24th of December

The woods are lovely dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
and miles to go before I sleep…

Stopping by woods on a snowy evening, 
By Robert Frost



A new year is 6 days away and I’m 12 days away from becoming 30. I f living was an achievement so I guess I’d be proud about staying alive for 30 years.

But I’m afraid it’s not quite so, unless it’s the apocalypse and every passing day is a battle of survival which is not exactly the case, but the point is I’m here and so are you.
Wow, two years away from all the familiar things I’ve known and took for granted, two years have taught me what I haven’t learned in 27 years, so what have I learned so far?

I learned to appreciate my parents, you would never know how much protected and supported you are until you hit the road and the protective shield of love and care peals off and away with the distance, it will be replaced eventually by the practical and the expensive lessons life will give you, it will be compensated by some of the people you meet, some will care for you, some will love you, and some will profoundly hate you and do everything in their powers to bring you down, either way you will learn and your skin will thicken, but no matter the compensation, no matter the replacement, no one will ever spend their lives building yours, it’s a one time deal, don’t waste it, don’t take it for granted because it ends much faster than you think.

I learned to appreciate my friends, although I haven’t because I was busy building a life, and this life is still far from taking shape or form, but it’s some structure so far, very few foundations, but in the process I forgot and I drifted away till I reached the point where I believe rebuilding the burnt bridges is very hard if not impossible, trust is like a match, once lit you can never reignite it.

I learned the value of money, two years ago I used to live a hippie like life because I was born in privilege, but things changed and the money I earn is the only income I have, no interest revenues every month from the bank so, no work, no roof over my head.
I know it’s a no brainer, but it’s something I only learned very recently, always plan ahead for rainy days and do all you can to be financially safe and independent.

I learned about true love, when you fall head over heals for a woman that you haven’t touched, kissed, you haven’t even met her face to face, but you know that your spirit was created to meet with her’s at some point, you know that what you feel towards her is beyond physical attraction, you realize that it’s the real thing.
I have been with others face to face, in the same place, in the same bed even, but it never felt this way, so another lesson, no matter how far or how fast you run from it, it will smack you and the head when it’s meant to, and if it’s real, probably it will have nothing to do with physical contact, it will be just your soul losing a little bit of it’s restlessness when she’s around, even if you’re just hearing her voice on the phone.

I learned about telling stories, yet I haven’t had the clarity of mind to finish one of my own yet, which brings me to the next point.

So… 30 years old… Now what?

Now I will be as honest as I can be. I hate myself and I want to change, it’s a very long list so I’ll just stick to the main goals for the upcoming years.
I want to be a better person, I hate my fear, hesitation, I don’t like all the negative feelings rattling inside of me all day long, I hate my anger, my weakness, my intolerance, I hate my addictions and I regret all the chances I let go of because of shyness, hollow pride or hesitation, I regret all the time I wasted, hours days and years, I regret all the bridges I burned, I hate my easily irritable nature.

Nothing upsets me more than the fact that I could’ve had more work done but I didn’t because I let my negative thought and feelings take control over me and it brings me to a halt, while if I just pushed a little further I would’ve reached a farther and a much better place in life, always out of time, always out of practice and always regretting it without enough drive or energy to shake myself out of apathy.

This has to change, for I don’t like my place in the wold today and i want to be much better spot where I can climb higher everyday and take those I care for up with me, I am inspired by the charitable acts of a friend of mine and I will start doing that even on a smaller scale, not just for karma, but simply enough, what you spread around and what you surround yourself with reflects on you and your life, so I believe it’s time to break out of the loop, or at least it’s time to try.

This is a long post, with lots of ambitious words and thoughts, while the fact of the matter is I don’t even know where to start from and I know that things will never change over night, so here is a simple plan from a person who’s beaten to a pulp.

Let’s start simple, very simple, I’ll start by smiling more, I’ll try to be more pleasant and I’ll try not to care if I sound or look stupid.

I’ll smoke less and less till I quit.

I need to focus on my stories and new demo reel a little more, so I’ll put in just a bit of work in both, not necessarily both in the same day but I have to start doing that.

Now for the big one, negative thoughts and feelings, what do I do to fight those away and work my way through them to my goals? This is the biggest barrier of all, and I don’t want just a distraction, I need at least a good habit to help push those away, and staying busy sometimes doesn’t just cut it for me. What do I do about those…
I really have to think about this one, but for now, I have to get some sleep, wake up early, make my bed and head to work.


The Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
            Only this and nothing more.”
    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
    Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
    From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
            Nameless here for evermore.
    And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
    “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
            This it is and nothing more.”
    Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
            Darkness there and nothing more.
    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
            Merely this and nothing more.
    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
    “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
      Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
            ’Tis the wind and nothing more!”
    Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
    Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
    But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
            Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
    Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
    Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
            With such name as “Nevermore.”
    But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
    Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
    Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
            Then the bird said “Nevermore.”
    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
            Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”
    But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
    Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
            Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
    On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
    Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
    “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
    Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
    On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
    “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
    Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
    Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
    And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
    And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
            Shall be lifted—nevermore!
By Edgar Allan Poe


Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley

In Memoriam Section L

Be near me when my light is low,
When the blood creeps, and the nerves prick
And tingle; and the heart is sick,
And all the wheels of Being slow.

Be near me when the sensuous frame
Is rack’d with pangs that conquer trust;
And Time, a maniac scattering dust,
And Life, a Fury slinging flame.

Be near me when my faith is dry,
And men the flies of latter spring,
That lay their eggs, and sting and sing
And weave their petty cells and die.

Be near me when I fade away,
To point the term of human strife,
And on the low dark verge of life
The twilight of eternal day.