Let ME Be a Judge?

Possibly the coolest car dirt art EVER... Plus its Halloween time...... BOO

Looking around campus... people watching of course, I find myself making a lot of assumptions about far too many people. Just about everyone, actually. I just recently found myself wondering what other people had to say, what their story was. Has anything happened to this person I am labeling that has put them where they are today? Of course some thing has happened--- we all have a story. 

I got to share my story with an acquaintance today and it inspired me to listen to others more, rather than jump to conclusions. People that only know my surfacy bullshit don't understand why I am the way I am. However, open up that can of worms and it all makes sense. 

We are all driven by the happenings in our life. So before you judge that kid taking monster pulls from the McCormicks handle, maybe you should get to know him. He may just be a kid living to party, but hey may be a kid partying to hide from reality.. 

I know I say all these things, but in all reality, tomorrow I will be bored in class judging away... hopefully this time it will be a little less than normal... Hey the least we can do it try.

Get your ears listening to the best song out there:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UbUEl1I9XFg

Hope

Dreams come by the dozen at night, throughout the day, and keep us on a pursuit to accomplish goals as we go through life. But at what point do we stop dreaming? How many dreams must be shattered before we give up? Getting our hopes up happens multiple times a day. I hope I do well on an exam, I hope I get an interview with some company, hell I even hope I make a good meal for dinner. Whats been happening lately, in my life, is that all of these hopes and dreams continuously get beat down and shoved out the window. I feel like a paperclip, bent back and forth... back and forth... just waiting for the final bend, where I break. Break apart and stop dreaming. Stop hoping for this, or hoping for that. I will just be. Be content with what happens with even more of a "Who gives a fuck" attitude.

At first I thought I was building character, thickening up my skin and building a stronger backbone. I am now feeling as though it is all a waste of my time. I will continue to strive to become a stronger person, a person that can persevere, just like we all should.  But there are no guarantees, just like everything in life.

Listen to someones story. Give them the time of day. Hear them out. It could change their outlook and make them believe.

Time

6 months and all four seasons. Well a couple days shy of all four seasons... Regardless the time or weather, it seems as if it were yesterday I got the call that you took yourself out of all of our lives. I still believe I will drive home some day and see your red truck, hear you call me son, and make sure my life is in order. There is far too much to be typed out, talked about, or even thought about. I try to explain it but no words can even come close to explaining. Much like love leaves one speechless filled with feelings the human vocabulary hasn't yet discovered, I am the polar opposite, confused and lost with no end in site. I cant help but find reason to blame myself and ask the infamous question "what if?" I wrote you a poem, I read it daily hoping you'll hear:

I Wish

I wish I was a fly evading a hand

I wish I was a forrest fire destroying the land

I wish you could understand how I feel

I wish when I opened my eyes this wasn't real

I wish life would be like it once was

When my heart didn't hurt like it always does

I wish we could sit down and have a laugh you see

I wish we could be together just you and me

With the pull of a trigger you made it impossible for all

You couldn't talk to me, not even a call

I want it to be over, the sad and the hate

I still sit and wonder was it fate?

I wish someday you'll pull down the road

Take the stress off my shoulders, its more than a load

To see you again I'd give all that I had

Thanks for being there, just like a dad

To the best stepfather I could have ever asked for, Miss you Rusty

Fantastic

Get this NOW

Rappers come and go. Some people love them, others hate them. I do believe that everyone can nod their head and appreciate a good beat with something lyrically inclined. What happens when you cross an early NWA type beat with new age electronic sounds? You get a heart pounding beat that you cant help but feel throughout your body. Sprinkle in real raps, about real gangster life in LA. What do you get? "westcoastsynthesizerbeachbumgangstermusic" spoken real by Killer Reese One. The beats are done by Troublemaker, and the mixtape is called "King Fantastic" and it should be in your downloads right now. Put on some headphones, dre beats if possible so nothing can interrupt, walk around the city or around campus and listen. Just listen, dont think about anything... soon enough you will realize in some way or another, you connect with King Fantastic. You can relate to his words. He is real and wants you to know it and doesnt want you to regret sticking with him. Gangster never left. 

Enjoy

Change

Change... What makes change so difficult. Sure, some people want to move here or there, some people want a new job, and some people just don't want to deal with the day to day bullshit that occurs in their life.

I, myself, like every other person in the world is dealing with change. I am at a school that I feel is doing nothing for me, many of my friends are gone, my girlfriend no longer lives a block away, and I am ready to start living out my dreams. As much change as I want to happen in my life, I seem to be fighting a lot of it. What are we so scared of?

In 2008 we were supposed to "Believe in change" but at what point are we supposed to believe in it? This may be a political slogan but I try to work it into my day to day life. Props to you Obama, you have done one positive thing for me. Back to change... We all want it, but is it really what we need?

Moving to a beach or a big city seems to be the dreams of half our population. What will we do when we get there? Sure, we have a change of scenery, but is it really what works? To me, far too many people try to escape the small problems of their own lives by making change. Change that will lead you to another problem. I was once told that if you were sitting around a table full of people and everyone laid their problems infront of them, most of the time you will keep the problems you have.

You would think that I am totally against change. However, I believe there is constructive change and dreamers change. Changing a drug abusing lifestyle is a wonderful thing, but wanting to move to a tropical island to change your shitty attitude isnt. I am lost in this blog... it made sense when I started...

I guess I just find it mind boggling how much we fight change on a daily basis, but then how much we hope for it at the end of the day. Listen to your heart the newt time you think about change. Your brain can adapt quickly, but your heart may take a while.

Journey

We all experience hardship throughout our lives, sometimes they happen here and there, other times they decided to bombard us much like the snow in an avalanche... from all angles. 

This year I have been the lucky victim of, what I would like to call, an avalanche in my life. I started this year, and new decade, with a loss of my grandmother. Three weeks late I lost my step father. Most recently, this past sunday my brother and a few of his friends decided to jump off a bridge into a river after a long day of canoeing. Chris, my brothers friend was landed on. He now is laying in the room of a hospital praying, along with friends and family, that he will some day walk again.

When it rains it poors right? Well, in my neck of the woods we are having a hurricane Katrina. The levees are struggling and show signs of breaking. My family and I have far too many questions without any answers. This most frequent asked being, "why us?" Now Chris hasnt had any real effect on my life. Nothing like my grandmother and of course, nothing like my step dad. Chris just happens to be the last few drops of water that initiate the tip with the bucket. I am looking for answers but can come up with nothing. I said to myself this was going to be my decade. My dreams were going to become reality this decade. I cant help but think to myself that these are life tests. Test that make our journey more fulfilling. Some peoples journeys consist of overcoming an abusive relationship, drugs, or mental disabilities. My journey is overcoming death. Am I strong enough to battle through loss and persevere? I believe I am. With the help of others, friends and family, I believe we can overcome anything.

Every person faces some sort of natural disaster in their life. Sometimes its a small rain, other times its a hurricane. However with a support group we are able to recover from these occurrences and rebuild, with a stronger, more knowledgable foundation. 

I would like to thank my support group, mostly my mother and EMily. Thanks for the help so far. I couldnt have made it through all of this without you.

Ill leave you with a Louis Vuitton add "Some Journeys Cant Be Put Into Words"

Also, Hoodie Allen "Words of Wisdom" A personal new favorite.

Enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A12wnVXtdhg

Fighting the Fight

UFC 117 played this past saturday. Being a huge follower of the mma sport, I tuned in, as usual. The card was amazing. Each and every fight was an all out war between two grown men refusing to lose. Men getting pounded on round after round only to persevere and become victorious. "Death bf Defeat" says the Head Rush t-shirt. Sporting a skull with some sort of viking helmet on. Oh and not to mention the chains coming out of this badass skulls face. Looking through the crowed in between fights this is all you will see.

Tanned big boobed "women" wearing next to nothing are a dime a dozen at these events. I believe they stand, looking into their closets, asking themselves what can make them look the sleeziest. Huge heels, shirts transformed to dresses, and lets not forget your gaudy, over the top, costume jewelry. This is what makes the essential UFC going female. Hoping they will find someone to pay for their evening.

Gelled hair, dark MEK jeans, and a badass Affliction shirt. This gives off the vibe that you are not to be fucked with. You are a man, and you obviously know how to fight. Because you were affliction... right? Tanned up douchebags going broke for the night to impress the piece of trash, Oops, I meant lady, sitting beside him.

Having participated in the sport of MMA and knowing a few UFC fighters personally, this stereotypical attire gives them a bad rep in my eyes. FireFighters that have children, Purdue Graduates, High School wrestling coaches. These everyday people are being represented by demonic creatures ripping through their clothes, skulls and skeletons, chains and tribals, blended all together to make you look like a badass. Yeah... right. I guess I am wondering why 95% of fight wear makes me look atheist. Fighting is what we have done since the begining of time, to show ownership and possesion. Why is it just recently labeled with black, dark grey, and silver lining?  Hopefully it is just a phase.

It would be nice to turn on a pay per view, go to a bar, or walk through the mall without seeing some lost soul wearing clothing that "makes him look tough." Someone out there, anyone, please break the mold.

Dont believe me? Google "UFC fan" have fun. Oh, dont forget to make a fist like a boxer in your next picture. 

Get Tanked

I never thought I would blog. Sharing my day to day thoughts with others always seemed odd. Someone reading what I had to say... voluntarily? Hard to believe. I finally opened my eyes and decided to share. So blog I shall.

Tank tops.. They only seem to be popular in southern California, or place where there is a beach within walking distance. I may live in the mid-west, however a lady in LA holds my heart. I started wearing tank tops after seeing guys sport them all over the place on my visits. Walking the streets of indianapolis this past friday night I opted to trade in the polo,  dark jeans, and loafers for a tank top, jean shorts, and flip flops. Minutes after arriving downtown my friend and I walked by a line to enter the bar. What do I hear? "Cute shirt." "Yeah fag, cool shirt." I smile and nod at the four insecure, affliction wearing tool bags that think every girl wants them in the bar.

How to respond? Do you get angry for being called out in-front of 100 people waiting to get into a bar? Perhaps you feel bad for yet another person falling into the stereotype, the fashion norm of whatever region you call home. This is the approach I went with. What happened to being an individual? What happened to individual creativity. At what point in our lives did we pick up a magazine, see an ad and say to ourselves, "I want to be that."? Why aren't we flipping the pages of multiple magazines and making our own ads that we want to be? Why are there fashion dos in California that are fashion donts in Indiana? Whats with the east coast style and the west coast style? Why cant it just be style? Im pursuing the answers to these questions while writing this. I am also trying to make these questions non-existent with my very own clothing line.

This blog will be a reflection of fashion, music, and life in general. I have an opinion and love to use it, even when it isn't loved. Starting my senior year of college I have a lot to think about; I have to finish school on time, make the long distance with my girlfriend work, and start to pursue my real dreams.

Im not scared, and you shouldn't be either