Mad Men is one of the best television shows to ever be shown. Every episode is one that some person, at some point, can relate to. Anyone who has watched the series finds one of the characters that they latch on to, and find themselves invested in. What does that say about me? ——————————————————————————————————————————————– Donald Draper is smooth as silk, to say the least. His words are stern, yet comforting; he is aggressive, yet passive; his entire life is a lie. The show is based around both his personal and business life, which – more often than not – seem to intertwine. He is a devoted family man, yet a frequent philanderer. He looks for anything, yet he is aware that he has everything at home. Too many traits that Don Draper exhibits are traits that I can find in myself, yet there is only one person that I continually relate to. Roger Sterling. Roger Sterling can’t help himself. He loves his daughter, values his wife, and knows that he should be….appropriate. But Joan Halloway is his kryptonite; a brunette call-girl is his weakness. He knows the difference between right and wrong, yet he can’t seem to adjust his sights so that they match up with his heart. And the more episodes of the show I watch, the more I find Roger Sterling to be the one character at Sterling-Cooper that I can’t escape. ——————————————————————————————————————————————— We all have that ‘one’. The one person that we can’t escape. No matter who we fall in love with, or who we end up with……we always reminisce. The downfall of humanity is our own minds. ‘What if?’ is the most dangerous question in the world; Roger Sterling always asks himself (sub-consciously) “What if I met Joan Halloway before I was married?” I realize that I ask more “What If?” questions than I have answers to. I have tried to figure out the reason for this, and then I realized: I don’t have the answer because I don’t WANT an answer. An answer equates to finality; if I don’t have an answer, then I could always make up a different ending, no matter how many times I replay the situation. An answer means the end. I would rather have the means. ———————————————————————————————————————————————- In every scene of Mad Men, someone is either drinking or smoking. It is supposed to show a commonality between the characters; a uniformity between anyone who lived in the 1960′s. But the more I watch, the more I see that the drinking and smoking is exactly how it is currently…..it’s a crutch. Employing an outside interference to mask an interior insecurity. We all do it. For the cast of Mad Men, its alcohol and tobacco. What is it for us? What is it for me? Blogging? By the time we (I) figure it out, it may be too late. Roger Sterling had two heart attacks…..yet, to this day (in the series) he smokes at least a pack a day and cohorts with women that he knows should be forbidden to him. He and I are the same only because we know what is best for us, yet we still do what is best for our image.
...Quiet as a lion's roar
I'm a dreamer.
A pessimistic optimist
And I am f'n awesome
This is just food for thought..you do the dishes
-
2012-01-28
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2012-01-18
She asked me yesterday if I missed you.
I didn’t know how to answer.
————————————————————————
Today, I put on my iPod while I was working out, and put it on shuffle. For some reason, every song made me think about you. My heart still hurts. They say that time heals all wounds, but how do you heal a wound that seems to be ripped open again every single day?
I pretend like everything is good; as if life has moved on without you. But whenever I have too much time to myself, I realize that I’m nothing if not lonely. I am lonely without you. I hate you. I love you. I can’t live without you. It’s not possible for me to live with you. So many problems, but never any answers. So many contradictions. My heart hurts. My eyes cry. My mouth smiles.
I just want you to acknowledge me. Tell me that you were thinking of me. Give me a reason to remember what it felt like to be happy. Remind me of that brief moment in time where I felt like if the world would end the next day, I could die a happy man because I had you in my life.
You are my Hurricane of Love. You came, blew everything off of its foundation, and left just as fast, leaving nothing but destruction and pain. But I would build it all back up again, if only I could have you blow into my life again. Destroy me again, so I could be happy once more. I beg of you.
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2012-01-11
Tweeting Into Oblivion
I am going to attempt to speak in complete sentences and express whole thoughts in this blog. It is going to be hard, but I am going to do the best that I can.
Twitter has taken over the world.
We live in a hashtag-happy society. It seems as though anywhere we turn, we are bombarded with images of that damn blue bird or lowercase ‘t’. Go to your favorite restaurant, and you will see a sign (or sometimes a whiteboard) that says “Tweet Us!” Turn on the television, and every show is telling you that you can now find them on Twitter. It is everywhere. Hell, even once I post this blog, a link of it will be added to my Twitter account.
Last night, I was watching a basketball game on NBA TV, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. Every Tuesday night, NBA TV has what the call ‘Fan Night’, where the fans get to choose which two basketball games that are being played that night are shown on the network. Previously, the fans would need to visit www.nba.com to cast their votes; last night, I noticed something different. In the top right corner of the screen, in white lettering, was #FANNIGHT. Fans could now vote via Twitter! On Storage Wars (on A&E Network), they had a scroll on the top of the screen, displaying tweets from various watchers of the show, along with the hashtag #STORAGEWARS. Inside the NBA (on TNT) constantly shows tweets from fans and athletes during the pre-game, halftime, and post-game shows. It is hard to escape.
The most egregious, shameless self-promoting use of Twitter that I have witnessed, however, has to be every Monday night, when I (a grown man) watch WWE Monday Night Raw. The phrases ‘Twitter’, ‘Trending Worldwide’, and ‘Hashtag’ have become as much of the pro wrestling lexicon as ‘suplex’ and ‘bodyslam’. The WWE, for the most part, shied away from the social media outlets, sticking mostly to their own website (www.wwe.com) to relay news to the fans. It wasn’t until the summer of 2011, when the wrestling company noticed how many of their stars (notably CM Punk and Zack Ryder) were becoming huge stars OUTSIDE of the wrestling ring (Ryder, however, was mostly known for his YouTube clips, and crowning himself the “Internet World Champion”). Once it was seen that there was a medium where large numbers of people could communicate (or attempt to) with their favorite wrestler, Twitter become almost a necessity for the organization. Now, starting each episode, we see ‘#WWE #RAW’ flash at the bottom of our screen. When the wrestlers come to the ring, along with seeing their names, we get their Twitter handles (ex. ‘CM Punk’, then below it ‘@CMPunk’). Whenever something that is said or done during the show that registers on the Twitter richter scale, we are made aware by either the annoying Michael Cole, or a popup on the screen saying that it is trending.
Initially, seeing Twitter everywhere started to upset me. Why is it that, whenever I am trying to enjoying something, Twitter shows up? Why can’t I just enjoy one of my favorite TV shows without coming across some emblem of the website? How is it possible that Twitter has surpassed Facebook as being the social media outlet that is brought up the most in casual encounters? I didn’t have an answer for any of those questions. And I still don’t…..
…..But I do have the answer to another question: Why has Twitter become so damn popular?! Why do we care about what someone is thinking 24/7? When, before Twitter, did you ever find yourself pondering “I wonder what (insert celebrity A) thinks about (insert celebrity B) and their current breakdown?” And if you did, isn’t that what gossip rags such as US Weekly and Entertainment Weekly were for? The answer to these questions is much simpler than the ones posed above. The answer is this: our attention spans can no longer handle an entire magazine full of information. As a society, we are unable to process anything that is more than 140 characters. We are a ‘satisfy me now’ society; if the information does not come easily, we no longer value it. We want to be spoon fed as opposed to cut our own meat. Twitter allows us to put out short bursts of information, hoping that SOMEONE will come across our thoughts, agree with them, and then follow us. We try so hard to get our point across in 140 characters or less, and that has spilled out into our normal lives. When was the last time you had a conversation of substance with someone face to face, that wasn’t work related?
To be honest, I am a victim of this as much as anyone else. I initially joined Twitter back in 2009, but didn’t start to use it frequently until early 2010. Since then, I have tweeted almost daily, and I have noticed that my ability to converse in my everyday life has regressed almost to nothing. I find myself ‘LOL-ing’ when I don’t have anything to say in response to the person I am talking to; I speak in short sentences, rarely allowing myself to expand my point of view when speaking face to face. And this bothers me.
Every generation has left some sort of calling card by which they will be remembered. Every person who was a part of that generation will forever be associated with said calling card. We are now a week and a half into 2012. What can we do to avoid our calling card being “The 140 Character Generation”?
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2011-10-17
Patrick Bateman….you are my hero. Even more so after reading the book. Let’s go to dinner at Dorsia in 2013, yea?
(via palahniukandchocolate)
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2011-08-15
I fucking hate the word “Swag”. And it’s always overly used by the lamest motherfuckas who can’t think of anything else to say.
PREACH.
Doesn’t “Swag” mean “Stuff We All Get”? So if we all get it, what makes you think I give a shit about yours??
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2011-08-02
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]Just when I think that I forgot you….
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2011-08-01
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.] -
2011-05-05
Had a Dream I Said….
She was absolutely stunning.
The moment I laid eyes on her, I was mesmerized. She had this…glow about her. The second she entered the room, I felt a wave of calm envelope me. She was an unfamiliar face that was inviting all comers; she seemed to welcome the attention, but not crave it. The entire room was captivated by her every move. The simplicity in which she walked; the grace that she exhibited as she brushed her hair behind her ear. She was the kind of woman that every man desired, yet never knew how to put her in words.
Standing five foot seven, with hair that sat lightly in between her shoulder blades, she was a sight to see. I found myself going through my mental checklist of all the things I had envisioned my perfect woman to have, and because of her beauty I ended up adding a few more qualifications that must be met. Intoxicating smile? Check. Statuesque frame? Check. Flawless skin? Ditto.
Trying not to stare, I found that I could not take my eyes off of her. I found a way to move myself closer to where she stood: she was entertaining a group of people by telling them how she got lost on her way to this event. Her voice was smooth and soft, almost hypnotic. When she laughed, it had such earnestness to it that it made you long to say something witty, just to hear it again. I noticed that she placed her hand in a nonchalant manner on the shoulder of a man who was standing next to her as she laughed, and he became flustered. His face flushed, and you can see beads of nervous sweat start to form on his brow. She was oblivious to all of it. To her, that night was just another night for her to go out and enjoy herself. To those of us in her presence, it was a chance to witness the closest definition of perfection possible in a human form.
As I got closer to her, the brightness of her eyes intrigued me. The whites where not the normal whites that you and I have. There were no flaws or imperfections. The whites of her eyes stood out the way a strike of lightening stands out against the backdrop of a black, moonless sky. I noticed in the time that I was looking at her, I had forgotten that I was holding a glass of ginger ale, and the warmth that she exuded seemed to have entered my hands, causing the drink to go from ice cold to room temperature, all within the 5 minutes since she entered my life.
In my mind, I started conjuring up images of us twenty years in the future: in our home, speaking with our child about what colleges she plans to apply for; in our bedroom, recapping the events of our respective day. I pictured us making love, and when we finished, me being brought to tears at the fact that I have not only the most beautiful woman in the world at my side, but also by the fact that the most beautiful woman in the world was in love with me. If there truly is a Heaven, it would be hard-pressed to match up to the visions I had of us.
I listened more to the conversations that she held with this circle of people, and it occurred to me that not only did she possess an endless supply of beauty, but she was intelligent as well. When the conversation turned to politics, she quickly held her own, making points with ease that the others in the group found themselves struggling to comprehend. When the conversation quickly moved to the economy, she seamlessly adjusted to the topic, with no difficulty at all.
While she was listening to someone try and make their point on some topic that I did not care about, she quickly glanced around the room. As she turned to my direction, our eyes locked, and for the briefest moment I was paralyzed. She flashed a large smile at me, and I noticed the same beads of nervous sweat forming on my brow as the gentlemen who was lucky enough to experience her touch. I turned my eyes away from her, afraid of the image I must be giving to her: some lonely guy who is staring at her, while listening to her conversation without adding anything to it. But when I looked back in her direction, she was still confidently smiling at me. I could feel my heart racing at 100 beats per minute. Suddenly my mouth became dry, and I tried to sip the warm ginger ale, but it was like trying to drink sand. As much as I wanted a chance to get to know her, I instantly wanted her to turn away from me, to forget that I was even there. I wished that I could fade into the background – become a face that blended in with the scenery. The intricate simplicity of her beauty (she wore little make up, almost no jewelry save for the simple diamond stud earrings that seemed to be the only objects in the room that could remotely compare to the sensation that was her smile) scared me. The only reason someone like her would even notice someone like me HAD to be because something in me alerted her sense of worry. I immediately felt stupid at the fact that I had maneuvered my way near her, yet I couldn’t pull myself away. It was if she was the strongest magnet the world had ever seen, and I was a measly nickel, powerless in my attempts to resist her. I was stuck.
As she excused herself from the group, she seemed to float from one social group to the next, and upon her arrival the group all of a sudden seemed alive. She would mingle for a minute or two, then move on to the next, taking that energy she brought with her. It was like watching a stagnant town as it gets hit with a tornado of beauty, then return back to its stagnant life as soon as the twister ended. No matter how brief the interaction was, whomever she came across would never be the same once she was gone. For the rest of their lives, when someone mentions beauty, she would be what they equated as the definition.
I stood near the bar now, participating in light hearted banter with a friend of mine. I noticed that my friend had quickly stopped paying attention to our conversation, and it seemed as if they were staring directly through me. This did not bother me; the conversation we were having wasn’t the most intriguing. I went grabbed my ginger ale (a new glass at this point) and went to take a sip, when I heard that soft, smooth voice, almost like it was in my ear. The voice asked the bartender for a glass of water with a slice of lemon dipped in sugar on the side. I was frozen in my tracks. I felt my muscles tense, and I couldn’t speak. In my mind I was wishing that I could become the world’s greatest magician, just so I could make myself disappear.
Behind me, I could hear a soft chuckle, and I knew that she could sense my awkwardness. In her soft voice, she said jokingly, “Don’t worry, I don’t bite…hard.” I still couldn’t bring myself to turn and face her. I was afraid that her beauty would cause me to react in a childish way, so I continued to keep my back to her, as if that was the adult thing to do. She placed her hand on my shoulder lightly, and again I felt that wave of calm rush over me. “You know, its not against the law for you to turn around, and possibly have a conversation with me,” she said. “I’ve seen you glance at me a couple times tonight. Is there something that you want to say to me?”
Slowly, I turned around, and our eyes locked once again. In my mind, there were myriad of things that I wanted to say, yet none of them could find the path to my mouth to be spoken. I felt a nervous smile spread across my face, and instinctively my eyes shot to the top of my shoes. Her hand never left my shoulder, and it was then that I noticed the scent of her skin: it was lilac. Quickly I imagined us together in an open field, just walking. No words are being exchanged, and no one else is there with us; it was just us, enjoying each other’s company. Suddenly speaking didn’t seem so hard.
Confidently, I brought my head back up, so that my gaze could meet hers. I grabbed her hand from my shoulder, squeezed it between my two hands, and suddenly that nervous smile became one of assurance. I began to speak. “Well, I….”
It was all over. As quickly as it began, the moment was over. Confused, I looked around, only to find that it was all a dream. I was in my bedroom, clutching my pillow, awakened by the sound of my morning alarm buzzing in my ear. She was just a dream. The entire moment was all a figment of my imagination.
I lay there, motionless for five minutes, before finally willing myself out of bed. The disappointment was intense, but the curiosity reigned supreme. What was I going to tell her? Who was she? What was her name? Why did she feel the need to speak to me, as opposed to the other people there that night?
As I prepared myself for my day, I got the answer to each of the questions I had asked myself. The answer was simple….painful. I would never know.
-
2011-03-31
Workplace Fuckery
Love is an illusion
That over time, everyone chooses
To believe in with vigor
But in the end, there are only losers
I tried giving my heart to you
But the ends didn’t justify the means
Maybe it was for the best
Because for you I was willing
To sacrifice my very being
Beautiful sunsets, long walks in the park?
How about a fractured reality?
Nights were cold; days are stark
Looking in the mirror I now see a different version
Of who I used to be
Who is this person?
Eyes sunken in, my expression frequently grim
A dark cloud envelopes my face
I can no longer feel; this depression deepens
At the end of the tunnel they say there’s a light
For me its a needle in the proverbial stack of hay
People try to engage me in conversation
And though my heart screams, my mouth lacks the words to say
I saw a rose in the ground struggling today
Fight to reach for the sky
To most, this would be a beautiful sight; my only thought was
Why?
When it seems you are so close to your goal
Suddenly the moon appears; off in the distance and bright
Almost like its mocking your efforts
Why are we so insistent to fight?
Its not as if I could give up; there’s nothing left for me
To let go
So instead I wander throughout my days
Feigning interest, garnering false hope
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2011-03-14
Cravings
These cravings are getting stronger
I no longer have control of my actions
My desire for you is getting out of hand
It has become more than just a simple attraction
One opportunity, that’s all that I would need
One chance for me to gain your affection
So often I’ve chased the wrong kind of person
But I know you are my hearts reflection
My arms are empty; my eyes are searching
Scanning for a beauty only you possess
Each day I feel I’m getting closer to you
But when Im alone, I feel that all I’ve done is regress
Like drops of rain that fall in the ocean
I’m insignificant in the storm that is ‘you’
Yet still, I long to be caught in your wrath
No matter how much of me I stand to lose
Previously I fooled myself into thinking I was living
But I realize now I was biding my time
Before my thoughts would wander aimlessly
Now you’re the singular focus of my mind
For you to acknowledge me will no longer suffice
I want the beating of our hearts to align
I want you to feel that no one else in the world matters
I want you to crave to be mine….
