We Burned to the Ground, Left a Grave to Admire, And As We Reach For the Sky, Reach the Church of White...

    What's to say of being in a place you loath? Yet you have to remain there. Starting from scratch as you have before many times. Finding a place of your own making in the world. Defining yourself as something more than what others perceive you for.
    This is the third time I have moved to this town. The first time was exciting, the second a return, and the third a sentence to remain. I have come into my own in the time away, and I now feel a bit more at home in 'myself'. I am who I am, and must make the most of what was given to me.
    This town depresses me so. There is little to nothing to really do here excluding drinking the day away. Be drunk before two in the afternoon and sleep the rest of the time away. What is there to life in this god forsaken place?
    I talk as if this were hell, and to some extent it is. I was born in a small town, I spent the majority of my childhood in a small town, and here I am wasting away the younger adult years in a medium sized mediocre town. Evangelicals, Baptists, Catholics. They are all here, and they all are out to convert.
    Why the sudden break to religion you ask. How better to get a view of an area as per its religious background? I live in a state that has been said state for only one-hundred years now. Take a look at New York and see the original religious preferences. Over time they become lax and not as crazed and zealous. Sure there are those who break this idea, but consider the bigger picture. This state has the constant of religious activity that looks down on 'life'. It provides a scapegoat for people to throw all their fears upon.
    I digress, though. This post is more about feeling as if you are wasting your time somewhere you should not be. A big fish in a small pond per se. The larger the pond the bigger the fish is able to grow. I am that fish, and this town is my pond.

I leave you now with a marvelous Beirut song.


All I want is the best for our lives my dear,
and you know my wishes are sincere.
Whats to say for the days I cannot bare?

A Sunday Smile

Another Day, Just Breath; Another Day, Just Believe...

    So here I am writing my final entry into this thing in the place I am. I see that I move around a bit for the age I am. to me this is a good thing. For change is a necessity in my life. Without I go stale and lose all meaning to who I am.
    To say I am sad that I am going is to say a cow goes 'Moo'. I came into a home and to a family that I did not know and that did not know me. I leave having gained a greater amount of closure on who my father was and what he did with his life. The choices he made were not that best in the world, but I am happy he made them anyhow. To be me and to see such horror in the world is to affirm that there must be a few good people in the world. I believe my father was a good man. He made poor choices as we all must in order to learn. The only thing that I am aggravated about is that he did not learn from those choices. As I have not in many of mine.
    The more I came to know a man I did not a, a man I could not, the more I began to see that I am like him. That his flaws, characteristics, intellect, near everything was passed onto me. This break from my original thought of nurture versus nature. As now I feel that a lot of what we are as people has a lot to do with what we inherit from those who gave birth to us.
    In all, I am glad I stepped into a place I did not know. Into a family with problems that reminded me of my childhood. Into my skin. At this point all the uncertanties I had are all but gone. There are still a few, but far less than I came up here with.
    If this were a normal post I'd leave you with some music. Unfortunately, there are nineteen tracks I have and I am not willing to post them all. Just imagine some good Balkan brass, some synth, and a little face-melting guitar work in your head.