Turning off the light

I am finding it very difficult to be this adult, parent-like person everyone wants me to be.

Check that: this adult, parent-like person people hope I aspire to be.

I can’t adjudicate with regard to how to parent or dispense fairly, with respect to children. I can’t separate myself from judgmental to empathetic when someone has greatly disappointed me. I lack empathy to someone who is doing wrong, and my emotion indebtedness has left me, because of history, to question every thing this person says or does. I can’t give advice without wanting to also hand down a punishment worthy of the mendacity laid at my door.

I don’t think I’d make a fair parent. I’m wise, despite periods of frailty and immaturity, but I don’t think I can wield the specter of parenthood as a apt as others have or should. Perhaps this in itself lies the growth aspect. One can’t be told he’s a good father or father-figure, but has to experience the path. Parenthood is a road, not a destination.

3 weeks of uncertainty

I’ve learned thus far that it’s far easier to assemble a 500 piece lego set than be an adult on any given day. This afternoon was the most trying, insofar that I’ve found myself on three occasions being the “better person” in a disagreement I would have otherwise, on any other terms, won. Years before, this time of year, around my birthday, is typically exciting for me.

It’s Christmas!

And yet, now an adult, I’ve come to view this time of year, the end of the calendar year, as being extremely exhaustive. Maybe it’s not so much the adult-holiday conundrum, but the entirety of 2014. It’s been a very taxing year for me. Very So much so, I’d like to take a raincheck on the festivities and sit this one out.


Perhaps as a teenager or younger adult I would be unable to explain myself or feelings, but being much older I am well versed in how I perceive the world around me.

All in all, I need a break. A break from the “keep at arm’s length” communication or stray dog treatment.

Maybe these visuals are a tad excessive, but they don’t belie why I really need a raincheck from the next three weeks.


Chargers vs Patriots

I don’t enjoy writing live commentaries. I’m not a videogamer. I’m not endorsed to play video games live for an audience.

Yeah, I don’t get off on writing or updating on the fly, but here I am. So, my 2014 Christmas tree has been standing in the corner for 48hrs now, waiting to be dressed in her holiday jewelry and colors. Waiting, still.

Don’t worry, the tree isn’t being made to suffer for the fail safe of others. The Fir is seated in its steel tree stand, warm water to the brim.

The tree should have been decorated a day ago.

A day.

But for reasons of personal interests over a yearly tradition, the tree has been made to take third place in a competition it didn’t ask to be a part of. I want to decorate the tree on my own, but that would probably add to the what’s going on here.



Summa Cum Laude

Today’s employment climate is looking bleaker with each changing quarter as States are ordered by their governing principalities to curtail spending, or in some cases make cuts to programs that are necessity to everyday citizens.

However, the Nation’s financial impairment isn’t readily felt by all, as there exists a beneficial demography who lie immune to the recessionary shock-waves coming from all angles. The media, whether digital or published, seeks to disprove the atmosphere of recession, and serve up(on a platter or by escort) a world where the hardtimes have subsided, and the worse has been met.

Regardless of their porported information or denial of economic woe, there does exist a group, like swatches of color, that suffers–nonetheless.


Standing in Place

I should have written this last night, when the critical emotions and thoughts were lined up in tandem. I shouldn’t have gone to bed, allowing brooding confusion and disappointment to float away with the tide, leaving whatever is left of me on shore…and still in harm’s way. I was lazy. I don’t even know if I can conjure forth the words to explain what I’m actually feeling.




Regret, more so?



I don’t expect change overnight.

I can conjure up a range of times I’ve displayed gratuity, whether in public with friends or to a stranger or colleague while talking on the phone. So, for me, I don’t have an issue with sharing my appreciative moments. But, how about I share with you an experience of someone else. Their…lack of.

Imagine, if you will, today is Christmas, and upon opening all the gifts, you find one wrapped package the same size, weight, and length of a particular phone you been talking about ad nauseum for 2 months. After showing your overly excited appreciation, you begin about the puerile chore of taking pictures of your new phone, texting from your new phone, and even creating videos. All from your new phone. Your visual appreciation showing no end.

Now fast forward some 8 months later, as a newer model of your present holiday phone hits the market. And those who once watched you overspill with enjoyment over having your barely year old smartphone; one popularized by pop culture, media, and peer groups alike, watch in discomfort to your replaced emote: Misplaced obsolescence and contempt.

Now, with visual inveigh, you go about your day berating, sharing your disgust over how “sluggish” your gift is. You lash out at its irresponsiveness in public, not loudly, but just within “our” earshot. You whine at the phone’s inability to swap between applications like its “newer” refresh does in the commercials. When asked “why isn’t your phone in a protective case( the five you’ve purchased to keep the phone safe from drops and stylish in public), you respond “it doesn’t fit in my back pocket…” or “…who cares the phone is stupid.”

Yes, you refer to the phone, when compared against it’s faster, more technology-enabled sibling, as “stupid.”

Do older siblings refer to their younger refresh as “stupid”?

How embarrassing.

Fast-forward to the present.

“They can miss me with this old phone.”
“They think I’m gonna deal with this slow, 8GB phone. I better get a new phone.”
“This phone is so wack and slow. *Proceeds to punch the phone as if this might help* “Look! It doesn’t even work! *Punches the phone a second time*

But we’re not just commiserated by these recent antics, noooooo, we now have to suffer through the hopeless, self-destructive theme of watching you drop the phone(did i mention this person doesn’t use the protective cases anymore?), without a care on whether the phone breaks or not.

However, Fate shined this day. As this evening’s drop of the phone on granite proved to be your death knell.

Blank screen.

When plugged in all of the notification icons are blacked out(I’ve never seen such a thing before).

When asked ” am I going to get a new phone now?

No, you will have to make due without a phone for a while. If you would have taken the time to protect the investment given to you, I wouldn’t have a problem getting you a new phone. But then, after recent events, what message would I be sending?

It’s unfortunate the phone had to endure this insufferable neglect; this prolonged, agonising torture just for a lesson in gratuity to be merited out.


Truer words

“We almost made it.
I almost called you “mine,”
And you almost called me “yours.”

I think we almost loved each-other.

But the only thing I was sure about is that
 almost wasn’t good enough.”

Nautica Elaine Woods, I Needed A Guarantee, Not A Hypothetical