Sunday, August 30, 2009

"Everything changes..."

It's incredible just how much you can tell about a person by the way they start their day. By that, I mean literally the way a person gets out of bed can reveal so much about their personality, state of mind, and will to live.
You've got your two polar ends. One person jumps out of bed to an alarm of dance music and is almost immediately singing as he/she picks out the days attire. The opposite of that is the person who, well, just doesn't get up. That person is obviously depressed, maybe suicidal, and probably been through some traumatic life experiences.
Then there's the rest of the people. Everyone gets up in different ways. Some hit the "snooze button on their alarm clocks, some sleep through their alarms, and some wake up slowly and then drag their feet to a refreshing cup of Folgers coffee.
How do you get up in the morning? Do you dress with the lights on, or prepare for your day in darkness. Do you smile when you look in the mirror, or do you dread the day ahead. Do you sit at the side of your bed for a moment, contemplating falling backward back into it, or do you hustle through your mornings routine because you're excited to do whatever you're waking to do.

It's funny too, noticing the change in the way you start your day now compared to how you used to start your day. Maybe you hate your job. Maybe your routine is old and boring. Maybe you've lost the will to live, or lost the electric shock of passion that jolted you awake at sun-up.

I see this change in myself now. I was excited to wake up months ago, but now I can't exactly say the same. This is like a cycle for me; I try something new. I'm happy. I get used to it. I'm unhappy. I strive for change. I make change. Everything starts over.

Maybe this is a good thing. Like I've conquered one mountain and
something inside me, maybe my heart, is telling me "Rob it's time to move on."
Maybe I have some sort of a medical dysfunction. Maybe I'm depressed or
bi-polar. Maybe I'm just too damn cynical.

To best explain what's missing from my life, I'll make a few comparisons.
  • The "high" that drugs or alcohol can do to a person. When you're high, anything and everything else doesn't matter, you're captured in that moment and that time, and you forget certain things that keep you up at night while feeling alive and refreshed.
  • The excitement of an 8 year old on his birthday. There are tons of presents in front of him, but he still can't open them until he blows out his birthday candles. His future sits before him wrapped in all different colors; shiny and dull paper, balloons and clowns on another. Each gift is a new high; one gift may change his life without him ever knowing.
  • The feeling of love. Heart pounding all the time because you can't get that person off your mind. To me, love is a thousand different things. Care, compassion, commitment, passion, and risk to name a few. If one element is weak, that love WILL falter. You can love lots of things besides another person. You can love what you do, how the sky looks; clear and calm after a rainstorm, or the smell of fresh-cut grass which probably means nothing to most people but reminds you of the time when you were young when your father would let you ride on his lap as he mowed the lawn.

I just don't feel alive anymore. I feel like the energy in my life has been sucked away. I can't get excited for things I should be, and I don't love the things I used to. I'm not consciously giving up, but for some reason, I feel myself letting go.

I'm fighting though; trying to plan my next few steps and stay afloat once again. I've got tons of unopened presents in front of me and I'm hoping that just maybe, the next one I open may be the one that changes my life.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

"The runway sings an honest song; it's here I know I don't belong..."

Sometimes I feel trapped. I feel like that bride that you see on made-for-TV-movies who, the night before her wedding, runs off with another guy and bails on all the people waiting to see her get married. Isn't that what "Run Away Bride" is about? I've never seen it, but it sounds like it would be.
All of a sudden I feel married; I've got this house and this job, and this consistency in my life that makes me nervous and nauseous, and all other negative N words (that aren't racial or sexual). Seriously though, thinking that I'm going to be stuck in the same job and in the same place for the next for years, or any prolonged period of time freaks me out. I want to run away.
To be honest, I'm not sure if it all feels right. I'm not sure if it all feels wrong either, I just feel like I'm here to do something more, and haven't figured out what that something more is.
The next five months are looking pretty grim for me. I'm doing a ton of things that should make me happy; taking a class in dietetics, firefighting school, personal training and teaching aerobics, and leading one entire team in a "largest looser" weight-loss competition. For some reason, happy is sometimes the only emotion I don't feel.
I don't think I'm depressed, just kind of in search for something else;
something bigger and something that can give my life clarity and meaning. The
bottom line is this; if you know me and I don't seem myself but can give you no
explanation as to why, it's because deep down inside me, something is missing.

To me, life is like one of those "Magic Eye" books. You know, the books where the right page lists items and on the left side you find them, or something like that. If you know the books that I'm taking about, life to me is exactly like that. There's these items listed there, and you find the first few with no problem, then all of a sudden it asks you to find something obscure, like a shoelace or a pine tree in a forest of oaks. You slam the book shut because you've been looking for a long time, but no matter what you do, something always lures you back to that book. Maybe after a while you find what you're looking for, but maybe you never do. Maybe you never will.
I can be in the gym or driving home at midnight from a late shift of work, and all of a sudden that urge hits me. That urge to figure things out and to find that something that's missing. I know it's there just like I know that somewhere in that book hides a shoelace and a pine tree, but sometimes I wonder if I'll find it, if it'll someday hit me right in the face. Will I always be looking, aimlessly and in the dark, or will I eventually become agitated, tired, and numb, and decide to slam the book shut, forever giving up my search for something that like it or not, eats away at me everyday and every night.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

My Ride Home

I've spent a lot of time thinking. I spent a lot of time thinking tonight.

I guess not being a full-time college student anymore- finally having the chance to do the things I've always wanted to do, kind of gives me the opportunity to figure things out. I do this a lot, try to figure things out. I think too much.

I've always had everything I wanted. I've always been given everything I want, everything I need, and everything I don't. Not everybody drives a brand new truck, has a house at 22, can be successful at his job, prosperous and happy, and not everyone has healthy lungs, working arms and legs, and a strong heart. Sometimes I'm ungrateful.

I think about that a lot. What am I going to do with all those things? Some people who have less, much less, do far greater things, and me, with all that I have been bless-fully given, have so much to give. How can I give?

I don't think everyone really thinks about their purpose, or why they are living and breathing; why they wake up every morning and carry on their lives day in and day out. It's sometimes thoughtless process driven by urge and necessity.

I've come so far, yet I know I have so much more to learn and so much more to do. So many more lives to touch, to change, and to help. It's hard to figure it out sometimes. When things are truly good, when they're not, when to stand by someone, when to leave, when to move on with your life, and when to say "hey, I just can't- not yet." Maybe not ever.

What's this all mean? I'm not so sure, but tonight on my drive home, I thought about it all. I'll think about it tomorrow, and I'll think about it forever. Maybe someday I'll be judged, or maybe someday I'll die and just be gone, proving those scientists right who say that when you're dead, you're dead. maybe I'll be reincarnated, go to heaven and visit lost friends and family, and those I never met.

I just know, that whatever the case may be, I don't want to ever be forgotten.

"Even when you don't know that people are watching you."

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Please think about this

What's Not On The Label

My dreams of a life outside this cage
come blurred, mouth foaming and body numb.
It stiffens when they come and inject their needles.
I don't know what they're doing
or why they're doing it to me-
why I'm here, or if I'll ever leave.
They tell me "it's okay,"
that I'm a good boy,"
while softly petting me
and fill my veins with a poison that slowly
pulls me in and out of nightmares
sometimes more soothing than images in my conscious mind.
I don't want to be here
but I know nothing else.
I used to feel lonely
but now I can't feel anything,
my body so impaired that when my heart beats my limbs shake.

And later, a man sits cross-legged at his kitchen table drinking expensive tea with his beautiful wife. "After all that work, the damn medicine turned out not to even work. Had to toss the whole experiment into the garbage."

And while he sips, the beagle lies alone in his cage. His lungs collapsed, no longer allowing air into his body. No photo montage of a life-well lived flashes before his eyes, but as his eyes slowly close, he's comforted by his reoccurring dream of a small boy laughing and playing with him, his tail wagging happily each morning as he's lovingly hugged at the neck. 

The child lets go, and the beagle's eye-lids fall shut.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

The Pro's and the Con's of the "Good Life"

Things have been going great lately. I joined a martial arts gym and have been kickboxing every day. For the most part my diet is back in control, although every 2-3 days I get an uncontrollable urge for sugar (I'm battling some kind of "detox eating disorder" from post bodybuilding training, my body lacked carbs for so long I get these uncontrollable craving now that the only thing I can do is fulfill them). I have been able to start doing things that make me happy again; horseback riding, reading, writing, and drawing. AND, I have gotten involved with PETA and am working on starting a Wallingford-Cheshire Animal Rights Group (stay tuned for more information). I have my dream truck, I am very close to having my dream house ( a cabin-like two floor house in the woods with a huge porch and a yard).  My job's good- I work at basically a spa so when I'm not personal training or teaching aerobics, I can be working out, playing basketball, or in the sauna/steamroom. AND, finally, I'm on a great routine, up early and in bed early(ish). 

The con's of this life are as follows; 
The more I find myself, the more distant I become from my friends. 

It's like this: everybody goes out on Thursdays and Fridays, and Saturdays, and I'd rather be kickboxing, or working out, or working, or trying to save money. I'd rather be volunteering, or outside, reading, or horseback riding.  Unfortunately those are all hobbies that are not shared with my friends, and they're mostly things to do alone. I find it hard to relate and connect with other people. Have you read before in my previous blog posts that living like this is lonely?

The economy stinks right now, so even though my jobs great, the hours aren't. It's to the point where I have to decide "gas or groceries." It's even harder now as a vegetarian, having to buy organic soy products and expensive whole foods, fruits, and vegetables. 

I have no idea how I'm going to afford my truck and house. I haven't had a full tank of gas since I got my truck. 

I have a lot of free time, and I'm using it for me, but it costs money. Kickboxing costs money. It costs money to drive to kickboxing all the way in Rocky Hill. Even if I had people calling me to go out and do things, I wouldn't be able to because I literally have no money in my bank account. All my new hobbies take up time, which I could use to work another job. My other jobs make it almost impossible for me to have another job because the hours are so random and scattered. 

It's tough living at home. I got along better with my parents when I didn't see them every single day, all the time, and they weren't in my life and business 100%. I think this is true for every parent/kid relationship. I need to get out.

I'm trying to stay positive. I'm having fun, enjoying having the chance to "find out who I am" and finally feel like I have a purpose again. Unfortunately, money means everything in life. Those who say that money doesn't = happiness obviously haven't really struggled with it that badly. Money isn't everything, but it definitely is important in life. I just wish I could find a way to make a little bit more so the stress could be lifted off my shoulders. 

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Back Online!

Hello everyone... I'm happy to say that I'll be back posting on this blog and taking a break from my fitness blog. For those of you who followed my fitness blog, I'm sorry I haven't been updating it... I have started a few new more "professional" jobs and have chosen to keep my own personal fitness endeavors private for now. You may see me update it at so e point next year if I decide to try and body-build again in the spring, but that seems doubtful as of right now. Feel free to contact me with any fitness questions if you previously used my blog as a resource.

So what's been going on in my life outside of fitness? I'm working a lot, personal training a lot of new clients and also working with the town of Cheshire a lot more now since it's the summer. I love that job- having the chance to make a positive impact on the kids and be a role model for some of them who don't have anyone to look up to. 

Other than that, all of my hobbies have mostly been fitness related; I just joined a martial arts gym, something I have always been wanting to do (spirit, mind, body is what I always tell my clients). Martial arts are great for people in so many ways other than physical fitness, and I'll be taking classes in boxing, kickboxing, Muy Tai, Ju Jitzu, and grappling, all in a weekly basis. I'll be attending 5-7 classes next week alone. 

I have also been doing a lot more for myself. Reading, writing, drawing, writing music and playing the guitar, and spending more time at the barn with the horses. I was there yesterday and today, trying to ride and take care of Trigger, one of the horses at the barn who my family takes care of, as much as I can. 

I also am slowly but surely converting to vegetarianism. The only reason that I'm enduring a slow conversion is because I have $150 worth of non vegetarian food in my fridge, and I need to finish that so I don't waste the money. The switch for me is not for health reasons, but 100% in protest of animal cruelty. This is something that I have always been  passionate about, but never became a vegetarian because of bodybuilding and my overdosing consumption of animal proteins. I'm smart, I know nutrition well, and I can certainly maintain muscle while not eating chicken, steak, and turkey anymore. This switch is not hard for me at all. 

Although I love chicken, I'm to the point now where I feel guilty eating it, and if you know me, you know my biggest pet peeve about people is those who talk the talk but don't walk the walk. I can't stand it when people watch the documentaries and videos on YouTube about inhumane slaughterhouses, complain and act sorrowful about them, and then proceed to get a burger for dinner that same night. I've complained and felt sorrowful for these animals, and I'm done being a part of the pain they go through. 

I have about 4 boxes of Purdue chicken and some deli-meat left in the fridge. After that's gone, I'm done with all meat (besides fish). Most people would think I'd be savoring that food, but I'm not. I can't wait for it to be gone. I'm not looking at it as my last chicken ever, I'm looking at it as "this food should never have been produced and put on grocery store shelves in the first place." 

I'm learning to like veggie and chick'n, they actually go great in whole wheat pitas. 

I'll leave you with a video; please watch it and comment. Check out for more info. 

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

It's been a while

So here's a poem... 

Recovery Through Raindrops


I hadn’t smiled in a while

only smiled with you…

always wanted to be with you—

I dreamed of you.

Never held a hand like I held yours,

it felt so different, warmer and softer.

When I held you at night

things felt right—

I’d never slept that well before.

I loved waking up with you in my arms

like it was natural, you were put there for me, finally.


The greatness of the oceans, the beauty of the sea, the perfection of the weathered sands, and the miracle of you and me.


I can somehow breathe again with tranquility of raindrops

the mellowness caresses my shoulders, brings me home.

Yet every night brings nightmares that always make my heart stop—

they plague me with the feeling that I’ll always be alone.


Thursday, March 26, 2009

Reflections from back on the east coast...

     Coming back across the county has been tough. I already feel it--the pressure to be someone I'm not, the pressure to do things I don't want to, the pressure to loose focus on my goals and the things I've been dreaming of. It's so hard to stay consistent and be who I want to be, and who I am.
I told my friend this in California; it's so crazy that some of my closest friends have ended up being some of my worst enemies. 
     Not that they try to: I conformed to what people wanted me to be, and now trying to find myself again has been hard. I know the path I want to take, and every day I fight battles to stay on it. 
     These battles are hard, and I WON'T win them all, but at the end of the day, I need to be able to get back up from my loss and remember who I am. I want to be a role model, someone that people look up to and talk about. I want people to tell their friends "he's a great guy." "He's got a good heart." 
      Back across the country, it's hard living in a place where nobody quite "gets" me. When nobody understands how you tick, they don't know what's bothering you, or if they're hurting you, and people around me here are relentless. Some days I want to fight on, and some days I want to break down. 
      It seems as though loneliness is a common theme for me. It may be my biggest fight to come. The question is, how can I defeat it?

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

::The Revelation::

     It's always crazy how bad you may think you want something one day, and then the next, realize you'd either built something up more than it really was in your head, or it's just not as good as you thought it was or should be.
     When this happens, it's kind of like a big let-down... it's like you spend so much time thinking and dreaming about that one thing, and then in one quick instant, it all falls down. 
     I guess it really is true, life is like a roller coaster. Sometimes there's very high highs, very low lows, and then the rest of the ride manages to stay somewhere in between. 
     I'm in California now, flying home tonight and I'll be home by tomorrow. I love being out here, but I've been away for almost two weeks and I'm ready to come home. I've decided to take summer classes and not go away to personal train in the Pocono's this summer. This may make for a miserable summer break, yet it pushes me forward in the long run, enabling me to graduate next Spring and not in two falls from now. 
     I think I want to open a gym when I graduate. The two things I love in life are fitness and reading/writing, and if I someday had my own gym, that would give me plenty of time to write. I also love helping and working with people, and opening a gym, if done right, is a great way to care for and help others. 
      This may change tomorrow.

     Hence, I guess I'm over the "I've got to be somewhere else" stage in my life. 
I would give anything to be able to move away, but the key phrase there is be able.
With the people I love, mainly my family, in Connecticut, I couldn't be away from them for too long of a time. I guess I'll have to just suck up New England's painfully cold and miserable winters, and the "up-tight, close minded, and non-health conscious" people that surround me. 
     I guess thats why I'm here... to make an impact and create a change...

The Nature of Man

            It was Friday night and I had chosen to be the designated driver for another night of college parties and beer runs; That night’s party would be taking place about twenty minutes away from my college campus. Lately I had been doing a lot of “self evaluation,” attempting to reform certain unfavorable aspects of my life. Sometimes being the only sober person in a group of drunken college kids can teach you a lot about yourself; who you are and who you don’t want to be. That night would certainly prove to be a reflective one, filled with new experiences and a final event that would keep me up for nights thereafter.

            The party was fun—not too wild or loud; the perfect environment to meet new people and not feel uncomfortable being one of the few people not drinking at the house.

            However, as the “jungle juice” (a variety of mixed liquors, juices, and sliced fruits) began to disappear from the oversized garbage can in the living room, I began to feel distanced from everyone at the party. I can only describe this “distance” as like being on the outside of a very funny inside joke. The night got later and people began laughing at everything, stumbling and falling everywhere, getting edgier and louder. It wasn’t long before I was ready to leave.

Thankfully so were some of my friends. We piled into my car and started our drive back to the University. Next to me in the front seat was one of my fraternity brothers; drunk, happy, and eager to ignite conversation within my speeding Monte Carlo. In the back seat were three girls; girls I had briefly met before yet had never actually had any real conversations with.

As we drove home, we all joked and laughed. One girl had clumsily fallen down the stairs just as we were leaving the party, and we teased another for her “awkward encounter” with one of my fraternity brothers.

It was after 1AM when we climbed the final hill that led to the girl’s college dormitory entrance. The ride had been interesting, as many comical topics had been addressed. I was finishing up conversations by flirting with the girls and preparing to say goodnight.

Without warning, in one surreal moment, world wars and poverty would be pushed aside as my world’s pain and suffering would redirect itself to the lonely street that we were driving on.

I narrowly missed it. The white figure gleamed like an angel, vibrant and captivating taking me by surprise. I was driving fast, slightly over the speed limit, and just as I began to slow down to turn into campus, the small cat darted in front of my car.

My relief of narrowly missing hitting it was suddenly exchanged with horror. Like an unexpected twist in a thought-to-be perfect movie ending, a car driving on the opposite side of the road struck the cat. It hit the cars front driver side wheel and then was propelled upward, then back down to the pavement.

Seeing this, I instinctively pulled my car over, jumping out and rushing to the cat.

The executing car sped off into the darkness and it was silent as one or two of the girls followed close behind me.

The cat wasn’t dead though. Its body twitched and contorted on the pavement, writhing in agony as it continuously tried to get up. After several seconds of doing this, it then peacefully sank to the pavement, dieing before I reached it. Ironically, the scene had seemed so over dramatic and fictitious—yet it was occurring right before me. I had never witnessed death before, only seen it acted out on soap operas and cinema screens. Sadly, this was the way that that creature would die, away from its family and in the middle of a cold New Haven street.

Part of me wanted to run back to my car and speed off too. I didn’t want to see the lifeless animal closer, and I was frightened by the possibility that it might still be alive. If I moved it I could harm it more than it was already, or worse, it could die in my arms as I carried it back to my car in hopes of driving to an emergency veterinarian clinic to try and save its life.

Yet the image of white fur contrasted with black pavement drew me forward, casting an unbreakable spell.

“That motherfucker,” I said out loud, gazing up and down the street in search of the driver who’d hit the cat. My words echoed in the night; questions about the nature of man and why people do the heartless things they do, echoing through my mind.

The remainder of the drive back to the University was silent—I clutched the steering wheel angrily, knuckles white and face expressionless.

After dropping the others off, I now had to drive to my own apartment. I felt more distant in my car alone then I had felt all night at the party. My route back would require me passing by the cat one last time.

I hoped it would be gone—that it had somehow stood up and walked away unharmed, now sitting on the lap of its owner being scratched between the ears and purring happily.

As my car approached, the white silhouette was still there, alone, motionless, and distant, in the street.

I drove by slow; the way friends and family say goodbye to a loved one at a wake. Its body was altered, probably hit by another car after I’d left it. I imagined a car filled with drunken college kids, the driver speeding up the car to run the dead body over, then laughing and making jokes that they wouldn’t remember in the morning. I felt sick to my stomach.

I couldn’t sleep that night. The image of death lingered in my bedroom, watching me as I lay in the dark, waiting to invade my dreams.

And as the nature of man is, I proceeded on with my life the next day. Somebody, a mourning cat owner, or an under paid city worker, removed the body from the street in the early morning.

I wondered about the body’s final burial; did someone bury the body under a willow tree or in some sentimental place in their backyard, standing over the broken ground teary eyed and remorseful. Or did somebody merely just toss it into a mangy garbage stained casket, only to be collected by the trash man once the dumpster was full.   The thought lingered in my head for a while, and then I wondered if it even mattered.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

(A poem from a while ago)

At The Fair

A skeleton dances in the window

of a tower which harbors ghosts and fear,

and screams can be heard from inside.

Children run by me,

and hop behind the wheel

of cars which will soon crash.

One boy yells for his mother,

signaling for her to come to him.

Two more race across the green

and disappear into a crowd.

Some board alien space shuttles,

and others enter rockets;

yet some prefer the pirate ships.

People shout in the distance,

pleading for money to play

games that can’t be won,

and some girls walk by and smile at me,

as they sip from mango flavored smoothies.

I turn my head as people are suddenly propelled into the air

in an elevator stretching for the Heavens.

Their shrieks of satisfaction can be heard,

and when their feet touch the ground again,

a smile overtakes their faces.

Another child calls for his mother,

who holds a giant stuffed dog under one arm

and appears aggravated and tired.

I take everything in.

I take in the sights of pure mayhem,

which have taken over this once peaceful place.

I sit back on the bench

and eat the last nacho in my tray,

and then I close my eyes

breathing in the nights fresh air.

When I open them the mayhem is gone

and I’m alone under the star-lit sky.

"Nobody ever taught me how to live..."

     Lately I've felt like a completely different person. I've been pretty focussed on school, VERY focussed on diet and nutrition, and found myself less concerned with superficial relationships and other factors in my life. I don't know what happened, it's almost like something just clicked inside of me and said "wake up man, you're here to do more." 
     I've also had this urge to "get out" or "get away" lately. Like there's people somewhere in this world that are more like me, and I just need to figure out a way to meet them. They're not here. 
     And yes I'm lonely. 
     I feel alone because the things that I believe in, value, and drive me toward my goals are things that I share with no one, yet I know there's people out there who think the way I do. I'm sick and tired of fitting into these "molds" here in college. I just want to be myself and do what makes me feel happy and satisfied. 
     At least I feel as though I'm moving forward. There's times I feel that I'm not, or worse, I'm back tracking in my own shoes. Lately I've been accomplishing a lot, and proving a lot of things to myself. I'm a lot more confident now. I've found this confidence within the last few weeks and again, I don't know where it came from. 
     I'm also struggling with A LOT of internal conflicts. Nothing I want to post on this blog, but they deal with both relationships and addictions. These things have nothing to do with anyone; it's all within me. 
     My biggest struggle is something I have heard a lot about before I ever struggled with it. It's something I've been told of and warned of, and something I've felt since the day I started college four years ago. Everything around me is different now; but they haven't changed... I have. 
     I find it hard to adapt. 
     I want to start over everyday. It's one of my goals- it's something that drives me to graduate college with good grades, and hopefully soon I'll be out of here... at least for a while. 
     California is ideal, it's where I feel I belong right now. It's where I plan to be very soon. 

Wednesday, February 25, 2009


                  The man walks. The man, plump and bright approaches the Volkswagen. Sees his reflection—shudders then chuckles.

                  The keys come in full force across the sky. Magically, they jingle across the parking lot and into his palm. He unlocks the door, opens it. One bare foot in, than the other. Suddenly, one bare foot out, than the other. He wonders where his sandals have gone. He shudders, then chuckles, wiggles his toes and gets out.

                  Magic again as the doors mysteriously lock without the jingling keys. He is enlightened. He is at peace.

                  He sits on the roof of the wagon. Calm and still, he is interrupted by a salesman. He pleas for a sale but there is no success.  He shudders, then chuckles, takes back the keys, and goes back inside. And the sacred man is lost in thought. Sandals pass through his mind, taking away pain from pebbles lodged in the bottom of his feet and between his toes.

                  The earth spins at its axis. Somewhere, a baby is born. Then another. Cars move in and out of the lot, yet he remains silent and distant.

                  A crowd gathers.  The crowd points at a man, plump and bright, who sits indian style on the roof of a Volkswagen. Some claim he floats, but none get close enough to tell.

                  And then he returns from his journey. He shudders, then chuckles, seeming not to notice the crowd. He rolls down off the car.

                  He waves his hands high in the air, and the crowd’s jaws drop in awe. They shudder, then chuckle.

                  Out comes the salesman, who has been keeping eye from his desk. 

                  “I’ll take it,” says the man, plump and bright.

                  The salesman hands the round man the keys in exchange for a sack, light and fat. The exchange is quick, and the man, plump and bright, is soon on his way. He walks down the street barefoot, jingling his new set of keys. The salesman leans against the Volkswagen. Inside the sack he finds happiness. As he empties it, flower petals fall to the ground, some blowing away in the wind. He shudders, then chuckles.


Tuesday, February 24, 2009

The Take-Over

     Have you ever had an emotion or feeling that no matter what you do, you can't lure it out of your mind? Usually it's spurred by something new in your life; an experience, idea, or a person.         
     This feeling IS NOT an obsession. It's just a feeling, like jealousness, sadness, pride, or love. It's a strong feeling that overtakes all other feelings. It keeps you up at night and causes daydreams during the day. 
     You still proceed through your everyday business, normally to others, but obstructed inside your head. 
     Sometimes this feeling is good, sometimes it's bad. And sometimes, you don't know if it's either. 
     The feeling is not always definable. It can be somewhere between love and hate, fear and courage, or desire and disgust. 
     You can have the best day ever, yet this feeling stops you from feeling good. You wish that the trigger of this emotion just didn't exist, yet it does, and it isn't going away. Feelings aren't things that can simply be erased or forgotten- it takes a dramatic turn in that emotion, good or bad to change it. 
     There's questions in my life that I need answered. They consume me. Realistically I know that only time can answer them, yet they have taken over my thoughts and dreams. 
     Inside me I feel the urge for an outcome. Good or bad, I need resolution. I need to get back to "normal." I need to get back to sleeping at night. 
     Have you ever had an emotion or feeling that no matter what you do, you can't lure it out of your mind?

Monday, February 23, 2009

And life goes on...

I always use this analogy to describe my love for fitness to people; Like some people find god or some people find Jesus, I found the weight room. I feel that picking up my first set of dumbells when I was fifteen years old really saved my life, and my love for fitness is something that I know I'll never loose. 
If you don't know me, I'm a personal trainer and aerobics/spin instructor as well as a college english writing/literature major. Those are my two passions, both in which I hope to make a difference by using. 
Last semester and during the winter break from school I really stopped working out and eating healthy. I drank too much and really lost touch with myself. I lost control in all aspects of my life; my friends and family, my social life, all organizational skills... my goals became farther away and my values became blurry. 
I guess the gym is something I keep "finding." I started back up this semester and the addiction returned, along with my organization, a happier-more energetic persona, and a refueled passion. I lost the desire to drink four or five nights a week, and sometimes ever, and I am VERY careful about what I eat. Although it's tedious, I track all of my calories and am right now planning to lean up for two photo shoots in a little over a month from now. It feels great to have goals again.
When I am eating healthy and working out regularly, everything seems to fall into place. The peer pressure to eat our or drink more than one or two drinks is GIGANTIC, and sometimes almost impossible to battle. I struggle with the urge to want to be out with my friends and eating and drinking what they are, with the urge to stay home and be alone to avoid these things. I need to be strong and keep hanging out with my friends; good fitness habits need to be enjoyable and not something that ruins any other part of my life. 
Academically I feel great too. I study a lot and actually started up a study group in my toughest class. A friend of mine, someone at this school who inspires me to work hard toward my goals, showed me something called... well I forgot what she calls it, but I call it a goal board. I bought a bulletin board for my room and tacked up the things that I am pushing for in my life. On the board is a picture of "ripped abs," and the words Bodyfat % less than 10%. Next to that is a picture of a Y and the Yale bulldog over it. This is because I want to go to Yale for graduate school. The numbers/words 3.7 GPA are over that. And last, under that, is a scene of a farm and house in the country. Someday I want to live in the country, in a place with a lot of land and a great place to write and have a family. This means a lot to me. 
I have tons of laundry to fold, and this blog sidetracked me tonight--- I WILL BE MORE CONSISTENT! Goodnight.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

And another...

A Thousand Ways To Say I Love You


Never spoken a single word,

his thoughts are blurred.

My world was torn

when he was born.


My heart is shattered everyday

that he can’t say

I love you Mom;

He can’t stay calm.


And in the car it comes to me—

it set me free;

I’m so proud of

his way of love. 

Just a quick little bit about my last two poems; the one above is about living with an autistic child. I was inspired by some videos I watched on YouTube and also from past experiences helping autistic children play soccer. 

The poem below is just a simple poem about growing up.

New Poem

I used to live out in the woods

with animals that knew my name
and when I spoke they understood
the logic of my made up games.

And when I cried they came to me-
they hurried to my wounded side.
The birds sang from the highest trees
and to my friends I would confide.

When it grew dark I was not scared,
though mother always called me in.
Yet I would never tell her where
the center of my fun had been.

Outside again I'll call them now,
but with the pines I forget how.

Monday, February 16, 2009


Sometimes I don't understand life, the way it works, and why bad things happen over and over and over to good people. Am I a good person? Sometimes I wonder what defines that. Tonight I'm going to bed with a lot of questions... will they ever be answered?

Sunday, February 15, 2009


I find myself, when alone, doing a lot of thinking. I think most people do. Every moment of silence brings on new revelation, and you can figure your life out in one instant, and then be perplexed in the next. 
You find yourself wanting to be someone else, to start over, and then you love who you are. Then you hate who you've become.
It's odd how it works. It's like being alone gives you an infinite time-clock where everything moves slower, and thoughts pass in and out of your mind with no warning. Sometimes you're torn by the them, sometimes enlightened. 
You want to savor the moments; sometimes you're alone for only a little while, and sometimes it feels like forever. Being alone takes many forms: alone in a room, or alone in the world. I think everyone is alone in the world even when surrounded by best friends and family. Nobody really knows how your mind works, not even you. 
When you're alone, you try and figure it out, but you never can. Or if you do, it never lasts. 
Tonight I wan to change the world. I want to be remembered, make a difference, save a life. Tomorrow, life will go on and the things that I value will turn blurry and fade just like the darkness of the night. Do things really clear up, or do they just get more and more dense?

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Two New Poems

Since my website has been under construction forever, I've decided to post some of my work on this blog until further notice. Below you'll find two of the poems I've written in the past few days. Enjoy!


Her fingers run through golden mane,
a man opens a trailer door.
She doesn't cry, even complain--
her family needs the money more.

She hugs his neck, their last charade,
it's silent in the barn tonight.
One thousand dollars will be paid
to take her pony out of sight.

He whimpers soft, looks in her eyes,
and it's apparent that he knows.
She kisses him and says goodbye
then watches as the trailer goes.

There's something missing in the air
and stolen dreams brush through her hair.

While Driving Home

The outside moves by in slow motion
as I drive off in my car,
I barely see the brightness of the ocean.

My day with her, my only notion
but I just can't tell where we are--
the outside moves by in slow motion.

Construction zones causing commotion,
bring traffic jams that stretch back far;
I barely see the brightness of the ocean.

And in my car invades emotion
with loud bass drums and sharp guitars--
the outside moves by in slow motion.

Without a choice, bitter devotion,
it hits me like a clear night's stars.
I barely see the brightness of the ocean.

Couples pass 'round their sun-tan lotion,
seagulls gather on sandy bars,
the outside moves by in slow motion;
I barely see the brightness of the ocean. 

Monday, February 9, 2009

"The only thing permanent is change"

There's been a lot of changes for me lately. I've got really good grades (not that that's a change, but it's something going well), I'm finally in my fraternity and not a pledge, my relationships with certain people are going well, and I've got a pretty good balance with my fitness, work, school, and social life. 
It's just crazy how life works; one day you're stressed, you hate it and don't want to wake up in the morning, and the next everything seems to go according to plan. I feel excited about a lot of things, things coming up and things farther down the road. I'm starting to think about a career and grad school and I actually have a lot of great options to consider.
I've made some of my best friends here at this school, it's been a great semester thus far. Last semester was one I'll never forget.
I think there's a time in life where you're just suddenly happy with who you are. You accept the negative things about you, like the fact that you always procrastinate, can't wake up in the morning, or are terrible at bowling, because they're like mini-battles that you fight every day. You also begin to embrace your good qualities, like being a good friend, always doing your reading homework, or being able to cheer someone up when they're having a bad day. I think that when you can recognize both your own good and bad qualities, you can get through your own good and bad time s a little easier. I feel bad for those without confidence; as lame as it sounds, if you don't love yourself, you can't love another person. If you're confident you can bounce back from anything- rejection, "failure," or any other type of tragedy. 
I don't want to write too much about my relationship with the opposite sex, but I would like to say that when you find something good, it's crazy how it makes you feel. It's like no matter what happens I can't stop smiling and I feel and look stupid all the time. I'm really bad at dating and relationships with girls, and have never really been in anything too serious. I've got all these "guy" questions that I wish someone would answer for me but feel dumb asking, like when should I call, or should I hold her hand, or how do I know what she's thinking... or when is it okay to give a goodbye kiss. It all sounds lame, but I'm pretty sure every guy asks these questions. This is probably the first time in my life I've felt both really good and really awkward about something. I both hate it and love it- ha ha
Enough of this stuff, I'm going to bed.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

"It's been a while"

It has been a while since I've updated this blog. Here's where I am in my life now...

  • I hate school. I feel like I don't belong here and don't care about 50% of my classes. They are unnecessarily boring, "lectury," and  non-relevant to anything in my life.
  • I'm busy working two jobs; one with Cheshire Youth and Social Services and the other with the Rec. Center teaching 5 classes a week. 
  • Personal fitness is important in my life one day and not the other. I work out every day but sometimes I'm more into it than others. However, I still LOVE teaching classes and personal training. 
  • I'm struggling to find a balance between "partying," school, fitness, personal time, and sanity. 
  • My future is open ended; If I'm going to apply to grad. schools I need to know soon, but do I really want to? 
  • Peace Corps.?
  • Also busy and very active with my fraternity and the schools literary magazine. 
Basically I'm really busy and on-and-off stressed. I can't help but feel like something's missing in my life. I've filled up my schedule with all these things but still feel empty in many ways. As the days progress,. the Peace Corps. are sounding more and more like a viable option for me. I need to get away, I want to give back and help others, I need to figure out my life, and I need to detach myself from this environment. All of it. 

I'm going to try and be more consistent with this blog. More soon, hopefully...

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Who Am I?

I had a long talk today with a good friend of mine about life and how I feel like I'm living about three of them. I literally feel like I'm more than one person, sometimes living one persona, and sometimes living another. 

One part of me is the "fitness guy." I'm a personal trainer who once aspired to be a bodybuilder. I lived my life on a very strict regiment, scheduling out every meal and completing multiple work-outs a day. I felt good being a role model; I didn't drink or eat bad or "party" and I took myself very seriously. I had very defined goals. They were written in quote form on my walls or in my gym locker, and a picture of a "ripped guy" with an 8-pack was in my wallet so whenever I went to order food, I'd see the body I was working for and not make an unhealthy choice. 

Another part of me is the "I want to change the world" guy. I went on mission trips and leadership conferences and volunteered on a regular basis. I cared about people so much that my entire life revolved around helping others. During this stage of my life, I felt more compassion than ever before and felt more alive than I ever had in my entire life. I felt a sense of purpose. 

Then there's the "aspiring writer guy." Writers write, and spend a lot of time doing so. I mean A LOT of time. It's something that has to be taken seriously. Time needs to be set aside every day to do it and it requires strict time management and discipline. This is the nerdiest and geekiest me, yet it is sometimes the most enjoyable. 

And last there's the "frat. guy." I just joined a fraternity last semester and it's been an amazing experience. When I was pledging for the fraternity, all my friends told me that it didn't fit my lifestyle and who I wanted to be, but they were and still are very wrong. I can't explain how good it has been for me to be part of something this great, and to know that no matter what, there's somebody there to help me out when I ever need it. Being part of this fraternity has taught me so many life lessons, and I have met some great and caring guys who have made it much easier to transition into my new school. Without this fraternity, I would have dropped out of my new school, hands down. However, sometimes living the Greek lifestyle involves partying, drinking, staying out late, and can get in the way with school and other things.

So every day I struggle with who I want to be. I CANNOT be all of these things, and some of them are so conflicting, yet I can see myself wearing any of the above persona's shoes. I'm very comfortable with me and who I am, I just don't know which me I want to be. I'd love to say I'm happy with this conflicting life, but sometimes I'm not. It's sort of depressing sometimes and I wish it was easier to figure everything out. 

This is the reason I've switched schools so much. Every so often I change into a "different persona" with different career goals and attitudes about life. I've switches from exercise science, to teaching, to social work, to writing, and I still have no idea what I want to do with my life. 

I hate these feelings, but it feels good to write them down. Night...

Thursday, January 1, 2009

New Years Blog

It's been very hard to stay consistent with this blog; I've been really busy and now that my fraternity pledging and my trip to visit my friend Peggy in San Fransisco is over, I am starting a whole new stage in my life. I WANT TO BE ACCEPTED INTO A GRAD. PROGRAM AT YALE, and I need to keep my grades/GPA up the next year and a half. Also, there's a lot of changes that I want to make this year in my life this year that are between...well, me and myself.
To write a blog entry, I have to be overtaken with some kind of emotion or idea that triggers me to sit down and write. I haven't been too inspired lately to write, and when I have been, I've been too busy or not in a good writing environment.
I wanted to write a blog about this, but never had the chance. Go see the movie Seven Pounds. It'll change your life, I can promise you. I couldn't sleep the night I first saw it and have seen it again since. It's made me think about a lot of things, and put many things in my life into perspective.
I didn't want to put any of my "writing" on this blog except for blog posts, but since the site is being constructed slowly, I'm going to add a poem I wrote on my plane ride home from California about the New Year. I think it works well with this blog and with the holiday.
Have a happy new year!


The happiness I thought I knew
deceived me then but now I wake.
The things I thought would get me through
have put the things I love at stake.

And now I'll need to get on track
though everything I know has changed;
I need to get that person back
whose love could never be deranged.

The happiness I thought I knew
has fallen deep within my dreams.
I never had to search far to
refind myself and mend the seams.

And passion holds a thousand hands
while waves burst down on ocean sands.