The family(minus Chris, plus Pat) ->

Me and Jay

Me and my Mexifriends

Holy shit, I can now add pictures too my blog... This could get exciting. I've just got to find all my naked photos, oh wait thats probably not what you want to see...

there is a real comfort in opportunity/change. I like to think of all the places I can visit, all the people I will meet, and all the lives I'll lead... and yet it seems as though one thing will remain the same: the beer bottle will be in every photograph.

There are so many people I'd like to be. So many lives I'd love to lead. And yet how can I be anything other than me? I want to write books, I want to live in other lands. I want to teach children and grow as a part of a community. I want to be loved. I want to be needed. Sometimes I just want to be there. Sometimes I want to be asked what I think, others I wouldn't mind being told what to do... I definitely want to matter. And I usually do. Sometimes we get what we want...
I want to rock. I'd like to write an album. I'd rather just play a show with my dad. I strum my guitar day to day. Sometimes I learn a new song, or play along with an older one. Sometimes I write songs. i did just the other day. I should be recording all of this. I should be recording everything. I'd like to be a recorder, much like kerouac. Often I think I'd like to be Kerouac, and yet he was so sad. I like to be sad, but I don't want to stay there. Sadness is like a little vacation; it clears your head, reminds you of home. My home isn't sadness, but a part of it is.

Right now I have two months (july and august) wherein I could do whatever I'd like. I could write a book, I could organize my poems. I could write an album, I could join a band I guess... I'd like to get in shape. I'd really like to hit the weights. I feel fat and ugly sometimes. Not all the time, just sometimes. It's ok, I am. If I don't get in shape now I never will. I figure you've got from 25 to 30 to determine what body you'll have till your fifty. I'd like to run more, eat less its just so hard, and honestly I lack the determination. OF all my assests the one I miss the most is my determination. What was the last think I set out to accomplish and did? I basically slide through on the strength of my wit. I get by. I get by but I could do so much more.... I guess I just need a little push and maybe this is it. Two months empty enough to indulge in my interests...

on second thought I am pretty determined to be a teacher and I am succeeding at that. And it certainly hasn't been easy but I have stuck around. So I got that to hang my hat on...

I don't know if there is any one 'point' to this post - more of a way to align my thoughts... Tommorrow I am going to either go shave my head or I am not. Whichever way I choose I'll know where I am headed...
good night,
jdon

Its interesting to note that as I grow older my youth becomes more and more important to me... something about regression? I don't know. But I do know that when I play softball, or listen to a baseball game, I feel like I am 7 years old again and there is something incredibly soothing about that.

I don't know... I wanted to have something to say on friendship but I wandered and read every poem I ever wrote... When I was younger I didn't have any friends. Not till highschool, not till james and joe, and eventually shannon and anne and mark and nick and dan and on into college on into eastern on into today. I think I have a lot of friends. I like a lot of people. I'd help them out if they needed it, but more importantly I'd talk to them and that makes them my friends. I'd even talk to my enemies.... I don't know if I have enemies, other than the police. I guess there are some people I don't like, but even them I'd like to like. I try to try.
Friendship is everything. God is love and everything after. Friendship is love in motion, intertwining and rededicating each and every moment to god... I think friendship is holy. I think the point of religion is to make friends. Idon't think I am wrong. Not at all. friendship is purpose in and of itself...
All those formulative years I thought everyone hated me, just because I was me. I hated them, but as soon as I was accepted I acclimated... I try to be a friend to everyone. I am a friend to everyone. Even when I am cussing, even when I am complaining, crying, bitching, and moaning I am just trying to be your friend, your real friend. Never pull punches, friends don't pull punches, they punch you right in the face, stab you in the heart, not the back... friends friends friends... Friends advise, but friends understand, friends don't want to change anything about you, but we'd like to see you happy, thats why we harp and carry on. Would you rather we didn't care?
Friends are functional...
At the end of the day I like everyone and would work with anyone... even Don, probably the only person I'd like to see rot in hell, even him I'd help if I could. But you won't catch me going out of my way...

Newest submission to my wall: why not get out there and live?
simple enough and yet I must remind my self every so often... live and love, live and love...

The best part of my life? The ability to have nights light this:

The mission: While sorting through my old journals, notebooks, texts, papers, etc., I will try to figure out just how well I got from point A (UofM summer of 2000) to here... All the while I will be drinking and planning the begining of my next project: James and my idea to create a collective work, including Nick, Dan, Leblanc, friends and family, to include art, paintings by james and dan, poetry, poems by me and nick, essays Leblanc, and all other mediums on the theme of friendship.
The goal: a solid one page introduction to an essay on my thoughts on the roles my friends have played in my developement and I on theres.
My slant: developement: friendship as a means to carry out our lives plans...

I think I can do this.

I love Chris and Lea because they comment.

Side note: If I do stay in the U.S. I want to live in a big city...

On the world over:
We travel, we live in different cities, states, and nations. We see tiering of social classes and we assume familiarity the whole world over. And yet, that couldn't be farther from the truth. The one universal truth, tiering, aside everywhere has a different flow, a different pace, and far different values. So, no I do not believe that it is all the same from one side of the world to another.
What's more I think this country is fucked. It is way too self-centered and moving far too fast. At least for my taste.
and that is why I will eventually move to either mexico or some other spanish speaking country. I want to live where the food is clean, the people are honest, and there isn't so much at stake...

What keeps you alive?
I just said maybe keeps me alive - and I wasn't lieing. I probably live more for curiosity than anything else... mabye its some desire to see how everything turns out. Always experiementation?

And what keeps you alive? why do you wake up in the morning? How do you fall asleep? How can you not just go grab a gun and get over with it?

I have my curiosity, what do you have?

I will never smoke another cigarrette. Never, ever. but you know I will. I don't believe in never, I don't believe in always, and I sure as fuck don't believe in longevity - philosophical stances and yet I can't say I'll never smoke another ciggarrette (however the fuck you spell it)...
but I do know that I shouldn't...

I thought I broke my ankle yesterday, turns out I just sprained the shit out of it. Not so bad, couldn't work today, could've used the money. Had to pay to see the doctor. Not having insurance is a real gamble; imagine if I had broke my ankle. I'm sick and tired of gambling with every aspect of my life. I'm sick and tired of not being self-sufficient (if that is indeed a word, but you know what I mean: suffecient on your own).

It comes and it goes... comes and it goes. I forget for a while then all the sudden I remember. 26 and so... so not quite there. some good, some bad, always inbetween. Swinging between the two poles. happy, sad. One week on, one week off. I imagine its the same for anyone whose ever been fool enough to believe...

I'll just keep on smoking, even though I know I shouldn't... I just can't say no when maybe keeps me alive.

I tell you true, I will not be touching a cigarette for a very, very long time...

Too stressed out monday, kept smoking. Up all last night, throat barely able to open, head clogged, mind in a daze of nyquil. Today, I still am all fucked up - sick as fuck.

No more cigarrettes. Dumb me.

And another thing: I am sick and tired of feeling like an asshole. Especially in the eyes of my family and friends.
When I play sports, I play to win. Not to tie, not to break even, and sure as fuck not to fight the good fight. I believe in the sanctity of sports. I believe that you always lay it all on the ground. I believe that you praise the other team and foster good will. What I don't believe is that I can't get mad and swear about my situation. I don't believe that I can't get excited and swear about how good, how fucking good, I feel. But I pout and I scream and everyone comes down on me. And I, being so sensitive, look at my self and feel like I crying little baby, and I feel bad... but then I feel bad at everyone else for making me feel bad - I cuss, I scream, I run around throwing shit; that's what I do.
And, of course, that is what makes me an asshole in the first place and confines me to either not behave the way I feel - mask my self some more - or express my self, how I want to, (hell its not even want; it's how I fundamentaly express my self) and feel bad about it later when confronted with societal norms.
If I want to knock chips over or cuss at the ref, or kick the basketball I want you to accept me for who I am... but, you want to know what makes me most sad: when you finally do accept me for the asshole that I am - I become labled as such and my soul is added a new dimension... public oppinion.

It's quite the hole I've dug my self. A new sorrow for a new me, we've all got some battle to fight why can't it be philosophical/spiritual bullshit?

what all that babble below really means is that I am comfortable with most of the aspects of my life. The one area lacking is the relationship area. Also, unfortunately, the one I am most reluctant to 'work' on - however, in doing that reluctant work I have been questioning just what it is that I actually have to offer.

'girls want guys with skills'
but what are my skills? just what am I selling? and how can I make myself a little more appealing so as to maximize what I get, in turn, out of my relationships?
by relationships I mean both physical and familiar - not just sex-orientated.


As a side note, and probably a little more important in the long run, maybe not so much in the meantime: I don't look as my self developing confidence issues in the last year. I see my self maturing/understanding the way I tick and consequently working to become more comfortable with my 'self'. This is not a depressing process, but rather a liberating mechanism... whenever I get down or confused I like to look back at just how far I've come - it really is amazing. Even in the last six months, hell last six weeks. There will always be the tangible to point at - the actions as outcomes of my thought, however I have always had a strong intangible part of my self (maybe that's my aura?). What I see now is more of the inside affecting/effecting the outside, and that is a good thing.

In the world of bad options, you must constantly create plausible (and implausible) alternatives.

Meaning that when you look around, take assestment of, your life and find that you not only is everything a bad idea, but also that even your best laid plans are being placed on rocky ground you must be willing to pack up and move to better land. Really.
I know that we all know this and yet we don't listen to our own best advice and will continue to work where marginal results are the best we could hope to achieve. I say fuck that. I say be willing to blow up everything as many times as you must until you find that solid ground, until you can build the roads that you want to...

The only solid metaphor I've ever come up for our lives was formulated in a two page essay written in mexico. Unfortunately my teacher liked it so much she kept it. I do have some remnants... anyway our parents provide the land that we are raised on - some rocky, some sunny, some pleasant with unfortunate long winters, some this, some that. Eventually we learn to cultivate our own lives/land and what we choose to do, and how hard we choose to try, means everything. (maybe I'll finish the spanish version and post it here?)

My life: decent starting ground, a couple of built houses, a couple torn down, a firm foundation and now I'm adding rooms. I've got a garden with a whole lot more land (music, books, my writing) than I use (as in theres a lot out there but it keeps getting overrun because there is simply too much for me to keep up). I've got a lake of knowledge, filled with little fish of thought. I've got decent weather, but not perfect. And I've got a ton of debt waiting to crash down on it all...
I think what I want is someone to share it with and we're back to the task of choosing the correct ground to build upon... and just what do I really have to offer?

those are today's questions: where to build and how to do it.

there is something to be said for staying up all night...
The birds outside my window, that used to mean morning/work, now seem songbirds meant solely to guide me in my sleepy search for truth. Todays truth: even the unnatural must somehow be accounted for in what we call 'natural'. The same goes for the sameness that is so prevelant in all that is different (and vice versa). Not that I am confusicous or anything, just that I have oxymoronica in my bathroom and its got me wanting to create quotes...

good night,
jdon

"What we call the beginning is often the end And to make and end is to make a beginning. " -T.S. Eliot

Just what have I begun? And why am I not sad the way things have ended? I'm almost 27, almost twenty seven and I still haven't a clue... but I do know this: try as I might, I can't shake the feeling that its all going to be alright. I can't quite quench the thirst for life. I've tried and I've tried, drank and drown. I've failed in every endeavor and yet I somehow made it through: I am an adult.

Nothing is dead inside. I still have faith. I'm even working on wisdom. I feel calm. I'm not angry anymore. I am not even angry.

So this is adulthood? In one year I will be a teacher and off I'll go with my career. One full year, but I think I'm already there. Something about failing and failing and finally succeeding... something about perseverance. Shit, I don't know. I don't even know what I am trying to say, except to say that everything is alright, has been for a while, and will continue to be.

Dare I say I have peace of mind?

The best part of tonight's super piston victory? That would be Darko draining the jumper to hit the over during the final seconds.... way to go buddy. Way make Al and I a combined 126$. Gambling, it's fantastic!

And I'd like to add that if you lose by 30 points and 80 year old lyndsay hunter puts up 17 on you, it should count for two loses.

There is a whole world out there being stifled by our progress.

down below Chris had commented about 'The wall' and I just now responded:
On walls:
so, we build them up only to break them down? we create a concrete representation of an abstract evil, only to tear it down with a force unseen by the abstract? Or do we just create art to imitate our illusions, our inarticulate, unobtainable, self-doubting illusions?
My wall, my bricks, are built out of my own insecurity, my own inability. In that manner it is not an apparatus to keep people out, much like roger waters, but rather to keep my self in...

I bring it up here, again, because I don't want it to get buried; in fact, it may be the most important thing I have learned about my self in writing this blog; I don't keep other people out of my life, I hide my self from them...
I never thought of my self as so inseccure before? Am I? or am I just too deep in a vein of thought? Have I come to understand one angle so powerfully that it seems to be the main artery? I do know that more I grow the more I show...

Downriver doesn't feel like home anymore. You all know how I feel... Last night, Shannon expressed an opposite interest in the nostalgia of coming home. For her, who doesn't live here, there is no judgement, no disappointment, and more importantly only time spent with family - which of course is always good time.

For me, I just see a bunch of people whom I don't relate too. I related it like this: you're in the bar. You start talking to a girl. It's good vibes, you're getting along, and then you mention the last book you read. To which she replies "I don't read" and brings of some TV series. WHY CAN'T ANYONE READ DOWN HERE? Now, you're still on this bar stool and you've still got this girls attention, but already your uninterested.

The down river is an attractive woman to which I just can't relate; there are so many things I like and enjoy down here, plus it is where I've come from, but fundamentaly I have been altered - shit, maybe I never was comfortable here in the first place - Altered and unable to bear it. Have I become some type of intellectual elite? I fear so, but why can't people read? Why can't they take interest in the world around them? And why do I care?

I feel like I don't have a home anymore. Yes, I have a house, but I don't have a home. When I was younger and travelled my home was downriver, it was my center. I was just away. Upon returning I feel awkward, uncomfortable, and just plain disappointed. Not only dissapointed that so many people have given up on intellectual persute, but also dissapointed that I care so much. Why, why, why, why? Why can't I just accept people for who they are and what they have to offer? Why am I so judgemental? I feel like I am the loser here...

I don't mean to talk myself up, too much. And you know how humble I am...
but, I just thought that I should point out that if you happen to be pitching against me and the bases are loaded... you might as well walk me and save yourself three runs. Last night I batted with the bases loaded three times. The first two I didn't see shit and walked. the third I hit a home run and incited a riot. Maybe it was my super enthusiasm. Or maybe it was my slew of fuck yeahs, but the pitcher took offense and I had to remind him that "that's why you walk me when the bases are loaded" bitch!

war me 5-7 with four walks in two games last night.
war trombetta knocking the ball around the park
war smacking around the bitches that beat us two weeks ago


sadly, there is a little bit of 'softball guy' inside of me. you know, the dude with the nickname 'hammer' who shows up with no sleeves and a camaro... thats me, minus the camaro...

Then against my better judgment I went walking out that door.I smiled at one person then I nodded to three more.One man asked me for a dollar, I asked him, "What's it for?"He said, "I have seen them." I said, "O.K., it's yours."

When is the last time you heard those words? Don't know why, but Clutch just feels like summer.
Summer is here my friends. I fucking love it. Basketball courts, bar-b-ques, and long nights waking up sweaty as fuck... God, it feels good to be alive. This summer I want to spend more time 'doing things'. Not drinking in bars, but going places, doing things, seeing things... for example: top of the park, tom petty concert, dmb concert, nyc for a week or so, taste fest,tiger games, all that shit... and some beer after all. I have even been thinking of getting some mushrooms and going up to the cottage...

I spent a whole shift at work the other night, slow night, reading the ann arbor current. I marked a ton of shit to do...
I also want to spend some time camping, somewhere, some how...

If there is one thing that I can say I do right, and even advise to others, it is the fact that I make it a point to see my grandparents (both sides) at least once a month. And call them every couple weeks.
More than the connection to your family's history, a continued conversation with your grandparents will help you to understand the world and provide a phenominal sounding board (grandparents never lie, they are too old to worry about hurting feelings). Plus they exude pure love, no petty jealousy, no outside influences, only pure love driven simply by your presence.

This weeks homework assignment is to call or visit your grandparents.

side note: my brother chris hand writes letters to my grandparents. You know what I heard about all lunch yesterday? Chris and his stinking letter. You made their day Chris. It was awesome...

I remember right after Kwame was elected I thought 'good for detroit'. BOY was I wrong... now he is going to take away the fireworks? What a jack ass.
#1 in the source.
Worst mayor as per Time.
Interesting. I think an article or two could be written about this topic.

Comment of the year:

ej said...
tigers .500
yankees .500

I write in spanish, he comes up with the real meaning of life. Tiger nation bitch!!! I am going to the game on sunday, anyone who wants to go, give me a call. I will even buy the first round at the bar.
love,
jdon

Armegeddon

tengo sueno amigos.
siempre tengo sueno,
como Jesus Cristo

cansado, cansado, cansado

cansado y caminando un otro milla,
siempre caminando
para razones filosoficas
siempre para las razones filosoficas
y nunca para mi otro yo
siempre para la vida
y nunca para mi otro yo
siempre para el ideal
y nunca para mi

siempre para mi familia o mi futuro o cualquier cosa
siempre para las pensamientos mios
y nunca para mi otro yo

about 45 seconds into a run everything starts to hurt, and it doesn't go away for the next 20-30 minutes of running...
I like the metaphor of 'running through life' because I can't think of any single action that makes me feel more like a corpse of organs and frantic electronic waves. Or as euphoric when its all done and body covered in sweat, mind in a daze, you've conquered some random numeric equation...

starry starry night...

some things you can understand perfectly. So much so that you can almost see the future. Touch it, if you will. And yet for all your tampering and all your understanding you can do little more than watch the opportunity pass sadder still because you understand that there could be an alternate ending.

Sometimes its something in your life (usually) but today I'll just focus on the pistons. You simply can't win when one party becomes mechanic. Whether through purpose or simple defense mechanism, Larry Brown doesn't have the time to be emotional and now his players are Xing and Oing themselves to death. The alternate party, here the players, can't help but frustradely carry on the now charade of the other only to the point of getting angry and they themselves out of the game as well.

Sometimes we as a people we lose sight of our lives in the grander spectrum. Maybe we can't talk about it anymore because no one is listening and we've been pigeonholed - see larry brown. Or maybe we've just been trapped into this myth of survival.
I say myth because no one is going to be here for ever. All the more reason to go out there and get to work on what is in front of you. Not what just happened, not what may happen, but what is here right now. Life is way too short to become uninvolved emotionally and that rings true from the basketball court, on through our workplace, and right on into our bed rooms...

you know, I should go on a diet. I feel like such a pudgey bitch sometimes. Plus, if I am going to play life a little bit behind the norm, I will have to live a little bit longer than the norm. nothing worse than having kids at 30 and dieing at 50 due to too many meals of pure beef...
I figure I am around 225 now. I could probably get to 210 by my birthday and a solid 200 by september...
but do I have the dedication?

I can't shake the feeling that everything is going to be alright. I just can't help but think that we're all in the midst of an upswing and whatever comes next is going to be good. I'm not afraid of school anymore, I've been working and its going well, I am comfortable at my mother's house (finally), I am making friends and friendships, my 'important' old friends are still around, and mentally I feel so much more mature than I was just a few months ago.
To bad I am telling and not showing. Brings up another point: I don't think I am a good writer, but I can hang my hat on being a good reader. A friend and I were talking about this just the other day. Same thing with guitar really, maybe its all the arts; I can appreciate them, I can synthesize or make my own meanings, but none of it really translates and touches other people. To do that I have to talk... at least I am a good conversationalist.
I've been trying to listen more, I like that me. I like hearing about other people's lives and I like trying to give some advice. I also like making them feel better - if its only because I am a sounding board.
Jared reads this, Wayne still reads this, I just gave Lydia the address. Nick still reads it, leblanc sometimes, lea and chris of course... plus a couple other friends and cousins. That's about the highest readership I've ever had. Still no comments, but at least it doesn't feel like an empty space anymore.
Star wars has me thinking about the nature of good and evil. When you are a kid it seems to be all about the motives: the gold, the people, the ideal, whatever... I've come to see it more like there is something good, maybe a little intangible and difficult to describe. Then there is evil, which is oh so obvious: it really boils down to nothing more than a lack of faith in your self to make friends. A little bit too much of a stretch? I don't know, maybe that's my evil. But, I can't help thinking that all of us are inclined (naturally, through god, whatever) towards companionship and all the other emotions seek to serve this end or are derived from insecurities in this endeavor.

I don't have these insecurities anymore. You'd have a hard time convincing me that I am not a worthwhile companion, in any form. And it isn't even arrogance for once.

I think we're all getting like that as we grow up... I am so proud of my friends, my brother, tim, dan, jay, etc. I really think we have made it through our youth and can finally begin to work wholeheartedly at creating our own lives and enjoying our own environments...

hopefully that ramble works out/makes some sense
war jared drinking jack daniels at 5am
war Wayne passing out in the car at meijers
out