as this one doesn't come with proper guidance. No GPS or Google Maps for this wonderful trip. We all have to rely on our friends, family, strangers, and ourselves for guidance through this journey. 

This is a topic that has been troubling me for quite a while. I think back to High School, where I thought I'd be done with college, have a great job, almost married, and have a good path on life, by the time I hit the age of 23. As of right now, I have accomplish about... Zero, of those goals. (Well I guess I am done with college, technically, only officially if WSU pulls their head out of there asses and figures out the paperwork. but that could be a whole rant in itself) I have actually backed tracked in my youthful-18 yr. old prophecy as I am currently living under the same roof as my amazing parents. (That wasn't in the whole master plan) Yet, it is really awesome not to pay rent, so that I can pay off those pesky student loans. 

I think I've realized my huge fault in that prophecy of mine. I didn't realize that growing up (slash) being grown up [as what I thought it would be at age 18] would be like this. I didn't expect that after 5 years, I'd still have no idea what it means to be "grown up". To still be listening to the same 3 musicians that I loved when I was in 6th grade and to still have no clue on what I want to do in this life. (Correction: I do know, what I don't want to do. Things like: climb the corporate ladder, indulge myself in items that I don't need, fall in love for all the wrong reasons, and be grounded from seeing other places in this world.) 

I've realized why the Slow Down poem hit so deep. [Yeah, just referenced my own blog in another blog...] It wasn't all about what I thought I should be: writer this, book that, or I should be there by now. It was about me, taking a step back, being happy with what I'm doing and where I'm at. Realizing that everything is just a stepping stone in place to help me reach that next destination.  

Back to my huge fault of rushing through life to get to that "better and awesome" moment of being "grown up". I wanted to see how old 23 actually was. Am I just lying to myself to make this all better? or is 23 still some-what young? So I did a quick Google search on the oldest person. It brought up a woman that hit the age of 122. DOB: 1875 

I was born about 132 years after her. If I'm not mistaken, Health Science, Medical Treatments, and Living Conditions have improved about 10-fold since her time. This makes me feel a bit relaxed because I've made a new goal. I will out live this amazing woman. That means that I have about 100 years left in me and that at age 23, I don't need to get all stressed at the fact of not knowing what I want to do the rest of my life. At the age of 123, I hope that I will understand that life is just about family, friends, strangers, and my dog. 

• 2 years ago, I wouldn't have thought I could speak and understand Mandarin Chinese while living in a foreign country.

• 3 years ago, I wouldn't have thought I could play, sing, and create music on a guitar.

• 3 months ago, I wouldn't have thought I'd be learning Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and Muay Thai.

Just a few example and it makes me realize that... I haven't had time to comprehend what this world has to offer or what I could cross paths with. There is no possible way that I can plan my life out as I'm still learning about all the great possibilities out there. Even the possibility that, what lays in my future hasn't even been invented yet or thought of, could be true.  

For me, I feel I need to sit back, invest in myself, and create a few new goals. (If you are like me) Don't worry, we have time my friends. Don't rush it, take it slow and enjoy it (the good and bad) We may never get this chance again.


Much Love

I can't find the best in all of this

But I'm always looking out for you

Cause you're the one I miss

And it's driving me crazy

blink 182 - After Midnight

Just Another Night

There I was. Calmly walking through this white pastel hallway leading up to an smooth wooden door. I wasn't sure on why I felt so confident walking in, but there was a strange feeling of a need to bust down this door with a swift kick. Bang, one forward kick breaks the door free as I feel a rush of adrenaline pump through my body. As I proceed forward I encounter two massively-built biker dudes, who are taken back but are now ready to defend themselves. 

I have this recollection, that I was warned on how dangerous these two thugs were going to be and how infamous they were at man-handling people to where trying to identifying them was nearly impossible. Somehow, that didn't stop me from carrying forward as I narrowly ducked out of the way of the incoming fury of punches.

At that moment I remembered all my training from before, the long hard hours spent learning armed combat as I became excellent at dodging and countering two human giants. I realize I have an onyx-colored metal object in my hand as I swiftly duck under a right cross and counter with a hammering blow. I can hear the thick grunt of pain coming from the direct hit and out of the corner of my eye I see his friend coming to my left. I swing my hips and impede his attack with a quick reverse kick to his inner thigh. Stunned with his legs spread apart and trying to gain balance, I make the terrible decision to attempt a golf swing straight to his groin.

There it was. The look of disgust, pain, and how could you on his scarred face as I connect with my risky golf swing. There's a moment where it's freeze frame and I'm starring him straight in the eyes and calmly speaking Mandarin Chinese. As I drop the metal object and fly by the two guards, I quickly search the drawers for the item I'm desperately searching for.

Ah ha! I found it, what it is, I'm not sure but I've decided not to stay long enough for ogre #1 and #2 to regain consciousness. As I sprint back out the door where I expect to run back through the pastel hallway, I break through the bright light and find myself in a giant mall filled with thousands of shoppers. 

There I was, desperately trying to understand this change of scenery as I'm being chased by tons of people in black suits. I find myself running in slow motion through hallways, stairwells, random doors to try and get away. Each floor has a different color code reminding me that I need to keep moving or else these people are going to catch me and my gut feeling tells me it won't be friendly. 

That's the moment where I find myself running towards a quaint coffee shop that connects 4 different corridors in this giant mall. My fear of these secret agents die and it is replaced with nervousness and I become very hesitant to continue towards this place. Nearing closer I realize I recognize this mystery girl, who is eagerly waiting for me to relieve her of the two drinks in front of her. 

 There I was. Sitting opposite of her, shaky knees, sweaty hands and all. Nervous and scared to really tell her what I thought of everything. Just as she finished speaking and I was about to reply, I feel a slight tempo change as time began to slow down. I have two thoughts in my head, do I tell her or do I get up so I can use this chair and swing for the fences?

 Before I could even contemplate on each, I was already standing and pivoting with chair-in-hand swinging for the fences. As I'm swinging at whatever is behind me, I realize that the "suits" have caught up with me again. The woman bartender screams in horror as I connect chair to face of the suit sneaking up behind me. The wooden chair explodes into a cloud of splinters as I tell the mystery girl to run!

I can't believe it, this only happens in those really bad kung-fu movies. I'm fighting my way through numerous of 'suits' ducking, dodging, countering, kicking, and punching to my well deserved escape route. In the heat of battle I find myself smiling and laughing as I realize that these Muay Thai classes are actually coming into use. Just as that thought escapes me I get a full-blown wake up punch to the face... 

It almost felt real, as I find myself laying in my bed with a nice cold sweat covering my body. I think to myself, I can't let a dream end like that and return to my earlier state of being... 

 As I return to mayhem, I realize that I am no longer battling the 'suits' from before. I find myself running towards an airport with an important message to tell Ty. I realize that I am running in a grass field with the skyline bright blue in front of me and as I turn to my left I find a city on fire and gunshots are heard from above. I find myself trying to run even faster but I feel as if I'm stuck in slow motion. I can feel myself being out of breathe and the layer of sweat almost feels real as I wipe my forehead. 

I pop open the cabin to this sunflower-yellow-single-seat-plane and prepare to take off. I'm creeping through the hangar and can see people yelling and chasing me while firing off a couple rounds at me. I blast through and start getting up to speed on the runway so that I can escape this place and fulfill my obligations. I start seeing the end of the runway and find myself cursing because I'm not even close to the correct speed. With all my might I pull the controls closer to me with the hopes that I can get this bad boy off the ground and away from this dreadful scene.   "15 feet and I'm out of runway." I think to myself as I close my eyes, curse at Ty for dragging me into this mess and pray that I can survive. 

As I comeback to reality, I quickly toss and turn trying to keep this movie playing in my head...

I'm flying! I can't believe it. I know how to fly an airplane. That's all I could think about as I roam the skies doing hairpin turns and banking left and right. I was in shock and just soaked up the beautiful scenery of baby blue skies and fluffy white clouds. After reaching this nirvana high of flying I realize that I need to deliver this letter to Ty. I decide to reach in my pocket and read what I risked my life for. The moment I open the letter...

 I find myself, fending off the bright light and loud noises as my nephew barges into my room firing the nerf guns at me. Thinking to myself, I knew I was going to regret buying those... 

(c) 2011 Dec