There is no wall
There are no boundaries
It's all an illusion


I've painted a wall around my room. Symbolic and simple I enjoy the constant reminder that while I have simultaneousy 'walled' my self in much like Roger Waters, I also understand that the wall is a nothing more than a mere illusion, my allusion for my perception of my life.

If I can accept this, I can overcome it. If I cannot face myself, to create my self, then I'll fail just like everyone else...

"well, I've been very silent lately. Too silent? well, I am in the midst of some sort of quarter life crisis." - me on may 6th

thank god that shit is done.
Sometimes you see the change that you must become but you are afraid to change because you know you'll never be that you again. Change is never easy when you are happy with your self and far too easy when you are not. I prefer a difficult challenging change knowing that it contains the greater reward.

what is new? Direction and confidence
what was lost? a little bit of apathy and comfort

ypsi high special ed. kickball, its fannnnntastic!!!
today I witnessed the most intense, if by intense you mean chaotic, game of kickball in the history of time; balls were bouncing off of wheelchairs, kids were running to the wrong bases, and everyone, everyone, was having a blast. I just sat on the third baseline, a dangerous place with all those precision hitters, enjoying the game with another teacher, clapping my ass off, and a hootin' and a hollering.


on opiates:
I am sorry to say but the best drug experiences in my life, not the most important (that was reserved for the psychedelics), have all involved opiates in one form or another. I enjoy the body buzz but most importantly I love how they don't fuck with my head: rather than serving to expediate or concentrate that, but without dimming thought, they kinda keep shit simple. Meaning when I pop a couple of vicodins I can feel no pain physically and tend to focus on that pure pleasure, therefore not pondering life and all of its implications.
Pondering life and all of its implications gets to be such a burden. Sometimes a nice little vacation would do some good. But, I work a zillion hours, never have time off, and don't have the most sound home life, so sometimes I pop a pill. I see no harm in it. We aren't talking about an every day thing, or even a weekly thing, we are talking about once or twice every three months or so. And I like it so I talk it up. So what?
As for heroin, I have always wanted to try the king of all drugs. Who doesn't? In some small place we all recognize that it would feel good, we just respect the dangerous aspects of the use of such a drug and refrain. And I have. And I will continue to... for a while. IF I ever do try heroin some of you may be invited, but I won't be able to tell anyone else because they just won't understand.
Do I condone drug use? No. I think it is only for the strong willed, introspective, person searching to gain some perspective on our present state... is there anything really wrong with that?

Consequent of all this conversation I got to talking with the girl I've been dating about my inability to accept other people's wisdom. In the course of the conversation, vicodin use was brought up. I mentioned the conversation with the other girl, she just looked at me like a jackass. I immediately knew that she wasn't the one for me.
How can I date a woman who won't accept me for the confusingly hypocritcal person that I am? Not that I am a hypocrite, just that I understand there is a time and a place for everything... and she doesn't so I guess I'll be alone again... or maybe I won't, maybe I just won't talk about what bothers me/her and we can have an all-american wedding? Don't bet on it...

Last night I watched a little black girl and a little white boy dance and play all evening. As beautiful as it was cliche I couldn't help but be overcome with sorrow. These poor kids, they don't know what hate means. But someday they will. Someday they will begin dividing and parsing everyone they meet.
and they won't think of themselves as racists or any other strong stigmatism, they'll just be caught in the web of a society that divides and parses its members, one feeding upon another.

I invest the majority of my time and thought to the understanding of life. I get frustrated by my unnattainable ideals. It depresses me to think about the hatred and self interest dominating the world.
- my brother's bio from his blog

I love my brothers more than anyone on this planet. more than my mother, more than my father, more than mfriends. Probably because they alone have lived through my ordeals. I say my, I should say 'our' ordeals.

Looking back on my life I have no rock bottom moments, no serious injuries, not even a few grave injustices. I guess I had a couple whore ass girlfriends and maybe a period with too many drugs, but nothing serious: nothing even close to trauma. Even my most profound sadness is drawn from a parents devorce nearly 20 years ago, and even that is more societal than personal.

Self interest drives the hatred, not the other way around. Actually when I look at the 'evils' of our society I boil them down to nothing more than a serious, somewhat psychotic, self interest; we, the people, have reached a point where we can except the things we can't change only to realize that we control nothing more than ourselves. From this point we have come to 'take control of our lives' at all cost... and the divorce papers are filed, luxuries are purchased, and trips are taken while our children suffer a lack of love. The children in turn grow up looking out for themselves, the cycle repeats...

My brothers and I suffer from the same sadness. Its tough to put a finger on unless you yourself are a victim of divorced parents. I don't even know if this is the forum to have the conversation...

Anyway, when you are young your family is your life. When that unit cracks everything else falls. Then when you are a little older, and still determined, you tell yourself that this girl here, she is the one, and you are going to succeed where your parents failed. You don't, and the whole world crumbles again. Then you spend the rest of your life fundamently challenged by an uneasy realization that love does not last. And if god is love, again and again we're told, then what is permanent? And if nothing is permanent is there any point at all? Here the answers vary...

I don't know what I am trying to say, I guess I am just trying to explain that the children of divorced parents will never be happy until they've created there own productive family unit. I believe that is why chris is so happy these days. Bob and myself on the other hand deal with the burden in opposing manners. He constantly chases every possibility seeking to prove the critics wrong while I constantly avoid every opportunity, afraid to fail again...
I've got to change, that was the fear I was talking about earlier - the fear that maybe I am unloveable at some innate level... maybe I am taking it too far, but I do know that what I need now is a little love, a little someone to spend my nights with, and dating these girls of late rather than filing the void are reminding me just how hard it is to establish an open honest relationship befitting of your desires. I can't just up and go out there, I have to wait for what I want.

Right now I see what I want, I just have to figure how to get her...

un dia esta semana...
I sat accross the table from what I consider to be one of the most beautiful women around. She confided in me her boss had told her she should wear make-up while implying that her looks weren't exactly up to par. Her confidence was shaken, me I was dumbfounded. I listened to her story in a daze; I couldn't believe the effect one woman could have upon another.
It was true, she didn't wear make-up all that often, but I just didn't see how that mattered and I couldn't quite comprehend how a girl couldn't just go by the guy's point of view... it was so serious it shook my own faith.
Same girl, about an hour later, told me I shouldn't be taking so much vicodin. I didn't listen. I'd spent a whole hour listening, and giving advice, but I couldn't take the criticism of my self. Funny how our ears are so selective.
When I begin using herion I am sure I will say its an every so often thing... I hope it stays that way, cause I just love the opiates. I do, what can I do about it? Alcohol and everything after has become so passe. Eventually the pills won't be enough and I'll need some more: "I used to do a little but a little wouldn't do, so a little got more and more, just kept trying to get a little better said a little better than before". I didn't make the rules, I just follow...
quisiera un poco mas

at least chris comments... keeps me going.
All I have done for the last month is work, except a nice 48 hour binge with jared, and now I am exhausted. I called off subbing today and slept from midnight to noon. That cannot be a healthy sign. Even when I am not working I am going to pistons games, watching movies, and playing softball. So I really can't complain. But I am going to sleep in tommorrow and sunday...

keep commenting chris; you're all I've got.

Things are going good lately; I feel more comfortable with my life. Something about calling a spade a spade, going out and getting what you want. Life is in fact a garden, dig it. You gotta keep on keeping on.

I'd like to 'show' more than tell here, but I don't feel like going into specifics; a boy's gotta have his secrets... I am toying with the idea of doing write ups for sports contest, or newspaper articles of some sort. IF, and thats a big if, I come up with something I am comfortable with I will post it here...

eat, drink, and be merry friends.

I'm moody. So what? I am a very emotionally driven person. Naturally I am going to be 'up' sometimes and 'down' others: thats just the way it is going to be.

As I have grown, I have sought not to change the person I am, but rather 'manage' myself to a more effective degree. I do this by avoiding trouble situations and mentally preparing my self for unavoidable 'trouble' situations. I also do this by playing roles: In school I am everything I think that a teacher should be, in class I attempt to embody the characteristics of a productive student, while at work I try to dually work as hard as possible and to push the political issues of job responsibilites (I think both are important characteristics of a strong employee; don't give me none of that ditchdigger bullshit), and finally when I am at play I try to be whomever I am most comfortable being. Consequentally I am driven by the people/situation around me as much as anything else.

I think this is a rather productive way to live: try to be the best at each little angle. However, it can lead to some identity questions, heightened by newer friends who haven't experienced me in a variety of roles...

for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost my self...

Crazy long dreams last night. First one I am in my back yard, all these white glowing, ex-fileish, aliens are surrounding me and I feel completely comfortable. I woke up and lay in bed; I couldn't stop feeling this sense of peace. (of course I then rolled over allowing my scrapped up knee, softball, to touch the sheets and howlled in pain) Other dreams involved friends and wierd phones. My favorite involved me eating a snickers, the whole dream I am walking through a retail store eating the best snickers of my life. What kind of fucking dream is that?

I think I was exhausted and a little euphoric when I layed down last night. My eased mind probably spured these dreams. Probably, if there is any purpose to dreaming... I do know that dreams of eating candy bars are cool with me...

The last month I have been pushing my self with work and have not had a 'day off' in a very long time. I like it. I feel productive. Now thats not to say that I can't wait for the high school to close so I can get some of that sleep back.

In school this semester I got an A- in my english methods class (would have been an A had I not missed so many classes). Sure makes me feel better after that rousing E in spanish methods last fall.

I also recieve a B+ in my spanish literature. That is the literature of spain, not so much the literature created by spanish speakers. The catholic church in Spain simultaneously prevented so many great works and spawned such heroic responses. If I ever get a chance I would like to read some more literature specifically directed at this topic: the catholic church in spain and its strangle hold over literature and works of theatre... some day, be it suffice to stay that religion took that country from splitting the world in two with Portugal to rotting in debt in less than two hundred years... then there were outside rulers and finally a civil war... and a worse dictator after that...

today I just feel tired. We split our softball games. One come from behind win, one ass kicking that exposed all of our weaknesses. I did not play well. At all... but that is life...
now its time for bed.

I'm listening to 'Man of the hour', just finished watching 'big fish'... yesterday I was riding home late at night. It occured to me that I don't remember what it felt like to miss shannon. I can't even draw upon the emotion anymore...
Now, she isn't important, nor is the emotion really. What is important is that I am old enough to begin forgetting some of my seminal moments. I can't tell you how I felt walking home from bursley the night I knew it was over, I can tell you what happened, or even the emotion I felt. But I can't quite grasp the emotion entailed and feel it again today... not that moment at least...

later on I thought of a million other instances, brad breaking my shot glasses, the wet illinois football game, other moments. Sometimes I could capture the emotion, reflect of the feeling, other times I only knew what happened...

I remember everything. I might try to pretend that I don't, or be unable to deal with what I've seen, but I remember everything, every little detail as to how I percieved it at the time. I always have. And I assume that we do/could if we wanted to.

But what about that which I ignore? OR when I say I forgot? I am lieing, every time I am lieing... I remember...

I'd like to turn this page into more of a memoir, or a place to relate what has happened, when it happened, and a little bit of how I felt. I don't know why, exactly, or just where I am going with this, just that I'd like to talk about me for a little while. not my philosophy, not my take, but my life...

Being as open as I am noone ever ask how I really feel: everyone seems to take me at face value assuming that my motives are out in the open (my hidden motives are often obvious - I know this, it is one of the few things I don't talk about). Of course its all a defense mechanism: if I am bitching about school noone is asking about my girlfriend...

This all has to change... I do fear being honest, about anything. I fear what other people will think, I fear that you won't listen anyway, I fear you may label me insane, or unimportant at least, I fear a lot of things. Some of this is good - keeps me socially honest. Some of it isn't so bad - but I'd still like to cut the crap...

I really do remember everything... everything... and unlike ginsberg who was thrilled at the propostition I feel a weight I must almost call Kerouacian. That is if such a thing exist...

and then there was silence...

I've come to a pause in my life, at least writing wise, most likely I'll leave this page alone until I understand just what I want to do with it. I think we've been here before. I am terminate the whole thing, like I did before, I may just change the slant, but one way or another I need a slant (preferably schoolastic (sp?)); I don't know what I have here but it doesn't read all too coherently...
to tie some lose ends: things are good, I am reading alot, I still get some good ideas, but nothing paragraphs in length, just little snipits. I did start asking girls out, it's going well so far, I am playing softball again, we won our first two games monday night, school is good but may is a lot like friday, everyday is a friday, and I don't feel like I am really helping anyone... maybe I am...
well, that's it for now... if you've got time, give me a call; I 'd like to see those of you whom I haven't since december...
love,
jdon

war tiger nation!
war lions 10-6
war jdon for softball mvp
out

well, I've been very silent lately. Too silent? well, I am in the midst of some sort of quarter life crisis. This is not the usual where am I going, where have I been crisis. Nonmaterial is my infliction; I just can't get my philosophies/feelings to line up.

I guess, for the purposes of this page's brevity, it all comes down to jesus vs. science. Emotion vs. logic. Unfortunately I find it quite reasonable that Jesus is the son of god and did come down to teach us forgiveness of sin. What I don't believe is that the church should have any political power or that people shouldn't make their decisions based on their own perspective, which of course is going to be driven by their religion.

Its enough to make me agnostic. I do know that atheism is sucker's bet. so, I've got that going for me...

There is so much more that is hard to explain here. I am angry, I need to rant, but I don't know at who or what about. now what sense does that make? I've always been a child first, rational adult second. I swear, I almost punched a dude at work today for running his mouth at me. A piece of shit nobody telling me, in front of everyone, that my opinion doesn't mean a fuck to him. God, I wanted to beat him senseless, and yet I know that fighting solves nothing (who the fuck taught me that?)... so, I just blew it off and walked away... walked away... I am getting tired of walking away waiting for whatever. Just what am I waiting for anyway? there are no better people anyway, right? I should have just flattened his face: spit venom. but big pussy, big brained me walked away.

why should doing the right thing hurt my pride? its all based on primal forces my friends... primal forces that say might is right.

And reason laughing as he confuses me, giving me contradicting logic: fighting solves nothing vs. smack him in the face and he won't seem so serious.

but that little situation could be nothing more than a metaphor. yes, it happened, but only later did I feel like punching him.
I feel like I'm ten again, doing the right thing and getting shit on for it.

what do I stand for, to you? can you really think of a flattering remark that can't be undone by my own twisted logic of rampage? (what the fuck does that mean?)

I'm done; thats enough of this.
be it suffice to say that I don't feel like writing right now, I simply don't know what I want to say...

everything else is well, I'm reading, I'm communicating, and I'm making friends(even the man I wanted to punch later told me 'you just get too excited sometimes', and he's right of course)

and jesus did exist and there is no heaven so take that for what it is worth...

fade into dmb end of last stop "come in from the cold for a little while... "

she either thinks its a good idea, or she doesn't. But, there is no reason not to ask...

somewhere along the way I decided that I should take a little bit more of an active role in finding a girlfriend, or at least a few dates. So... I asked a couple different girls out this semester. One kept saying yeah, but always had an excuse; I think she thought I was nice but wasn't particularily interested (at all). The other said yeah. And we'll see where that one goes...

two converstions:
One with dan: yesterday about how girls really are just a contact sport: the more your contact teh better your luck, and its not like its an insult if they aren't interested in a drink; you don't know what's going on in their life, maybe they just don't have time...

another with James S. (in NY): this one was a little more bleak because he was pointint out how unless you live in New York, Chicago, Miami, some big city, all the pretty/worthwhile girls are married by 22. He got me thinking about joining some dating service so I could pick my dates.
- I think I'd like some business women...
we'll see.