tl;dr In Seattle and abroad, we are seeing events lined up to combine active military force, curfews, attempts to instigate a resurgence in COVID and familiar voter suppression tactics to slim down or kill the ability to vote later this year.
In April of 2015, I moved away from Arizona, eager to get away to some place new, and perhaps to get away from some aspects of myself. I thought getting into a new place would put me in a better spot mentally, because I knew I’d always wanted to move away from “home.”
I know I needed some quiet time on vacation, so I’ve opted out of going to the Viking village over the last few days. Yesterday, I went out and did some photography, and I was quite happy with that. Today, I left myself to my thoughts, because I really hadn’t had time to think about the despair or curiosities that were in my mind.
Some days, it is more difficult to go through those waiting thoughts than others.
There has been a lot of myself, and my connection to this world, that I have witnessed over the last two years. Some beliefs have been reinforced, but some new roots have taken hold in growing ideas, wishes. I feel like I know what I must do next, but I will have to work hard to get there.
Having such a rule in place would hurt both the person falsely accused of rape and the person who wishes to come clean of their accusation.
Imagine a woman who worked at a fast food place while going to school to get a better education. She works nights, educates during the day and then comes home to a small trailer. She doesn’t get to eat much, and her downtime consists of things like laundry and cooking. She makes around $24,000 a year at one point, and is trying to make ends meet.
Now imagine she has two sons.
There is a sense of trepidation whenever I reach a crossroads at my life, but usually I have some form of control over which road I choose. This week, that is hardly the case.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” the demon said, coming into my door. “I’ve been stopping by for quite some time. I didn’t think you’d let me in.”
I eyed him quietly. He looked like someone I wouldn’t trust, someone that’d hold me back. But he looked normal. Looked like I would pass him on the street. He was wearing a button up shirt and some denim jeans and dress shoes. A bit upscale, but still casual. Business casual.
“Care for a drink?” I said, gesturing him inside and closing the door behind him. I pointed towards the sofa, inviting him in. His eyebrows rose, surprised at the hospitality.
“Sure,” he said. “Mead?”
“Of course,” I said. “I always treat my guests with the best of what I have. It is my hospitality.”
I am writing this as my flight goes over the snow-topped San Francisco Peaks that belong to Flagstaff. But my writing was delayed because I just passed over the tri-city area, and it took me a minute to realize that I was looking at the majority of my life from miles up in the sky, all summarized in a small area.
It’s a test, I am sure. Life is trying that press on me again, where it is trying my patience before I really move forward with the next bit of my life. It just hits in the small, right ways that it knows to, and I am increasingly frustrated with it.
I was at the gym tonight, and while I was doing my warm up and stretches, I looked up to one of the TVs to see coverage about ISIL/ISIS. Then, I started thinking about the things I have seen on Reddit about their victims, and who they’re killing, and the people they’ve paraded before putting into mass graves…
My blood started to boil. But it wasn’t just about that. I was looking at a part of the human race that has devolved into this kind of senseless intent. It feels like they are hiding behind the mask of Islam– they’re not fighting for it, they’re using it as an excuse to massacre people.
So, I am writing this from the cruising altitude for a Boeing 737-800 on my five hour flight to Boston. I managed to get the emergency exit aisle with only one other person for this five-hour flight, and I have plenty of room– probably the most I have ever had outside of first class. I have music in my ears, and I am well rested and ready to tackle the next work project.
But, I left Seattle. And I feel a bit of myself staying behind each time.
Sorry Phoenix, Seattle has won my heart out.
So, I’m running around in California right now, near San Jose. I decided after work today that I was gonna go to Hooters. I had thought on it a bit, and thought, Fuck it. Why not? Cute girls, and the food is passable and much cheaper than anything around me.So I went. I had stopped going there because one particular incident just made me disgusted with the people that typically attend, but I threw it out the window a bit ago, because it stirred some memories and emotions that helped me heal some.
Nothing eventful happened. I had a ten-piece of wings, a salad and a piece of pie. I chatted with the girl waiting on me about travel and what the rush hour was like around here, so I could gauge when to head back to my hotel. I got my check, and I was placing my card on it so it could be cashed out.
Not long after, I saw this guy walk in. He was Hispanic, wearing a “Patriot” shirt that he was occasionally checking on to make sure was clean, some cargo shorts and sandals. Older guy, thinning hair on top, and he was occasionally talking to himself and looking at different people in the restaurant with bewildered eyes. The waitress came up to him, and I could tell that she was slightly uncomfortable, albeit kind and polite. No doubt it wasn’t her first time dealing with someone who was off, but the results may have been radically different last time.
She got his order, and she returned briefly with a key lime pie. And he began eating it, and was still occasionally talking to himself and looking around while taking a few bits of his pie at a time. I figured he was savoring it.
But his eyes made me wonder what had happened. Was it something he had seen? A bad drug trip? My mind began to wonder, and I started placing myself in his shoes, and began to wonder how it must be for him day in and day out.
I was out shopping, and had managed to get most of my groceries loaded into the cart. I had picked up an extra-huge package of toilet paper because I didn’t feel like bearing the burden of using paper towels for a while. I had finished there, and went to the toothpaste aisle. I was needing a few new toothbrushes, and brushed myself past a few people as I approached them.
I had stooped over slightly to look at the bristle toughness. I typically went with mediums, and was looking for them. I found them. Then, out of nowhere, I stood still, and my mind wandered to points more recently in my life, within the last few years.
There’s so much that happened in my dream last night, and I can feel it slowly slipping my mind. It’s one of the few dreams I’ve had where it continued after I woke up a few times. (Hooray for drinking so much water.)
I made the decision last night to step away from social media indefinitely. It’s become apparent to me over the last few weeks that I have distractions setup for myself everywhere I go, and I am tearing them down one by one. This was one of those steps. I feel that I’ve been neglecting this website though. I’ve been neglecting sharing my views on life, and putting down what I think. The biggest benefit of this site, is for me to come back later and learn new things about what had happened before.
I think I’ve been avoiding writing this, even though I’ve needed to. But I feel it’s necessary to do it so I can reflect on it later and, maybe, use it to heal. To my future self, you made it through. But man, does it suck right now.
RULES FOR DATING MY DAUGHTER
If you pull into my driveway and honk you’d better be delivering a package, because you’re sure not picking anything up.
As I dive deeper into Germany, the depth of the beauty increases as well. I did not bring extra batteries for my camera because I thought the TSA wouldn’t allow them. So my main digital camera is nixed for the moment, but I am getting pictures of the countryside on my phone. It is better than nothing, but when I arrive in Munich, that will be one of my first priorities. Pictures are not optional.
The voice of the wind carrying the mist that rumbles higher in the clouds. Many wish for the sun, or a clear night with which to study the stars.
It’s always hard to start these blogs out, when they talk about self reflection and where things will go from here. It becomes a bit of a task, taking that first step. But, I’ll discuss first what I am thinking about most prominently.
I am always about reform and change when the people are in support of it, and have valid grounds with which to push for it. But many causes are left in the dust because people gathered and were angry, but nothing went on beyond this. I have always believed that success is not measured in how far you got, but in how long your victory is cherished.
In all sincerity, I have not paid attention to the Casey Anthony trial. I did not want to pay attention to it, because I was boycotting the attention it was receiving. I was boycotting the way the media was intricate about reporting every move, and making it so huge. And now, one of the jurors is afraid for her life because of the judgement call her and others had made.
There are so many groups out there that want justice for the Casey Anthony trial. It’s understandable; no girl should be robbed of a promising life. But neither should a juror that made a call in the justice system that has made the call that someone is not guilty. I see Facebook groups popping up, independent comments about how the mother and jurors should be lynched and murdered, and how the justice system “just doesn’t do right.” To those of you who are a part of this prejudicial wave, I have three words for you:
Go Fuck Yourself.
I’ve been mulling over this all day. Though I had a good weekend working on my truck recently, I also had an eye-opener to the thoughts and thought circles on my mom’s side. Particularly, with her and friends (?) that she had kept for a while. My own brother expressed his concerns to me about how mom had been acting lately. I know I am at risk of her (and everyone else involved) reading this, and facing a form of exile as a result, but if it goes unsaid, it’s going to fester and a good friend of mine reminded me of the medicine I had once given her: “There are two people you need to think of first: you and yourself.”
So, mom and anyone else contained in here, I love you dearly. But I feel as if I needed to process my thoughts after hearing both sides, seeing everything from the impartial perspective I was brought up to hold onto so I could see everything clearly. And tonight, I am calling it like I see it. If you remember how you raised me, you’ll understand. I am afraid of this being the beginning of worlds being torn apart, mine included. So each word I type… is probably the heaviest I will have ever typed to this point.
So I went to Z-Tejas earlier, just to grab some grub and talk with a few people. I didn’t realize how packed it was going to become in the next few hours. As more people started crowding around the bar, I became quieter. I was listening to them… and realizing how shallow-thinking a lot of people can be. The only person I could kind of relate to was the black guy sitting at the end of the bar, who was minding his own business and seemingly doing the same thing. What made me put out my card to leave, though, were the people.