Down Here on Earth

                So I had this whole column already written and yet here I am writing this now which means the other one will most likely never be seen. Oh well, these things happen. So why am I here writing a new column you ask? Well I’m hoping at some point during this, the answer will eventually become clear.

                I wrote this whole bit about this generation being lame and how we need to be the opposite of lame. I suppose I then read it enough times to decide that I’d rather participate in the act of not being lame rather than continue it just to complain. I want to be part of the solution.

                So here we are just you and I again. I hope all has been well or at least bearable and I can rather safely assume it has been if you’re reading this now. Now give me a moment as I try and come up with the next question to ask you. I can feel myself become more lost as I stand on the eve of my last year of school and I suppose that should only be expected. What else have I ever really known besides going to class and getting grades? I’ve lived a privileged life and if you don’t believe me, I’m pretty sure there’s an office around here that would love to tell you all about it themselves.

                I think we’ll talk about ambition and maybe a bit about justice. We’re not going to talk about love because I don’t know if that ever really ends well and I don’t know all that much about it. I’m sure we’ll touch on morality and a tad bit of existentialism. So we’ll start with this morning when pulling myself out of bed seemed to be the most burdensome task I’ve ever had to complete and that’s rather disheartening. Why would I ever want to leave the world of dreams to go around and perform all of these tasks that are required of me regardless of how necessary I personally deem them?

                I left my bed because I had to, as I did the day before and the day before that. The injustice lies in the idea that has been accepted as fact that we will all have to do this until that day we die. We have to do things that we don’t really want to in the hopes that we can earn money so we can buy things that we don’t really need. It’s a vicious cycle that has been happening for generations and I suppose that’s why it’s all been accepted as such a concrete method of life. The beauty in this is that nothing is concrete. We are not as victimized as we like to think and although the forces of the world seem to make us small and powerless, the world itself is quite small compared to the galaxy or the universe or anything that lies between.

                I believe that this is where the issue truly lives. Our perception of things is off, not that we are bigger and more important than we think but rather the opposite. Now bear with me as I try to explain how this would work. We feel that the motions of this planet keep us in place. Never being able to truly break free from the set standards and rituals that human beings have convinced themselves are so important. If you know nothing else about the universe, you should know this. It’s big. It is actually beyond big and I’m going to be so bold as to say it is exponentially larger than anything any of us has ever known. We in comparison are really quite small and not very significant.

                But Brian, how is that supposed to help?

                Well I’ll tell you, sport. Since we are very small and don’t mean that much, we are then free to enjoy our lives and experience the full wonder that this thing we call existence has. Most of the issues in our lives are trivial and even the ones that may seem profoundly important as they happen, will all eventually fade into the dusty attics of our minds. Let me give you an example. I dated a young woman my freshman year. Long story short, things didn’t pan out so well and I got dumped. I was crushed and sad and spent all my days listening to melodramatic acoustic songs that I felt represented my life so perfectly. That was almost three years ago and even though I still see her around, all I can do is laugh and blow her kisses when she gives me dirty looks.

What I suppose I’m trying to say is that no matter what issue may be consuming your thoughts now, it will not be permanent. There are so many things in this life that deserve  our attention including good music, sunsets, daydreams, good jokes, St. Patrick’s day, anything that Neil deGrasse Tyson says, anything that Louis C.K. says, having shoes on your feet, being able to eat every day, being able to read and the very simplistically complicated phenomenon that is being alive. Everything else should be regarded as background noise. 


Sunday Morning Thoughts 3.18.12-3.25.12: Part II

So walks a sort of man down a sort of path that was made for him by him because there seems to be no other way to get around this whole issue that likes to hide its face from being seen. The annoyance has reached a level where I can only seem to be come passive about life and feeling like the color grey must because everyone seems to pin this whole drowsy kind of feeling on it. It’s not fair in the slightest but has that ever stopped anything from happening. How can you tell someone that though? How can you tell some that it’s worth trying in this life when there is always such a great chance of something not working or nothing working at all? It’s terrible and it’s why I like my coffee bitter.

It’s difficult but it doesn’t make it any less necessary to get done. It’s probably makes it more necessary. I couldn’t ask for help and I guess that’s only really pride which may also be necessary but for less valid reasons. This is something thing that has to be done by the individual which only has the benefit of producing less casualties. I had more thoughts on what to write earlier but they must have walked off and gotten lost on me.

I could sit here and sing you sad songs all day but where would that get me? It would get me to be lucky enough to spend the rest of eternity at this self created purgatory and doesn’t that sound like fun, does it? I’m starting to believe it is boredom. I’ve grown too weary from being too comfortable for much longer than I should and I believe that my mind and soul are telling me that I need to get out and away very soon or there may be an implosion of my very being which would be less than spectacular. The time grows near for me to shed this phase of my life and go on to the next which only naturally scares the crap out of me but in that sense so has every other phase in life. I once thought going to junior high school was going to be this terrifying thing. High school too. There is a chance that this may be vastly different, but part of me imagines it won’t be. I’ve made it this far already so what’s a few more decades?

I’m sick of being in the present trying to imagine what the future holds. I want to be in the future and have to be filled in on what’s going on now. The world out there is brewing to some sort of catalyst. We stand on a ledge and need to immediately learn how to fly because the fall from here would most likely kill us. I don’t mean to sound so dreary but there’s no reason to remain ignorant to the crime that runs rampant through our world today. And I don’t mean purse snatching crime, I mean the big stuff like wars and freedom and revolutions.

I’m tired of watching us wallow in our inadequacies. I’m sick of seeing grown men hit on girls by being annoying and making fun of them like they were pulling hair on the bus. I’m sick of people being ignorant and enjoying having no idea of anything that actually goes on around them. I’m going to change this. This school. This life. This world and if I have the time, this universe. Existence is our toy, children. Play on.

Sunday Morning Thoughts 3.19.12-3.25.12: Part I

Trains pull away as I stare off into nothing surrounded by celebrating people and all of that noise. You can hear it without a doubt but I don’t know if I can listen. I’m not tired. That’s not the word because I’ve slept as much as I need to. I can’t be sure what this is that I feel. This computer is losing battery and I don’t feel like finder the charger. Besides, I need to get ready to do nothing soon. All I see is kilts, but I hear no music.

Hark and hear the last call for rounds for the evening and you’ve only found this seemingly sightless vision of whatever it is that you were thinking earlier might have been the answer. It wasn’t of course and shame on you for expecting it to be. I hope you’re right. I hope you know what you’re doing, man. Because I can’t really say if I’m comfortable with this.

And look at this guy!!! A whole five days later and I am but a measly two paragraphs in with the even slightest chance that 200 words will happen at some point near this moment that is occurring right now. Copy that into your word processor and enjoy.

But the point stays the same that I keep digging and digging to find something, anything or everything that could possibly be found if there even is such a thing. It’s a crime to be claiming something so bold as being part of some generation lost in its predecessors’ stupidly intended world. The images are all there, all the symbols line up and make the pattern that is supposed to be seen and look at me step in line but only when I should, of course. My only hope is to have one hope because there are so many already scattered along the side walk all burnt up and stepped on. A focal point would possibly do something, although it’s been tried and I assume failed but who even knows at this point. I stand looking down at the things I’ve tossed off the ledge expecting it to just fall back into my hands before I see it hit the ground. Splat.

If there was ever a point that it was understood why this was all started in the first place, it isn’t now. Now there is wonder as to the point and purpose because I don’t care if I impress a girl with this. I want to write because there is something that I think should be said because it needs to be said because someone has to hear it, if not everyone. It just seems so bothersome to have to wait around for death pretending to do stuff so I can buy enough time to waste. And I suppose ideally I should buy some time for my kids to waste, as long as they don’t see it until they’ve spent it.

Why is it that I sit here slowly sobering as I tug on my hair and rub my eyes? Why can I not just be content with all the saturated brainwash that comes with the social phenomenon we call civilization?  Why do I believe that my life is only the culmination of things that have already passed and nothing that breathes or grows?

To these questions there’s a very good chance that answers don’t exist or they at least can’t be found after a shower and a five minute meditation. As for now, I will rush off again and leave you here to yourself. These poor words will have to wait several more hours for my attention, but you will see it immediately start with the next sentence.

And just like that, the hours turn to days and yet I just march in place. It is now the Sunday after and I’m a week behind again, just to add to the month and years. There remains all the things that I’ve had to do but I still ask that you look at me and see something that isn’t what you see everywhere else. Its bold and stupid but so be it. There doesn’t seem to be a thing can do about it.

And just like that it slips back to “well my name’s Brian and there are things that I don’t like and I’m not motivated and I’m not happy and blah blah blah, blah blah blah blah.” I’m sick of it. I’m sick of hearing it and yet there is nothing that I do about it. I sleep my problems away, which is so incredibly stupid because they’ll just follow you into dreams where they have the unlimited power of my psyche to shape and create any event in any manner to make me feel whatever way I apparently need to feel. It’s terrible.

I will be back to this by later tonight, I promise. There is too much work that needs to be done to not return.

To All the Girls I’ve Ever Had a Crush On

So my solitude has gotten me peace but no mind to guide where to go to next. Am I a red-blooded man who stares fate and death and all those terrifying things in the face or am I still a boy with a few wispy hairs on my face? I’m beginning to run out of pondering time because in a few days I will be waltzing down the street of the greatest city in the world celebrating the favorite part of my heritage, so I won’t really have time for pondering then.

It’s tough to tell. People love me when I’m pretending to be someone else. They’d rather hear me sing than say anything, unless of course there’s a microphone and I’m supposed to be funny. The words that I write drunk and rambling are always better than those that are planned in prose and verse and prettiness. I guess what I’m getting at, is that I have no idea who I am or who I’m supposed to be.

Well, it’s still early in the day. I’ll try to figure this out as I stumble along.

I used to be very timid. I was afraid to talk to members of the opposite sex for really most of my life. It started to slow down in my mid-teens but even then I couldn’t get past being a friend. My first kiss wasn’t even my idea. Don’t get me wrong, I was hoping it would happen, I just didn’t think it would. It was nice and I’ve been looking to replace that moment ever since and I’ve only come close a few times. I should realize that will never be again and that I blew it with that girl. Great thing about Facebook is you get to see how dumb you are because of how gorgeous your first girlfriend has become. I thought she was gorgeous when I was 15 but I’m 20 now and she seems even more magnificent. If there’s any chance you’re reading this, and you know who you are, I would love to take you out to dinner sometime.

Well now that I’ve just made this awkward for everyone else reading this, let’s carry on. I don’t know what I’m trying to get at here. Well I guess its two things. One, I’m re-teaching myself how to type because I never really learned and am quite terrible at it. The other thing has to do with how little I’ve written this month and how ridiculous that is. Why you ask? Well it’s spring and ever since that fateful day in April so many years ago, I’ve connected this idea to this time of year. I suppose it’s only natural to associate spring with the idea of new beginnings or some shit like that, but this corny individual thinks he’s special. Don’t tell him he’s not, it would crush the poor thing.

It is now much later in the day than when this was started and I’ve sort of abandoned trying to correct my typing for the time being, so if we could let’s just fall into this and figure out what it is that keeps me whining so much. I don’t know if this is normal or healthy or even possible but I want to be alone and at the same time fear that same loneliness so fucking much that it makes me want to rip my hair from my skull. My guess is on unhealthy. Anyway if you know me, I ask for time and patience and understand which are all things that I seem to never be able to give other people. What’s the word for that? Oh yeah, selfish. So selfish Brian is walking down the street and he looks at the girls as they pass and how could he not? You need self control for that kind of thing, which I have none of. He’s walking down the street and slowly he looks up to the sky and sees sunlight sneaking pass clouds and thinks to himself, ‘well isn’t that nice’.

‘Yes that’s very nice but what does that have to do with anything?’

‘It’s got everything to with anything, are you mad?’

‘Possibly, but I still don’t see how that works’

‘Come on, you’re not supposed to see it. I thought you knew that.’

‘Guess not.’


Bummer indeed. I guess that makes this a waste. Such a shame. I assume that this will be forgotten as most things are. I will. You will. We all will. It’s inevitable and we all just have to deal with that.

Actually, I don’t know if I can forget everything which is the real issue here.

Sunday Morning Thoughts 2.26.12-3.11.12: Special Edition – Three Weeks in a Day in the Life

This was on Friday, I think.

And here I sit in a theater listening to people pretend to be other people as everyone does every single day. We spend our time going through these actions and ordeals with our manners and our poses and yet every day for me at least, I wake with the desire to fall back to sleep. I couldn’t say if it’s my bed or the booze but I still ache for some feeling that I’ve hardly ever known. Would it be out of line if I said that I couldn’t do this? Would I be mad for tossing this away? I suppose it would but madness may be the only comfort that I still have. I don’t know is a phrase that I’m quite sick of using but my addiction has left me with nothing more to say.

I will preach when asked and give this rousing advice but it will fall away.

This was written today.

12:33PM `

I’ve decided that this will be an all day, or at least most of the day production. I will start now and continue at various points during my day. Just so you know, I just ran a lot. I don’t know how this is going to make me feel. Also, it’s March. I haven’t written a damn thing in all of these days of March. I may implode. Just a warning. Enjoy.


Clean and fed. Still not quite ready to dive in yet, which would essentially make this a waste. So I’ll try not to waste and say a few things, or better yet, look at this. I took some pictures today. Enjoy.


I’m starting to wonder where this all started. This search for this feeling that I believe I have only felt a few times in my life and when I did it was gone before I had hardly had a taste. It seems to be forever beyond my grasp and I can’t tell if that’s my doing or the work of the universe or something like that. I stand now weeks behind in all the things that I’m expected to do and I’m lying to you because I’m actually sitting.

I’m glad to retreat back into the woods to find where is at all anything that exists to quench this thing that has occupied my mind. I still need to dig further though and spend more time both today and afterward to fill such an empty and aching soul. I need to ask some questions that I’ve been to afraid to even think of. I shall get to the bottom of this. At least I hope I shall.


Someone told me, indirectly of course, that life is a collection of moments that are all strung together. Most of them are fairly crappy but there are a few that are good and you should think about those. Now here comes the conflict. What if that moment is holding me forever there, in that one spot? What if I miss everything that is passing by and only look to see it shrinking away in the distance?

Well, I don’t know what will happen. I try and fight to understand what or why but all I can arrive at is that those memories want to stay alive. Or is it me just keeping them alive? I feel like I’ve said this before and it’s mostly likely because I have. I’ve probably said this many times and in many ways and yet turning this thought into something that could be seen has made none of it go away.

I think that I’ve grown bored with my writing and what it’s been about. It all seems the same to me and although there is more hair on my face than two years ago, I cannot tell if the feeling is real or imagined. Feeling is a stupid word anyway. It’s a stupid concept all together, or at least I think it is at this moment which is supposed to be different from every other one. I, of course, could not tell you whether it is or not. I don’t seem to be able to tell you much of anything. I’d apologize but I don’t imagine you’d like to hear that anymore. Give me some more time and I’ll see if I can’t come up with anything better.


I can’t tell if that nap helped me at all. I woke up a few times and sort of just wanted to call it quits for the day and yet here I am. Why? WHY??

I’m not going to Bay Ridge for St. Patrick’s Day and that’s kind of lame. There’s a parade the next day but to be honest, there wasn’t any hope in all that anyway. Theoretically this freedom should be uplifting but it’s not. If you don’t get it, I don’t care. These are just stupid thoughts that no one but me cares about anymore. All other parties have let this die and have moved on but not ol’ B-ri. He’s hanging on for dear life to something that hasn’t been there since I don’t know when. I’m not going to read anything I wrote then because it’s probably tainted with delusion disguised as happiness. Or was it real happiness? I can hardly tell the difference anymore.


I remember my first kiss and how stupid I was for letting that girl get away. My second girlfriend was very nice too. My third was a bitch but I thought I loved her. Since then my relations with females have been empty for the most part. I’ve been much more successful with girls but that doesn’t make me feel better. I was better of being the quite kid. I was a better person when I was a virgin.

I wonder about how I did on that test. If I can get the job, I can chase my dreams which is strange because I thought this job would lead to just the opposite. I’m afraid of my life. I’m so afraid of failure that I can move forward and yet here I am so far and sitting so highly on the success that I’ve almost effortlessly attained. I could have worked harder and gotten more but then I would have lost my daydream attitude. I want to lose my mind more. I want to fall farther and grab every experience that I can. I want to be happy but not before I do everything else. I haven’t done enough yet. I don’t know my answer yet but deep down I do. I just can’t see it or I won’t see it. Something like that.


This will be the last little bit that I write for this. I haven’t come up with anything of value to say all day. I will hopefully come up with something better tomorrow. My mom asked me what I want to do with my life as far as internships and stuff go. My dad came up with the best answer. He said save the world. I think I’ll try and do that. It may cost me my soul and my life but so be it. I may never have a family or love and that’s fine. I just hope by the time I die, I’ll have self respect.

I also hope that I will be able to come up with things to say that are worth hearing. I hope that I do things that are worth remembering. I hope that you won’t forget me but I guess I’ll never know that, will I?