34 years

March 7th, 2017

In February of this year I turned 34 years old. I think I’m not the only one who hopes this is only the first third of my life. I know my dog wants me around longer to take him out and around the block. He’s currently protesting my prolonged placement in front of my laptop by holding a vigil beside the front door. Sometimes I wonder if maybe he really wants me dead…

I remember when I left Idaho for flight school in 2005 and I thought I would be the oldest new pilot there. I was 22 years young but I felt like I had a whole lifetime of experience behind me already. I couldn’t convince my young fiancé to make the trek across the country to Florida to join me in my new life as an aviation student. I had worked a few different jobs as an IT professional and even been laid off. I wrecked my first car my parents gave me, I bought another car that quickly broke down and sat sheltered, and then I wasted even more money on a car I bought on the internet.

Before any of that I made the wise decision to quit high school early because I failed to earn enough credits to graduate. Sometimes, when I tell this story I blame my friends but the reality is I hated high school. I didn’t fit in, there wasn’t a group I felt like I belonged to, and there was almost no place I felt comfortable. I enjoyed working on computers and building computers and playing with computers and that’s what sort of propelled me out of high school. My group of friends were very tech-savvy and they inspired me to be more like them. I wanted to be as smart as them. I wanted to be as cool as them.

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December 24th, 2015

Write more. 

It's good for you. It's therapuetic. It's a process that requires brain power and creativity. It's something that can be enjoyable and frustrating and invigorating and exhausting and other verbs. It's a far better way to spend time freely as it provides a view in retrospect. It's hard to look back over a few hours of watching TV or surfing the web with anything other than regret.

Write more.

You want to. It's something you've always said "one day" while smiling just thinking about it. Imagine all that writing I'll do one day. One day is today. It's here. It's now. Like putting feet to pavement, put fingers to keys. Eat that elephant.

Write more.

Practice makes perfect. I wasn't writing sonnets and soliliquies as a toddler and I probably won't be Stephen King anytime soon. Between today and perfect is a long road of revisions and strike outs and underlines. Don't reach for perfect, reach for achieving perfection knowing perfection is only an idea. It doesn't exist. What does exist is some really great writing done in an effort to be perfect.

Write more.

There are so many ideas and thoughts and words worthy of writing down. You have to simply put words to paper. Bleed them into life via a .doc and let it live. It's possible nobody will ever read it but the words will exist and that's all it needs to be alive and real.

Write more.