whoa, whoa, whoa...and whoa!!!

Im not a very experimental person. I like what I know and I know what I like, which could potentially lead to unknown issues of close mindedness, Im sure. I also realize that there are things I have yet to discover which has some quality which I enjoy, and would potentially become adopted in an effort to further develop my collective arsenal of preferred practices.

I became intimately familiar with one of those things today, and had no idea how to react to it. in the heat of the moment, a thought popped into my head, and although nonconventional (to me) I somehow gathered the audacity to ask. I was immediately boosted into a realm in which I knew existed, but never imagined I would visit. I have no idea what the shit made me comfortable enough to ask (compliment in disguise), but nonetheless, I asked, I received, and it was mind blowingly good. Its now in my arsenal.

After a moment of clarity, however, I immediately felt disgusted confused, and disappointed with myself about what took place. I cant tell you why that was my initial reaction, but it lead to a little self reflection to say the least. Maybe it is an issue of what is taboo in our culture. Could be an issue of mild violation. Honestly, I dont know, and I cant say I ever will. I did however come to a conclusion. This is now the second event that has taken place that has shaped my current mode of thought of what's good. The second issuance of technique that I find insanely pleasurable, that would have been lost if it weren't presented with my current situation, which in and of itself, is a road in which I've never been down. I've not considered myself previously to have lived a sheltered existence, but perhaps I have. There's a slight chance that the "I like what I know" mentality has been holding me back from taking my steps to true enlightenment. I might have to change the way I do things.

Thanks for that. :wink:
I hope to someday return the favor
Im off to dream of new and exciting things.

Godspeed to Her

In a situation like this, I have to keep telling myself that I braced for the inevitable. I have to tell myself that, although artificially prepared, there were two ways that things could have unfolded. One of these paths was a fantasy, complete with scenarios manifested by idealistic dreams of interaction between another human being and myself, so harmonious that the melding of two individuals would have been a thing of organic beauty, and a treasure admired by others around us. A path of giggles and laughs, feelings of love and lust, and the actual practice of much pondered best case scenarios that have been adopted and shaped by the forces of past experiences of life. A warm bed on a cold morning that is so picturesque and comfortable, leaving it would be an atrocity to ones desires. The benchmark of perfection produced by an idealistic situation.

Of course, there is always an equally opposing path. One that is filled with selfish reflection of wrongdoing. One that is filled with the frustration of hypothetically allowing myself, once again, to sit too close to the fire while I was in a tired eye, euphoric state, that posed the very real possibility of being briskly swept away into a much needed deeply sweet sleep, leading to the accidental burns of a careless man. One that demands a play by play recap of events, in an effort to recognize these signs in case the situation ever presents itself again. After all, the definition of insanity is to repeatedly attempt the same behavior while expecting a different result.

I regret nothing, as this is how I choose to live life. I put myself into positions that will allow me to feel the relief of mist on overheated, irritated skin. Once again, without the bitter...

I cant help but wonder though. When will it be my time for some sweet?

You shall be missed as the burns heal, but your smile will replay in my mind always, and your beauty, both inner and exterior, will never be forgotten.

Godspeed to Her

Uneasy

At the risk of coming off like an insecure blow fish, I'm not scared of too many things. Clowns frighten me in a completely unnatural, but semi comical manner, and I do have a weird habit of hiding when I hear the ominously loud purcussions of a garbage truck driving down my alley that passes by the window with a dirty doppler of an engine rumble. For the most part though, there are few things that truly instill fear into my soul. I am, however, fearful of potential outcomes that will change the way I live.

Selfishly, having chosen a profession with the risk of crash and potential dismemberment and paralysis, the thought has crossed my mind that if I were to suffer one of these debilitating blows, I seriously doubt I would have the drive to continue such a limited existence. Please note that this has drastically changed how I look at those who have sustained such a change and continue to live a fulfilled existence. I have many admiring moments of "that takes such courage" when observing these folks and I tip my proverbial hat to them. However if I were in the same situation, I just don't see how I could wake up every day, having at one point had the ability to move unconditionally, and keep my chin up to all of the world's ups and downs.

I cant help but wonder if this would occur in an emotional manner as well. Although I have put safeguards into place that limit the effect that another person has on my emotional well being, I have not had the opportunity to develop such a safeguard in case of an introverted, catastrophic event. If something that had been woven into the garment of who I am were to be, without warning or reason, torn out causing the aforementioned garment to unravel, I don't think I have anything else in my closet to wear. I'm forced with the realization that it might be time for me to go shopping.

I woke up with fear of drastic change his morning. Even though I was gifted an amazingly unexpected distraction, the idea of possible drastic change to my wardrobe is clear in my mind, manifesting physically in an uneasy stomach and a pain in my side. I hate that, and I'm fearful of it.

:as I expect the worst, I will receive the best:

what say you

When I cant sleep at night.
cause you're running through my mind.
And every thing I do.
Only serves as
a distraction from you

What say you now?
What say you here?
You've gone offline, clearly.
And all I'm wishing for,
was that you're near.

Romantic

Im starting to realize that I am not, in fact, a romantic. Not even close. The worst part about it is that no matter how hard I try, I will never be. Romantics write books, paint pictures of decay and beauty, selflessly recite sonnets in front of crowds to their love, and propose with such extravagance, that the local news gains a fluff piece to fill time betwixt informing the masses of shootings and food recalls.

I'm starting to realize that I am not, in fact, a romantic, due to the arrogant tone of self preservation. I dont like putting myself out there for all to see and criticize, I do this for my closest friends only in a subconcious effort to let them know how much they mean to me. I dont like opening up my soul for the inevitable possibility that it will be taken advantage of, (which in and of itself is a travesty, as this is the one personal effect that we are all born and die with but have no control of.) I just dont dont like it when everything I am is wadded up, and thrown into the trash without any regard or respect for what it took to get that out.

I'm starting to realize that I am not, in fact, a romantic, but instead one who takes time to appriciate the good feeling that I get, when one becomes the focus of my extroversion. A defense mechanism that I've found to be imparitive to my sanity, has been to recite, "Without the bitter, the sweet aint as sweet" repeatedly to myself when waters get choppy. I know I 'm not spoon feeding myself bullshit to distract from the current situation because as I reflect on past encounters, I find that no matter what it was; good, bad, hurtfull, fearfull, etc. that the bitter and sweet truely do taste better when youve recently sampled the opposite. A romantic person would have the courage to go all in as opposed to sticking a foot in the pool to see what feelings the water inspires.

I'm starting to realize that I am not, in fact, a romantic because in my current situation, as my dreams are starting to be taken hostage by one who's smile haunts, voice soothes, touch invigorates, and company breathes air into a dying fire, I retrospectively focus on what she does to me, not what I for her. Obsessed with the idea that "Without the bitter, the sweet aint as sweet" as it relates to me, not her. Call it selfishness or blame it on the fact that I am an only child, I enjoy riding this ride of neck-bending steep climbs, and high velocity-heart sinking drops. Its the ultimate hot shower on cold skin. Its the decision to live my life, rather than simply float through it. Regrettably, the focus of analogy is on me, not her.

I'm starting to realize that I am not, in fact, a romantic because a true romantic has no ejection seat, no back up plan, no "in case of emergency, Pull Here" lever. A true romantic leaves no room for failure and rides the bomb to impact and trigger explosions, that although devastating, are one of the most spectacular things the writers eyes have ever witnessed. Instead I will fall to the ground safely, allowing for reflection and thought of the avoided catastrophe. A romantic has the spiritual armor to live to tell about it, and I have yet to acquire such a device.

I wish to someday be a romantic, but as for now I think im too selfish to actually buy the pants. Ill try em on, admire their cut and how they fall on my legs, look in the mirror for an hour and slowly become comfortable with myself and how I look in them, but Im not in a position to buy.

This is how I know I am not, in fact, a romantic yet.

@7200 ft I made a turn...and this came to be

So today at 7200 ft MSL, at 60kts, Heading 150, Negative Track on the VSI, while being directed to ILS 29R Via Denver Approach, I was blatantly pummeled in the gut by what was to me the most epiphanific moment of my life. My dream to fly has always been present in my life. As a seven year old in my grandfathers 172 barely able to reach the peddles, I knew that this semi familiar environment was where I needed to be. My realization was that I've always wanted to associate myself to the world of aviation some how, not for social participation, not for status, but only because it is a realm in which, I undoubtedly believe I belong. Everything else melted away in my moment today. No worries, no concerns. Just a full sense of belonging. That moment, where training, skill, preparation and comprehension merged to become "the correct action", manifested by an almost instinctual movement, and not a process to fallow; was by far the most satisfying feeling of my life. Thank you to all of those who have stuck with me while I disappear for months at a time. Thanks to all of those who have offered love and support. Thanks to all who have been rude, mean spirited, and acted with intent to harm. You have all allowed me to become the individual that I am, and I am forever grateful. Now, that said. Who wants to get up in Le beau ciel bleu?

who am I?

In a world dominated by those with something to prove, you occasionally run across a less popular group of people, whose key purpose is to sit in the background and observe as much as they can. These people have the innate ability to sit back, and watch and listen as the world goes by. Only awaking from a state of hibernation when the insult is obvious, when the shy are unable to speak, or when the action is so blatantly offensive, that not standing up would be an atrocity of mankind’s foundation. This group of people sit quietly in the shadows and spring into action when a contribution (big or small) is needed to continue the development of our society’s history, to be written in the distant future, and then return to the darkness from which they wait. These artists of creation fearlessly step in front of the oncoming trend, not to stop it in its tracks, but only to deflect it in a slightly different direction. Although not always apparent, or visible, this group does exist. Each one of us will have our time. Each one of these heroes will at one point help carve the sculpture of us. Until my time, I will be observing from the skies over you. Just look up. If at first you don’t see me, keep looking. With hope, enthusiasm, laughs, and a “some college” education; I will be returning the gaze, waiting for my time to fall in.

Goodbye to a friend

There are those who enter your life and live along side of you with no intent, and only by chance do you ever get to know them. Strangely however, one of those beings has affected my life more than I really gave them credit for. At a time in my life where the solid ground in which I walked was cracking underneath my feet, and the premeditated path of my life was becoming diluted due to my own misperceptions and false conclusions, I committed to sitting on an egg for a week while the owners went off on holiday. I originally thought that this would be a time for me to let loose, and do whatever it was that I wanted to do. I could have the ice cream, and dirty movie moments of McCauley Culcan's Home Alone. With responsibility and respect for another's empire, I ran the castle as best I could. The steam shower was most memorable, as I had not previously experienced the pore opening satisfaction, of being steamed half to death. The feeling of freedom was overwhelming. That all came to an abrupt end after one, chaotic, life altering night. After being witness to the atrocities of mankind, and visuals of death and decay that still haunt my dreams, I had a mild breakdown. A realization that my dream of serving behind a badge was just that; and the reality of being a public servant would only blacken my perception and hope in humanity.

On four legs and a surprisingly dry nose, I was comforted that night by a friend who I didn't expect to raise the bar for myself and others around me, who stayed within two feet of me at all times just to provide comfort to me. With no form of verbal communication, he was there to present the purest good that this world contains, and provided me with the comfort that I needed to bring me out of my dismal thought processes. Without one word being said to one another, in one night, he helped me be at peace, and to get some sleep.

The next morning, with lingering thoughts of the previous day's images, I found goodbye to be a wall that I did not have the strength to climb on my own. So with hesitation, I opened the car door. Much to my surprise, he (without hesitation) hopped in and took position. I was impressed to see that he sat face forward, and would not retreat to the back seat, choosing to face the world head on. He, in that half second, established himself as my partner in crime for that day's journeys. I needed no leash, and I had no worries about him sprinting away to examine distant objects, because of his calm, comforting demeanor. I'd never really talked openly to an animal before, but this time it seemed to be so natural. With the definition of a peaceful and inquisitive look in his eyes, he would glance to me, almost as if to ask what our next stop was going to be. I included him in my routines all week, and it felt natural to introduce him to friends. Of course they agreed that this is one of the coolest dogs ever, but I felt differently. I felt that calling him the "coolest dog" was an understatement of his personality. It did not do him justice at all. Not by a long shot. As I previously mentioned, I did not expect for this relationship to ignite into the absolute perfection that existed, but it was one of the most memorable weeks of my life, and he was at the center of it.

I handed back the keys to his castle, and said my temporary goodbye. Time passed, things changed, lessons were learned, and the world became an increasingly complex place to reside. However, whenever I returned to my good friend's place of residence, I was always greeted by my noble, four legged, surprisingly dry nosed partner in crime, as if time had stood still since that week. No judging, No pointing out of faults. No conditions. While sometimes distracted, he always made time for me to give him a double handed rub behind the ears as he returned a thankful, sincere and welcoming gaze. He changed my perception of man's best friend, and will continue to be the benchmark of canine perfection in my eyes.

God speed Palmer. Thank you for taking care of me when I needed it. Tell Gussie, Fred, Lucy and Ethel that I love them. I'm sure they will be glad to show you the ins and outs, as well as the leaping/bounding technique through the tall grass of spiritual freedom you will come to love. I hope to see you front and center at the welcoming party when my walk down the path concludes, to receive the double handed, behind the ear rubs you've showed me you appreciated throughout the years. (Please don't be upset when I give the first pet to another, for my loyalties will have reserved it for Gussie and Lucy)

Godspeed my friend. You will be missed, and you will never be forgotten