Stop talking…

This is yet another blast from my journal past… June 21,2005
This is obviously not meant to be read and understood as it is simply a personal journal entry but wading through the confusion it sparked my interest. I don’t even recognize it as me but it was in my handwriting. I wrote this during my first deployment to Iraq. Enjoy?

What is the outcome of overcoming fear and accepting death as reality? It’s the love for life. Aha!… Ok, so what now? How many of us have a love for life? Sure, many of us enjoy doing things and sharing time with others but do they know the reason? Some get it through faith in their religion, some get it just because it feels right and of course, some get it because they are outright crazy! Deep down feeling good about something you’ve done maybe. Truly helping others. Heck, aside from pride, getting helped feels good. As I write this I am trying to explore an area of life that is often taken for granted.

As I begin to live my life as I should, I will approach my goals with good intentions. If I have a setback at least I will know I have had at least the opportunity to have a setback. I will try to have integrity in more of what I do. Having integrity does not mean I have to please everybody. In fact, if I can get a day off by golly I’m going to take that day off because if I can’t help myself, how can I possibly take care of others? ‘Me’ time is valuable. It’s time to reflect on how I want to handle things when the pressure is on.

Ok, whatever…

I have been feeling separated from others lately. Normally it would bother me, but for some reason I’m ok with it. It’s nice. I feel like I’m on track for once. I’m feeling a confidence boost. Instead of worrying what to say or how to say it, I find that not saying anything gets more accomplished. Sometimes people just don’t know when to stop talking.
I’m done for now…



Day 88…

The year is almost a quarter done. As busy as I’ve been the last few days, I feel refreshed in a way. I’m finding myself again. I realized in this recent move that I have way too much crap. Waaay too much.

One of my personal goals the next few months is to rid myself of anything that doesn’t serve me any purpose. My friend, Paul who has been traveling Europe for the past ten months has motivated me to start cleaning my life. Not only is it irritating to have a bunch of random things to worry about packing up when moving, it’s a reflection of the kind of life we live. I find myself bored a lot. When I get bored I like to acquire things. Do I really need two outboard motors? A floor buffer? How about a utility cart with fold down sides? An old chest? Random useless restaurant equipment? A rusted out air compressor?

I find myself giving away a lot of random things. I’m a bit funny about how I give things away. I don’t always want or need money for anything but I prefer it go to good use. And I don’t want to give stuff away to just anyone. I contradict myself with this idea but I have a hard time with it when I give something to someone and they end up disrespecting what it is or taking advantage of what I offer. I’d rather simply throw something away instead of not having someone appreciate something given to them. My hang up is the money issue. I considered giving my sailboat to someone but I realized that too many people would take it and could turn right around and sell it for easy cash… Well, I could do the very same thing but it would be much cooler if I was able to give it to someone who actually had a use for it and truly wanted one. Chances are I’m going to sell off certain parts of the boat and donate the rest of it to a sailing club or something. I kind of lost where I was going with this concept… Anyways…

Oh yea, de-cluttering my life. I gotta do it. Anyone want to buy everything in my storage unit for $500? All or nothin… Minus a few things specifically mine…

No picture tonight… I’m too lazy to get off my bed and turn on a light…

Moving pt 1.2

Another long day of work, moving and daydreaming of what’s next. The anticipation is killing me. I really need to stay focused on the remainder of my flight training. All I really have left of the last handful of flights for my instrument rating and a few weeks for my commercial… Then I’m done! For the time being at least. Aside from some really annoying core classes, I’ve got little else to stress about.

My boss told me today that I’ve been in a much better mood lately. I’m really a smart ass to everyone as much as I can but he said even with that, he noticed. In a strange way that made me happy. I feel really good about some things right now and as long as my own personal universe doesn’t come crashing down, things will be alright regardless of what happens.

Moving part 1

Another day in Dave land… I’m moving once again. This time back into the college dorms for the (hopefully) last quarter. I lost track of time tonight so I don’t have much energy to write like I want but here’s my daily post.

This move signals for me the light and the end of the tunnel. Next stop… Costa Mesa…


Not yet alive…

I so badly wanted to write something worthwhile tonight but I’m finding myself a little short on motivation. I feel like a sloth basking in the shady sun of a rain forest… Do sloths even live in rain forests? Maybe you get my drift.

I’ve written about her before but I miss my sailboat, Turtle. The last time I went to check up on her I forgot to leave open some vents and it was quite musty inside. The smell was thick and the wood was faded. The moisture in the air was overwhelming and the mess I left behind was quite depressing. I remembered the days a few years ago when I sat out on a warm summer afternoon sanding and varnishing the few wood accents she has. Beer within arms reach was all I needed. Gus the Herron would even stroll by as if nothing was out of the ordinary. This was my life. The debts of life had little effect on me. The guilt ran deep but the sheer strength of what a simple life can do took me away from any stress I ever had.

I’m planning my next move to a place where I think I can truly enjoy myself. I may not have Turtle but I’m hoping I can find my sanity once again. It’s a place where I don’t really care if anyone calls me or not. I will have no worries if friends come through with their promises. Though I want to live for something greater, I vow to do everything I can to spend my free time enjoying everything this world has to offer instead of being holed up in a landlocked depressing state of affairs. Money won’t be my driving factor as long as I can eat and live to a reasonable standard.

Sometimes I think autocorrect is trying to tell me something. In the previous paragraph I tried to write ‘live’ but ‘love’ came out instead. Ultimately this is my goal. I want to love without reservations. No expectations and no guilt. Someone that may be by my side will get all of me, if I can have all of them. I want to dance again. Not some freaky salsa slash grinding variation, but actual dance. I want to make something with someone for each other, for ourselves and for anyone who dares to watch.

I have to make it through the next several months. I know I will and I don’t doubt my abilities but I don’t want is to lose sight of what my happiness really is. If I lose it, what else will I really have to offer? I’m tired of being grumpy and confined in my life. I’m tired of being tired. I know what it’s like to come alive and I miss it.


First kiss…

I leaned over in my 1974 Volkswagen Super Beetle to give her a hug goodnight… I would never be able to regain my innocence after what happened instead.

I never really had a ‘girlfriend’ of any substance until my senior year in high school. The only thing that came close before that was a girl named Jennifer. She was the daughter of some family friends. She was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen but I resorted to the fact that she didn’t really like me so I never assumed anything would happen. We were also about twelve or thirteen years old so we had more important things to do… Like swinging garden snakes around and flinging them in the woods. If I had a hunch that she liked me back then maybe things would have been a bit different. Meh, anyways.

I started working at Papa Murphy’s when I was seventeen or so. It was a strange new world for me. Pretty girls, crazy new friends and not a clue about what was really going on around me. I remember one girl who loved to come in towards closing and show off the fact that she never wore panties with a short skirt. It wasn’t for me though, it was for the owners brother. Maybe the owner too. Hell, maybe it was for any guy that would pay attention to her. I personally thought it was a bit of a turn off when she would… Actually, never mind that part of the story…

There was Sabrina, the girl I took to the Space Needle for homecoming. Later that night she wanted me to take her home because she was ‘tired.’ Even later that night she was spotted with a group of people out in town. Apparently I wasn’t a cool guy like that. Oh well, time eventually took its toll on her body. Then there was Krista, who I secretly had a crush on for the longest time but I pretty much put myself in the friend zone. Not sure if I was wrong or not on that one.

There’s plenty more people and stories from this particular time in my life, but one person in particular stole my heart. We were ‘friends’ pretty much the whole time. She had more of a grown up life than any of the rest of us in the group. We could talk about any of our issues without any reservations. She’d have guy problems or maybe I’d have (lack of) girl problems. Everything was cool. We meshed together in a way that even to this day I don’t fully understand.

As our friendship progressed in those last few years of high school, I learned more about what kind of person I was, and what kind of person I should have been. Richelle turned my world upside down. I destroyed it.

I was becoming enamored with the social atmosphere I found myself in and lost touch with the feelings of others. I was young, dumb and full of you know what.

After the robbery at Papa Murphy’s, I felt a coarse sense of connection with her. All the emotions running through my head didn’t help one bit to figure out what I was truly feeling. Part of me felt like a coward by running out of the store while she was still tied up. I really did it because it was the only option I had left. If it were part of my written story I’m not sure if it would be a beginning or ending of a chapter.

I took Richelle to my high school prom. I was pretty proud of the night that was set up. We took a limo to the Tacoma waterfront to eat at Shenanigan’s while a float plane waited out on the dock to take us back to Port Orchard. A bit over the top but what the hell right? She told me she was pretty nervous for the entire flight so not much conversation filled the cabin with us during that trip.

More importantly, she looked absolutely stunning that night. In fact every dance we attended together she commanded all my attention whether she knew it or not. I was still green with the whole ‘girl’ thing and even though we kissed before, I was still out of my league being with her so I never tried to push anything farther.

The night of my graduation party is a night that I’ll never forget. Richelle and I became closer than I ever imagined and I knew at that point she would be the one I live for. Until I went upstairs and went to sleep in my bed where another girl was sleeping. For the record, no sex was involved at either location. It was a night of semi-excessive drinking and the reason for the trip to my room is still unclear to me. When I awoke the next morning… Shit hit the fan… In comes Dave’s downward spiral. I don’t like to give any credit to myself saying I broke her heart, but given the reaction I think I did far worse than that.

I ruined a chance to create something great. I was in love with Richelle but my stupid ego and self-centered pride got in the way and prevented any hope from coming through my muddled life.

Richelle has a personality that is undeniably wonderful. She’s insightful to everything going on around her and has a way of making you feel inspired to be more than you ever imagined. She speaks her mind without being offensive and is the kind of woman that you can’t really win an argument against.

I wish I could have been a bigger part in her life in the past many years. She’s is happily married to her wife Gab and though current times are a little rough, she shines through as one of the few bright spots in my life. She is prevailing over adversity without even batting an eye and if I can approach life even to a small degree as how she does, I know I’ll be just fine.

I will always love her for so many reasons. She poked and prodded me out of my shell and maybe without fully knowing it, made me want to be a much better man than I’ve ever been. Of course, I can never forget that first kiss in the purple bug…


Not quite my dream…

There is a significant area of my life that I am subconsciously blocking out for reasons I’m not totally comfortable coming to terms with yet. Dave’s Burger Joint.

I’ve always wanted to open a restaurant of some sorts. Back in my late teens I had ideas of trying to open some sort of night club or ‘hang out’ place. I run in to many people that have at least formed opinions on how any given town needs ‘one of those places.’ I had a little more than a dream though. I had a viable goal to begin the journey someday.

The real reason I decided to join the military was that if I dared to ever expect any sort of respect from anyone else, I needed to prove my worth to a level beyond ordinary life experience. The day I woke up and decided to sign the dotted line, I had a definitely fuzzy vision on exactly what I wanted. Throughout my military career I was poked and prodded by different fates. I could go the whole twenty, maybe try for special forces, flight school… The possibilities were endless. The deciding factor in my decisions had roots at something that I’ve managed to accomplish incompletely.


I got out of active duty in 2008. The money was in the bank and I decided to make a cannonball run back to the west coast to begin what I was hoping would be the start of what I’d always hoped would come true. My own place.

My mom had opened a hot dog shop with remnant ideas stemming from a hot dog cart that me and her ran years and years ago. The family dynamics of this plan are being filtered out of this story as much as possible. Anyone who gets to know what kind of person I am, realizes that it’s a very hard topic for me to deal with. Anyways, I sort of re-opened a shop under the foundation that she had laid for the previous four years in that town. Peculiarly, I wanted to serve hamburgers instead of hot dogs and the name would eventually change to ‘Dave’s Burger Joint.’

Initially I wanted a simple place. Low overhead with more emphasis put on the food and service rather than ambiance. Influential input changed my vision more than I admitted to myself back then. I made myself be O.K. With that. I started to build out the new space with my own two hands. My father was in the hospital dealing with cancer and my mother was preoccupied taking care of him and other family affairs. I felt good about building this on my own and actually appreciated that some people kept a certain distance during this process.

It became a faux 1950’s themed quick serve restaurant. Neon accent lights, checkered floors, a vintage jukebox that still actually played 45 rpm records and an overall atmosphere that was clean and inviting. The burgers were damn good as well. In fact, just the other day at work I helped a couple that had moved to Moses Lake from Port Orchard. I asked if they had ever been to Dave’s and they lit up and said “oh yea, that place was great! Awesome food! We loved going there.” I then told them that it was me that opened it and eventually sold it. It felt good hearing that even years after selling what I created.

I discussed a bit of the catalyst behind my decision to sell it in a previous blog ‘Consumption’ but there is a part of the story that is quite unfinished. Essentially building a business from scratch and being able to sell it in this market environment is quite a feat. Especially for someone without deep pockets. With everything that happened in those two years I feel grossly unaccomplished. It was almost nothing of what I really wanted. I burned out on trying to uphold expectations for people that ultimately didn’t care what happened to my business if it didn’t benefit them. I know this because as soon as I sold, I lost about three quarters of people that I considered friends. That fact doesn’t bother me though. I’ve learned time and time again that so many people are only out for themselves.

I tried and I succeeded. I succeeded at something that wasn’t for me. I spent my financial and emotional resources on something only to learn a hard lesson. Money aside, there’s nothing worse than taking on a monumental dream with no one at your side. Not just anyone though. I’m sure there’s plenty of people that would have loved to been along for the ride, but I’m tough to please. If I sense any sort of disinterest, I usually find a way to push you aside unapologetically.

I not done with this dream. I’ve learned hard lessons and I’m hoping to tackle this again someday. Hopefully sooner than later. The obvious hurdle is finances in several aspects. Proper allocation of funds is paramount aside from the actual raising of money. Though it would be nice to work with a lump sum of cash, I have no problem working my ass off raising the money by the sweat of my brow. The hard part is finding the motivation to carry through with it. It’s not about the money, it’s about creating something greater. Fully realizing that fact makes all the hard work seem like child’s play. Until then, I find myself wanting to crawl in a hole and do things like look for a career instead of living a life of accomplishment.


My useless mind, body and soul…

A topic of interest for me is about metaphysical relationships. More so tonight I’m thinking about the relation of our mind to our bodies. I’m not aiming to touch on a religious aspect of this matter, but merely a reality of our existence as human beings.

Regardless of our distance from primal behavior there is something that we are missing from our own understanding about how we live. Our bodies are nothing more than a physical expression of what’s going on in our minds. The impure things that happen because of the existence of our bodies, is having a greater effect on us than we might give credit for. We allow our minds to be consumed entirely by ‘things.’ We judge success on money and wealth, not on our relationship with our souls. We allow pride and ego to rule our emotions because of physical desires.

I’m at a crossroads for finding motivation again to work out and eat a lot healthier. I started thinking about finding the willpower to do even more than simply work out and create a healthier body. An epiphany… It is commonly understood that our minds won’t (under normal operating circumstances) do anything to cause the body to break itself. Why not treat our bodies for exactly what they are. Objects. Masses of fats, proteins, carbons and whatever else can define the biological makeup.

Our bodies are not only good for creating and experiencing physical activity, but they also speak and communicate for our minds. When all is said and done our bodies will rot away and become the earth once more. The destiny of our souls may not be realized during our time here. It doesn’t matter though. If we can learn to take care of our minds, then we should simply realize that we can make our bodies do whatever we want. Given the time to refine the physical capacity of our body’s strength in function, we shouldn’t be as lazy as we’ve driven the human race to become.

What we speak of from our mouth ultimately guides us through life. (Speaking from the mouth roughly meaning any form of human to human communication). The knowledge we take from the physical world in which we create simply allows us to be better negotiators for function in the mundane world we created. A world of war, ego, materialism, pride, hatred, laziness, complacency. Mundane in the sense that what we are accomplishing as human beings isn’t a fraction of what we are ultimately capable of. How stupid would it look to see a colony of ants trying to build an ant hill, while the group itself tears down simultaneously what others have constructed?

If we all of a sudden spoke our minds without reservation, the current state of emotional capacity of the human race couldn’t handle the abrupt change. Complete and utter honesty. In theory it’s a nice thought. At this point, society as a whole will never be able to be completely absolutely honest with itself. As individuals however, how cool would it be to constantly realize that we are nothing more than self centered beings who don’t really care what another has to say or do? So why not speak out minds? Not be rude or disrespectful in any way, but honest and forthcoming with what our minds are interpreting at any given moment. It’s the whole ‘ dance like no one is watching’ thing. Who really cares what someone else thinks of who you are and what you choose to find interest in?

This whole idea is nothing really new to anyone in modern society. Whether we accept the notions or not, it’s common street-side therapy for souls lost in the mess we created for ourselves. Modern society is entirely consumed by the machines it has created. Hierarchies, statuses, roles, obligations… My idea of transitioning to a higher level of existence is a futile attempt against what we’ve created. Instead of spending our lives progressing as enlightened souls, we waste that energy on navigating through the remnants of what has been created to secure the physical and egotistical desires of the truly lost souls before us.

All that being said,why the hell don’t I just give in? I can become a gluttonous, sex craved, violence seeking human being. We’re all together in this right? If or when this world ever comes to an end, is it really going to matter? I think it does…


Hurry up, next chapter…

I’ve written before about being consumed by life. See ‘consumption.’ Back then, there was a bit more on my table than there is now but strangely there is a common feeling between now and then. Things are slightly out of my control right now. I’m at the mercy of decisions I’ve made to have faith in other people. My dignity is at risk because I may find myself stooping to a level that I haven’t been since I was in my late teens. I’m preparing myself for a confrontation with the machine of mediocrity. My impending job search will be in competition with others (some not all) who have managed to bullshit their way through educational and life experiences. Not that I’m Mr. experienced-in-everything, but I’m learning the true meaning of ‘wet behind the ears’ and how stupid I must have looked when I thought I knew everything at twenty-one.

I’ve had a few situations in recent time where I hoped I could influence someone to make a change to better their life. Why don’t people listen? Who cares? I truly do care for people and want them to make good decisions for themselves, but I guess a part of my quest to help others is more about me than I’d care to admit. Does that make it less sincere or less important? I sure hope not. I’m really not trying to gain anything or expect a payback of any sorts for succeeding at helping someone out. That last sentence was really obnoxious. I guess my recent thoughts are simply that there is more to my motivation for things than simply egotistical ‘friend-being.’

I have been consumed with a life that I hope to understand soon. Again, this concept is something that this blog project is meant to uncover with the hopes that I’ll create something good for at least someone, if not me.

I’m writing this hodgepodge of stuff tonight because I’m trying to get out of the mode of bitching and complaining all the time. Until I can find a way to center myself I have to be vague to avoid a literary aneurism.

I spent a good portion of my evening after work packing some stuff up to get ready for the next move…. Ugh… Back to the dorms. It’s a sad place really. Sort of refinished military barracks that are in slightly better condition than the barracks that were part of the scandal at Fort Bragg for being almost unlivable. Aside from the community showers, thin walls and inconsiderate neighbors, I’m looking forward to it. I’ll have my own space again. Sans an inclusive kitchen and bathroom, I’ll have a version of personal space that I seem to take for granted when I have it. The silver lining behind this decision to move back to the dorms is that when this next quarter is done I will have no choice but to make yet again, the next move. If I don’t quite have enough to relocate and take care of all my crap, I may squat for a few weeks in a comfy place and rid myself of extra baggage before hitting the road.

That simple plan is, if I do it alone… There’s a potentially wonderful twist to my plans and regardless of what happens, it will definitely be more than blog worthy… Stay tuned.