Never Had A Home

It's worth noting that this isn't exactly how I feel. The majority of it is just words. I wrote it while sitting at my desk, freezing. So, to set the mood right, get as cold as you can (to the point of shivering) and read through, but whisper the italic parts to yourself.

Never Had A Home
Nothing left to say, no words left to believe;
It's hard to have a dream when you cannot fall asleep.
The lights don't know my thoughts, the streets can't feel my pain,
These strangers couldn't care less to ever learn my name.

A new edge of the world, a fresh new frontier.
Staring down my father's gun, I think I like the view from here.
Darkened by my thoughts, motivated by my spirit,
I'd tell my sob story again but no one wants to hear it.

I'm a nuisance, I'm pathetic.
I'm beaten down by the world because I let it.
Pre-cursing thoughts are the mist;
God, I hope the lightning missed.

I could feel it through my skull, a bullet for it all,
Thunder in my sky littering thoughts against the wall.
I'm not myself; no I'm someone else,
A person that I hate, numbness I've never felt.

There's no light behind these eyes, a handful of people I despise.
Just a shallow human shell with a half smile disguise.
An ego-centric sickness, as God as my witness,
I would steal to take the "lie" from my life.

A ring of mistrust, three years of misdeeds,
You would think you're crazy if you ever thought like me.
Back and forth with the mind games, just want to you feel the same way;
Steering everything I do just to drive you insane.

A thousand thoughts a minute, half of them with her in it.
The other 50 percent, the world I've left unfinished.
A family left abandoned; three hearts left unmended.
You wonder why I can't trust, it was the way my life was handed.

Down through different people, all with different motives,
By the time I was 10 my sense of belonging was so corroded.
I felt a sense of pride, knowing I made a life on my own,
Only to find that I never had a home.

All I had were a few good times, at the expense of all the others,
I lost my sense of empathy and I lost God damn my mother.
Drink just to feel numb, unfaithfully fuck to feel alive;
Taking a lot more than I could ever need just to survive.

Another bottle down, another broken heart.
What's destroying a relationship when I never cared from the start?
I'm a monster in my own mind, a demon by design.
I would burn every bridge around me if it would keep me warm tonight.

I'm dramatic, I'm an addict;
Not to pills, but to substance.
Nothing you can buy, nothing you can steal,
But something free to feel.
Fueled by the desire to feel Loved, a chance just to belong,
I know I look alright, but that assumption is wrong.

Nothing left to say, no words left to believe;
It's hard to have a dream when you cannot fall asleep.
Just want to know I caused a wave, know I sparked a fire.
Because sending chills down your spine is what keeps me inspired.

Neglect Heals All Wounds

You know that feeling you get where you're absolutely sick to your stomach when you think of someone? Just the image of their face in your mind makes you want to throw up.

But the problem is ... it's nothing they did. It's what you did to them. It's how you mistreated them when you thought they would be there forever. And now they're gone. And you loathe them, but in reality, you hate yourself but they act as a placeholder, the manifestation of your undeniable and relentless guilt. It's easier to hate someone you don't have to see everyday than it is to hate the person you see in the mirror.

Time for my winter anthem.

 Well, it's starting to get cold outside and the days are growing shorter. The world is at a loss for colour. I guess it's about time I pretend to be socially awkward and use the Internet to comfort myself. Hang in there with me. My almost-impossibly positive view of the world will be back soon. My life is fantastic. I just want to feel passionate for a moment.

I'm a man of extremes. If you know me, it's easy to see. The way I workout. The things I eat and drink. The music I listen to. Hell, the way walk upstairs could be construed as extreme. So, it's no surprise that my interpersonal fights are crazy and my reconciliations are just as ridiculous.

I live for passion. Not just romantic, either. I need it in many different realms. I've even contemplated asking my girlfriend to pick a fight with me about something so I could say I'm sorry in beautiful ways. I need those ups and downs. Call it me being a sociopath. Blame it on my past. It's what I thrive on.

But there are certain situations in which extremes don't work, and I've found myself in one. Everything we do is a lesson, but much like school, you may not learn what you were supposed to until the final exam is over.

Right now, I'm taking the test and I don't know the answer. In fact, the way I deal with it is to turn the paper over, leave it blank and act as if though it never existed. 

However, I've learned something along the way.

We need to tell the people we Love that we Love them. It's so simple. So easy and we overlook it. It's so overlooked that people may respond in an awkward manner. Don't let it be awkward. You care about someone deeply. You have their back. You're hurt if they're hurt. You Love them.

I Love you.

You never know when that simple phrase will hit a person. Or when that phrase will miss a person. There's a friend out there right now that I care for deeply, but I can't say I Love them. I can't. I can't bear the shame for how I've treated them. My actions have reflected something other than Love. My actions were a lie. They were a mistake.

Would I take it back? No. Because it's caused me to learn. 

While I'll more than likely fail this exam, I've learned for next time. I've reached out to a few people already. People I Love. People who should hear it. Sometimes it's hard to separate Love from romance, but the two can be mutually exclusive.

Because you're no longer here with me, I have to say that I Love you. My actions didn't reflect Love, but my intentions did. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to ignore you. I never meant to have you leave my life. My apologies for my extreme behavior. It's just who I am and I'm working on it. 

Nothing would be better than speaking these words to someone you lost. Maybe after a few drinks so you can really let your emotions loose. So you can say what you truly want without shame. Face-to-face. Not behind a cell phone or a laptop. Not in a letter. Through true-to-life words. Spoken on your bedroom floor behind closed doors.

Words that can bring a tear of both pain and happiness at the same time.  

Go out and tell someone you Love them. For all those who lost their chance. 

I Love you, friend. 

 <3

Nobody Gives You a Chance; You've Got to Take Them

At the end of May 2013, I had no idea what my life would come to be. For the first time in my life, I did not have a concrete plan.
I graduated. I had a temporary part-time position lined up at the end of summer, but that was about it. That job was in Columbus and my Bowling Green lease was up at the end of May, so I had two options: head home to Fostoria and possibly ditch my chances of getting out or blindly go south to Columbus and pray for the best.

I chose the latter.

June 1, I packed my car with the few things that I needed. I had taken to Craigslist to find a roommate and I found three suitable ones. My whole Craigslist experience will wait for another blog; just know that some of the options were terrifying.

On my way down. On my own.

At this time, I had nothing but emotional support. Honestly, all I realistically need is 99 percent emotional help, but that 1 percent of material safety helps me a lot. I went to the first two apartments and they were awful and far out of my price range and away from where I would be working temporarily.

The final apartment was leased by a Godsend named Maggie. The circumstances were perfect and I took the plunge. I was ready to sign, but they wanted to make sure I wasn't a complete sociopath; rightfully so.

I slept on the floor of a friend's house that night. Terrified. What was my life to become? I recall shaking from nervousness. I had every cent counted up in my head that I had to my name. I knew I had to get a job immediately. I couldn't wait around.

I applied for a cashier position at Kroger at 9 p.m. and was offered the job 12 hours later. I was then alerted that I could move into the apartment soon. I'll forever be jaded because, in my first two nights in a big city, I found a job and an apartment. (My time at Kroger, a service job, will be a blog for a later date as well.)

However, I had to go through the orientation process at the new-found job and I had to get settled into the apartment. I layed there, on the floor, scared again. I needed to do something productive and we lacked Internet, so I went for a run.

Hear what drove me.

I plugged into Bring Me The Horizon's new album and just ran. And ran. It was 90+ degrees and I was in all black, but I just kept running. In my head, I was panicking. Where am I going to end up? I have nothing planned. I'm so scared and I know no one down here. In four months, will I be screwed? My unknown running path reflective of my life.

I found myself back home and created a plan. A list. On it were five goals. Get a full-time job. Save $10k. Read a book. Find a Columbus best friend. Get down to 160 lbs.

Well, I've completed 4/5 of those goals already, and let's just say I'm still reading the book.

I was offered full-time at the same job I interned with and worked with over summer. I am eternally grateful for the opportunity and I am sure that I will flourish, personally and professionally. (A blog about job openness is sure to follow at some point.)

What I'll miss the most from the old place.

After some personal events, I decided to move in with my wonderful girlfriend, Sarah, in a two bedroom place on the other side of Columbus.

But before I moved out of my first Columbus apartment, I went for one final run, with BMTH's Sempiternal in my ears once again.

My mind was calm. I knew what I was doing. There was a plan - a great one! I'm owning life. I took a chance and it paid off. Three-four months earlier,  I was shaking with fear and anxiety, but now, I was calm. Striding along the exact path I ran previously when I had more doubts than prayers.

Thank you to everyone who has taken a chance on me. I know I'm worth it and I'm so thankful you thought I was as well.

New Myspace Pt. 1: Colorful, Creative ... Confusing

If you know me personally, you would know that I am a sucker for nostalgia. And what better archive of old memories and melodies than MySpace?

Oh, the days of organizing your Top 8 friends and hammering the "Add Friend" button for hours just to boost your band page's friend count. I could go on for days about how wonderful the old MySpace was and how much it taught me in regard to HTML and social media, but that's not what this is about.

It's not great. It's not bad ... just not great.

This is about the NEW MySpace and what it has to offer.

Mr. Justin Timberlake took over the site, sent out a beta version and recently released it to everyone for use. Within the first month of being open to the public, the old place for friends gained one million new users and it continues to grow - just not as fast as it should.

The new layout is unheard of. Instead of scrolling up and down, you scroll horizontally, which makes it disorienting for a new user at first. However, after a few gos at it, it starts to feel right.

MySpace was smart and kept their signature features: customizable profiles, Top 8s and profile songs. One complaint is that you cannot fully customize the HTML for your profile. Back in the day, web design was something we all had to learn to do. Some layouts were absolutely amazing, whether they were minimalistic or complex as Hell.

Simply beautiful.

My biggest complaint of all, the one thing that absolutely breaks my heart,  is the fact that they disposed of all of our old messages, blogs and comments. Some of that stuff was absolute gold for friendships and relationships to come. The memories seem to be forever buried in the meta-world of the Internet - unless MySpace finds a way to let users download the archive of their old stuff. At least they allow us to recover all of our old photos. I would have probably sued if I couldn't have gotten those back.

Anyways, after a few minutes of staring at the site, it's easy to see it is directed at bands, musicians and music Lovers alike. Everything has a song attached. Your photos. Your page. Your posts. There's even a Pandora-esque radio station module at the bottom of the page.

This is both cool and kind of a drag. It's a drag because it tells everyone what you've been listening to, which isn't as much embarrassing as it is annoying to see. I don't care that someone listened to Secret Well Kept by Bright Light Parade on repeat for three hours! (Guilty...: https://myspace.com/brightlightparade/music/songs)

It's cool because you can listen to a band's entire list of songs without paying attention to it. The ad disruption is very minimal and the actual player is pretty well-calibrated. You can discover new bands that you will grow to Love and listen to them all day.

In the good ole days, MySpace was a haven for new music and new bands. The MySpace-band era has since passed, but the archive is still out there, thank God. I Love all the female-front pop/punk bands and gritty deathcore bands that no one cares about. Some of that stuff is absolutely ingenious.

My hopes are high that this new layout and reinvention of MySpace will result in the re-occurrence of the "dream." I want to see some bands who are hungry. Bands who want to play, promote and get signed to a label just so they can play and dance in front of new people. That's what it's about and that's what MySpace allocated in the mid-2000s.

I did want to hit on the mobile app for a second. If it were up to me, I would likely just use the app instead of logging onto a computer if I was trying to be conversational with people. It runs smoother and is a lot faster than the desktop version. MySpace started going downhill once everything started getting bogged down and slow. They tried to make it too flashy and it pissed off a lot of peoples' CPUs.

I truly hope they cut back on the "connecting" aspect of the site. Just because I think someone's picture looks cool doesn't mean I need to "connect" to it and broadcast it to my 1,000 friends. Maybe taking this off would speed everything up just a tad bit.

Admit it. You got excited to see this once again.

Maybe I'm just a fool who is stuck in the past ... the amazing past ... full of custom-made HTML codes, scene hair and garage bands. A past enriched in musical dreams, young Love and angst...

Look at me go. Daydreaming again.

If you haven't already, log into your old MySpace. If you forget your log in stuff, it's easy to recover. Even if you don't keep up with it, you owe it to your past self to check it out and visit who you once were.

Who knows, maybe you'll Love it again!

Anything beats Facebook.

Oh, and don't forget to add me on MySpace: www.myspace.com/st3washere

Tipping: Bad for Cows, Good for ... Just About Everyone

When I go out to eat, or I'm at a bar, or I take a cab ride, I always remember to tip.

However, how much should I tip at these places? Should I tip on every drink I purchase? What if the cabbie almost drove me into oblivion at 93 mph? If I'm tipping a terrible waiter out of sympathy, shouldn't I tip the charismatic cashier/bagger duo who made my trip to Kroger something to remember?

These are all questions that circulate my mind before and after I go out.

Recently, Drew Brees ran into this sort of issue as well when he tipped $3 on a takeout meal. People ripped on him for being a greedy bastard, but I feel he would have been justified in not tipping at all. Think about it: how often do you tip someone who hands you your take out food? Who does that money even go to? The chefs prepared it and bagged it ... this person was simply handing it over. In my honest opinion, they deserved no tip in this transaction.

But then, I start to think about the people we don't tip for doing a phenomenal job. Think about the mail carriers who wander the streets no matter the temperature or condition just to get you your bills. Think about the baggers at grocery stores who not only bag your stuff, but also clean the bathrooms, carry in loads of carts and deal with any mess in the store.

The list of tip-worthy occupations could go on forever. There are people out there whose jobs go unnoticed and unappreciated. We just sort of expect it to happen and for them to do it with a smile on their face.

(A great list for rules and whatnot can be found here: http://www.getrichslowly.org/blog/2006/10/12/basic-tips-on-tipping-how-much-and-to-whom/)

If you're ever at home, ask the mail carrier if they want a drink of something opened, as to assure you're not poisoning them. Or, if you ever feel inclined, tip the cashier who sold you the $250 winning lottery ticket. It will make there day.

Now, back to people whose income is supplemented by tips; the people making under minimum wage.

Whenever I go out (the people always shout) to eat, I tell myself I will tip at least $2.50 no matter the final price. If it cost $1, they're getting $2.50. If the bill is higher, I keep a rule of thumb to make it at least 17.5%.

If you've got a good paying job and you're contemplating on a $4 or $5 tip, shame on you. Take that extra dollar out and give it to someone who needs it more than you. The amount they appreciate it will be greater than how much you miss it.

Probably a lot more going on in his life than just waiting tables.

On one occasion, I was out with a group of friends at a Mexican restaurant and the waiter was having a devil of a time. He dropped a water. Forgot a side. Didn't refill the free chips. You could tell on his face that he was roughing it that day. My friends banded together and decided to boycott tipping this dude. They couldn't empathize with his struggle.

Luckily, I had a friend sitting next to me who thought the same way as I, and we decided to pool our money to cover the table's tip and then an extra $5 or so. We wrote a note that said: We all have off days. Keep your head up." I hope that message found him well.

When it comes to bars, I never know how to tip. If I'm getting a drink that requires no preparation, I will not tip. If I get two, I will throw in a $1. If it's a rough drink, I'll throw $2 down. After all, these people are gonna have to deal with drunken fools all night.

However, I have noticed bartenders who will charge people, who they think are drunk, an extra dollar and take it as a tip. This has happened to me when I was sober. Needless to say, I caught it, called her out and decided not to tip because of the discrepancy.

Also, don't forget to tip at least $1 at a buffet. I know these waiters/waitresses are rather low maintenance in terms of waiting on your table, but they are still there and they remove your plates every time you go up and refill your drink. It doesn't happen by magic. Many times, these waiters aren't even expecting a tip, so go ahead and brighten their day.

I wanted to end this self-righteous rant with a story I was told by my girlfriend's brother. His wife was working at a Chinese buffet in middle-America. Due to circumstances with her employer, she was only making tips. There was no sort of consistent income. The only thing she got was a place to sleep in return.

During a 12-hour shift, she received 50 cents.

Enough unsympathetic human beings saw that her job was not worth throwing down a dollar for. Because of this, I will always tip buffets. I will always tip restaurants.

Who knows what that person is going through, but one things is for certain: they are their to serve you, so kick a little something back.

It's just the tip.

When Life Gives You Rotten Lemons

There is no better way to start the day than by having your car towed.

I went to run a few errands early this morning, you know, to be responsible and to get ahead of the crowd. I was determined to make this day mine by organizing funds, working out and taking my lovely girlfriend out to dinner.

However, I soon saw a bunch of cars being towed in downtown Columbus. I really didn't think too much of it except for "Man, wouldn't that suck to be that person?" All of a sudden, someone said to me "If you're parked over there, you better go move. It's street sweeping day."

I panicked. Look outside. Car was gone. So I ran outside.

Saw my poor little car being put on a truck. I asked the driver what the next step was. He was rather rude to me and said "There ain't nothing you can do now, buddy. If you gimme $20 I'll drive you back to the lot. You got 30 seconds."

He gave me roughly four before taking off with my car.

After talking to other drivers, one drove me to the lot and I spent the $200 or so to get my car back. But then, as Murphy's Law would have it, my key would not turn. Over the years, my key has been stripped and it won't work anymore. My girlfriend is the only one with the other key. Thank God she was only 20 minutes away and she had my spare with her or else I'd still be out there.

Here's where my day turns brighter. While screaming my lungs out in rage against my car, I decided to ask another driver for help. Not only did he give a true attempt at fixing it, but he also let me charge my dead phone in his truck. I let him know that Sarah wasn't going to be there for an hour so he let me go on a run with him.

The journalist in me considered this a ride-along.

For an hour, we had an absolutely fantastic conversation about life, jobs and the stupid people that inhabit our society. He told me that, for being 22 years old, I'm actually doing very well for myself. He told me of stories when people would get violent with him over having their vehicles towed. He told me about his mess ups and other peoples' mishaps.

We picked up a Dodge Ram from a private lot for not paying for parking and he gave me a ride back.

This conversation was enlightening. It gave my day hope of not being ruined. I learned today. I listened to a dude who really just wanted to be listened to.

There is a beauty through struggle, but you've got to find it. It's not always so clear. Sure, I could have went crazy on the tow drivers, but what would that have gotten me? Absolutely nothing. If anything, it would have hindered the process of moving on with my life.

Yeah, I'm out $193 for the day, but worse things could have happened. Sarah having that key saved me about $200 on getting a new key and a new ignition switch, so everything washes out and I'm not truly out too much.

When life gives you a rotten lemon, take it to the grocery store and talk produce with the employees. Who knows, maybe you'll make someone's day. Maybe you will waste your time.

One thing is for sure, you'll learn something about lemons, but even more about humans.




Note: Alan from the towing agency, you're the man. Thanks for making this hardship into something of value. I learned today and I hope you had a better day because of the ride along. Also, I'm still going to take her out tonight! Thanks again.

A Long Walk Home

It takes a number of lonely walks home to make you feel like you need to get away. To get away from everyone. The life that you felt was destined for you.

But I've walked down the same streets, alone, far too many times.

To think, I was going to stick around for this sorry lifestyle. I'm done. I'm ready to move on. This is it. I thought I was meant to stay around these people, this culture, for another year of my life. Honestly, I'm ready for the mundane life. The 401k. The working till death. The coming home to no one.

I want that.

I'm sick of counting on people who would never reciprocate the same for me.

My final stand. My final weekend as a student at the university that I have adored for four years. I praised this place and convinced dozens of people to follow suit. I counted the cracks in the sidewalks. And when I got tired of that, I watched the stars as I walked by alone.

For the last God damn time.

I Loved this place. It was my holy land. It was everything I needed to become a better, more full person. I met the right people throughout these years, but their meaning has since faded and I've become what I needed to.

An independent person. I have my own insights and my own abilities. I don't need anyone else. 

As humans, we congregate to share resources. Evolutionarily, we stuck together to get what we needed to survive. However, I feel that I am ready to do this all on my own.

I don't need the people I thought I did. I can make my own money. I can motivate myself. I can be who I want to be and surround myself with the people who fit my niche. 

I'm not like normal people. I adore chaos, yet I like sticking to a sort of plan. That's too much for some, but I don't care. It's who I am. Mock me as you will, I will not change. It's what I've become and I've grown accustomed to it. I've succeeded with such methods.

It's who I will be Forever.

As I sit in my room, I hear the echoes of stupidity. The voices of the people who have enraged me and helped me to come to the conclusions that I've jumped to.

They sound so pathetic. So weak. So dependent on an outlet of numbness. I'm done with them. I'm sick of the monotony.

I can be happy without them.

With that being said, I'm not afraid to move on. In fact, I'm ecstatic to be gone. I'm stoked. I'm elated.

There are jobs in the Carolinas that I was hesitant about, yet they were my dream jobs. What was I holding back for? For these people?

These people couldn't even help me take advantage of my final weekend as a student. They couldn't adhere to a simple idea that I had. It wasn't that hard.

I brought you all together. I wanted to have a good time with the people I Love. Instead, I was ignored and made fun of by the people I Love.

That's not what I deserve.

I'm ready for the life that is ahead of me. 12 hours away, my life can begin. Hundreds of miles away, I can start anew. That idea...fills my head with happiness.

I'm sick of this. I'm sick of either feeling alone or stagnate.

Call this a stream of conscience. Call it whatever you want. I don't care.

These are my words. My thoughts. If you're reading them, you obviously give a damn. If you're not, well you're not surprising me.

There's very few people I can count on. And even less I would call on in an emergency. Yet, there's a laundry list of people I would take a bullet for.

Take my silence as a token. A token of my appreciation for the past years. You've been great to me. However, it's time for me to see what the world has to offer. I thought sticking around was what I needed, but tonight taught me otherwise.

Three of them. Three of the best I knew turned their backs on me and I wandered alone.

Now I'll turn my back and find a new home.