The political landscape in this country is a reproduction of democracy. It is not real, it is imagined. We have all noted in previous elections that it came down to a choice between the “lesser of two evils”.  We tolerate this? Why should we be forced to choose any evil?

Because we too are evil, or blind, or apathetic.

I personally have not voted in a Presidential election. The first time I was even inspired to vote was in the Republican primaries, and that was for Ron Paul. I watched the blogosphere and Internet press explode with the “Ron Paul Revolution”. Some co-workers and friends were caught up in the hype. I admit that sometimes I found myself getting really excited. (I also confess that I later secretly mocked those who acted similarly towards Obama) The reason why I see red flags when a large group becomes so blindly devoted is because I know this leaves us vulnerable to subtle and even direct manipulation.

The secret board of shadowy figures that rule this planet have been pulling the strings of the public mind for so long that they no longer hide it from us. The agendas of the global elite are coming to fruition (i.e., the rise of the global bank and economy, the socializing of the United States).  How do I know they are not hiding it from us? Because we know about it, and not just that, some of us think it is a good idea! I have friends I love that are devout socialists. Our bloated federal government has been promising to take care of us for so long that we forgot that this country was founded by people who took care of themselves. These patriots wanted to be freed from a tyrannical government, and wanted to live life as they saw fit.

What do we want in life? How do we want to live? Most of us are so distracted by the whirlwind of life that surrounds us that we all too often forget how to be happy. We are distracted by dead end jobs. we are distracted by merchandise, and by reality TV, and by cheese stuffed crust pizza. An early roman poet who probably felt as I do now, said “Panem et Circensus”, which translates to “bread and circuses”. Caesar had learned the equation to keep his empire at war and keep the masses subdued. Keep them entertained, and keep them waiting for handouts.

Does this sound familiar at all?

Situation Number One:
It’s the one that’s just begun,
But evidently it’s too late.

Situation Number Two:
It’s the only chance for you.
It’s controlled by denizens of hate.

Situation Number Three:
It’s the one that no one sees.
It’s all too often dismissed as fate.

Situation Number Four:
The one that left you wanting more,
It tantalized you with its bait.

-Jack Johnson

I find myself enjoying a simple song this morning. I have not had the luxury of enjoying too much of anything in the last few months, so I find it peculiar that I am still able to be in a fairly agreeable mood just about every morning.

I have some possible job opportunities coming up. If I do not get something soon, I will probably be heading back to Utah. I will try to prevent yet another move across state lines if possible, but these things are not always up to me. It is up to Him whom also gives me the joy to get through every day.

BTW… 16 months in…

201.8 pounds

36” Waist

Booyah!

Based on your smile
I’m betting all of this might be over soon
But you’re bound to win
Because if I’m betting against you, I think I’d rather lose

But this is all that I have so please
Take what’s left of this heart and use
Please use only what you really need
You know I only have so little so please
Mend your broken heart and leave

I never stood a chance. It was doomed from the very beginning. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to fall. I could have avoided this, and I wouldn’t be feeling what I am feeling now. Those who know me, however, knew it was inevitable. Yes, this has broken me.

I know it’s not your style
And I can tell by the way that you move it’s real real soon
But I’m on your side
And I don’t want to be your regret
I’d rather be your cocoon

If I wanted to be selfish then I would have no problems being someone’s regret. When I truly love someone, though, it is best to ensure their happiness regardless of how it leaves me feeling. Sometimes, in order to protect the person I love it means I cannot say those words, no matter how much it stings not to.

But this is all that you have so please
Let me take what’s left of your heart and I will use
I swear I’ll use only what I need
I know you only have so little so please
Let me mend my broken heart and…

I do need some mending right now. How can I mend, dear reader, when everyone else is broken around me. I promise you it wouldn’t take much to get me on the road to recovery- just someone to love me. But not JUST someone. I do want her.

You said this was all you had, and it’s all I need
But blah, blah, blah because it fell apart and
I guess it’s all you knew and all I had
But now we have only confused hearts and
I guess all we have is really all we need

So please
Let’s take these broken hearts and use
Let’s use only what we really need
You know we only have so little so please
Take these broken hearts and leave

I’m thinking that maybe it will take me walking away in order to recover from this. Leaving is something I do really well, dear reader.

I think I’ll start a new life
I think I’ll start it over where no one knows my name
I’ll get out of California, I’m tired of the weather
I think I’ll get a lover and fly em out to Spain
I think I’ll go to Boston
I think that I’m just tired
I think I need a new town to leave this all behind
I think I need a sunrise, I’m tired of the sunset

Life has a funny way of always turning out differently than expected.  I thought my life was nearing it’s end.  I was all but buried.  My health was failing.  My heart was broken.  I had given up.  I did not care.  I was ready for release.  God had different plans for me.

I have lost 217 pounds since my surgery on May 1st 2008.  I could tell you the many opportunities, dear reader, that have become available to me now that I have lost the weight.  I could tell you how life is no longer the dismal, and depressing.  I COULD tell you these things, but it wouldn’t be completely honest.

I cannot trust people.  I have allowed too many people to walk over me in the last 10 years.  Pre-Surgery Richie didn’t care, because well, why would he.  He had no life of his own.   He wouldn’t hesitate to give his last dime to his friend to help them out, even if it meant he would have to suffer a week till payday.  He would be emotionally available to the women he had fallen for, only to listen to them talk about the boy they are dating and how terrible they are.

Post-Surgery Richie, sadly, still is a pushover.  I have recently been told by a few people how predictable I am.  Good ‘ole predictable Richie.  After tonight, no more.  I cannot be that guy anymore.  I really need to re-discover what I want my life to consist of.  I have been so busy making sure the people around me are doing ok that I have completely forgotten how important it is to know how I am doing, and what I want in life.

I do not trust anyone anymore.  Everyone is suspect.  I am closed off.  This is me retreating.  Sorry, but this is the way it has to be.

I blame Disney for all the millions of disappointed women that never find their Prince Charming. I blame Cameron Crowe for allowing guys to believe it is romantic to be a stalker and stand outside some woman’s house, blasting a boom box.

All my instincts, they return
And the grand facade, so soon will burn
Without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside

Peter Gabriel – In Your Eyes

This is not right.

When I turned the page
The corner bent into a perfect dog-ear
As if the words knew I’d need them again
But at that time I couldn’t see it
I would read that page everyday for the next year

In some ways, I do wish my life was more like a movie. With a DVR we can rewind to the most favorite and appealing parts of a movie. There are many aspects of my life that I wish I could experience over again. I would like to bookmark these chapters so that I could revisit them anytime I wish. When I am done reliving that moment, I can just skip ahead past the embarrassing and boring parts. Live TV is just a click away.

We sat on a shoreline
Watching wind scalp the white off the waves
Sitting on a shoreline, and if I could do it
I’d dog-ear this page

Our memories will have to do. It is one thing, though, to think back on an event, and a completely different thing to be able to experience it again. To be transported back to a moment and once again be able to see, and smell, and touch, and feel… wouldn’t that be nice? We instead have to live every moment with the depressing knowledge that we will never live it again, and that our memories will one day fail us. Instead of letting this insight bring us down, we should let it inspire us to make the most of every second of every day.

We spoke about growing old
And filling the future’s empty stage

I am comforted, however, that my life is not a movie. My script is not written. I have the ability to deviate from any cliche lines. My director has given me the freedom to move about the set.

I wanna stand up, I wanna let go
You know, you know. No you don’t, you don’t
I wanna shine on in the hearts of men
I want a meaning from the back of my broken hand

Time is said to be the ultimate equalizer. On a long enough timeline anything is possible, even the unbelievable. In the 29 and a half years that I have been alive (a very short amount of time by any standard, and a minuscule speck of existence when compared to the unfathomable concept of eternity) I have experienced the incredible. The people I have met. The things I have seen. The joy I have felt. The love given to me. Hitting rock bottom. Being lifted back up. I have many stories to tell. I have been told by many that if it was not for my earned credibility, these stories would be considered works of fiction.

I can hardly believe some of these memories myself. I have gone through many transitions in my life. I was raised in an ultra conservatively Christian home, and grew up with high expectations and standards. At an early age my mental abilities and overall intelligence were gauged to be much higher than average. I was pushed in ways that some could not even imagine. If my science project did not make it to state fair level, I would be devastated. A grade of A- in school would end my world. In the first grade, I was put in higher grade classrooms for math and other subjects. This made it difficult to make friends with, well, anyone.

The obvious detachment from normal social groups due to my odd behavior and intelligence was intensified by the fact that, as a child, I had to wear leg braces. I was born pigeon toed. There were many complications surrounding my birth. To begin with, my mother was told by many physicians that she could never have children. When she found out she was pregnant with me (the first of four children), the doctors suggested she terminate the pregnancy to avoid any risk of injury or death. My mother, to the dismay of my father, decided to go full term. Many problems occurred leading to me being born premature, and jaundice. In the womb my hip was twisted causing my legs to turn inward, which is why, to this day, some will notice that my feet turn in while walking. I was finally able to stop wearing the leg braces after a few years, when it was discovered that they were not working at all.

Moving from Rancho Cucamonga to Rialto became a time of rebirth for me. New city, new schools, new friends. I didn’t have to be who I was, I could be something completely different. I was no longer the outcast with leg braces who went to higher grade level classes for math, science and english. My intelligence, however, was still recognized. This led me to the GATE Program of California. GATE (Gifted and Talented Education) became the perfect outlet for me. I was able to socialize with people who were like me. The friendships I made were profound, especially with those outside the GATE program. Life opened up to me. By the time I entered the 7th grade, life was much more than books, and science projects, and grades. I had become addicted to having real connections with people, something I had lacked in my childhood.

Another head aches, another heart breaks
I’m so much older than I can take
And my affection, well it comes and goes
I need direction to perfection, no no no no

Truth be told, my addictions had started increasing. Some of the relationships I made were not the healthiest, and were with the morally subdued. The social ineptness of my youth left me vulnerable. I started experimenting with acid, pot, and speed. This had a huge impact on my ability to make rational decisions. Fortunately, I had also made some truly amazing friends that helped me through these rough times.

This was also around the time that I rediscovered (read: discovered) my spirituality. Being part of the worship band and a leader in the youth ministry helped ground me. I re-honed my passions in life. Music has always been a passion, and I was finally in a place where I could put it to great use. I was surrounded by moral people who loved and cared about me. They were my guides. They kept me accountable.

After leaving the youth ministry my life reverted back to how it was prior to joining. Drugs once again plagued me. This time, Meth became the drug of choice. I became morally bankrupt. Some of my most unbelievable stories come from this time of my life. I hardly enjoy talking about it, but those who know me well, have heard a story or five.

Help me out
Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don’t you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out, yeah

Hearts and souls are in need of constant refueling.  This time, I needed to do my own refueling without aid from anyone. I could not rely on surrounding myself with those that made it easy for me to make right decisions. I needed to learn how to make the correct choices on my own. I needed to learn what it was like to truly fall without a safety net. Leaving California became my only hope. This ultimately led me to where I am now.

I am not ashamed of my past, nor do I regret how I was raised or the heartaches I have endured. This has shaped me to who I am now and what I am to become. My recent surgery has also become a a tick mark on my timeline. I wonder how I will look back on what I am going through now.

I can honestly say that I have not been this happy in such a very long time. I enjoy life again. I have also recently met some awesome people here whom I’m fortunate enough to call ‘friend’. I hope I can be the positive influence for them that they are for me.

I got soul, but I’m not a soldier

Tonight I’m tangled in my blanket of clouds.
Dreaming Aloud.
Things just wont do without you, matter of fact.
I’m on your back.
If you walk out on me, I’m walking after you.

Letting go of something is among the hardest (read: “heart”est) things one can do. Whether it is a possession, dream, hope, or love; we all make strong mental and emotional attachments to that which we desire. Giving up on or letting go of such desires cause a breakdown of the utmost importance. Learning to cope with these breakdowns is, in fact, one of the human race’s most profound accomplishments.

Some cope better than others. There are many different methods in dealing, and the success rates vary. There are those who futilely do their best to hang on to what they lost, and in turn, never truly let go. Others will convince themselves that what they had wasn’t important enough to mourn the loss of in the first place, while, others still, will begin to mourn their loss, and then too quickly find something new and shiny to placate their desire.

I am guilty of attempting all of these methods during my times of loss. The older I get, however, the more I realize that IT IS OKAY TO BE SAD AND HEARTBROKEN. Feeling a deep loss is part of our human experience. It allows us to reflect, learn and grow. It is perfectly fine for us to spend time mourning that which we have lost (or could never have), until we are ready to want something else. I fear that those who utilize the aforementioned ways of dealing, will not learn from their errors, and will be doomed to repeat them.

Another heart is cracked, in two, I’m on your back

These are my heart songs
They never feel wrong
And when I wake for goodness sake
These are the songs I keep singing

My strongest emotions are tied to music. Those whom I call friends already know this. Those that actually read this wandering, less than idealistic record of uninspired thoughts, may have also stumbled upon this truth.

Some say music can heal broken hearts, but it does not. Music can offer solace and be a much needed companion during the times that exist in between our moments of bliss. Music can also be our dance partner on the stage of euphoria.

The time line of my life is divided not by career, nor love interest (or subsequent heartache) but instead by pitch and key. Every day presses a different note, and strums a new chord. The beats vary, and rhythm ebbs and flows. The end of my existence will result in a symphony so very beautiful, flawed, pure and terrifying.

I hope to share my heart’s composition before it’s conclusion. I even pray that someone finds it worthy of adding their harmony to my melody.

Tell her what was wrong
I sometimes think to much
But say nothing at all

Sometimes it is not easy to say what needs to be said. Most of the time if the words are hard to find, it is probably for the best. This prevents me from needing to remove my foot from my mouth as frequently as I already do.

What about the times, however, when I need to express a sentiment, or a feeling to someone, and I just cannot gather the strength of will to do so? Maybe this too, is also for the best. Many have said, including myself, “What is the worst that could happen?” Well, in the predicament I am in, there is a plethora of that which could go wrong.

Tell her something in my mind
Freezes up from time to time

Vows are spoken to be broken.
Feelings are intense. Words are trivial.
Pleasures remain. So does the pain.

The move to the new house is near completion.  Most of my life’s belongings are unpacked and placed at their arbitrarily decided new location, where they will remain until I decide to move again and pack them away for an indefinite amount of time.  I am really comfortable in my new room.  It feels like home to me, more so than I have felt since I moved away from Rialto 7 years ago.

The one thing that disturbs me most about my new residence is the fact that it is so quiet.  In the apartment I recently abandoned, I had neighbors above me whose favorite hobby was to keep my roommates and myself as awake and annoyed as possible.  They honed this skill to perfection.  The neighbors across from us had a cockatiel that would chirp incessantly. I was definitely looking forward to moving and enjoying a new found silence.

Silence can sometimes be intensely emotional and turbulent.  In a conversation between two people, a lot can be said by saying nothing at all.  This kind of silence I can enjoy.   The look in someones eyes, or the body language of an individual speaks louder than any word in any language.  Words are akin to the slight of hand and misdirection a magician uses to distract you from reality.  Words are meaningless and forgettable.  What would we say if we could only speak truths about how we really feel?

In our busy, everyday activities we become so used to the background noise of life.  We tune most of it out. We hardly pay attention to it.  But we need it.  When left with only inner dialogue I am frightened by the realities of my life.  Words are seductively deceptive; thought is abstract, honest and scary. It wasn’t always this way for me.  I used to be extremely satisfied while trapped in my own head, alone.  Something changed, and I need to figure out what.