This is. Me. Looking Back. At what I am today.
This is who I am, unchanged...
This is what I am, looking back...
This is where I am, facing forward...
This is when I am, one day at a time...
This is why I am, soul searching and searching my soul...
This is how I am, take it or leave it.
Taking a moment in time, I think of who I am and what tomorrow will bring.
I don't know anymore.
I'm gonna ramble on because I can't sleep and I just feel like rambling. This isn't your normal, regularly scheduled inane chatter from the mind of a hyper minded 28 yr old, but more of just sitting back on this chair reflecting on some things I hold inside and normally at the end of it all end up saying Eh, FUCK IT. Between this paragraph/thought until the last paragraph, i'm gonna reflect, smile, laugh, bitch, reminisce... considering it's a long ass post.... you decide. but in the end, i'm thankful.
Growing up in that small town was an experience. Started out in private/catholic school. been an altar server since i was about 6. raised by nuns. my influences. moved to public school in the 6th grade. Had my fair share of getting bullied, cuz i was the shortest, til I learned it was ok to beat the shit out of someone the next day cuz they did it to you the previous day. funny how that goes. only one other person didn't learn their lesson. no one already liked his punk ass. so he picks on and jumps me. have no idea how, but i had everyone and their older sibling asking how they could and should get him back for me. i wonder what ever happened to him now.
In high school, it was an adventure. An experience, such as what everyone else esperiences, with cliques and all. fucking preppy's. always thought they were better than everyone else. better than the band, the choir, the theater folks, and everyone who weren't preps. fuckers. ah, but that was then. i made some really great friends, some i still stay in touch with now. got over stage fright when i got on that stage the first time. Vernon always put me as comic relief, it was surprising that i get noticed when i did the serious parts. thespian troupe 1 3 4 2. many fond memories. many lessons learned. and still more to learn.
When I was younger, I could tell you...when I turn 18, etc., etc., etc.
I turned 18. Freshman in college. My friends and I went to Chuck E. Cheese for that birthday. Accidentally elbowed Chuck E. Eh, they sang happy birthday, then Jason spun me around then all I see is this grey fur in front of me, so I go aaaaah! and well.... you get the idea. 18. La di fuckin da. Heh heh. Came and went. Uneventful. To some degree.
My first shot of Jack Daniel's was in Starrla's dormroom back in 94/95. I'd been burned out from high school and was more or less just going through the motions of the concept of school. I had anticipated 19, and when it arrived... I didn't greet it with all the fanfare. I'd just gotten over some form of heartbreak. Well... no. It was ongoing. All remnants of 1995, that one semester, I've held onto a few precious ones that can make me smile. No, I can't say that it was the lowest anyone could be as far as disposition on life, considering a whole lot of others have gone down a more trying path. No. But for me, this was a depressive instant-gratification seeking friend needing moment that just ... came and went unanswered. I knew afterwards what i would look for when it came to friends. I may not hold grudges, but my memory is unrelenting. Hyprocrisy, i say. To my own self. But I readily admit to it. Exposure to a breakdown of trust that year, as well as other torpedoes on my little happy boat knocked some good sized holes...but maybe some remaining hope kept me afloat.
Odd. maybe that's why they say Hope Floats. 19, you were a fucked up year, and I'm glad you've come and gone.
i can't even remember 20. 1996. shit, i can't remember. i should have had a journal then. all i know is, i thought to myself, i done fucked up and i sure as hell don't wanna anymore. So i got my act together and started giving a damn again. Sometimes you just need to get your ass kicked hard enough in a direction that you eventually go on and git and learn your lesson.
and now, a pre-emptive shut ass. Just in case you've bothered to read this far...and have a smart comment about my next deal. Just kidding. i finally got the nerve to ask Suraida out in sept 97. i'm thinking it was sept. 25, 97. took my ass long enough to ask her out. yeah, i'm a late bloomer. it'd been 2 semesters. my first date. not including high school prom. it was fun, got to walk along the beach, went to putt-putt and chatted the entire night through. had pizza too. good times, good times. 21. heh. it was in 1997 i believe that i first met KC. hell broke loose. we broke it. :) i'd started making a close knit group of friends within my major and graduating class, while still keeping close a few that i started out with. I actually owe my fortune of this job because of some advice from one of them. Things happen for a reason. 2000, she said go to the job fair. i went. 2001, we had layoffs... i got her transferred to a new position so she wasn't let go. she's still an older sister to me. oh yeah. and smoking is bad for you, especially when you kick a soccerball around. 21 was fun.
2000. i'd worked for the Colonel and the Admiral too a little over a year. Colonel knew I was looking for another job, and he encouraged it, but instilled some good lessons before i left the Center for Ports and Waterways. for an italian, he was weird simply cuz he could not stand garlic. but he did take out the office for margarita dinners.
24 yrs old and counting. finally settled in to the really, real world. carefree, but focused. my coworkers had started me off since day 1, agreeing that instead of having one assigned mentor, that i would be trained via the village approach. then some fuckers decided it was a grand idea to take inventions of wonder and turn them into weapons of mass destruction. so maybe we didn't find any if at all WMD abroad. When you can take a commercial plane and use it to kill many, anything can be construed as a WMD. it was a strange morning. got up early, even dressed up with a long sleeved shirt, tie, etc. we got the report of the first and second planes.
after we were released, some of us met up at Hooters for lunch. It was surreal that day, even as i went to class that night. but after class, i went home, ... i never cried at funerals, or whatever. but that night was the first time i think i ever opened up myself to the idea of mortality and loss of a loved one. the following days and weeks at work were numbing...just go to work and be done with it.
fast forward to today. right now. because it's late, and this is the point that i mentioned earlier where i say Fuck it. things happen for a reason. we'd left one place looking for a dream. my folks held onto that dream and worked hard. two jobs a piece, and taking classes at night to hope for a better living. it paid off.
i remember growing up and salvation army and goodwill were wonderful. they still are, and we try to give back. maybe that's part of the reason the child in me is the way it is now is because it did not have the means then. things happen for a reason. daily. whenever. i've got some issues, i've got some complaints. but in the long run... i'm thankful. i'm content. i've got my loved ones. i've got my friends. i've got some form of health. mental and physical. they, these people and experiences, have taken me and have helped make me what I am today.
And I'm thankful. Moreso now that I can appreciate it all much better than an 18 or 19 yr old me could ever imagine.
This is what I am, looking back...
This is where I am, facing forward...
This is when I am, one day at a time...
This is why I am, soul searching and searching my soul...
This is how I am, take it or leave it.
Taking a moment in time, I think of who I am and what tomorrow will bring.
I don't know anymore.
I'm gonna ramble on because I can't sleep and I just feel like rambling. This isn't your normal, regularly scheduled inane chatter from the mind of a hyper minded 28 yr old, but more of just sitting back on this chair reflecting on some things I hold inside and normally at the end of it all end up saying Eh, FUCK IT. Between this paragraph/thought until the last paragraph, i'm gonna reflect, smile, laugh, bitch, reminisce... considering it's a long ass post.... you decide. but in the end, i'm thankful.
Growing up in that small town was an experience. Started out in private/catholic school. been an altar server since i was about 6. raised by nuns. my influences. moved to public school in the 6th grade. Had my fair share of getting bullied, cuz i was the shortest, til I learned it was ok to beat the shit out of someone the next day cuz they did it to you the previous day. funny how that goes. only one other person didn't learn their lesson. no one already liked his punk ass. so he picks on and jumps me. have no idea how, but i had everyone and their older sibling asking how they could and should get him back for me. i wonder what ever happened to him now.
In high school, it was an adventure. An experience, such as what everyone else esperiences, with cliques and all. fucking preppy's. always thought they were better than everyone else. better than the band, the choir, the theater folks, and everyone who weren't preps. fuckers. ah, but that was then. i made some really great friends, some i still stay in touch with now. got over stage fright when i got on that stage the first time. Vernon always put me as comic relief, it was surprising that i get noticed when i did the serious parts. thespian troupe 1 3 4 2. many fond memories. many lessons learned. and still more to learn.
When I was younger, I could tell you...when I turn 18, etc., etc., etc.
I turned 18. Freshman in college. My friends and I went to Chuck E. Cheese for that birthday. Accidentally elbowed Chuck E. Eh, they sang happy birthday, then Jason spun me around then all I see is this grey fur in front of me, so I go aaaaah! and well.... you get the idea. 18. La di fuckin da. Heh heh. Came and went. Uneventful. To some degree.
My first shot of Jack Daniel's was in Starrla's dormroom back in 94/95. I'd been burned out from high school and was more or less just going through the motions of the concept of school. I had anticipated 19, and when it arrived... I didn't greet it with all the fanfare. I'd just gotten over some form of heartbreak. Well... no. It was ongoing. All remnants of 1995, that one semester, I've held onto a few precious ones that can make me smile. No, I can't say that it was the lowest anyone could be as far as disposition on life, considering a whole lot of others have gone down a more trying path. No. But for me, this was a depressive instant-gratification seeking friend needing moment that just ... came and went unanswered. I knew afterwards what i would look for when it came to friends. I may not hold grudges, but my memory is unrelenting. Hyprocrisy, i say. To my own self. But I readily admit to it. Exposure to a breakdown of trust that year, as well as other torpedoes on my little happy boat knocked some good sized holes...but maybe some remaining hope kept me afloat.
Odd. maybe that's why they say Hope Floats. 19, you were a fucked up year, and I'm glad you've come and gone.
i can't even remember 20. 1996. shit, i can't remember. i should have had a journal then. all i know is, i thought to myself, i done fucked up and i sure as hell don't wanna anymore. So i got my act together and started giving a damn again. Sometimes you just need to get your ass kicked hard enough in a direction that you eventually go on and git and learn your lesson.
and now, a pre-emptive shut ass. Just in case you've bothered to read this far...and have a smart comment about my next deal. Just kidding. i finally got the nerve to ask Suraida out in sept 97. i'm thinking it was sept. 25, 97. took my ass long enough to ask her out. yeah, i'm a late bloomer. it'd been 2 semesters. my first date. not including high school prom. it was fun, got to walk along the beach, went to putt-putt and chatted the entire night through. had pizza too. good times, good times. 21. heh. it was in 1997 i believe that i first met KC. hell broke loose. we broke it. :) i'd started making a close knit group of friends within my major and graduating class, while still keeping close a few that i started out with. I actually owe my fortune of this job because of some advice from one of them. Things happen for a reason. 2000, she said go to the job fair. i went. 2001, we had layoffs... i got her transferred to a new position so she wasn't let go. she's still an older sister to me. oh yeah. and smoking is bad for you, especially when you kick a soccerball around. 21 was fun.
2000. i'd worked for the Colonel and the Admiral too a little over a year. Colonel knew I was looking for another job, and he encouraged it, but instilled some good lessons before i left the Center for Ports and Waterways. for an italian, he was weird simply cuz he could not stand garlic. but he did take out the office for margarita dinners.
24 yrs old and counting. finally settled in to the really, real world. carefree, but focused. my coworkers had started me off since day 1, agreeing that instead of having one assigned mentor, that i would be trained via the village approach. then some fuckers decided it was a grand idea to take inventions of wonder and turn them into weapons of mass destruction. so maybe we didn't find any if at all WMD abroad. When you can take a commercial plane and use it to kill many, anything can be construed as a WMD. it was a strange morning. got up early, even dressed up with a long sleeved shirt, tie, etc. we got the report of the first and second planes.
after we were released, some of us met up at Hooters for lunch. It was surreal that day, even as i went to class that night. but after class, i went home, ... i never cried at funerals, or whatever. but that night was the first time i think i ever opened up myself to the idea of mortality and loss of a loved one. the following days and weeks at work were numbing...just go to work and be done with it.
fast forward to today. right now. because it's late, and this is the point that i mentioned earlier where i say Fuck it. things happen for a reason. we'd left one place looking for a dream. my folks held onto that dream and worked hard. two jobs a piece, and taking classes at night to hope for a better living. it paid off.
i remember growing up and salvation army and goodwill were wonderful. they still are, and we try to give back. maybe that's part of the reason the child in me is the way it is now is because it did not have the means then. things happen for a reason. daily. whenever. i've got some issues, i've got some complaints. but in the long run... i'm thankful. i'm content. i've got my loved ones. i've got my friends. i've got some form of health. mental and physical. they, these people and experiences, have taken me and have helped make me what I am today.
And I'm thankful. Moreso now that I can appreciate it all much better than an 18 or 19 yr old me could ever imagine.
posted by Bum at 00:45
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