Getting to know me....

The reason that I have a wall around my heart is because to some degree, I feel like I won't be liked for who I am.

It's a fear of not being accepted.

If I keep you out, you won't have a chance to hurt me.

Simple.

Here's what I've learned this week in Denver...

I don't have to worry about being accepted by anyone. I am a great person. If you don't see it, it's not my problem.

That simple revelation is liberating.

Over the next couple weeks I'm going to venture out into the real world and be me... I don't have to be you. I can be me. Be me and be loved.

It's all better!!!

Okay... this is going to sound odd...

Many of you aren't going to believe me.

I think my heart is all better.

Seriously.

I am declaring that although my heart has been hard and broken, it's been protecting this really kind, sweet, sensitive caring heart.

That can't be hidden. The first time people meet me it shines through - the character of a really nice person. It's genuine.

(Of course, they also tell me that I'm too nice... but that I shouldn't change a thing)

I admit that I still have this huge wall (or should I say stoney exterior - to keep in theme with this picture) that I have around my true heart that I retreat to occassionally.

That's fine.

But I also open it up for people to let people in. Visiting hours are between 6:30 pm and 10:00 pm nightly... you just have to figure out which time zone... (Come on... you should know by now I have a wicked sense of humor)

Here's to being emotionally healthy.

Cheers!

Startling Revelation # 13

Waking up 1:30 am every morning and not being able to get back to sleep has been good.

It's giving me the opportunity to think.

This thinking uncovered Startling Revelation #13.

I am attracted to the fragile.

I find nothing more beautiful than a woman that is barely keeping it together. I'm drawn to it. Like a moth to a flame. Partially because I believe that in my heart of hearts that I can help them.

But... I'm beginning to recognize that it's not that I love them, but that I love the feeling of being their knight in shining armour.

The good news is, that I'm recognizing this... and I'm learning just to be friend instead.

It's a hard thing to do... but that, is Startling Revelation #13.

Snow in Denver

This picture is from my hotel room window... it's snowing outside.

One of the things that I missed about being in Alabama is that it doesn't really snow down there like where I grew up.

Okay... it doesn't snow in Denver like it does where I grew up. Where I grew up, we would wake up to 3 or 4 feet of snow... daily.

The walk in to work is going to be fun... Hopefully I'll find some cool things to take pictures of on the trip in.

A change of plans...

Okay... there's been a change of plans.

I have decided to put "Love Songs for the Criminally Insane" on hold.

Alot of my musician friends have told me that all of my lyrics have an emotional distance.

Even the smile in this picture is... fake. Unnatural.

I suck.

So, as a creative entity, I am going to write in an attempt to tap into my emotional center.

Wish me luck.

A word from our sponsors...

This blag post is brought to you by our sponsor... Safe Date!

The Thanksgiving holiday was interesting.

I had 3 "safe-dates".

What... you may be asking, "safe-date"?

A safe-date is when you and a super attractive women go out on a date, have a really good time - laughing, joking, talking seriously... all the things that you would do with someone that you're dating... except... you aren't.

There's no kissing, no long embraces... there may be hand holding.

It's like having the emotional connection without having to worry about the stress that goes along with being in a real relationship.

Apparently, I am a great safe-date.

Now, I'll be the first to admit that I am in no way, shape, form or fashion ready to be in a relationship just yet.

I am afraid to be in a relationship.

I don't trust yet.

So until then... for your safe date needs... give me a call at 205-223-....

Happy Thanksgiving

This is my first single Thanksgiving. It's almost 1pm and I'm still in bed. As my ex-wife would testify I am rarely in bed for more than 5 hours... unless I'm ill... or depressed.

No. I am not ill.

Nor am I depressed.

I am... at peace.

I have good friends that care for me. I have a family that loves me.

The only thing that would be perfect would be if I could hang out with my sons. I think I'll call my ex and see if she'll let me come over and hang out with them for a while.

That would be perfect.

There is no harmony...

Admittedly, I am a tough person to love...

(Actually, I was corrected by MS, she said I am easy to love, but a difficult person to receive love from... but I'll have to save that for a different post)

Anyway... E-harmony says they can find a match for anyone. So, out of curiosity... I decided to try them out for myself.

I was honest.

I put in my likes, dislikes, preferences... it was painful... but I did it.

Next, I wanted to see if there was anyone locally that was compatible... so I said... find my match in a 50 mile radius.

For those of you that don't know, I am smack dab in the middle of Alabama.

E-harmony came back with a match!!!

From my home town of Rome, NY.

1 person.

That I went to high school with...

That wouldn't give me the time of day then...

I could just imagine what the "introduction" would have been like.

"Hi... Remember me from high school when I tried to be your friend and you treated me like dirt? Well... I guess you were wrong e-harmony thinks your my perfect match... I hate to be the type to say it, but... I told you so."

I think I'm going to give up on dating.

Social interaction...

It's been a while since I've done anything for me... one of the hobbies that I had was competitive shooting...

One of the local ranges that has rental weapons had a "tactical" match last night.

Even though I haven't competed in 2 years, I thought I would go out and "play".

I got there around 6:30 and we shot until around 9:30.

I came in 10th place out of 15... Better than the 3 Police officers that were there.

Let me see if I can explain this...

The first thing that you're judged on is speed... then accuracy.

From an accuracy perspective, I was the most accurate person there. A perfect score would be "0" - the targets then go -1, -3, then -5 for total a miss. My score was -26... which isn't bad because we shot about 120 rounds of ammunition at 30 targets.

The next closest shooter had a -27, then a -31. So... in terms of accuracy, I was pretty pleased.

From a time perspective for the 4 stages we shot I came in 7th, 6th, 6th and 13th. It was my time on the last stage that really caused me to place higher. It was a long distance shot with a "hostage" forcing you to go for a -0 on a small target. I took 4 extra shots, adding up to 12 seconds - which would have placed me in 6th place over all if I wouldn't have taken the extra shots.

It was a good time... a good mix of people... over all, had a really great time.

WHY???

I know I have friends... I talked with a lot of them over the last few days.

I know my family loves me... they tell me regularly.

I just have one question.

Why do I feel alone?

Alone is the only emotion that I feel regularly.

Depression is easy for me to fight. I embrace it and plod along.

Loneliness is a different fiend. I try to embrace her and she gropes me and sticks her tongue down my throat. Leaving me laying there... violated in a heap on the floor with no one to pick up the pieces.

My next goal... overcome loneliness.

The crunchy truth...

I just got off the phone with my Pastor. We talked for about an hour... it was a good conversation.

He wanted to understand about why our marriage fell apart... what the breakdown was.

Well... here's the crunchy truth.

We were not ready to be married... and probably should not have gotten married.

The truth is, I was trying to break up with you when you told me that you were expecting. The woman that I gave my virginity to was expecting. I asked you to marry me - you said yes... the problems began.

I frequently said that you "didn't like me" - the truth is, you had dreams. There were things that you wanted to accomplish. Things you wanted to prove to yourself that you put on hold in order to try to make family work with me.

I thank you for that. It means a lot that you would try to partner with me in life.

As for me? I always wondered in the back of my head what life may have been like if I married someone else... so maybe I looked at you with a slightly judgemental eye.

I always tried... always cared... always wanted the best for you.

We both made mistakes.

It hurts me because you never bothered to get to know me, especially when I know you so well. It hurts me that you still spit words at me with venom and anger. I always try to be kind. All I've ever asked is that you just listen... I still need your help with some things... just listen. Even if we couldn't work through things while we were married for the sake of the kids can't we try something new? Can't we try to communicate?

My next goal can't be reached without you... we need to cooperate, for the sake of our kids.

Chemistry

I spent a lot of this time talking to MS and YD about chemistry this weekend.

It was a very enlightening conversation.

2 women... 2 vastly different opinions.

One believes in chemistry... that you can tell if you're interested in someone by a kiss or a touch.

The other... believes in attraction... attraction to qualities. The person typefies your ideal mental image of what your interested in... or they don't.

2 vastly different opinions, but the same result.

The decision is made immediately.

Now... this presents an interesting problem... for me. For those of you that know me.

I had my sons this weekend.

It's always hard when they leave to go back to their Mother's.

It makes me... sad.

Alone.

So... I breathe...

Remembering how to fly

I am an optimist... or t least I was.

When I look at the things that I've written I do not see hope.

I see sadness. Hopelessness. Dispair.

I see the walking dead. A person stuck in a snowglobe - an imitation of life.

When did I stop dreaming of flying and start dreaming of rocks - where worms, ants and maggots live?

My next goal? Remembering how to soar.

I just heard from a good friend of mine that her Mother was murdered earlier this month.

My heart goes out to both you and your sister.

I hope your Mom has finally found the peace she's been searching for.

How can you???

A good friend of mine, Tina, came over to the house. We had a blast - I found out that she could play drums (pleasant surprise).

We had a great time - it was a pleasant change from our normal routine wich is hanging out in the toy section of Walmart at 2am laughing and joking around.

Tina is a widow, single Mom of 4. Whenever we get together is't always a pleasant diversion from our lives. She gets to let her hair down... I get to pretend I have hair to let down... all is good.

Okay... so... While we were in my studio she improvised a song that had both of us laughing until the poit of tears. She improvised the perfect stalking song.

So, when we were talking last night, I was telling her about my next CD - Love Songs For the Criminally Insane and you'll never guess what song topic resurface... you got it.

So, we worked on it last night and came up with the hook for the next song...

A dose of reality...

A long time ago I made myself a promise.

I will not lie to myself... ever.

So... while I was sitting here this evening, trying to figure out my life - and I came to a realization.

Regardless of what my words say, my head... and my heart are falling for you.

I understand that it is a losing proposition. I will never be able to change your mind and migrate from the role of friend. And that's a role that I'm content to fill.

In all honesty, from the beginning I knew that we would never be anything but friends, but I held out hope. Hope that by some miracle there would be some transcending miracle that would allow us to explore something more... but that's not the way that my life works.

So... since this is the Thanksgiving season, I am thankful that you're my friend.

Psychiatric help...

I was talking with Mica, a friend of mine that lives in North Carolina.

She said - "You should see a psychiatrist..."

I laughed for a moment, then said - "That would be depressing."

Here's the deal. I have a lot of close friends. They are just scattered around the country. (The distance brings its own safety, I can talk with them without the fear of there being judgemental looks, disapproving stares...)

Therapy would be depressing because it feeds into my primary fear... that the only reason that they would be talking with me was because I'm paying them.

My 2nd goal is to get local friends that I can be open and honest with.

Snow globes and Knights Codes...

I choose to believe that chivalry is not dead.

I have a strong belief in God which strengthens me to make it through the day - even when the path seams dark and insurmountable.

I live my life by a Knights Code in an era of thieves and selfish tyrants.

It's a philosophy that I've grown to rely on and it is so much a part of me that I don't even think about it anymore.

The actions are natural.

Unfortunately, it has also become my crutch.

Lately, I've been trying to find how I feel about things and it's always at an emotional distance. Almost as thought I'm looking at life through a snow globe. I don't know if it's battle weariness or just what's needed for day to day survival.

A few posts ago I was talking about setting up goals - a mission statement - finding a purpose again.

One of my goals is to break free from my snow globe prison.

Anyone have a hammer?

The naked truth

He lay there in bed looking at the ceiling. The lights are on because they are always on. There's enough darkness in his life that keeping the lights on represented some bizarre metaphor that there was actually a taste of hope.

Breathe... keep breathing...

There were no pillows on the bed. During the night he would reach out for one and draw it close for comfort, but there was no love returned... no comfort to be obtained. Strewn across the room randomly they lay as he regretted that somehow he had even isolated himself from his pillows... the last things that he had in his life that even tried to give him comfort.

He held his breath until the sharp pain in his lungs overcame him forcing him to exhale, inhale... breathe.

He was now sleeping 3 hours a night. If he was lucky. Now there was no solace in dreamless sleeps. No peace from his pale existance of a life.

Breathe. Inhaling deeply he let out a yell... then laughed. Laughed because he knew no one would hear.

If he just stopped... stopped showing up would anyone notice? He already knew the answer. It was a social experiment that he had tried before that only reinforced his insignificance in the world. No one really ever notices him when he's gone.

He knew that he didn't matter.

Sweet Inspiration...

As I was recording the song that I wrote this morning so I could actually remember what it sounded like by the time I got home the oddest thing happened.

I was singing the song in a really weird British punk voice.

I was like - "That's insane... why would I ever do such a thing?"

And that's when it struck me...

My next CD is going to be filled with Love Songs and I'm going to call it...

Love Songs for the Criminally Insane

It's not that any of the songs are stalker songs or anything like that... but it would catch your eye... and hopefully the music would get you to stay.

This picture is the working album cover...

My muse spoke to me again this morning. (The fact that I've been up since 2am... again probably has something to do with it... I have got to do something about the fact that I'm sleeping less than 3 hours a night)

I picked up my guitar... started playing... and this is what came out.

----------------------------------------

This crazy mixed up world gets you going

round in circles topsy turvy upside down - emotional roller coaster ride.

But when I touch your hand I know it's gonna be all right.

And when my head feels like it's spinning

like a top down a slide in the rain

will this feeling ever stop?

When I look into your eyes I know it's gonna be all right

Should I laugh or should I cry

curl up in a corner pretend to die

hide my face or find my happy place...

When I feel your warm embrace

I know it's going to be all right.

Maybe I should try that...

My natural inclination is to think that there is something wrong with me...

If someone doesn't want to be my friend or if someone doesn't pick me for their project, give me the promotion or what ever - my basic first instinct is to think that there is something wrong with me.

I then get all kinds of moody and introspective even though it could have been something simple... legitimate.

Is it that I think so little of myself that I have to keep looking... poking... prodding myself to be something that I'm never going to be?

Let me get this out there now...

I am never going to be over 6 feet tall.
I am never going to be a white guy with great hair.

(Had to take a break there... admitting that almost sent me into a panic attack...)

I may never find a community where I fit in.

But there is one thing that I can work on and something that I should try...

Maybe... just maybe I should try to love myself...

Some day.

Emotional Honesty

After I finished up my Emotionally Damaged posts I talked with a couple of my friends last night and we were able to get to a deeper level. A level that I like to call:

The fundamental truth

I don't feel because I hate my ex-wife.

I don't want to... but it's this deep, visceral hatred.

I hate the fact that she doesn't keep me in the loop with what's going on with the boys. (Report Cards, School Activities)

I hate the fact that she plans things for them when it's my weekend.

I hate the fact that she calls last minute asking me to do things.

I hate that she still tries to control my time.

I hate that she comments on how I choose to arrange my house.

I hate the fact that she has my neighbors spying on me.

I hate the fact that she can't be civil, she's always mean.

I hate the fact that she doesn't keep her word.

I hate the fact that when I tell her my travel schedule, she'll have the boys call when I'm away asking me to take them places... even after I've told everyone what my schedule is.

I... hate... her because when I wanted to plan with her to make things better for the boys after the divorce she refused to participate.

I hate her because she got everything that she wanted - and she still wants more.

I hate her.

And I don't want to.

So it's easier not to feel anything.

Br0k3n, bruIsed and damag3d

So... all this came from being asked the question

How do you feel about the fact that I won't date you?

Wow.

Let me see if I can sum things up.

I think I'm fine with the fact that we're working on being friends.

I may be an open book, but I'm sure you can see as clear as day that I'm wounded - I have a lot of safe guards up. I still search for the right words to say.

I am not ready.

I don't know if when/if I will ever be at a point where I can open up my heart to anyone.

All I know is that I want to.

The last time...

I could tell a LOT more stories of brokenness, but I always rebounded after those, so the pain... or lack of pain doesn't come from there.

I do remember the last time that I felt for someone tho.

After we had decided to divorce... once it was final I made the mistake of seeing someone named SK.

It was way too early - so to have a "safe guard" I asked her if we could continue to get to know each other - take 2 years... really get to know each other well.

We used to stay up until the wee hours of the morning talking - getting to know each other - developing a great bond.

I actually had a connection with her.

I was letting down my guard. She is still the only person on the planet that knows more about who I am than anyone else. With her, I was emotionally bare.

The problem was... SK wanted to get married. Immediately. And I wanted to stick with the timeline... further, the divorce wasn't final yet - and I promised myself - promised myself, that I wasn't going to jump into anything.

2 years to date someone isn't irrational.

But it was for SK.

I had this friend... SL. He, more than anything wanted to be married.

They sensed each other in the air... they met.

I remember when she called and told me that they were going to see each other and that she couldn't see me any more.

It felt like a hand reached into my soul and tore it out.

I cried.

It was the type of cry that starts from your belly and bends you over in pain.

I remember sitting across from her telling and watching her tell me that she loved him when I knew it was a lie.

They married 30 days later.

Divorced 16 months after that.

The last time I felt was when she said good bye.

True friends...

I did have a group of true friends that I met in 7th grade. We stayed close friends until graduation.

John Z., Kerri Y., Dana Y. and me... we all stayed really close only losing Kerri to a different set of friends in high school.

Despite what else was going on, we were always close.

After college, Dana Y. got married and became Dana B. we lost contact shortly there after, but she's still in my thoughts. John Z. married one of my neighbors and we shortly lost contact after that.

I'll always have great memories of them... my first real true friends.

Welcome to the family...

Jr. High was interesting in that it was a little more diverse than elementary school. There were 2 black kids in my elementary school... there were at least a dozen at this school.

I remember how they welcomed me.

There was a dance coming up. One day after school a couple of black kids cornered me in the hallway. William C. hit my below the belt, grabbed me by the throat choking me and said...

"You are taking my sister to the dance... aren't you?"

The answer of course... was no.

Not because of the violent afront, but because I wasn't allowed to go.

Even so... based on principle alone I wouldn't have gone with her... but that was my welcome into the family so to speak.

I was disappointed then... but that was a feeling that I was used to by now.

Looking back on it now, I guess I should be flattered. Flattered that Doris C. noticed me. That I was a part of a conversation between her and her brother that inspired such an action. I am sure he was only trying to make her happy.

Compassion

They say that relationally people give what they need.

So... how am I relationally?

I listen.

I give.

I do whatever it takes to make things better.

I genuinely care.

My ex-wife told me that I was emotionally needy.

Perhaps... but at some point... aren't we all?

At arms length

How do I feel about what I've written so far?

Honestly, I don't.

What would it take for me to feel something?

Permission to be weak.

If I knew that there was someone that would hold me, let me get this out... let me deal with this emotionally, I know I would be better.

That's what I loved about Bambi. She would drive half way across the state just to hold my hand. I could put my head on her shoulder, be weak and know that it would be okay. That I wouldn't be judged.

Even when I was married... I didn't have the opportunity to be vulnerable. That safety wasn't there.

But... since it's me... since I have to be my own support system, I'll do what any friend would do in this uncomfortable situation.

Show false bravado. Tell myself that it will be okay. When things get too emotional, glance away uncomfortably.

It annoys me that I'm so detached from these memories...

But I'm in Denver now... 1000 miles from home... I have a job to do while I'm here. So, I'll continue to try to cleanse this wound... but what I think I need is a good cleansing cry.

But that won't happen.

Standing alone...

Elementry school wasn't that bad.

I learned how to play guitar. I was writing songs.

I learned how to play chess. I was good.

I learned binary mathematics and determined that I wanted to be a computer scientist.

I was fluent in American Sign Language.

I was reading at a 12th grade level.

I knew that I was without limitation.

Isolated... at an early age...

So... what happens when you take 1 black kid and put him in a school where he's the only one?

Pain.

They say birds of a feather flock together. And I spent a lot of time feeling like the ugly duckling.

I never got the invitation to participate. I always had to ask. To plead my case... even with people who claimed to be my friends.

2 incidents come to mind that sum up my memories of elementry school...

1) We were in 5th grade. Our art project was to break up into teams and create a film story board, then film a movie. None of my "friends" wanted me to participate.

Every group that I went to gave the same answer.

No.

The feeling was overwhelming. I went over to the counter. Sat down. Pulled my knees into my chest and wept.

2) We were in 6th grade. Lined up to catch the bus home. I was somewhere in the middle of the line when Michael M. pushed me to the back of the line.

"Back of the line, Abdul."

My initial thought was... novel... creative... wrong...

"Dude... I'm not an arab."

"Doesn't matter... you're still a nigger."

I think that's when I hit him.

These were my friends... they helped lay the foundation of why I tend to keep my co-workers and others at arms length.

Learning to be social...

Here are my thoughts from the airplane...

When we moved to Rome, NY from Italy we moved into an incredible lake side community. A lot of families. People actually knew each other and there was a great sense of community there.

I remember my older brothers and sisters really enjoying it and having great friends there.

Here's what I remember:

"Mom... can I go outside?"

"Yes, but don't leave the front yard."

Even in my teenage years... "Mom... can I go outside?"

"Yes, but don't leave the front porch."

Mom had this fear of letting me out of her site. I had to beg to be able to go over peoples houses and I was always forbidden to go into peoples houses or even sleep overs or anything of that nature.

I even thought about wanting to be an Eagle Scout in the Boy Scouts. My scouting career ended with the Arrow of Light. Why? Because after that ceremony, the first Boy Scout meeting was a camp out.

I wasn't allowed to go. Why?

According to my Mom... "Grown men wanting to sleep outside with boys... there's something wrong with that."

Even as an adult... having 3 sons... I would frequently be down on the ground rolling around playing with them - enjoying our time together...

What would Mom say? "You shouldn't play with your children like that..."

The truth is, I have a lot of resentment towards my Mother. My relationship with her is very strained.

She doesn't listen to what I have to say. I'm 38 and she still disapproves of friends of mine. I would love to be able to sit down with her and have a conversation... but she won't ever listen. She always goes into what I should do... before she even understands what I'm talking about.

In all honesty, I would rather not talk with her at all than put up with the frustration.

And that... bothers me.

She wants me to be the little boy on the porch and will never view me as anything other than that.

I think to some degree everyone wants the approval of their Mother... or at least to know that they have her unconditional love.

My Mom says she loves me.

But she doesn't know me.

A needle in a haystack

People talk about how difficult it is to find a needle in a haystack.

I've never looked for a needle in a haystack, but I've felt like a needle in a haystack.

Exactly how does a needle in a haystack feel?

Like everyone around it belongs and like you're this sharp and dangerous thing ready to do harm should an unsuspecting hand land on it.

I grew up in Rome, NY. Population 28,000. I used to say that the population was 49.9% Irish Catholic 49% Italian Catholic, 0.2% other, but in all honesty, that's not exactly true. It was more like 99.99% Irish, German, Polish, Italian... 0.01% other.

I could tell hundreds of stories about being on the outside in a society like that... but I don't want to bore you.

I will pick the ones that I think have shaped me the most.

I'll think about them on the flight and probably post this evening when I arrive in Denver.

Emergency incision!!!

Okay... I'm still in Birmingham. Flight doesn't leave for a few more hours, but I have to make this emergency incision. It's been on my mind all day... So I have to examine this.

I started going to kindergarden in Italy. Since our family "lived on the economy" (not on the air force base, but in the city with the native Italians) getting to and from school for a half day was something that needed to be planned.

The Air Force base used to send a station wagon (official, military blue variety) to pick up Jon W., Vicki H. and me.

I don't remember much about the trips except 2 incidents.

1) Jon, Vicki and I used to play "show me yours and I'll show you mine" on the long trips to and from school. Now, this in itself is actually pretty normal because all kids play the game. The only thing odd about the game was that I remember the driver watching.

I don't remember him saying anything or participating... but I do recall him watching. Sometimes, if I close my face and think hard enough, I can almost make out what his face looks like.

2) I remember a big fight between Jon, Vicki and me. I'm not sure what it was about. I do remember it being awfully violent for 5 year olds. And again... I remember the same driver being there - almost encouraging the activity.

After that, I have no recollection of ever riding with them to school again.

I do have memories of waiting for my older brother and sister after school. But that's it.

I often wonder what really happened and why I can't remember it.

I can count the number of times a year the memories of this incident climbs into my head. Maybe 10 or 15 times a year... every year... for the last 33 years.

Always equally as vivid.

It's usually followed by an intense desire to find Jon and Vicki and find out what ever happened to them... what they remember... but I've never been able to find them.

How do I feel about this?

I don't. It's usually fleeting

It's always just been a memory that I've had. I have never had any feelings associated with it, nor have I ever talked about this with anyone.

Ever.

How do I feel about it now?

I don't.

I've never thought about it or spoke the words a loud.

How do I feel about putting this out there for all to read?

Afraid... no... afraid may be the wrong word.

Disappointed.

To the Death? No...To the pain...

I have got to excise this wound because it is literally killing me.

My world is getting smaller. Myopic. Blurred.

I don't feel and it doesn't bother me. Well, it does cognitively... I think.

I am going to have to probe, cut away, open and expose in order for this to get better.

Consider this a warning... this is not going to be for the faint of heart... you may want to come back later if the sight of brutal honesty bothers you.

Surgery will begin... when I get to Denver.

Right now, I have to scrub and prepare.

Yeah... I'm broken...

I had another non-date with someone that's turning out to be a really good friend. To my closest friends I describe her as follows: "She is me..."

As we sat down tonight over pizza, sharing life stories back and forth it amazes me how many things we have in common.

If I weren't broken, I believe I could actually fall in love with her... but, I don't feel... anything... at all. Mentally, I know that she's a friend. Mentally, I know that I'm comfortable with her. Mentally, I have a good time with her.

But my heart refuses to let there be an emotional bond - even something as simple as an emotional friendship tie. But I know mentally that that emotional friendship would be there if my heart worked.

But... alas, it doesn't. Br0k3n, bruIsed and damag3d so much that all elasticity and capacity to feel is gone.

I'm frustrated... and broken... and tired...

Insights into my world...

Like I've said before, travelling causes you to disconnect with the world - it's the "Out of sight, out of mind postulate."

One of the things that I decided to do was to reach out to a select group of people... some to keep in touch with by e-mail, others by phone.

The whole system broke down this week.

So, I'm in Denver - a great city. Tons of things to do, tons of great places to eat.

But... without a wing man... okay, wing person, I'm lost. I don't do really well in group settings unless I have someone to concentrate on. Then I can move freely and be... comfortable.

So... the fact that I'm spending my weeks in Denver... with no wing-man...excuse me... wing-person it difficult at best.

I'm not looking for sympathy. Just sometimes putting this out there helps me think things through... come up with a better plan. The plan that I had doesn't seam to be working very well.

Apparently, it's true...

Apparently, I'm a chronic and habitual flirter.

It's 8am here in Denver. I made my run to the local stand to get my daily Glaceau Vitamin Water. The flavor of the day was Power-C (dragonfruit - c+taurine).

While I was down there, this really attractive woman was looking at energy drinks trying to find out which one offered the most caffeine, I'm sure.

I excused myself, picked up my water... paused for a second... established eye contact...

Then, in my most suave voice I said -

Vitamins and water... it's all you need

Which happens to be Glaceau's tag line.

At least I got a smile.

Denver ain't so bad...

I had the opportunity to venture outside the safety of D-block last night.

I started walking south down Broadway and eventually hopped on the 0 Bus to South Broadway (where there are more tattoo shops and liquor stores...)

The hike back was about 4 1/2 miles... it was good.

My whole plan was to visit the guitar shops along the way and hang out with fellow musicians which is a great way to unwind.

I stopped by 4 shops and only 1 was cool - Music Gear Guys. The owner Greg was probably the coolest guy I've met since I've been here. We talked for about an hour, then we broke out the guitars and traded riffs back and forth.

The most fun I've had since I've been here.

D-Block may not be that bad after all.

An Ice Cube Story...

I remember reading somewhere that if you wanted nice clear ice cubes that you need to add a touch of vinegar to the water and miraculously create clear ice cubes.

The problem is... they never tell you how much vinegar to add.

So, I added vinegar to my ice cube trays and the result was clear ice cubes.

The problem was that the nice clear ice cubes tasted like... vinegar.

That's a lot like life, I think... people give you a lot of advice, but what ends up looking good may not be palletable. But... just because it doesn't taste good... does that mean you don't try it again?

Note to self...

What is your personal mission statement? What are your goals? What do you want to accomplish in life?

I remember a time when you had plans.

What do you want to accomplish by the end of the year? 6 months from now? What about a year from now?

There's a sense of randomness to you that hasn't been there before. Even with this sophmore CD that you say you're writing... you're waiting for the songs to miraculously pop into your head?

You play a ton of scales on the guitar, but don't bother to learn how to play the guitar.

I remember when you wrote about losing focus.... what happened that caused you to lose focus? I remember when you started the "From Couch to 10K" program and a little change in where you work caused that to go be the wayside.

Pull it together.

By the end of the week I want goals from you.

I want a mission statement.

I want to know what you want out of life by the end of the year.

Remember your mantra "The past is past and there's nothing you can do about it."

What is your purpose? What statement do you want to make with your life?

You talk about being married to an idea... what is that idea?

I am tired of listening to you rant about what could have or should have been. Tell me what is and what you're going to do about it.

Denver history lesson #1

Denver...

When I'm in Denver I work in this conference room... there are usually around 5 of us in the room that's 6 inches wider than a coffin.

This is going to be an interesting week because half the guys are hacking up a lung.

I am gonna have to figure out how to keep that door open...

Anything but love

Okay... I was talking a little earlier about my "masterpiece"

I finished sketching it out. If you want to hear it - you can listen here - Anything but Love

I played piano and did the vocals... I wan to do a full band arrangement, but I'll wait until the whole cd is done.

Opinions welcomed.

The object of my affection...

I think it's time to reveal the object of my affection... kind of.

I was at church one day and I saw this person walk by that was illuminated from the heavens.

A voice spoke to me and said - "she is going to be your next wife."

I spoke back to the voice and said - "she's probably married or dating someone... she's beautiful."

Then I didn't think about it again...

The next Wednesday she stood up in front of the church to talk about the divorce that she was going through.

Okay... I have the answer to my question... but she's way out of my league...

That... and there's another person that I'm really interested in. I would love to get to know her better... but unfortunately, neither see me that way...

What a lovely red...

I wrote this on 11/21/1990

----------------------------

She gazed deeply in his eyes and held him by the hand.
She smiled earnestly and said "I want to understand."
He said "this heart of mine and all the pain it holds?"
And tore his chest open and asked her to behold!
She furrowed her brow, and intently nodded her head.
And with great joy she proclaimed, "What a lovely red."

Imperfect

I... am imperfect.

I have flaws.

I am introspective and moody and anyone that would choose to love me needs to understand that I am insecure.

Anyone that choses to love me will have an uphill battle. I am hard to love.

I have been hurt badly in my past and as a result, it's really hard for me to trust anyone... oddly enough, that includes family and friends. If you pull all of my family and friends together and put them in a room and asked them to describe me, you would hardly think they were talking about the same person. The only thing common way they would describe me is as being kind and nice.

As an imperfect man, I'm interested in an imperfect woman who is perfect for me.

It doesn't mean that I want to date you or marry you... I just want to get to know you.

I know it's scarey.

But trust me... I promise I will be gentle with your heart... if you promise to be gentle with mine.

Loser

There are times when I feel like a loser.

I wrote this incredible song last week. When I got home, I sat down at the keyboard, finished roughing it out. It sounds good... REALLY good.

Probably the best thing that I've ever heard penned from my own hand.

Even though I can play piano and guitar I can't get this song from my head to the recorder.

Under ordinary circumstances, I would call myself a loser and pout, but - ther comes a time when you have to begin to understand... I am not a loser... I just need help.

I'm not used to asking for help. Asking for help is new to me.

The question is... who can I ask?

Despair? Naaaaaaaah...

There are times when you sit down and look at your life and realized that it's spiralling out of control and there's very little that you can do except watch the decent into the maelstrom.

I have this trunk - I like to call it "The Trunk of Hope and Despair" - it has things that I've written, letters I've received, things that mean things to me - from when I was a freshman in high school to just before I got married.

Every once in a while I'll open THE trunk and randomly pull things out. It always amazes me because I can find out something about myself.

Trends in my life that go back to my youth.

Some things never change.

Yesterday I dipped my hand into THE trunk and found hope.

I didn't find hope in the traditional sense of the pie in the sky everything will be all right.

What I found was fight. Belief in an idea. Belief that regardless of what the world says - regardless of what people say or do... I have to live by my convictions. Live with passion and hope for the future regardless of the situation.

So... today? I laugh in the face of despair.