Unselfish Truth

Lie to me! What is truth other than some sort of disguised weird motivation? Why is the truth so important to hear? Isn’t truth just our perception of the facts? The truth sets us free we are told. Does it set us free to hear it? Or does it encapsulate us in our thoughts wondering why we didn’t know this truth? Does it make others bad for protecting us from certain truths? Why do we think the facts are so important? Do they wake us up to ourselves or push us away from the reality we are trying to create for ourselves. Questions questions! Do we really need to hear answers? Isn’t reality ours to create? Why yes it is! Damn this notion of the truth. And why do others spring this truth on us? Why do we spring the truth onto others? Selfishness I say and no other reason. Spare me your psychoanalysis. I love my reality. Don’t destroy it because of your own guilt. If you really are paying attention to me as you say, do me a favor and lie to me!

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Shinny Things

My brain is not working today. How is that a thing? Every time I try to focus my mind sees a shinny object. I feel locked in thought and I can’t get out yet my mind is blank. It’s like getting owned by a wave wondering when it will spit me out for a small sip of air. You are certain that it will but the panic of not knowing when makes it hard to breath. Why does my brain play possum? I know it’s in there. I know it wants to come out and play. But yet it hides and makes me play guessing games as to what I should be thinking or doing. Who is really in charge of me when my brain is being stubborn? And why is he confused if he is in charge? Why won’t my brain just come back and hang out? It’s like there is a secret handshake that I forget sometimes. Why must it tease me? I’ve been a good boy. Wait, is trying to talk to my own brain weird? And if so, is the fact that it doesn’t respond make it even weirder? Damn weird one way communicating brain. Stop being on strike. Who authorized this leave of absence? Not sure if you know this but you are in my body and you work for me. I guess I can’t fire you though so you win this round. Well played. I’ll just continue to coast until you’re back. Come back brain! Please clock back in so I can continue thinking about stuff.

Art Comes From Within

Someone told me once art comes from within. But once tainted by an objective other that itself it ceases to be art. That’s heavy and somehow pure and simple. Are we all not works of art? And don’t we lose bits of our true selves every time we try to change for someone or something else? I don’t know. I feel deeply connected to myself then something comes along and I feel I need to change or adapt. That has never worked and it has never stopped me from trying over and over again. To what end is some part of me trying to sabotage another part? Isn’t happiness the true goal? Enlightenment maybe? So I must struggle to complete the journey. I must challenge the stubborn side of me every day. Why is it so hard to convince yourself something you know is correct? I don’t know. Who does? And would I believe them? What is enlightenment anyway? How do I achieve something that’s hard to explain. I know someone. Never in her own way. She walks among us, with us but somehow a different light illuminates her path. I long to be near her. Close by to her. I want to share that light. But I’m afraid. Afraid I will fade under it’s glow. Art comes from within. It can never be tainted by an objective. To truly join and stand in her light I must shine just as bright. Just as strong and as brilliant. Art comes from within. Never ever sacrifice. Never let it cease to be.

Inspirational Nonsense

So I’m not much of an inspirational kind of guy but somehow I have friends that want to come to me and tell me their woes and then look for some type of guidance. I’m not really sure why me except maybe I listen and I usually can come up with a relevant story to tell but it happens. Inspiration is a strange thing. For me it comes from pressure. Or when my short comings get pointed out by someone I respect. Some need a tidal wave of these “inspirational quotes” that are offered to us via social media on like a million spots. Although seldom if ever do you see someone successful posting one of these gems which is a little suspect to me. Anyway, now that I am drunk with verbal power from my blog I figure I will tell everyone a little secret that someone told me when I was 17 and boo hoo’n from some oh so very important high school relationship. “Everything works out in the end. And if it hasn’t worked out, it’s not the end.” Now I have lived by this my entire life. At times I get a little to relaxed knowing that the change is coming rather than run and go make it happen but over all good words. Now this “secret” is like the weight loss secret which simple is burn more calories than you take in. Or the financial planning secret of spend less than you make or financial planning for the future of spending much less than you make. As people we somehow don’t like to simplify things. There needs to be some magic pill or mysterious words that right our out of control ship. Which is a curious notion by the way. I think that complexity makes us feel less oblivious and let’s us off the hook for not seeing the obvious. I don’t know but at the end of the day we all seem to be looking for something that we don’t naturally know how to find. That last key to life we think no one told us about that holds all of our happiness and takes away all of our stress. I’m not really sure but I’ll end with this, there was a song lyric that has stuck with me most of my life. Well two actually. The first says ” it’s not having what you want but wanting what you’ve got.” The other, “just because you’re winning don’t mean you’re the lucky one.” Somewhere in these words there is something real. Something special. Turns out I guess I do like inspirational words. Whatever it takes I guess to get our brains firing and thinking in ways we previously thought we couldn’t.

The Tide Always Comes Home

I want to remember youth. Days gone spent by the ocean. But I can’t. Memories have faded like a poster in the sun. The gist is still there but the color and power seem lost. I used to see the ocean as the end of the world. Now it’s where I call home. Was I really so small then or was I able to see the world in a different way? I’m filled with peace and tranquility but angst and urgency at the same time. Why? What am I missing? What have I lost? Where has my youth gone? My sense of fun adventure. I’m so cool these days and so incredibly boring. But yet the waves keep coming in. Unfazed by my years with no idea I’ve changed. Earthquakes happen, gravity happens, the moon happens but the waves keep coming. Strong in their resolve. The ocean is in a constant state of renewal yet somehow it’s always the same and reliable. Maybe that’s why I like it. You can always count on it. I’m envious and struggle to find what I am constant with. My parents seem to have it. So did Clinton and my grandparents. What am I missing? I have all of the ingredients but yet like the ocean, I am in constant renewal mode without the steady reliable tide coming in. Life seems to always be happening around me and my part seems relevant only in retrospect. I seldom feel as if I’m living but always remembering life as a magical ride that I was once on. I want it to be magical in real time. But not with the feeling of being out of control. Earthquakes and the moon be damned! I want to have them all and still roll in like the tide. I see the ships on the horizon. Are they coming or going? Hard to say but they are sailing. That is certain. Not tied up at bay but loose in the ocean with a purpose and direction but with a plan that is constantly changing because of the ocean. Because the earth is constantly moving. But always the tide comes home. Earthquakes and ships be damned. The tide always comes home!

Stars and Bars

Not so long ago I posted my thoughts on a social media page about the Confederate Flag situation. As a Southern man, I saw this flag literally daily some way or another. Now I am not racist nor does that flag make me angry but the gist of my post was how the South lost the war that that flag was representative of and it seemed odd that keeping it around in a government setting was still a thing. There was tons on controversy and ultimately it was put to a vote in South Carolina and the flag came down. Hooray for moving forward. But then things go too far and that is what brings me here today. I have friends, social media friends anyway, in the South that will tell you that the confederate flag is their heritage and they give all of the reasons why they aren’t racist and the world is just too PC. Maybe. Then I have the same set of friends out here on the west coast that say all southerns are a little racist for not seeing that the flag is a symbol of hate. Also Maybe. But here is the problem, The Dukes of Hazzard has been removed from syndication and all of the toys have been pulled from shelves. Now If you are someone that doesn’t care then you just aren’t involved in what is really right and wrong. What does a television show that is free to watch and not watch have to do with anything. Like it or not the Stars and Bars is a part of our history. And if you think no blood was spilled in the name of the Union flag(our current one) then you are mistaken. If you think the civil war was about slavery, you are mistaken. Also If you think the removing toys and a show is acceptable, you are, that’s right, once again mistaken. The problem with something offensive is that it is learned and not inherent. We have been taught to take offense to something rather than learn how to understand what is really going on and move forward. Being “offended” is often as offensive as the thing that is offending you. I was lucky enough to not be taught how to be offended but instead to pay attention to the reality around me and try to find the truth in things without rushing to judgement. I feel as if this is an easy thing to do but again it’s because of how I was reared. I guess what I’m trying to say here is that yes, state or government sponsored symbolism of racist or offensive things are bad. However, subscribing to what I like to call the lowest common denominator theory of making sure no one ever can possibly be offended is equally bad. Passion drives us all and it is a good thing. Hate is bad but passion is good. The difference is subtle sometimes and is usually case by case but it’s there. If you truly are arguing or discussing about right and wrong, you will need to be able to, not only tell the difference, but care about the difference if you are trying to get a resolution.

I’ll end with this if you think my issue with them Duke boys is ridiculous….  You can go right now and buy any number of different Jesus action figures and any sunday morning there are numerous Christian shows. In my opinion these are just as offensive to someone of a different relegion. Why can I buy a Jesus figurine but not Daisy Duke? Why, if I’m not christian would I want this programming messing up my sunday funday? As ridiculous as it seems, what will you do when something you think is harmless is removed because it makes someone of a different background and culture slightly less uncomfortable. We, as a community first and Country second, need to be more acceptable and tolerant of others. Especially if we don’t agree. For that is how we make progress.

Childs Play

I want to live in a fort. One made of card tables and old blankets that smell like the closet. I want to live in play and pretend land away from others as they pollute my purity. My inner child likes playing and imagining. I want to live in a fort with others like me. I want to be a firefighter or an astronaut or Aquaman why not. Someone gets to be them. Why not me? Who says I can’t leap tall buildings in a single bound or cast a web to save people from falling? Physics, logic, impossibility? Poppycock. I don’t believe in “can’t.” I don’t believe in impossibility. Only in my imagination. I want to live in a fort. I want to retreat to the safety of imagination when seriousness wins over creativity. When reason wins over spontaneity. I want to live in a fort with my action figures and matchbox cars. No one can see me or know I’m there. I can go in my mind and play with all of my friends. Han, Luke, Chewy. The Six million dollar man. My true friends! Time out. Time in. I saved the world again! Hooray for the good guys. I want to live in a fort.

I’m An Observer

I’m an observer. I see the world and I want everyone to see what I see. Everyone has a story. Everyone a plan. Some stories intersect; some barely touch but all happening at the same time on the same spot of land. Forward momentum pushes us forward. Intersecting paths give us pause to think. Sometimes there’s a conflict and struggle and sometimes a break through but always momentum pushes us forward. Sometimes we miss it. Sometimes we are forever changed by it but momentum pushes us forward. What are we going forward for? Why do we get in a hurry to get to the only place we were going to get to anyway? Some seem to know. Some seem to not care. Some are better at each situation. Some lie and wait for their sign. I am an observer. Always awake, always watching, always present. I am an observer. A timekeeper, a storyteller. a score keeper. I watch over the store. A referee. I am an observer. Seldom am I involved. To busy rushing to reach my own end. To busy paying attention. So busy I can’t be bothered with something like involvement. For who will do my job? As it is mine to do. But who will live my life if not me? It’s perplexing. I am perplexed. Couples, groups, families all around and I see them all as I go unnoticed. Unseen. Watching, recording, learning, growing. But who will tell my story. I am an Observer!

To Truly Know Nothing

I’m in love. It’s a strange emotion. There is no ability to be normal or tough. It’s a thirst that’s hard to quench. It’s scary the anxiety it reveals and how one person has an unspoken connection to my mind in such a profound way. I’m in love. That simple reality changes how I process normal activity and the outlook on the rest of my life. The beach has a new meaning. The waves are speaking to me. Is my love received? Is it known? Can it be? Are there roadblocks not of my making? These things are important. Aren’t they? Can I affect someone else’s love? Yes! I’m really not sure. Actually I don’t think so. She definitely loves me. However, fear and her thick wall is a particular kind of minefield for both of us. Like most she’s opened up and been hurt. I don’t know how to reassure her I wont or if that is even something that is real. We take chances with one another and therein lies the fun. The challenge. The scary, strange, mystery. Love is scary and strange and challenging and an uncertainty in life. Will this work? Will I be noticed? Is this love too perfect? Am I in love for all of the right reasons? Who cares and why do I? Love hurts us all! We can avoid it and live our life just fine. But are we living? We aren’t sharing if so and is that living? Are we scared? Scared of being truly seen for who we are? Sometimes we hide. We hide from the pain. Either we avoid it and have a certain emptiness  or we embrace the ride and look forward to what we accomplish and who we become. My love has decided she is scared and is trying to keep her distance. She is aware of herself but scared of the potential pain and discovery. I get it but not sure how to tell her we are already attached and love has already started to sink in with both of us. What a very unique opposing set of emotions. I anxiously await her call which keeps me up at night. But the thought of her eyes and smile brings me peace which helps me totally relax. I feel warm all over whenever I think of her face. Her laugh. Her stare. Where I go from here is uncertain. Staying true to myself is the hard part. Such a blissfully irrational emotion. So I wait. Wait for that moment when I know that I truly know nothing at all. Being in love is a strange and scary thing. It will make you euphoric and give you strength. It will expose you for who you really are. It will show you who you truly can become. Hopefully all of these words resonate with my love. She truly is my hope and my scary dreams. My happiness and my pain. My one and only. I am most definitely in love!

OTP Official!

So first I’d like to say if you have found yourself here I thank you. I am new to blogging but not new on opinions and story telling. I’m not sure if who I am is so important but to get an understanding of my point of view here goes…

I grew up on a 7th generation farm outside of Atlanta. The ATLiens would definitely call that OTP! OTP and ITP refer to people that live inside or outside of I285 that is know as the perimeter as it runs a large circle around Atlanta. This saying is a way to distinguish between simple country folk and the more distinguished metropolitan city dwellers. I’m sure several big cities if not all have this sort of labeling. In LA where I currently live it would simply be called the 909 which is the area code for far away from LA but still in Los Angeles county. Anyway, you get the idea.

After life on the farm and graduating from The University of Georgia, I moved to Nashville with my band for a few years until we moved back to Atlanta, inside the perimeter(ITP) this time. As that ran it’s course I made it as far as Vegas where I lived for a few years until finally finding my way to the beach here in what is know as the South Bay of Los Angeles.

The South Bay quite honestly would be OTP back home but because famous people and wealthy people live here we just refer to it as the bubble. However, from my point of view I still reside and identify with the locals who, hense the name of my site, live way outside the perimeter.

Why does any of this matter to my opinion? Well the truth of that is why does anything matter to anything but since I’m writing this and since someone out there in cyberspace has read this far here goes…

Living on a family farm with history all the way back to Scotland is definitely a different way of life than the music scene that is Nashville, the Metropolitan South that is Atlanta, the strange dynamic that is Las Vegas and the very self important LA. Somehow I have been able to, to some degree, relate to everywhere I’ve lived. I have been able to get to know locals everywhere and see what they consider the important issues to their families and surroundings. I have become the voice of the outside world or at least the voice of a different point of view to several of my friends in every city. I do this not to be argumentative but I feel as if since I have been fortunate enough to have lived around the US and also fortunate enough to have made some good friends that it is my obligation to give back to all of my friends and help different areas understand what makes other areas tick.

We all sometimes get busy in our world and forget that there is so much more going on out there and if we have never lived it we never really understand it. I am always searching for a way for all to at least understand where the other is coming from. I am definitely not one for political correctness or what I call focusing on the lowest common denominator, however, I would like people to at the very least have some real idea what life looks like on the other side of their world.

Thanks for reading and please say hi or leave some sort of comment. I also have been writing what I simply call “little shorts” as I don’t really know what they are but my pen seems to enjoy writing them. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I do and I’m sure on some level they will also tell you more about who I am which will circle back around to my discussions. Thanks again for stopping by!