10 days later...which became 17...

there's a man i'll never get to know.

the man i was growing up to be.

he's the kind of guy you want to be around because he's just right.

even when he's wrong.

he's got the whole world ahead of him and all the opportunity in the world.

he's got the ambition to know what he wants and the drive to get there.

but he's also got the integrity to keep finding himself along the way.

i close my eyes and see him sometimes, though not as often as i used to. his absence is unbearable.

it makes me wonder what happens to all those hopes and dreams and ideals we find so easy to hold when we're still new and green.

i close and open my eyes and i'm there.

in a world where "jaded" is a thing of the past, we're all so much "happier."

billy's president. in fact, so is tommy. and mike. and jillian. there are three hundred twenty thousand presidents of the united states. the division of powers would be enough to choke on but the forty eight thousand constitutional lawyers and sixteen thousand executive branch secretaries and coordinators have it all under control.

we don't have to worry about health care because no one ever gets sick anymore. all our best scientists and doctors stopped working on the cures for hair loss and impotence and figured out the real shit. cancer's unheard of, unless you sign the "i'm a fucking idiot waiver" and choose to smoke. then you're fucked. and the baby-booming of the third world countries now not having to deal with disease is providing for a significant increase in a return to physical labor and manufacturing. but green, of course. always.

our schools and jails and welfare programs all realized that to reduce crime they'd have to work together in the same direction. schools have more community outreach for kids and get them more involved than ever before. jails teach inmates new skills and educate them at least through their GED, so they've got workplace skills and prospects. and welfare is limited and conditional. but it's all irrelevant now that there are only twenty two convicts left in the world, and only because they're stupid enough to steal cars in an age where alarms and gps are standard. recidivism is a bitch for those poor grand theft auto kids. crime is so low, in fact, that there's an emerging trend in which all locksmiths and lock manufacturers are getting laid off. it's troubling and something the thirty four thousand labor lawyers currently practicing will have to look into.

wal-mart went out of business two years ago and none of us noticed. with the global push for farmers markets and small business, the big chains are a thing of the past. farmers in nebraska earn as fair a living as lobstermen in maine. it's all subsidized and honest, fair trade.

the world's just so much better.

and we're all so much happier.

but not really.

i close my eyes and i miss the smog of la. it made me appreciate the beauty of this place.

i close my eyes and i miss the disgusting, fat-providing fast food on every street corner. it made me appreciate the independent cafes and creativity and ethics of great, rare restaurants.

i close my eyes and i miss the hilarity of impotence-pill commercials and hair loss creams. it made me appreciate how blessed i am to be young and healthy and virile.

i close my eyes and i miss the politics behind government. it made me appreciate the sometimes awkward, just kind of present balance between both sides of the aisle.

i close my eyes and i miss everything. the freedoms.

the freedom to rise. the freedom to fall.

the freedom to be right and good and true. the freedom to put yourself first and be right and good to and for you and what you want.

if everything's solved, what's left to fight for?

i open my eyes and i'm back in reality. i'm 24 years old. and i've got all the opportunity and promise ahead of me as i did when i was a kid. just a little less time to figure it out.

i'm alive and AWAKE and right. now.

and that's enough for me.

the suicide catcher

there's an article in this month's gq that profiles the yangtze river bridge in china and the high number of suicides committed by jumping from it each year.

it's in the thousands.

but then there's other number.

one.

one man.

the suicide catcher.

he stands and watches and waits.

when he sees someone about to take the leap, he pulls them back.

he brings them back to life.

he's not a cop. he's not employed by the city or state or even some local or global npo.

he's just a guy. and he's saved hundreds.

i promised myself i would make a difference this summer, if for no other reason than to show myself i still can.

i'm still trying to find my place and i know i will. but it might not be in the place you or i ever thought it would. i'm breaking down the doors and walls and tearing up every boundary i've ever set for myself.

i'm going to do this and i'm going it alone.

i'm on fire.

sunshine

"it takes eight minutes for light to travel from the sun to the earth.

all you have to do is look out for a little extra brightness in the sky. if you wake up one morning and it's a particularly beautiful day, you'll know we made it."

last night, out of nowhere, the clouds came in. the wind blew fast and angry. the rain started and never stopped. le déluge.

this morning, i was convinced it would be a shitty day. the clouds were hanging out to taunt us as we woke. the ground was soaked with water and mud and debris. the sun was just gone.

then it changed.

ten minutes ago, the breeze warms a bit, enough to notice and appreciate. the grass and trees green up and move, alive again. the sun comes out.

it's a tragic oversimplification to think of this as mere weather. i swear there's just so much more to it.

it's times like this that remind me of how lucky we all are. of how blessed i am. i'm alive. and you. and we get to enjoy it.

the thoughts sparked with conversations over tea and hot chocolate in the bay area with nareen and stephanie. thoughts and curious hypotheticals. if animals can think and know and love, can they then appreciate the beauty and wonder in the world that we see around us?

years later.

i'm in burlington.

it's not hypotheticals over coffee or tea anymore. i know it.

i look outside and i know it. you do when you see it.

in any part of the world, with any faith or culture, there's more to this morning than weather. it's more than a season.

you're walking down the street and the breeze picks up, just teases the hairs on your skin and cools your neck, beats against you in rhythm in step. the sun shines down and warms you in a way that feels like home.

there's more to this world than weather and seasons. there's more to it than the details we so often get wrapped up in. a tragic oversimplification.

the best parts of this world are in the subtle nuances, the insignificant things we don't care enough to notice.

take a walk. and open your eyes.

i'm alive. you're alive. and the world is around you, too.

there's just more to it.

absolution

how did i get here?

i realized today, only a bit ago, just how much my life has changed in the past year. i dig it.

i traded suits and ties for jeans and sambas.

i traded martinis and sushi for microbrews and subway.

midnight walks in the malibu sands and the california sun for lake champlain and random snowy nights in may.

smiles through teeth and an endless pretension for ugly and true and humble.

i traded the fast life in to slow it all down.

i dig it.

i never realized how different everything was until this afternoon. i see this young guy in a suit who reminds me of me and, for the first time, i don't miss it.

i don't need to have everyone tell me i'm successful and on the right path to know i am. the difference is so much more. i feel it.

and it makes no sense, trading in everything for nothing and on a whim. but it was so much easier, i think, because it was so much worse.

i didn't recognize the face i saw in the mirror. i hated my life and everything about the man i had become. i hated the city. i hated the people. i hated myself. i hit rock bottom.

i'll never forget what my father told me when i called him from a friend's couch on some random and otherwise entirely nondescript morning. "pick yourself up and i'll carry you."

the past year has been hard. i've met a lot of people and been in a lot of situations, some circumstantial, some deliberate, chosen. i've had a lot of reasons to keep looking back and tell myself to give in. just go home. go back.

for better, for worse, i stood my ground. i picked myself up. and maybe someone else did the heavy lifting from there. but i did it. i'm alive. and i choose.

i choose to live a better life.

i choose to put others and this world before myself. to keep humble and selfless.

i choose to love and just give in to it. i'm all in and in love and more committed than i've ever allowed myself to be.

i choose to lose myself in this novel, to keep writing until my fingers bleed from the tension and keep as honest and relative as i can. i will share this story and hope and love.

i choose to get back to being as ethical as possible in all things, small and big. in every decision. in every moment.

i choose to become my father's son again.

i choose to get back.

i'm home.

and i'm on fire.

watch me.

match book

you only get so many chances in and at life.

my heart is on her eight of nine.

but this is a good one.

kelley and i were outside all morning throwing the football around and working on some softball mechanics for the summer league we joined. and it. just. clicked.

that i'll never know or fully appreciate just how blessed i am.

"you can't go home again." we've all heard and bought into it.

but wolfe was wrong.

i'm here. and i swear i'm reborn every time i am.