Well my last post was so negative that I have had a hard time convincing myself not to drop this site all together. After spending some time thinking about it, I decided not to make such a rash decision. I’m going to keep it and give it another go. I’ll be making some new rules to my posting style though to prevent such a long and silent period.
My verbal temper tantrum was uncalled for and somewhat overblown. I now realize the importance of keeping every post on the positive side. When you start submitting negative posts and giving into the desire to rant with uncontrolled frustration and criticism, not only do you lose credibility from a readers perspective, you tend to start losing credibility towards yourself. From here on I’m going to make it a goal to not only pick up where I left off by continuing to use this site, I will also try my best to keep everything I write very positive.
I’m also going to try and post more often. I’m thinking once a week would be a healthy start. Haven’t decided a good time to write once a week. Maybe I’ll make it a Saturday morning thing. I’ll test the waters a bit.
Anyway. I didn’t want to make this a long post. Just a quick thing to get this concoction of a site rolling again. I’ll try a more complete update within the next few days.
Disclaimer: This is basically a Pity-Party-Post. Save yourself from my mere journaling and read some cool stuff on Quora.
Well … I didn’t get a chance to write about Alaska a whole lot. Pity. I really wanted to. Oh well. I’m back up in the UP right now. Just started my third semester here. So far so … good? … I wish I could say that more confidently but I can’t. This semester has had a rather abnormal start from all other semester in my college educational career. Due to the combinations of poor planning skills and a crunched time frame, things were not set up to run as smoothly as they should have. I was unable to set up residency before my arrival and have been relying on my sister’s good graces for shelter. I was also unable to find a decent job this semester and so decided to accept my invitation to my previous sub-par job. Some of my friends are gone. The classes I am taking appear to be of a greater challenge as well. Basically …. I’ve got myself in a mess. A big tricky mess.
Granted, I’m sure out there probably even in this city there are many people who have it worse than I do. I tend to complain more than I believe I have the right to. But still, all I can think about right now is how badly I want out. This sucks. I’m basically homeless, without a stable decent job, and school is kicking my … well … my gluts! It doesn’t help that school was also doing that less than two weeks before now in Calc 2.
I believe I wrote a brief post about that a while back. If I didn’t, I’ll summarize. I chose to take an accelerated Calculus 2 course during the summer which had a class every day of the week for two and a half hours for five weeks straight. Yes, it sucked. It really really sucked. Long story short, this class took away most of my summer while upsetting the majority of my family which led to someone being kicked out which festered some resentment towards my education. In the past, I have never been deeply motivated by school. Good grades are great, but I have never valued them beyond the avoidance of the embarrassing experience of bad grades. A pat on the back doesn’t feel that different to most of the 4.0’s I have received. (I’ve probably written about that in the past as well) My point is …. well … that class really burned me out.
Although I did indeed pass the class, I didn’t do it with flying colors. I consider what I received as a bad grade. (Some say passing is good, but I set my standards high so I don’t completely succumb to my lack of 4.0 motivation) Because I gave so much and came out feeling poorly, that class left a few wounds that are still a bit tender to touch. It’s one thing to spend a school years away and get to see your parents periodically on breaks and the start of the summer. However, seeing them grow distant from you because of a class you chose to take, that’s a pretty painful thing to swallow. I had to go up north feeling that these wounds I feel are still mutual between those closest to me. My mother and father expressed how much they missed me. Saying goodbye was not easy when I came up north. My eldest brother who has always been the understanding and encouraging one in my life twice spoke the sly remarks of a forgotten brother who wanted to see that he still mattered.
So in a nutshell, that class has left me pretty resentful towards school in general. I usually never struggled to get excited to learn new things and meet new instructors. This semester, however, has come with it’s share of heavy baggage. I truly miss my family. I regret having treated them like shit. They mean more to me than this stupid place. I will probably go to my grave saying that I do not belong in school. I am a laborer. My heart lies with the tasks and duties of a smaller group. I wonder how often a doctor smiles in comparison to a garbage man. The world is what you make of it, not what it makes of you. …. That’s enough. I’ll dream more about simpler careers in the morning. For now, I better get to sleep, I have to be up and ready for class in five hours. ……
This very moment I am flying to Seattle aboard an Alaskan airline. This is my first flight ever. The word excited does not fully express how I feel right now. I have wanted to fly my entire life. To finally get to see the tops of of the clouds is truly blissful. I struggle to write this post because I can’t stop looking out the window. It’s so amazing to look down and see the perfectly organized plots of land divided by the thin threads of winding roads. Truly remarkable. I haven’t seen real mountains yet so it’s hard for me to describe clouds as mountainous but that’s the only word that comes to my mind. I just can’t get over how beautiful it is. I wish I could see this view every day. I have my doubts towards ever having an opportunity to fly commercially but I will certainly pursue getting a private pilot’s license. Looking out the window, I keep thinking how I don’t want it to end. It’s a little uncomfortable how close I am to a stranger but I just love this. I do get to have my dear girlfriend, Katrina with me. We were able to sit next to each other. She enjoys flying but has seen it enough to not care that much. I wonder if I could ever feel like that.She compared the first-flight experience to seeing an ocean for the first time. I can understand that and I do truly enjoy the beauty that holds. Two shades of blue divided by the incredibly straight line we call the horizon. It really is a wonderful sight to see but I feel different now compared to how I felt in that first experience. Flight is incredible. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get tired of it.
First of all, let me say that the title of this post may sound similar to a book title. (I believe) Don’t get these mixed up. This mind ramble I am prefacing is nothing but personal thoughts at the moment
Feelings, moods, temperaments, attitudes and other such mental related states. These all play big roles in defining who we are and how we live every day. The paths we take in a day depend greatly on our frame of mind. When it comes to eating a meal, working hard, listening to someone and many other tasks, each employment of our mental faculties depend greatly on how we feel and our current moods. Many of our instincts in certain moods help us in those times that we need it. In a bad mood our lack of social contact may help prevent hurt on another by an accidental slip of the tongue.In a case of a good mood we may feel inclined to give our good friends a pat on the back.My question, to the corner of the internet I hope few visit, is this. Do feelings and moods truly matter?
My plan was to go on ranting about it but my eyes are trying to close so I’ll have to make a part 2.
One of the odd things about selfishness is that even though you’re making yourself primary, most of the time we don’t realize we are doing it. In our culture it has become so habitual to say the me, I and my words that we can’t even tell how much of our conversation contains ourselves. In the book How to win friends and influence people by Dale Carnegie, I believe he mentioned how people love talking about themselves and therefore a good listener is often liked. (Don’t quote me on that though, it’s been years since I didn’t finish that book) I have often wondered when I have to “endure” listening to someone talk, if I am being selfless by listening, or selfish by wishing I could speak my thoughts. Me, my, myself. Is the desire for someone to stifle their rambling a selfish one? Or is this a reasonable desire for our own involvement? Honestly, sometimes I really wish I could unload a little. I do sometimes. Actually probably more than I should at times. I just happen to be so picky with my listeners and I simply detest “small talk”. Gosh I hate small talk. Well, only if it goes nowhere. Small talk that fill the task of “catching you up” with events of the day or meals. Most anything can break from pointless small talk but only (I believe) if the speaker is asking for involvement.
Ok. I might have something with that. What do I mean by “asking for involvement”? Let me venture a little. If someone speaks and no feedback is given, this could be small talk. If someone speaks tailoring their speech for feedback. This could also be small talk but there is an opportunity for more. Now, if someone speaks not either caring for or expecting feedback, this is small talk. So here’s my idea. I might be getting annoyed at the seemingly selfish speech coming from my friend because it does not seem to involve myself by needing or inviting feedback. The words that convey an event are simply told and not discussed. …. hmmm. Ponder this, I will. I need to call my gf.
Do you ever feel like a plastic bag? Lol. Sorry about that Katy Perry reference there. It just so happened to be the first lyrics that came to my head. I was just thinking. I haven’t found any new great music to listen to. I’ve been dealing with the same ole music that I’ve been listening to for the past few months. I really need to work on expanding my library. I just don’t know where to begin my search for more good music. Owl City hasn’t written anything in a while, OneRepublic and Imagine Dragons are getting old and Beethoven is dead. I really should invest more time in my passion for new music. Don’t get me wrong, I love my current collection of music. I will never cease to name several as “my favorite songs”. I just feel so tired of the same art I always listen to. It makes me feel as though I’m failing at something. Like I have an obligation to work harder to find and appreciate the amazing art that is out there. If only I had a place where someone understood the art I truly loved and could recommend for me. If only the musical sound that makes me grin and shudder could be heard by another. That’s the funny thing. We all have those moments where a song hits the spot. Where the song in its perfect “sound” seems to synchronize with our passion. The sound that for a moment makes us stop and listen. The sound that makes us happy. Those moments, those feelings, they may not always be exclusive, but we all process them differently. If only someone could see what the intricacies I hear behind certain songs felt like to me. They would truly have the key to my heart. To truly understand a person is something even I fail to comprehend. How would you do it? I imagine spouses have something like this. Not just a love, but an understanding. I truly caring and patient understanding. Something that serves both of them very will. Serves them by seeing the complications of the spouse and standing there when needed. Gosh, how cool would that be. I’m getting side tracked.
I basically would like to know what to listen to next. After a Twenty One Pilots concert, I wouldn’t mind listening to more things like Guns for Hands, Migraine and Fake You Out. Those songs have some pretty cool sounds. …. I don’t know. … these posts are getting worse. I should try revamping the blog and write about something good.
Have you ever had a desire for something amazing? Have you ever wished you could do something great? Have you ever had a feeling of being truly alive at the thought of pursuing a dream?
I have always considered being a pilot to be one of the greatest honors in the world. I can remember being rather young and watching a small prop plane fly over our farm. I thought of of the person controlling that machine and stared with wonder at the skill involved. In my eyes a pilot deserves nothing less than admiration. Not only do pilots perform the art of controlling marvelous planes, but they have had to work hard in order to earn that right. I can say with a fair amount of confidence that all pilots, regardless of how well they perform flight, deserve admiration.
I have always yearned to get my feet off the ground. The higher the cooler. That was the rule in my book I lived by. I have always loved anything that had to do with getting my feet off the ground. I climbed a lot. Trees, ropes, silos, roofs, barns, anything. I climbed everything my parents approved of and everything they didn’t. Sometimes I wonder why I’m not dead. Seeking the adrenaline I would occasionally climb to the lookout window at the peak of our loftless hey barn and hang by one hand off of the small platform mounted there. This was by no means impressive seeing as the height was only about 60′, but I think it helps make my point. I love heights.
So what does this have to do with piloting? Well aside from the obvious relation of my love for heights and a plane’s purpose to climb heights, I honestly don’t know. I can not say for sure whether or not I would actually enjoy flying a plane. I myself have never ridden in a plane. I don’t even think I’ve ever touched a plane! I’m not scared of getting on a plane. I just never got the chance! Even an airline. I grew up in a family that never really travelled. This in some ways was a blessing and in other ways a sore spot for me. I’ve always been jealous of the people I knew who were flying somewhere. From my dad getting deployed in Spain for 6 months to my Grandparents making trips to Mexico. I have always just wished for an opportunity to flying somewhere. Even if it was just for the ride there and back. I’d give a lot to do just that. But here I am and the highest I have ever been was probably the Willis Tower in Chicago. (Not really accounting for sea level) That was pretty sweet by the way.
So what am I going to do with these yearnings and dreams and wishes to do something great. I think I’m going to try to make some steps. Maybe take an intro flight soon. That would be awesome. However, I can’t be irrational here. I have to think look into this before I can truly know I need to do it. I’m pretty sensitive to criticism which makes me listen to the dream crushers of this world sometimes a bit too often. This could be problematic for the career.
Frankly, I have had dreams. Dreams where my wish to achieve them made me feel alive. Dreams of something amazing and dreams of doing something great. But piloting has not yet consumed my dreams. I cannot be sure till I invest some real time with it. I want to be sure that what I love is right for me. I want to understand that what I am feeling is a true passion. Until then, I am not ready. For now, I think I’ll pass on watching the new Captain America.