Missing Cat/ Missing Wife

I always think that people have motives.
Maybe it's because I don't know if I even have motives... for anything.
If I figure out there motives, maybe I can learn how to make my own?
I'm just getting older.
I'm thinking I'm getting a lot older than I actually am.

Umm.
*Sigh*

I don't have new thoughts. Well, I can't remember if I did have some recently.
Nowland, one of our cats, has been missing for a week.
We looked at the animal shelter, even.
My wife was gone for a week, as well.
She came back, though.
I thought I would have this great time on my own.
You know: "Guys night out!... Video games!... Beer!..."
Not really.
She's more a part of me than I am, at the moment.

shalom.

Again?

I'm still lost, still frustrated, still looking.  I googled "brainstorming techniques". A website suggested that I think of what my hero, mentor, etc. would do in my situation.

That's been my problem this whole time.
Ever since the debt and sickness, I've asked what Jesus would do.
And, honestly and sadly, I don't see Jesus ever being in my situation.

I know that's a whole can of worms.

I know deep down that I HAVE to be wrong. I have to feel hope for this life, this world, this man.
I'm so blinded to my own.

I notice I ask people to call me out if they care for me; tell me if I'm doing anything wrong.
I think I'm just scared to decide for myself.
I get on this computer every week, looking for someone to make a decision for me.
I leave empty handed.

I don't want this.
I want more.

Shalom.

p.s. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results.

Lost: Season 1,029.5 What does it mean?

An hour or so of searching for seminaries, graduate programs, and jobs. Clicking on this. Clicking on that. Typing in things like, "Top Ten..." and, "What is the best...".
I stopped and the thought came:  "I am literally lost."

I thought I have been lost for the past several years. Now I realize, I've just been scared or apathetic*.

(*News Flash to you, right? I'm almost positive if you searched main words from the past seven years of this blog, apathetic, scared, lost would be the three most common words.)

If a person were to hike in the woods and suddenly realize he had no idea where he was, would he be lost?
Is he lost if he simply realizes he is not sure where he is?
Is he lost if he commits to keep searching without finding?

One forgets where he is, yet can still find the way he is going. 
One travels the, "wrong way," yet can find how to get back to the way he is going.

Now if one were to look around, notice that he knew not of the surroundings around him, then decided to take a seat on the closest boulder, log or hill, would that be considered lost?

This is really not some zen-way of saying, "it's the journey, not the destination..."
What I am trying to state is that staying put, or waiting for life to decide for itself, is not a form of being lost.
That may be good. That may be bad. That is not lost.

Until fifteen minutes ago, my depression, boredom, and lack of value were thought to be affects of being lost.

I am not lost.

I am Ryan.
I work a job to pay off my student loans. I pay my student loans because I realize it is my responsibility to pay for my over-indulgence in education. I struggle to find a profession more practical to my passions. I married my best friend because I want to spend my life with her. I own three cats because I am 27 year old, male, spinster (Who crochets....). I drive a huge car because it seemed reliable. I recycle because my wife tells me to. I don't read the Bible because, honestly, I've just been lazy and, partially, because I do not think reading the Bible determines your status in life. I do not attend a church service because I work on weekends.  I watch one movie a day, on average, because they fascinate me; even the bad ones. I believe in a man who was perfect, was love, was God, and is alive somehow. I drink beer and whiskey because I enjoy the taste. I don't make art any more because I struggle to see the impact it will make. I write songs with my guitar because they seem like small prayers that no one shall hear. I live in Indianapolis because my wife is a talented actor. I don't call my long-time friends and family enough because I think to much about my problems. I think about how my life sucks because I want people to feel sorry for me. I want people to feel sorry for me so that they will feel compelled to solve my life for me. 

Ten seconds ago, I wanted this life. 
Seven seconds ago, I thought, "I hope I'm not having some manic fit..."
Five seconds ago, I laughed.
Three seconds ago, I felt satisfied with where this free-writing led me.

And Now,

SHaloM.

Monks had a few things right:

Don't push your mission on someone else.

I React Without Thinking

Aside: sorry i was getting slammed with spam comments, so now you have to have a google account to comment. hopefully it will get better.





I think- nay- I react most of the time to what people say to me.
I seem to wait for loved ones to hurt me, then I hurt them back or make them feel bad for saying something so desolate and mean to me.
Yet, when I say mean things to other people (which I do a lot), I say, "Sorry, I'm kind of blunt," or, "kind of mean," or, "just being honest," or, "just kidding."
I've lost the emotional invovlement in a conversation.
I have turned talking into a battle where I am surrounded by the walls of my castle waiting to defend every attack.
I have become so self-involved that I cannot imagine someone with hurt feelings.
I only imagine myself with hurt feelings.
Disconnection. Isolation.
I have only supported my bad habits out of fear, out of disatisfaction with my life, or because I just didn't care. All extremely bad excuses.

Don't worry. I've got some extremely intelligent and profound excuses, as well.
I can tell you why I haven't traveled...Why I haven't gone to church... Why I haven't clean my living room. Why I haven't been healthy... Why I haven't acted unselfish and loving to the ones close to my heart...

None of these excuse are because I don't want to. I want to do all of these and a lot more things.
I only procrastinate or worry of the wrong in life. I only feel sorry for myself.

One thing my mother taught me, when I was young, about myself was that I always acted like a martyr. Like I was always being punished, made fun of, insulted, pursecuted, etc.
Note: It's sounds harsh. But, it has helped me more and more everyday of my life to hear that.
Humbleness is not earned. It is taught.

Will I ever give up excuses?

I would like to say "yes."

But I always think that.

"With every passing moment, there is a chance to turn it all around."

I can be who I want.

You can be who you want.

Nobody is out to get us.

People are broken and they will hurt us.

It plausible that someone f---s up. Not because they are a bad person, but because the worst comes out a lot easier than the best.

I have hope.

For me. For you. For the ignorant rascist with a good work ethic, I come in contact with 3 days a week. For the lazy back stabber, that works 4 jobs to feed her family. For the alcoholic who would give the shirt off of his back for you . For the homeless guy searching for food in the garbage when he could just ask for money with more ease. For the verbally abusive apologizer. For the materialistic saint.

My hope is not logical.
I don't believe hope has to be.
That's why I hope.



shalom shalom.

Pizza Dreams

I never have considered myself a very creative person.
I am good at drawing, okay at painting, and decent at building things,
but not creative.
I have very creative dreams.
I need to start writing them down again.

And eating more pizza before I fall asleep.

Maybe that will kick start something.


I need to start picking up the guitar again and writing simple songs.
I try drawing, but I always start drawing things I'm looking at.
It's funny because if someone asked me to draw something specific, I could do it.
When it's an empty piece of paper and an empty mind, it is another feat.
I never went to art school, because I was never passionate about it.
Doing it all the time is hard work
I like learning everything, just enough where I'm good at it.
I don't know if that's because I want to be prepared to tell someone at any situation, "I know how to do that," or if it's because I get addicted to things rather easily.
The second I am interested in some certain hobby, that's all I talk about, that's all I do, and that's all I think about.


shalom.

p.s. I randomly decided to run 2 miles yesterday.
Timed myself: 15 minutes.
I impressed myself.

Sometimes I Write a Blog.

Sometimes I forget how funny I am.
ha ha.
not really.
Sometimes other people forget how funny I am.
And how humble I am.

Zach and Ali got married Saturday.
I had to give a best-man speech.
I can't think about it ahead of time. I can't write anything down. I get so nervous, nauseous, and self-destructive. Last time I wrote down a speech was in 2003 (and, the whole commute there, I debated crashing my car so that I would have an excuse not to get up in front of everyone. Ridiculous).
Now I just think of 2 or 3 thoughts and go with it.
I even caught myself thinking about what I would say about Zach and Ali and started hyper-ventilating. So, I stopped and waited for the microphone.
Everyone laughed the second I picked it up.

Sometimes I hate myself.
Way too much.
Then I hate myself for hating myself.

Sometimes I don't do anything.
Wait, I mean, sometimes I do something.
I usually do nothing.
I realize that I am capable of do anything I want.
I realize that I don't know what I want.
I want someone to make it easy and choose for me.
No matter what it was, I would be great.
But I don't choose for myself.
I just wait.
I let my surroundings, my friends, my job build who I am.

Sometimes , most times, I over think things.

Sometimes...
Shalom.

twitsquarebook.com

Now Listening to: Three Seed by Silversun Pickups "There's the line that is leading clearly feeding all The things I don't believe in but i'll step in once Again Cut in line to get closer to the source of all the Things I'll never belong to Step it up and sign right in again" Writing more than a funny sentence is irrelevant these days. That is sad. The day of the blog is long gone. "Fooled by the notion That the sums don't add up at all" My deep thoughts of loneliness trail by the streams of dried up creek bed. Wondering if any passing by travelers would pick up these unadorned peices of dirt and stone. Maybe one day to be adhered to one's ears as jewlery or a countless time piece dangling gently from the wrist of some wise old man with a story of coincedental found life and love from finding such a precious stone as this. We are lonely and depressed. Understanding how bad we have it and how much worse it could be. Living life lifeless and upset. A generation of gentiles generating general guidelines for one another, yet none for themselves. Whispering whims on the white lines. Branding black, block letters to break the blank space. Cracking the chest open of store-up memories and charged feelings. Carefully contructing sentences after days of yearning for someone to listen. Letting the music in our ears, hearts, and out of our fingers. Not letting each thought, which has immediately reached our mind, merely be texted and sent to whomever. Good intentions grow into media mania. I don't like where the future is going. Shalom. ps. hit me up on twitter ;)

Bet you didn't know.

bet you didn't win.

Bet you didn't think that your life would begin.

with so many mistakes.

with so many regrets.

Bet you didn't want.

this.

shalom.

loose ends

with everyday that passes, my days become blurred

wishing for youth in a bottle and dreaming absurd.

to every person i've ever loved before

to the ones with tattoo'd hearts

decisions are harder, more

than letting loose ends fall apart.

shalom.