Collide

Cradled.

Rolling in the black

Edge of a weeping.

Tired, burning way

Floating on the endless tide–

Hope, wait.

Streaming agony on and on–

Fading rapidly

Cold pervades fingertips.

At the fairer shore,

Clasped hands endure.

The restless tears spent,

On sorrow, more

115 More Days… Sigh

I’m actually watching all the previous seasons of Hard Knocks because I’m so fucking sick of dead-time already. Wasn’t the super-bowl like, last week or something? And here I am, impatient as always. Struggling. It’s going to be A LONG TIME before I am appeased. The NFL off season is a “dark time.” Much like a dramatic and prolonged winter. There is really no other sport, in my opinion, worth paying attention to in the interim. Basketball is organized thuggery and hardly a sport. Baseball is dreadfully boring, too long, and fundamentally uninteresting. The fantasy equivalents of said sports are just… retarded. In my world, the National Football League is the un-ursurpable king.

I no other forum do the complexities of individual interactions mean so much to the game. A single match-up can ruin a drive, or break the game wide open. There is no surrender in football. There is always a chance. It’s chaos theory at it’s embodied pinnacle. Who is stepping up? Who is getting beat? Who extended themselves beyond what we understand as the “limit?”

~115 days is a long time to wait for the beginning of training camp. But it is what it is. And I will be thinking little football thoughts as the time passes.

This year, I fully intend to manage my own league. I have been toiling over the specifics of how to balance scoring. I think I have finally done it. I’ve created a system which is balanced enough to allow for ONLY the individual talent choices to be the deciding factor in whether you win or lose in the league. It’s never going to be about exploiting a scoring system, as has been the case in EVERY SINGLE LEAGUE I have ever been a part of. There was always a way to exploit the scoring, even if it took some brain-power to figure out.

I have done the math. I have worked the variables down to a fine-science. I know how to balance scoring, so no position offers an advantage over the others. It’s going to come down to how the managers assess talent, draft and make waiver moves. That’s it. Smart players will win. Period.

This is the way it should be.

I have not FULLY decided on my teams yet. There will probably be 2 of them, one in my family league, one in my league. 3 teams is too much for me to keep track of. I hate the manager who runs 8 teams, and when I ask him “what’s your record?” He answers, “Well, I’m 10-2 in one league, and 8-4 in another.” Thus, the cream of the crop are presented as the definitive data set, when the rest of those teams are 2-10, 3-9 and so on…

As Dieon would say: “Good luck wit’ dat.”

Give me a break, manager with 8+ teams. You hide your flaws poorly. And your stupidity glares with glowing eyes at me. I see your little mind, despite your attempts to obfuscate.

I’ve finished in 2nd place 2 years in a row, and was RUNNING OFF with the lead in my Uncle’s league, until he selfishly, insanely, dissolved said league under the maniacal iron fist of his challenged tyranny. Shame on you, Uncle Phil. You’re an idiot.

I would never do what he did. Never. It’s not the job of the Commissioner to be noticed. He is a PLAYER AS WELL, not the “ruler of the league.” Go ahead and think of yourself as the “Pete Rosell” of your league. Yeah, right… you’re not the president of decision making. And that should never be changed. Arrogance and pompousness aside. We are in this together. No one stands above the rest.

I wonder if I will win my first championship this year. I may, as I’m only improving as the years pass. I think I can, I believe I can, and eventually, I will. Patience…

I’m a deadly opponent. A fast-waiver-mover. A repetitive thinker. A discerning foe. I await the challenge of the 2013 season. But I have some time to be idle. Waiting. Thinking. Calculating the demise of my enemies.

“In time, you will learn to call me… master.”

Reluctant Awakening?

I wonder, do we know why we are here? Is there a purpose to our microscopic, fleeting lives? I believe there is. Humans, generally, seem to mire themselves in things only relevant to the brief window of existence we occupy; neglecting the wider-frame by which reality is observed.

I don’t intend to cast sweeping stereotypes. I just have a feeling, with the obsessions we share in gawking at misfortune, violence, and what new ludicrous complication has been added to our socioeconomical hierarchy of comprehension, that we are entombed in a short-term view of things. The magnificence of our arrival in sentience is totally forgotten. Our inspirational expansion and fascinating exploration of technology/science is shoved to the side, in lieu of the ever-increasing desire for exploitation, gain, and domination. Why is this world so bent on eating itself alive?

I long to have been alive during a time where we grew into an understanding of the value of living. The tremendous and unique nature of our fragile existence is taken for granted. We teeter on the edge of being, waiting for inevitable calamity, which encompasses the primary means of change on our planet. We have a window, briefly, into awareness. We squander that noble right daily. We thrive on mistreatment of life. We capitalize on pain, suffering, unfairness, and a deeply corrupted sense of morality.

Things may not change in my lifetime. Though, the longevity of my temporary occupation is largely unknown; probability states that my life may reach a natural conclusion of some form. Catastrophe or rapid-disintegration is far more unlikely. But I have the tingle of fear in my bones, the subtle disturbance of knowing. I almost yearn for a shock to the system, with hopes of dramatically opening our eyes to a new set of priorities. An awakening.

If we are bound to rotation and circumnavigation; constantly plowing through an uncertain dark, we should be aware of our rarity. We should be thinking: “who are we? And why are we so fortunate to be alive? Who else is out there? Can they hear us?”

I am given the gift of awareness, in a time where that quality is not understood, or particularly cared for. We have an animalistic existence, dictated by a hunger for the flesh of others. In time, we may come into a different understanding. But the history of Earth paints a different view of our time here. We have no more of it to squander. We are running out of chances. We have to survive. But we won’t.

The Day, The Night

I have been experiencing some instability lately. Things at work are hard… been grinding myself pretty hard… perhaps taking things too seriously for my own good. I wonder about my future. I wonder about the integrity of my situation. Do I have what it takes to be successful… I guess I worry. Maybe it’s for my protection that I am constantly concerned; I’ve been down the path of failure before.

On the bright side: literally, another meteor lit up the sky over the east coast, specifically Massachusetts and Delaware… FUCK. This is a troubling sign. IN MY OPINION, life is a fragile balance, then we get something that causes the balance to change. I don’t like the thought of my proximity to the Pacific Ocean. It’s a BIG FUCKING TARGET. And we would probably never even see it impact, as the space is just so fucking vast. We WOULD notice a 3 mile high tsunami though. I would have almost no place to run to. I have a plan to just get on the 8 and drive east… but fuck… how do you outrun the end of the world?

We are balanced somewhere in a twilight of existence. Teetering on the terminator between night and day.

I worry, because we have reason to worry.

There are things happening out there that are FAR beyond our control. And we have to do the best we can, when the time comes, to survive.

***UPDATE***

The Earth’s surface is 71.11% liquid water. On it’s own, the Pacific Ocean is 35% of that water. Jesus fucking guacamole christ… I’m not making this shit up. We have a real problem here people. The sooner you realize that, the better chance you have of surviving, though, I give myself about a 1 in 100 chance (being adequately warned) for making it out of San Diego alive if a large meteor were to strike somewhere in the Pacific. Maybe 1 in 1000, depending on it’s overall size. Anything bigger than a house in overall size, and we would surely die.

Long Time SInce I Did One Of These

On a scale of 1 to 10 (1 = serious problem, 10 = not a problem), rate the following:

Emotional Health:     7

Physical Depression Symptoms:     9

Physical Anxiety Symptoms:    5

Racing Thoughts:   10

Depressed Thoughts:     8

Self-Esteem:     10

Concentration:    9

Enthusiasm:    10

Charisma:     10

Motivation:    10

Paranoia / Fear / Anxiety:    9

Outlook / Hope:    10

OVERALL:    8/10