illuminatus

One of those days....

What is it I'm doing here?

The other day at the gas station, I went to hold the door open for an elderly lady on the way in. Standing there, staring at the tattooed kid with a mohawk wearing a wife beater, she simply smiled well, and insisted that I enter first. After again saying, "no, please, go ahead." she again stood her ground, only this time laughing. With the largest smile and best aura I have ever seen of an elderly person, she chuckled "oh I am in no hurry to see how little in gas twenty dollars gave me!"

There I was, in what I consider my worst form. Torn up pants with paint marks all over them, dirty boots, dirty wife beater, with paint splatters dotting my arm like the night sky, or as I like to say, the gay vampires from twilight. Anyways, there I was, and in front of me was someone who ranks within the people that give me the most judgmental looks and sneers, yet she was rather smiling and laughing, pulling a small joke on the modern day. I guess I really just haven't stopped to really look at it in awhile, but this is the kind of place I love. A place where there is more of an understanding of differences. A broader acceptance of others, a collective concern for the community as a whole, rather than each of it's individuals. Yet still....

My dogtag is officially lost. A damaged and distorted piece of who I am, gone. My mother asked me if I could just order more, and sure I could, but it just wouldn't be the same. And though I'm sure she would give it back, the look in my niece's eyes when she asked if she could wear my other one is enough to allow her to keep it on. Since then, I find myself reaching up to the place where it used to dangle. The place where every once in awhile when I bend over, it would latch itself onto my goatee, which always was an interesting experience to remove. Ironically enough, I lost it the exact day my old unit flew out en route to Iraq again.

Went to visit them the other week before they left. Saw them and my sister and puppies. It only makes their absence that much harder to bear. Sometimes, as much as I love home, I still think of Texas.

Worst yet, now that I have been war torn nightmare free for months now, what I had feared has begun to happen. Visions and feelings. Not just emotional feelings, physical. Ones that I shouldn't feel, by any logic. I'll feel pain where there is no damage at all completely randomly. Out with friends at the bar, looking around and sipping on my drink, and suddenly I can hear snaps and screams, and my chest will suddenly feel like it's been hit my a sledge hammer, then back to reality. I need to find a medium here, before a polar side decides what is and is not true.

Anyways, I have been living here for some time now, and even after spending so much on student loans, no place out here will hire me. Seems since there is a lack of formal school for my profession in the area, everybody prefers experience. Either that or part of my past haunts me out of a job, in all honesty. I never thought my last name would keep me from work. I guess it's not my past, but it's still affecting my present. So in my bountiful spare time, I have taken up home construction. New hardwood floors installed, new circuits to the house, new outlets, new light switches and new lights, framing is up and finally anchored to the concrete floor (which was seriously fun drilling into concrete), AC and heating vents have been installed, and insulation is done. As far as the basement is concerned, just awaiting on our plumber to check our plumbing and tell me what I need to do to run the proper pipes to the soon to be bathroom area, then to hire preferably an amish guy to put up the drywall. I won't lie to myself, that's something my body will very much not like, and would take me forever to do correctly.

In the absence of house work, I turn my focus to family car work. My dad just got an older Caddy for his retirement, it needed a couple repairs, and mom just broke her side view mirror by being, well, mom. But hose are done, and now all I have is my school work. Wait, finished that for the week today. Have to wait until next week. Now what?

I found a job, kind of. Haven't started yet, still some paperwork that needs completed. And I still need to tell a few members of the family. They won't be happy, but maybe... I can achieve my dream here. Iraq, here I come.... again. Armored vehicle mechanic in Iraq pays at about 125k tax free for one year. Between me and my business partner, who is also going, we should have enough by the end to get this business off the ground. But what if I fail? It's not like it isn't feasible. Most days I revel in the thought, today, I worry, and I can't answer why.

I'm in a strange place, surrounded by a few strange people, with strange things happening, and my mind for some fucking reason cannot pull out of the past. It's amazing how something you hate so much one minute you look back on and crave for on a daily basis. I feel torn between so many concepts and delusions, reality and visions, dreams and nightmares. So I did what I always do to center myself on who and what I truly am.... I started Dexter season one again... and the phrase today for me to focus on for the next while is:

"All you can do is play along at life, and hope that sometimes, you get it right." - Dexter Morgan

Photos:




Houston waterwall... why did I not know about these things when I lived there? Would've made things so much easier.


my beautiful god daughter.







Chicago....

Late night entertainment...