Sunday, November 29, 2009


This is a paper I wrote for a freshman english class at TJC a few years ago. It talks about a dear friend that passed away in high school. Today it has been 5 years since he left us. Thought it was appropriate to share. We miss you Scott. RIP.

You Dropped Your Pocket

Looking back, I remember the cool summer nights we stayed up until one in the morning playing basketball for hours under the dim orange street lights. Even as first graders, these so-called friendly games to ten became relentlessly brutal, noone wanting to give in and lose to the other. He beat me almost everytime, but the one game I beat him drove him crazy, and we always played one more to satisfy him.

“Come on lets play again, you got lucky.”

Monday, November 29, 2004. I still feel the cold rain drenching my clothes and the freezing wind cutting through me like a knife on the day that changed not only my life but the lives of many of my classmates. Soccer practice lasted late that day and as we scrimmaged I saw three of my closest friends walking through the rain up towards the field. I thought nothing of it and continued to play, assuming they came to watch the end of practice. I soon realized noone came to watch an unimportant soccer practice on such a cold and wet day as this. I saw some of the other senior soccer players walking off as coach called them over to my friends, and I instinctively followed. As I walked nearer, I realized the gravity of the situation. My friends eyes streamed wet, and not from the rain. The tears contagiously passed from one person to the next until they finally reached me and I heard the news. One of my best friends Chance broke the news to me.

“Scott just died in a car crash.”

I grew up with Scott Everett Baker. Since first grade we played basketball and baseball together, shared classes, and spent the night at each other’s houses. Even though in high school we hung out a lot less, we still remained friends. Scott epitomized the class clown, always making jokes no matter what the situation. If someone walked into the school not knowing him, they instantly stereotyped him as the popular one just by looking at him. The guys all wanted his friendship, and the girls all wanted to date him.

Speechless, I fell to my knees. “How could this happen?” I thought. As we walked down to the parking lot, we saw dozens of students standing in the rain, even though school let out almost two hours before, embracing each other as they cried. Eventually the principal allowed us to sit in the cafeteria before finally everyone began to go home. The state of shock seen in everyone’s eyes told the story. Scott, always the daredevil, trying to pass a friend on a narrow slick road, turned his truck over and crashed it into a tree. He died instantly, and life for many changed permanently.

Sadly, growing up in that town, tragedy became common. In four years of high school, five people close to me died. But none effected me like Scott’s death. Of all the people, noone imagined this happening to him. The way he made people laugh, the smile he always wore, things that people never realized they took for granted before instantly became missed. It rained the entire week, and postponed classes became common, as counselors came and talked to us repeatedly. Everyone took the loss very hard, even teachers and administrators who knew Scott showed signs of deep sadness. As much as a trouble maker he sometimes seemed, he became loved by just about everyone who knew him.

The day of the funeral, the first sunny day in weeks, held mixed emotions for many people. As much as it hurt that Scott died, the day felt more like a day of celebration. At the funeral everyone shared stories about how Scott made them laugh, made them smile on a bad day, and everyone agreed his soul now resided in a much better place. I never cried and laughed so closely together as much as at Scott’s funeral. Noone felt guilty for smiling and laughing at his funeral, everyone knew Scott wanted it that way. Someone talked about how Scott use to run up to people in the hallway and make them believe they dropped their pocket. Everyone laughed and remembered the funny times about Scott. The most memorable moment of the funeral, however, came when his uncle stood up to speak. He told Scott’s two brothers to stand up, and said words that ring in my ears to this day.

“I don’t know if I ever told Scott I loved him and its going to haunt me for the rest of my life, but I want you boys to know that I love you. I love you Scott.”

Scott achieved something for our senior class unlike anyone else, unity. He brought the seniors of 2005 together. Everyone told stories about Scott because he touched everyone’s lives in someway. Less than a week after Scott’s death, our school held its annual winter formal. All the seniors wore sweat bands, bracelets, and pink in memory of Scott. Scott always wore a sweat band, and planned on wearing a pink tuxedo to formal that year. Although the dance missed one important thing, him, we still felt him there with us. We danced all night long, and dedicated songs to him.

The loss of Scott showed a lot of things to a lot of people. The words his uncle spoke at the funeral are what will remain with me for the rest of my life. I no longer take life for granted, and realize just how precious it is. If I love someone, I tell them. Scott’s life ending so suddenly taught me not to hold back. Scott lived like that, and his death helped many to live like that as well. I miss Scott and always will, but I will never forget him and the lessons I learned from him.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Control Your Version

There are people you should have walked away from. When people walk away from you, it's because they gave up. Trying isn't the problem, quitting is. It is because they don't deserve you in their lives. It is because...

"The unreal is more powerful than the real. Because nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it. Because its only intangible ideas, concepts, beliefs, fantasies that last. Stone crumbles. Wood rots. People, well, they die. But things as fragile as a thought, a dream, a legend, they can go on and on. If you can change the way people think. The way they see themselves. The way they see the world. You can change the way people live their lives. That's the only lasting thing you can create."
-Chuck Palahniuk

I'm not saying that you can't become someone else in the future, but who you are now has everything to do with the people who have been in your life and helped you become the person you are. Completely abandoning the people that loved you and were there for you doesn't make you strong. It makes you weak. It means you gave up the challenge. That you cared about yourself more than you did them. That the only thing that you care about is you is you. Fighting for the things you believe in and care about isn't something to be criticized or looked down upon, it's something to be respected and appreciated. People who gave up, who quit, never got anywhere. It was the people who were persistent, who wouldn't take no for an answer, that have changed the world. There is a difference between accepting something is over and fighting for something you believe isn't. I believe in goodbye, but I don't believe in shutting people out of my life who have influenced it positively and have done nothing to deserve not being in my life. If you love something, love it with all you have. Don't hold back. Don't guard yourself from feelings that you are afraid of having or showing. If you have something in the past that didn't work out the way you wanted to, don't let it affect your future. Learn from it, but never forget it. Sure, you can't make everyone feel the way you do about them. I'm very aware of that, but being persecuted for trying is almost like saying you shouldn't ever try in a relationship (rather it be with someone of the opposite sex, your family, even spiritually). And that just isn't how things work. Relationships (all of them) take work. Take effort. Take commitment. Take courage. Take patience. Take time.

"Hypocrisy and distortion are passing currents under the name of religion"


“People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that's bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they're afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they're wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio."
-Jim Morrison

"You realize that our mistrust of the future makes it hard to give up the past."
-Chuck Palahniuk

It's not always about moving on, or letting go, or finding peace. It's about understanding what is real. It's about figuring out not only who you are, but who you were, and most importantly... who you want to be. It's about making realistic decisions about YOUR life, and not letting outside influences affect who YOU are as a person. Sure I'm a realist, and even most times skeptical about a lot of things, but it is better than being an idealistic hypocrite with no grasp of who I am or what I want. People get lost trying to find themselves, everyday people are making hypocrites out of themselves by pretending to be people they aren't, or trying to follow some movement or fad because other people are encouraging them to. Life is a journey, an individual, unique adventure that should be different with everyone.

"In a world where billions believe their deity conceived a mortal child with a virgin human, it's stunning how little imagination most people display. "
-Chuck Palahniuk

Sure there are religions out there, and I completely respect what most of these things are trying to preach, but they are meant to teach us morals, right from wrong, not a detailed instruction on how to live your life. It's not about being "religious", it's about being spiritual. Finding your own way, your own "godliness" on Earth. People shouldn't be afraid of going to Hell, they should want to find their own calm and tranquility while still on Earth. Scare tactics in religion are what have caused most of the wars in human history. Why can't people understand that whatever it was that caused us to be here, didn't want us to all be alike. How else do you explain so much diversity in the universe. The Bible was written by men, and should be used as a guide, not a rulebook. Otherwise we'd still be smearing lambs blood over our doors during the passover.

"No matter how careful you are, there's going to be the sense you missed something, the collapsed feeling under your skin that you didn't experience it all. There's that fallen heart feeling that you rushed right through the moments where you should've been paying attention. Well, get used to that feeling. That's how your whole life will feel some day. This is all practice."
-Chuck Palahniuk

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

FML. MLIA. Texts From Last Night.

I always get a good laugh from going to websites like,, & So with those in mind, I thought I'd start sharing some funny true moments from my own life that could easily go on websites such as these. This will be the first of many. Enjoy.

This weekend in Dallas I went to the OU/Texas game in Dallas. I went to the Widespread Panic & Allman brothers concert Friday night with my dad first, stayed at my sister's afterwards, and got up at 7am Saturday to meet up with some friends at their hotel and go to the game with them. I started drinking whiskey and coke when I got there around 8, and we decided to take the Dallas Area Rapid Transit (DART) train from Garland to Fair park to go to the game rather than driving and parking etc. We got on the train around 9:15 (the game started at 11) and proceeded to head towards downtown. Now remind you I had finished 2 whiskey drinks already by this point and made a third to take on the train with me (in a to go cup of course). The train ride started off nicely, not very crowded, a few OU fans I could talk smack to, a lot of good friends and good laughs, and good whiskey.

When we got downtown we had to switch trains from a blue line to a green line to get to Fair Park and the Cotton Bowl. I had finished my third whiskey by this time, and suddenly had the urge to use the bathroom. Looking at the map on the train, I saw that we were merely 3 miles from Fair park, so I decided to just tough it out and get on the green line and try my best to hold it. This was about 9:45. Around 10 I realized that I was going to need to find somewhere to release the whiskey inside of me or else I was going to cause long term damage. A friend with us had met her parents at the train station (they were from Dallas) and thats when her dad informed me that the train had to go down to American Airlines center and turn around before it started heading towards Fair Park. A little concerned, but also a little buzzed, I said okay I can make it. After 5 or 6 more stops (all with more and more people boarding the train) I realized I was in real trouble. If I got off at any stop I would not be able to get on the train again because it was at absolute capacity, and because so many people had decided to take the ironically named DART, it was becoming overloaded with passengers and slowing down the entire train route. I managed to keep a positive attitude about the situation but I was in significant pain.

After what seemed like days, we managed to be 1 stop away from Fair Park (about 1 mile from the entrance to the state fair and the Cotton Bowl). I could no longer tolerate the situation and had to exit the train. This was at 11:30. Mind you the game started at 11, we got on the train at 9, and I had been drinking since 8. I found the nearest Starbucks and just barely made it to the bathroom. Apparently I wasn't the only one having this problem, as someone barged in behind me and proceeded to relieve himself in the sink since there was only one toilet in the facility. With that problem solved, I then had to jog, with a slight buzz, and not a direct idea of just where fair park was, the mile to the game. By the time I finally got into the game, got a coke (to pour more whiskey in from my flask), and got to my seat, the time was now noon and I had missed the entire first quarter save the last 33 seconds. Even after all that I manage to keep my spirits high, have 2 more whiskey and cokes, and watch UT take care of business and beat the Sooners. Happy days right? Wrong. This is where the story really takes a turn for the worse.

After the game, everyone who rode the DART was forced to wait in one of the longest lines I have ever seen in order to board the trains again out front of the fair grounds and take them to other locations. So our group had the bright idea of walking back to the train station I had gotten off at (a mile away for those who forgot) and board the train there. So after gathering everyone up and making the half an hour treck to the Baylor Medical Center Station, we managed to board a train. We knew this train was heading back to Fair Park but assumed since we were already on it that there would be no issues and we would remain in our seats as the other OU and Texas fans boarded. But how wrong we were.

When we arrived at Fair park, we were forced off the train because they were making room for all the fans that had waited in line to board the trains inside the fair. Very tired, pissed off, frustrated, annoyed, etc. We finally managed to get a cab and take it back to our hotel (a 40 dollar cab ride thanks to how far our hotel was from the game) at 7pm. The game had been over since before 4.

So lets recap what we learned from this experience:
1.) Never take Dallas Area Rapid Transit (DART) ever. Under any circumstances.
2.) Drinking with breakfast could and probably will lead to bladder problems later in life.
3.) Trying to outsmart the system only works when the system in place works, which obviously the DART did not.
4.) F My Life and My Life Is Average

Wednesday, October 14, 2009


"When you don't share your problems, you resent hearing the problems of other people."

"This is your life... and it's ending one minute at a time."

So I run away from the truth, trying to escape the reality that is my life. The truth is maybe I am a victim of circtumstance, but that doesn't change the fact that this place is a prison. I feel suffocated by it, knowing that no matter how far away I go I always have to come back. That there is always something anchoring me down here in this sea of settling. The same people, the same parties, the same drama, the same meaningless trite things that allow me to fall into a pit of mediocrity. It's not that I think I am better than anyone else, it's that I think I'm better than myself. That I should be more. That my life has gone down a path I wasn't allowed to choose. To quote Chuck Palahniuk like I did above:

"Drugs or overeating or alcohol or sex, it was all just another way to find peace. To escape what we know. Our education. Our bite of the apple."

Maybe the cynicism is just a cover up to hide my own insecurities, maybe the realism is just a bitter kid from a broken home who has been let down too many times. Maybe I'm too young to know any better. Maybe it's just late and I should go to bed.

"Everything you do shows your hand. Everything is a self-portrait. Everything is a diary."


Some Themes and quotes in the novel CHOKE by Chuck Palahniuk


Why I do this is to put adventure back into people's lives.
Why I do this is to create heroes. Put people to rest.
"Charity" isn't the right word, but it's the first word that comes to mind.
By choking, you become a legend about themselves that these people will cherish and repeat until they die. They'll think they gave you life.
You might be the one good deed, the deathbed memory that justifies their whole existance.

The question is always: So what do you feel like choking on tonight?
The miserable truth is, every night I still have to pick through the telephone directory and find a good place to almost die.
The cry part, where I'm hugged in somebody's arms, gasping and crying, that part just gets easier and easier.
More and more, the hardest part of crying is when I can't stop.


For sure, instead of wanting to believe something different about God's love, the losers I work with want to find salvation through compulsive behaviors.

Every addiction, she said, was just a way to treat this same problem. Drugs or overeating or alcohol or sex, it was all just another way to find peace. To escape what we know. Our education, our bite of the apple.

I admire addicts. In a world where everybody is waiting for some blind, random disaster or some sudden disease, the addict has the comfort of knowing what will most likely wait for him down the road. He's taken some control over his ultimate fate, and his addiction keeps the cause of his death from being a total surprise.


Anymore when I go to visit my mom, I don't even pretend to be myself.
Hell, I don't even pretend to know myself very well.
I am Fred Hastings, the court-appointed public defender.
See also: Mr. Benning, who defended her on the little charge of kidnapping.
See also: Thomas Welton, who plea-bargained her sentence down to six months.

More and more, it feels like I'm doing a really bad impersonation of myself.


Then she turns on the television, some soap opera, you know, real people pretending to be fake people with made-up problems being watched by real people to forget their problems.

It's pathetic how we can't live with the things we can't understand. How we need everything labeled and explained and deconstructed. Even if it's for sure unexplainable. Even god.

After you find out all the things that can go wrong, your life becomes less about living and more about waiting.


I mean, I'm just tired of being wrong all the time just because I'm a guy.
I mean, how many times can everybody tell you that you're the opressive, prejudiced enemy before you give up and become the enemy. I mean, a male chauvinist pig isn't born, he's made, and more and more of them are being made by women.
After long enough, you just roll over and accept the fact that you're a sexist, bigored, insensitive, crude, cretinist cretin. Women are right. You're wrong. You get used to the idea. You live down to expectations.
Even if the shoe doesn't fit, you'll shrink into it.
I mean, in a world without God, aren't mothers the new god? The last sacred unassailable position. Isn't motherhood the perfect magical miracle? But a miracle that's impossile for men.
And maybe men say they're glad not to give birth, all the pain and blood, but really that's just so much sour grapes.
For sure, men can't do anything near as incredible. Upper body strength, abstract thought, phalluses--any advantages men appear to have are pretty token.
You can't even hammer a nail with a phallus. Women are already born so far ahead ability-wise.
The day men can give birth, that's when we can start talking about equal


We can spend our lives letting the world tell us who we are. Sane or insane. Saints or sex addicts. Heros or victims. Letting history tell us how good or bad we are.
Letting our past decide our future.
Or we can decide for ourselves.

Even after all the rushing around, where we've ended up is in the middle of no where in the middle of the night.
And maybe knowing isn't the point.
Where we're standing right now, in the ruins in the dark,
what we are building could be anything.

There are the things people tell you when they won't tell you the truth.

What we say when we can't tell the truth. What anything means anymore, I don't know.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Losing My Blog Virginity

My first blog is actually a note I wrote on Facebook. Just some things I've been dealing with and my personal feelings on certain situations. More to come later. Enjoy:

Lately I've been going through some tough times, and every person you can imagine has been trying to offer different pieces of advice based on their own personal experiences. Well, I appreciate people who care enough to try and help. But this isn't their experience. It's mine. This is my life. And everyone has had things happen to them in their pasts that shaped them differently and teach them to react to certain situations differently. Well my life is no different. I have been through some really difficult things, I have been let down time and time again, but these are my thoughts, beliefs, and I act accordingly based on my life experiences in order to cope whatever way I can. People find comfort in religion, in exercise, work, drugs and alcohol, so many different things to try and numb pain or make it go away. Some of these are better than others, but the point that most people are missing is that sometimes pain is a good thing. Its going through painful times that you learn who you can rely on, how strong you are as a person, and what route your life is suppose to take. Everyone looking in trying to give advice are going through their own set of problems, their lives are completely different from yours. Married people helping friends go through divorce, people who just had a baby helping a friend cope with a death in the family, every circumstance is different. Not saying they can't help, but ultimately they are not you and they are not going through what you are. They have their lives, so you should live yours the way YOU want to. Taking risks and chances are a part of life, and its not about knowing or being sure. Knowing isn't what drives us, what motivates us, it's the journey that is important. It's easy to run away. Especially when you are scared. But sometimes its better not to take the easy way out. I'm not one to preach, or to even try to pretend like I know whats out there in this world and beyond, but the one thing I have found in my short 22 years is that self-reliance is the most important strength anyone can have. Everyone is human, the people you put the most faith and trust into will ultimately let you down. Its a part of life. Its how you choose to react to these situations that define you as a person. That teach you character, and shape you as an individual. Everyone makes mistakes, including me, but ultimately the only thing you can control is your own actions. So many people out there try all the time to control situations that simply are impossible to contain, to do too much, care too much, try too hard, love too deeply. Well I've been guilty of all these things, but I am who I am because of them and I am happy with the person I have been, am, and who I am becoming. Sure I'm skeptical about a lot of things, sometimes a self-proclaimed cynic and for sure a realist, but that doesn't mean I'm not a good person capable of doing selfless things and caring about others more than I do myself. The thing thats important to remember is that the only thing you can control is your own actions. So live in a way that you can look back on and have no regrets. And I have none. I've been myself through every high and low, and that will never change. Being true to yourself is the only way you'll ever get through this crazy life with a little bit of sanity. If there is such a thing.