Pursuit of Optimism…

approx read time:  4 min

I’m a little cold… theatrem

I’m not complaining; I get to feel my skin in a unique way.

Goose bumps… Yes.

Not that I like them,  I don’t.  But I feel something.  I mean I always do, but Goose bumps feel different… or more [of whatever].

I find myself, as years add up, making an effort in taking the high road in all situations I find myself in.  Perhaps from sheer curiosity, I at least try very hard to see what could possibly be positive and optimistic.

I objectify myself from the situation, and delve into deep thought on whether or not it is my poor perspective, or pessimism, that is creating my shitty circumstance…

Which would mean I am creating my own shitty situation and bad feelings, not so much  what is actually happening.

Bad things happen, I get curious…  because I do believe words like “bad” and “wrong” is a choice of perspective.

Life is not good nor bad, those are simply labels we choose to use.

How we interpret and label what happens to us, happens in our minds.

When things seem really bad, and I’m having trouble seeing how it can be twisted into something good, neutral, or otherwise, I am afraid that I am at the brink of my philosophical depth.  And I may not be aware enough to know what the high road is.

I ask…

What is the good from this?

If optimism exists, then what would (or could) it look like?

What other ways can this be interpreted?

How might other’s interpret the things that have happened?

If there’s something good to find, then what??


Perhaps, I do not bare the awareness of consciousness or the depth of soul to answer those questions at all times, and I get distracted and succumb to the heat of the moment.

In most situations, optimism is there if you look.  I guess my point is that sometimes you can look and look but you may not be physically able to see far enough in front of you where the optimism plainly lies in a field full of shit.

If you don’t know it’s there, then it essentially does not exist as a reality.

I fear my ignorance narrows my optimistic potential.  That’s what I’m trying to say.

May sound stupid to you, but it’s profound to me…

To have a problem that has an answer— you just have to find it—- them’s comfort words to me.  If there is a good and bad side (and many others), then what and where are the good ones hiding?

But just having a problem doesn’t mean an answer is guaranteed, or that I am guaranteed to find it, or are guaranteed that I will even know that I’ve found it and should stop searching.

So this can be quite discouraging, to search and not really know when to stop searching.

Right and wrong are words of the future.  They have no present tense definition

Let me explain…

I’ve made a “bad” decision and it turned out good, or I was better off from it.

And I’ve made “good” decisions that landed me in terrible situations.

The words are diluted with interpretations that it sometimes feels like both are happening at the same time.

Am I supposed to feel comfort in what the transient definition of right and wrong are… at this moment??

Is it something to grasp onto for dignity, possibly perpetuating victimized mindsets, when something does not go my way???!

Should I just say,

“Well,  I did what I thought was right.”

…. and surrender all future control I might’ve had?!


The answer is no.


I have been, but I will no longer.


Right and wrong, are not the only classes of thought when you are living in the moment.

There’s maybe, sometimes, except, and besides.

There’s politics and gray area.

There’s loyalty and trust, promises and pinky promises, alliances and pacts.

And of course there’s the words lying and deceit for when promises are not kept and when loyalty is misrepresented.

The words right and wrong are mere minorities in a world full of words made to express excuses and justifications.

Or again, maybe “right” and “wrong” are simply not appropriate for use in the present tense.

I shant achieve any level of comfort on the basis that right and wrong does not exist universally; both across cultures, and across time.

The words Right and Wrong are mirages that cloud our judgement; a heavy fog on the road to self actualization and congruency.

It’s like trying to hit a moving target by classifying everything I see and do with just 2 words. 

It would be God’s greatest gift to me to relieve my mind of the words “right” and “wrong”. 


What….  Oh what…  Would I do without those words.

Killing with Kindness

Killing with Kindness

Oh, that feeling I get when a sarcastic fucking ass hole gives me the ol’…

“Have a great day!!”

Complete with an exaggerated friendly nod like we were best friends from childhood.  He had to pass me 3 times, and said it loud with a stupid grin on his face each time.

Fucking. Ass hole.

It was apparent he was proud of himself for thinking up this witty comeback to our little disagreement, assuming he could beckon a rise out of me.

He almost did, but he’ll never know that.

I tricked the outside of my body to do the exact opposite of what the inside felt like doing.  And while this bought me several minutes to talk myself down to serenity

Some notable thoughts crossed my mind…


Mostly because I needed to reassure my ego [so it can let go of its hold on me] I recognized that if I unleashed myself, there’s no doubt I’d have a choice on the level of pain I wanted him to feel until I felt an internal sense of Justice being served.

Thus relief from the fury.

Being a Sergeant in the Marines, I’ve been in enough ‘altercations’ in my life where it was clear to me this dude had no idea what animal he was poking a stick at.

Just thinking about that made me feel better momentarily.


He drove a shitty car, wore shitty clothes, overall unkempt appearance, I judged him to have a more pathetic life than me; and with less opportunity. 

Assuming my judgments were close to truth, he had a dead end job making just enough money to get by, with inadequate retirement funds, and will have a shitty life until he dies.

And because I’ve proved myself to be superior to him in my head, he became less of a “threat” to be taken seriously. 


Still angry but moving towards reason, my next thought…

Even though he’s being an ass hole today – and to ‘super important me’doesn’t mean he needs to be taught a lesson. 

And I certainly don’t need to be the teacher.

I barely have time for my family, I’m not about to spend more time teaching this piece of shit when to shut his mouth.

Thought #4!

This thought was a bit calmer…  It didn’t go as far as remorse or guilt, but I concluded that I was being an ignorant douche bag for thinking his clothes and shoes were shitty.  And that I shouldn’t assume he had a shitty job, shitty future, and shitty life altogether; just by how I see him today.

Even if I was correct, I began to feel awkward about having felt the need to belittle and insult him in my head.

Do I really need to criticize someone’s appearance and life choices in order to calm down and make myself feel better?

I expect that’s what a shitty person would do.

Thought #5

This thought made me suddenly realize what was actually going on…

He was just being “nice” to me.  No actual threat was happening.  He had already chosen his weapon of being super duper kind, and was not going to escalate further.

He had passed the ball to me, and I generously caught it.  And responded with 3 variations of, “Thanks, you too, brother.”

At first, I wasn’t sure if it actually was as genuine as it sounded.  Either I’m a terrific actor, or I’m growing up.

Thought #6

My next thought made me realize that the powerful emotional cocktail that flowed through my veins was the main source of my inner turmoil; not even that ass hole.

The intense emotions made me feel like a balloon packed tight with air, ever more pushing the limits of the cheap latex material, and awaiting explosion any moment. 

My emotions literally blinded my logic and objectivity of the situation.

So a sarcastic fucking ass hole taught me a good lesson.  He allowed me to see a flawed part of me that I wanted to overcome.

I would hope that I can be a person that overcomes tearing people down [whether in my head or not] to make myself feel better about bad situations.

I don’t need to prove myself superior, because I’m really not superior to anyone or anything. 

We are all on the same level, just walking different paths.

I want to be someone who respects others and accepts everyone as they are.  The most I feel is acceptable behavior is to influence others by holding myself to a high standard and living by example; even if its as simple as admitting when I’m wrong when interacting with others or picking up trash on the street.

In conclusion…

Even though my thoughts are my own, I didn’t want to enable myself by justifying my terrible thoughts because he “deserved” it.  As if I were God and get to decide what’s just and fair.

After all, I don’t want to be a shitty person.  And I don’t want to justify being a shitty person because other people are shitty to me.

All that leads to is everyone getting doused in shit.

[1.1] Crazy or Rare

I saw a white cross along the highway while driving on a lone road trip yesterday.  It’s safe to assume an unexpected and premature death from a car accident happened at that very spot.

Something came over me from my chest and expressed itself through my eyes. 

Then my thoughts started to focus… I came to a realization that I was feeling strong sadness because I was grieving for the life that had been lost, even though I did not know them.

For whatever reason, I felt like I lost one of my own. Bless that person who shared their time on Earth with me, I wish the best for the family and friends left behind.

Then… because I think too much…

I thought of war.  And then people acting ridiculous because someone is a different color, or isn’t your sex, or has sex with someone you don’t agree with, or just watch the news and see the other forms of hate large swaths of people are giving in to.

I began to feel embarrassed.

How can we do this to one another when we bitch, moan and complain when others do it to us?

I could be crazy, it wouldn’t surprise me, but that behavior is fucking insanity.

Quick Tangent  

I might be oversimplifying, but a strong majority of people only start to really care, at least to the point of activism, about drunk driving when someone close to them gets killed by a drunk driver.  People advocate for no smoking only when they find out they have lung cancer from smoking.  People become vegetarians only when they witness the slaughtering of animals, even though they knew it was happening all along.

It’s both humorous and not.

Humorous because of the ironic behavior no one seems to notice.  Not because of the actual suffering they have to go through for these things to become real.

Just being told is not enough for most people to care, let alone take action, especially if it’s in some far away country they’ll never have to go to anyway.  Or the caring fades quickly when something more interesting happens.

After all, there are too many things to worry and care about; and there is, that’s not sarcasm.

But that isn’t a personal pass to live within the bounds of ignorant bliss.

Only after being touched by the true existence of real suffering did they decide to make a change.

Maybe it is me that’s crazy.  I’m not though, just rare.  Not many like me.  And sometimes it sucks because it’s hard to find others like me so I feel alone a lot of the time, but that’s ok. 

Most people are of the rare kind in their own way.

People need to revel in their differences, not feel condemned by a society of good liars hiding in plain sight.

[1.6]: The Meaning of Life

[1.6]:  The Meaning of Life

I just want us to move in the direction of progress for future generations, and to respect those who have passed before us on whatever journey this is.  What else could there possibly be to live for except for the betterment of successive generations that come after us, and build off of the progress of those that came before us.

That is how the “system” of life should be working.

So you don’t have to fix anything.  Just start caring.  Some things probably won’t get better or solved within our lifetimes, and some will.  But for those that probably won’t, should that matter when it comes to working to solve them?

What the fuck are we doing with ourselves.  I don’t want a mid-life crisis, or to lie on my death bed wondering if my time on Earth had any meaning at all; perhaps I’ve wasted my time and effort on pursuing the wrong things because I chose to ignore what was truly important (money vs family is an easy example, but by a long shot is that the only one).

As long as I continue to care, my life will have meaning.  After all…

I believe it’s the “caring” aspect that is the result of our souls receiving vibes from life around us.

Don’t ignore your 6th sense.

It is the sense that connects all of life together as one.

Move on to Block 2 – Identity Crisis

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