I don't want to be anything other than me.

They say you never know how much something means until it ends,
I never knew how much of an impact One Tree Hill had on my life until I watched the series finale tonight.

You aren't supposed to live your live vicariously or through a tv show,
but I don't think that is what it is about or why people connect with a show for so many years.
It isn't about an unhealthy connection to a celebrity,
or wishing your life looked like theirs.
Mark Schwahn did a phenomenal job of creating characters that you can see yourself in,
and allow you to believe that tomorrow could be brighter.

Tonight reminded me of the many times the show did that for me,
it has been around for me between the ages of 14 and 22.
Talk about fitting.
The amount of change, indecision, and figuring out who you are happens in overload during those years.
Tonight's recap and finale brought back the beginning ideas of what writing and creating something special can do.
One Tree Hill has had a loyal audience for almost a decade because of its acknowledgement of what it was doing.
The cast and crew connected with each other and the fans to produce material that meant something,
Yes, in my opinion, the post season six era wasn't the best.
I've still seen every episode since.

I guess what I want to say is,
Thank you.
Good material of any kind allows you to find new things in yourself,
One Tree Hill started my production interests in television and music almost a decade ago.
It lasted longer than the others of its kind because it connected the audience on more than one level.
Congratulations to everyone involved on creating something that means so much to a core part of peoples' lives and memories.
"It was special because it was where everything happened for the first time,"
That is what it meant then and still means now.
Thank you for pushing me to be a dreamer back then and believing in myself,
and seeing what is special about art in television.
It began the inspiration for what I want to do with the rest of my life,
I can only hope to be apart of something that can do the same for another generation.

Finally finding my voice

It has finally happened. I was lying awake at 5 AM, lets be honest, hungover - and it finally came to me.
I have been stressing for upwards of a year that I was never going to have a story to tell.
Today begins my first experience legitimately writing and creating a piece of work and I could not be happier.
The constant turning of the wheels in my head since the seed was planted is a ride that I never want to end.
The script and characters are coming together as I begin putting together the drawing board for the scene to scene progression.
I just want to say thank you to all of you who have always been around pushing me forward and supporting my goals whether or not I have ever given you a reason to.
This is a very exciting time and I needed it to happen more than any of you could know with school coming to an end and my adventure to New York getting closer and closer.
I desperately needed something to happen to give myself some faith in myself.

To be determined

Left or Right? North or South? East or West?
You know better than I do.

Two months in and senior year already has two staple features,
laughter and fear.
With 8 months until I come face to face with the real world, and all of her mayhem,
I am trying to make all the proper decisions to turn the fear to excitement.
Two things stand in my way, experience, or lack there of, and a crossroads of which career path to pursue.

I have two major interests, both offsets of my dream job. Writing with the talent of Amy Poehler or Tina Fey, obviously.
How do you choose? How do you know what moves to play and which ones to save? Oh the pressure of having this one life and wanting to make the right choices to have the best possible life and least likely for regret.
New Orleans? New York? LA? A big soccer city? TV/Film production or sports writing/broadcasting? So many avenues and choices, but not a lot of experience or connections. Do you go where you have the connection because you probably have it for a reason?

So much to figure out and so little time. Senior year sneaks up, as you pray for it to come, and then you beg for more time.
More time for added knowledge and insight to nudge you in the "right" direction. I can only hope that the wheels are turning as they are meant to and that the cards fall somewhere pleasant.

I must say, even with the stresses of figuring out the future AND making it across the stage to get your diploma, it has been one hell of a ride. Thank God I have come full circle and am having the most stressful but most rewarding year of college. I have amazing friends and spend more time laughing than you could ask for. I will miss them as we veer down different paths, but I am so thankful to have gotten to learn so much about friendship from them and the ones no longer around. The people and relationships to come is one thing that already fills me with excitement. That is what life is about, no?

Quality Definitions

Does your definition of a friend change?
Or is it that your friend’s fall out of the definition?

I think the only logical choice, at least for me,
is both.

Who knows if they ever really fit the description.
Maybe you put on your Wayfarers and see things the way you dream them to be.

All I can say now is that as the Wayfarers came off,
and I sat with nothing but my thoughts and holes in mouth,
the definition became clear and so did those who do not fit into it.

Falling into Wonderland, someone catch me.

Last night’s antics in combination with a couple weeks of tough feelings equalled life giving me a few slaps in the face. It is a black eye I am happy about because I think it is scaring me into actually figuring something out. A lack of experience and lack of specific path have me scared shitless about the next five years. I do not know what I am headed towards, if anything at all.

I have not felt connected to anything or anyone in some time now. Leaving and coming back was easy at first. That giddy sense of return and love quickly fades into reality, and everyone falls back into the place there lives went without you around. You once again learn who really cares, but no one is never a welcomed realization. It is what I think a rabbit hole would feel like. Alice I’m still falling, send someone to catch me, would ya? I’m ready for the Wonderland part.

I want to graduate and begin a life of working and progressing something incredibly interesting. Easy to say, trying to figure out how the hell to make it remotely likely.

Back to the root of thought... or trying

I have been very distraught recently by my lack of inspiration in general.
As I have been pondering the differences in mindset between my most inspired times and least, I notice I no longer give myself the time to have a thought worth sharing or writing down. When listening to music is not enough, especially when you are one to become all consumed in it musical wonder. The thoughts come in and out and circle around, but are destroyed the moment the follow-up is useless apps such as … dun dun dun Facebook.
I have never been a big fan, but after realizing that possible connection it is time for our relationship to end. At least for a while.

One might call me out for not doing the same with Twitter, but in my opinion the two are very different. I get to share and experience others’ ponderous thoughts that spark actual conversations. Sad they have to be virtual. I need older friends or different ones.

I’d say the fact that it just brought me to put down my advertising book and blog in general is a good sign. Maybe I will reconnect with myself soon, who knows maybe other people too. I think I need to find myself again first, or the latter won’t work either.

More blog thoughts are coming through, I think it is a good sign. Hope the wires are beginning to spark again, lets hope I can twist them together again.

Living the dream, reach for the stars

The past few days have been full of the best feelings and of some intense internal battles,
but doesn't it often go that way.

Most importantly the actuality of studying abroad began this week,
not because classes started but because I actual got to live the life of a local.
My flatmate, Gwen, is an epic surfer and took us to one of the many beaches in Swansea,
but one a good ways out from campus.
The cutesy, organic cafes looking out onto the waves crashing against cliffs was absolutely jaw-dropping.
We also went out to one tonight instead of the popular techno club scene.

Staring out into a vast expanse of sea and stars with two fresh friendships in the dark is lovely on any day,
but in another country with a new British friend it is incomparable.
Especially as you are discussing the contours of life, family, and passion with people who don't already know you on that level.
It brings out the excitement of new friendships and the inner angst of being without those who already know.

I miss genuinely and extremely miss 'my people',
but I can see the new friendships coming on the horizon and cannot wait.
After the realization today that I have already been here a month I fear I have wasted time.
As I prepare to plan my birthday weekend in Prague tomorrow,
I look forward to the day-to-day additions coming as well.

I just got an e-mail from the Media Society,
which I cannot wait to jump in to and get some actual experience with my interests,
and possibly find a little direction.
Though the expanse of my interests can be quite exhilarating,
and will always continue to be on overload in this ridiculous head of mine.

Don't think, just do?

The wheels inside my head continuously turn,
leaving each answered thought disrupted by the next.
The constant veering between avenues,
only allowing for an onset of more to ponder.

Tonight the wheels are centralizing on a very cliche topic for a college student.
What path am I on and where exactly am I trying to get?

There are a couple things I know about what I want to come in the future.
I want there to be music, writing, and New York.
In what context though?

So many aspects of different sects I find thoroughly enticing:
Music production, band management, music supervisor, all behind-the-scenes television work,
concert reviews, band reviews, radio, the blogosphere, etc.
I suppose I just need to find ways to experience them,
instead of doing such an impeccable job thinking about everything.

Mellow, mellow where art thou mellow?

A negative post was not in the plan,
but what is this for if not venting.

The efficiency of this study abroad program is lacking at best,
but that can be doable.
There is one aspect that I truly cannot seem to grasp any logic for,
the living situation.

They put us in the Student Village.
The Student Village is where all the "freshers" live.
Every house surrounding me is running rampant with "freshers".

My house specifically is supposedly made up of four 18 year old boys,
three fresher girls, and three Upperclass American students.
I say supposedly because I have not had less than 8 boys in my house since I arrived.

Though it was not my reaction to college,
I understand the idea that freshers come and drink constantly into oblivion.
Fine.
My question is why would you put all of us in the middle of them?
The on-campus dorms with experienced upperclassmen seems much more logical on every count in my book.
Oh well.

I guess I will be having many middle of the night posts,
due to the loud, drunkness I am currently coated in.

Is it 2012 or something? No, a pipe burst on the fifth floor.

Time to wipe the virtual dust off my corner table.
Feels very similar to the comfort of opening your go-to favorite book.

I have been in Swansea, Wales going on 12 days now,
it feels like at least a month.
I will be in this flooding, crack-den of a dorm hall until Wednesday,
but it has had some wondrous perks.
The other American students (those not in London for the pre-sessional) live here too.
How I got so lucky is beyond me,
but each of them have made me thankful to be an American in some way or another.

Swansea itself is immaculate.
The architecture, parks, and sea are breathtaking.
It is a city meant to be explored by foot,
though the bus seems to be the peoples' choice.

It is going to take me quite longer than I expected to figure out these people known as the Welsh.
For some reason, you (or I) walk into a country with such a historical connection to your own that your subconscious
tricks you into thinking you are a similar creature.
False.
So far, similarities are much harder to come by than I imagined coming in.
You know what they say about assuming...
It would seem from our one Canadian, great statistic I know,
that Canada and the UK are contrastingly very similar.
I will save my assessment for a while.

The hardest acclamation is very easy to pin-point,
FOOD!!!!
It is no lie that flavor is lost right past the immigration line.
There has been a saving grace however,


Franco is an Italian who hates Wales,
but knows how to run a restaurant.
Vast menu and delectable food,
by far best bang for the pound.

In the coming week I will move to the Student Flats, local students will arrive, finish the teaching part of the pre-sessional course, and head to Dublin.
Perfect storm for a superb post to follow.

Love tank.

In order to understand me on any kind level beyond the surface,
one must understand a few things,
but one in particular.
Love and relationships are not something I have witnessed in the positive.

Today, I learned of the official demise of one of my oldest and dearest friend’s parents’ marriage.
This does not sound like a surprising notion today I realize,
but one must also know that I attended a very conservation and very Christian high school.
This family, so dear to my heart, falls distinctively in both of those categories.
It breaks my heart on so many levels,
to see a person who was always the most doting father peace out,
seemingly without a care.

Do people truly love one another anymore?

I have never experienced it,
or really seen it,
but I would really like to believe in it.

I am at the pathetic point of no longer enjoying many romantic stories,
because I find the concept so laughable.
If I ever had faith or hope in love,
the tank is running on light fumes.
Wish I knew where to stop to fill it up.
Finally feeling it for myself,
seems like it might be the only way.

Hate this feeling of such cynicism.
I love sarcasm and realism,
but not cynicism.

Wish that cure was easier to come by…

Book club wonderings

Bloodroot
Tunneling to the center of the earth
You can't drink all day if you don't start in the morning
The film club
Living dead in dallas
A treasury of southern folklore
The book of secrets: miracles ancient and modern
We have always lived in the castle
Dandelion wine
The young people's speaker
Twilight- william gay
The pillowman
Between the lines
Les fleurs du mal
The fountainhead
The grass harp
Music for chameleons
The ballad of the sad cafe
The heart is a lonely hunter
Wise blood.

Read a site recommending these books. Read any of them? Any suggestions of ones you enjoyed? Don't want to draw out of a hat :p

Where is the remote?

Ever experienced the moment where you know the part of a movie or show is coming, but instead of getting lost in its wonder, a shower comes through blocking the signal?
This is how I feel my life is playing out day-to-day.
My life is on pause just as I am awaiting the best part of it to begin.
I can see through the static of what is to come or what once was, but the haze is getting thicker and I am losing the soulful parts.
All the splendid parts are getting lost in translation:
The way you feel when you see someone who changed your life one day,
or the day you learned what makes you tick.
I am trying to grasp ahold of these moments that brought me to today,
awaiting the adventure that forever change how I see the world.
I cannot wait, but pause is a very uncomfortable place to sit.

Casting Call

The other day I was asked a three-part question at work,
that has lingered in my mind ever since.
Normally these type questions I blow off as wasteful,
but not this week.

"What would be the opening scene of your movie, what song would be playing, and who would play you?"

The last part of the question still fell into the "I don't give a shit" category,
but the other two stroked a chord or two.
Music is what keeps me breathing some days,
leaving that as an undertone for the immense contemplation.

I did, however, have an instantaneous reaction.
La Rocca's "Non-Believer"
The scene choice was very broad,
but the instant reaction I feel says so much.
It is what I think of my life off the cuff,
without contemplation.
As someone who contemplates everything in excess,
it took me off guard.

At least I get to contemplate the meaning of that now,
or is that one to just let be?

As I shuffle through my many, newly downloaded songs,
I now ask myself if that is actually what should be "the chosen one".
Isn't the song that ends the movie really the significant one?

I wish the movie would be interesting.
For all the thought I have wasted on it,
it should be casting soon.

Alone.

I am literally alone, with no outlet, for the first time in many years.
I don't know what to do with myself,
who am I to talk to?
I have movies and television as an outlet,
but that isn't life - much less mine.
How do I bring all the feelings to reality?
I may be in a pretty place for the next 3+ months,
but what does that mean for my mind?
I cannot keep it together.
I want that conversation and relationships,
my friends (recent real ones for sure) have kept me sane.
I am REALLY feeling the lack of New York in my life recently,
and how to live otherwise is not coming easily.
and I don't know how to fix it.
For sure, I don't know how to live without it anymore,
the suffocation is taking over.
Help.

I miss and love you.

I need New York really, really badly.
I have said many times,
once a year keeps me sane.
It is beginning to prove itself,
I need to refuel.
My soul is depleted,
I need home.
I need my reality,
screwdrivers don't give the same enlightenment.
I feel a loss and death within,
without you I have nothing.
My life and soul is depleted,
come back to me.
You are all I need in this life.

One

The sun and rain have been battling,
as have the forces within.
A burst of light explodes,
only to be doused with rain and saturated with darkness.
The view outside only deepens the parallel,
between the works of nature and man.
Could make one wonder,
Why do we forget the worlds are one?

Baker and a skyline

Twas suggested to me to share this, so I am. The details of my tattoo artist and experience.



I got it done at Pay 'N' Dues Tattoos. Small, but not tiny, funky parlor with a great vibe. Two guys hanging around. The two main artists are a husband and wife duo. Baker (last name), my artist, and Melissa. The chair was silver metal, very hair salon-esque with some grit and a story of its own. He turned on some very old school music which made me love him. He had a little squeak to his voice, that made him adorable in all his toughness. He had his sleeves blacked out, but with a couple tribal-like swirls. I asked if he didn't like his sleeves anymore and he said that he loved his sleeves and they were badass, but he loves the tribal right now. My favorite, by far, quality was that throughout our short time together he called me "hot rod". I had to sign a sheet giving basic information and and taking claim should anything go awry. I picked him because the place was suggested, but really because when I walked in I knew. There was something about his soul, and quirkiness that I adored. I knew I wanted his experience and story to intertwine with mine even if for that 30 minutes. It was just a basic, simple line - done quick and well. Pain was probably an 8, much more than the first tattoo I got. No tears or whimpers though.


Play-by-play: He drew the outline from a picture I brought. Asked if that was what I was going for. I questioned him about the Brooklyn Bridge. He said I was basically deciding between two tattoos. I chose. He put the sketch up against my foot, showing me the options in comparison with the inside of the foot to the outside of the foot. I decided I wanted the sketch to stop a little before the end. He printed out the final sketch and told me the price. I then learned it was cash only and had to run down the street to the ATM. He prepped while I was out. Black ink, gun, gloves, and stencil. Got back paid, gave him the change as tip and said "I have a feeling you'll deserve it - Baker: I am badass at tattoos (with a smile)!". He informed me "I tattoo really fast" and that i'd be done in less than five more than likely. Discussed with one of the guys who was leaving the plans for the night. "She (his wife) is going to Sassy Ann's, so i'm just planning on drinking. If your down for some drinking let me know!" - "Fuck yeah, we'll talk". He put the stencil on both sides of my foot and let me "dance-around" so I could choose. I picked and he went to town. Puts the ointment over the stencil before going over it with the needle. As he did the first piece of the line he asked if I felt badass. And later asked again after knowing it was at the painful point. He finished quickly and rubbed the ointment across and bandaged me up. Told me to leave it bandaged for 1-2 hours, clean it with soap and water, air dry, then add ointment - just enough to cover it all not globby. Told me to have a good night, I said the same, and our time together ended.

No sense at all.

Intense feelings swim through my body,
I can feel their presence in my veins.
Excitement takes a dive,
while fear does a cannon-ball.

Complete uncertainty about how and where to move forward,
might as well be hitting the accelerator and the brakes simultaneously.
A leap of faith, picture Idina Menzel's monologue in "RENT", to be happy.
New life path, complete without a map, topped with the exploration of self - and Europe.
Come on summer, treat me well,
or at least give me cheap booze to plug the fear and aid the excitement.

If it wasn't scary it wouldn't be worth it, right?
The courageous parts of life are the ones worth living.
Every boring day of my life has already been forgotten,
I think that means I don't need to have anymore.
Too young to have a life already forgotten,
Where's the diving board?
I'm ready to take this shit to the next level.

Final Distraction.

Even if the title is a dream, nothing wrong with dreams right?
Wrong. At least for today. After spending the majority of the past two semesters in a state of mass confusion, I have finally taken a step forward. Instead of using lifelong dreams and fear as a crutch, I am going to take a hard right or left. Who’s to say.

A recent revelation of wanting happiness during this short life has brought me back to the basics. With no guarantee that there is anything afterwards, there is no point in living it miserably. Time to let myself to get on a path filled with the things that cause me to exude passion and joy for life. Can’t have a tattoo forever telling the world to “find the joy in life” everyday, while knowing that I my self did not do so. Hypocrites suck.

Majors, minors I hate you both. I just want to learn. Isn’t the point to take your passions, mix it with knowledge, and create your own potion to better the world? Even if only your little world and the beautiful souls you have been blessed to have in it. Tired of running blind. Time to continue the search for my soul and its every desire. Hopefully I make the appropriate decision, so that its impact on my semester abroad will be nothing short of a reward for allowing myself to go after whatever it is I truly want. Who knows, maybe once I jump off this train Wales will light street lights along the path I choose to walk.