now THIS is how to drink rum...

i just made the worst udon noodles i've ever had. they weren't terrible, but they were that awful kind of mediocre that just. makes. you. sick. to have even attempted to pack away two packages of empty carbohydrates and a quarter dose of frozen vegetables into one shoddily made meal.

'what? you need help starting your car? be right out.'

(be's right out)

what? i put the simmering vegetables on the opposite element i was using and they still burned?! how far did i push deej's car?! oh well.

'hey ty. how come this element is on over here all by itself?'

'oh hey seano. you mean the one i turned off be.cause... i turned the WRONG one on below it first? only to leave the water in the kettle ABOVE it boiling instead of my water? and in surrender to my own absent mindedness switched the pots to get quicker boiling results, then yet failing to turn it off? are you speaking of THAT element? yes please turn it off for me. i don't deserve an attempt.'

and i tried to eat the whole thing. and because it was so mediocre, i couldn't finish it. therefore i'm missing out on like... 1/8 of the invisible nutrients my body could have absorbed.

at least i got this drink right. THAT'S how to drink a rum. on a monday. not a thursday.

i have a gift.

and i share it with you from a friend who gifted it to me.

also... crazy, stupid, love. was destructively good.

so i do not forget

DOUBLE... so i do not forget. note to self.

tyler. you entered a bet last night. you must win this bet. you cannot shave for as long as possible, for if you DO shave and you are the first one of the lads to do so, once the longest lasting man decides to shave his beard, you must glue his winning beard to your face for one full day. don't mess this up. hold true. you do not want the pride of another man to cover your shame.

with earnest,

-t.

sssssssssstuesdayssssssssss

first off... i've been drinking. for the prize of a giant glass. a true german stein. earned that. by drinking two litres of beer i knew i could handle. but could i? you can't see how many times i've pressed backspace already.

second off... i handled it for a bit, but instead of swallowing it with pride and passing out with dignity, i'm typing fervently about my heart and what it's saying. not in the emo nonsense way it has been. eric, you may proceed in this reading. my broken heart is not the topic of discussion. forget that business. the world needs all of me and not the broken me.

my mom will read this. fuck.

my dad will read this. double fuck.

i have an entire ESSAY in my head about profanity. i just wrote 1/8th of it and deleted it because i don't think it needs to be brought up. intention is the justification. seek your heart. seek your creator.

fourthly, the topic of discussion i had in my head has dissipated into the desire to sleep. real hard. and i EARNED it. and i am fearless in presenting my earnest desire to be heard. will i be used? hopefully. can i count on that? who can actually name the true heroes of our faith that aren't documented by people like me in the bible? speak that to your congregation. if the word of God is living then it didn't die with paul or john. -oh right. sex. i care more about creating life than gratifying my desire for humping. a dog does that. likely to my leg. a man does what he can to satisfy the craving he has for affection... but the reward of creation to me seems more deviant than the probable three minutes it would take me to feel 'complete'. so i guess i am like paul. i see it. i just don't want it. i just want more.

and like the pentagon. with a point destroyed by ignorance and rebuild by 'justice' driven by the same ignorance... fifthly... i fear change. i fear the realistic expectation that things will be different when i come back. I will be different. you will be different. but You will be the same. and i can't change my goals based on my fear. i am unhinged. unclaimed by this world and society. love and grace abound and my direction is directly into the heart of such. and i fear it. but my mask is off and my destination in view. but it's still a 360 degree view. that's what makes it so amazing. i fight with the 'publish post' button because i feel irrelevant. but when information travels outwards... who am i to choose what it means to someone? fuck it. not the disrespectful, irrational way.. but the freedom way. the only way i know. the one i've been taught. the one i've learned.

and when i wake up and read this and groan about how dramatic i am... i'll listen to my heart and say 'oh shit yes. let's act upon this as i've written it. expectation is worthless, but education is enabling?' and i'll laugh at myself over breakfast. but look me in the eye and tell me it isn't true.

i'd say once every fifteen nights i do exactly this.

....

i COULD get up and brush my teeth.

OR....

i could lay down and pass out in my clothes until 4 am, take them off, and duplicate pass out until 11 am.

decision made.

... what if i'm right?!

the first time i saw colin and alexandra, i was all like 'oh snap, they're going to be in love.'

then the first time i saw that they were in love i was like 'oh SNAP they are in love and he's going to get super serious about his job which will fit into her job like a friggen puzzle piece since they both love people and helping people, and then once he is established and she is almost ready to be done school and almost ready to be established he's gonna be all 'baby baby marry me!' and she'd be like 'playa whaaaaaaaaat of course!', so they'd have a quick-ish engagement with a mega rad location wedding that was accessible to all their loved ones and it would be pretty much the most adorable wedding ceremony ever, cuz it'd lack tradition but boast creativity and they'd walk away from the alter both all like 'saaaaaaaail!' and we'd all dubstep our way outa there and into the beach ass reception where there would be epic dancing to epic music and probably some man to wife music wooing and some return wife to man music wooing and we'd all watch and be wooed by the wooing and celebrate really good, and then after probably 7-8 months they'd go 'oh no suckas we half accidentally half didn't try to prevent a baby brewing!' and we'd be all 'oh shit yes we like this!' and write clever things on their facebook walls thinking that one little thing we said would dictate the names of the quarter japanese quarter norwegian FULL HALF canadian baby boy BUT LO they were twins and they aren't symmetrical in their naming schemes so one name is brilliant and poetic-ish and one is strong and standard yet original and they for some reason meet some pretty significant people during their early parenthood and end up at elevated positions of ministry/outreach in their community and these two lovely kids solve shit and welcome their new fully on purpose baby sister into the world as he continues to rock the father beard and she writes some crazy inspirational songs because being a mom rocked her socks in the change the world kind of way, and so they adopt a kid from an orphanage in vietnam and another one from the philippines or cambodia because chunks of her heart were still there and now were reclaimed BUT ALL THE WHILE kicking worship ass and being major parts of the many communities they were involved in, and whilst their children excel in school and prove to be doubly creative as their mom and dad they become 'those parents' hauling their kids to all the various kid activities that happen as children realize how awesome they are and good at everything like he and she but it's like, doubled because kids are CRAZY like that, so as they grow up and become their own wee people, he's all 'flip i love my wife and my kids and my job and my God' and she's like 'double flip i also love these things' and their massive family takes ridiculous trips that cause ripples in the system because wanderlust is probably a genetic/proximity trait so the notsoweeones all end up in really faraway places for education but he likes it and she likes it and they love being the parents that are super stoked about how talented their kids are and are stoked to understand the pride, but since they are gone they get a cat but then lose it so they get a dog because it likes them just right, and soon all of the sudden like crazy they are patriarch and matriarch of almost a defined plethora of grandkids and he loves to throw them into couches and she likes to sing them to sleep and they both like to put on satirically educational puppet shows and his beard is grey like a true silver fox and she cries a lot because she's quite the happy grandma'.

but first i was like 'yo you cats comin to our halloween party?!'

mental memes

... list time.

1. 'clean ALL the things!' -hyperbole and a half destroys my brain. in the good way. what a magical gift from alexandra. AND with her and other folk constantly throwing ALL the things around like conversational skittles, my brain takes these offerings and throws different twists on them.

'ink ALL the lines!'

'eat ALL the chili!'

'flirt with ALL the girls!'

finally my inner dialogue has become truly ambitious.

2. 'lana. lana. laaana. LAANAAAA. d dangerzone!' -archer. and an accidental association of top gun theme songs. aside from a major character having the name of my future daughter (definitely not the name of my future daughter inspired by a major character... nope.), if i ever actually claimed something as 'the good shit', archer truly would be the only shit that was actually good. and because recently, the re-watching of season one has but default brain activity on the finest of archer quotes. boop.

3. instantly judging the fate of couples. i know this isn't a meme. but we're past those now. with the transpiring of recent events i feel an enlightened intuition about the state of couples. relationships or shits. even with guarantees (of which i can claim no existence within any perception (phwaaa)) i sense that i can FEEL the outcome and then proceed to mentally map out the entirety of the relationship. it creates good stories.

4. i just like the term memes since it being used in school a lot for a smart* design class, and THEN discovering it's usages within society and social networking. makes me feel. .... *. ASTERISK win. in other news, i'm not going to shave for awhile. to add to my three week awhile already. why? meme yourself an answer. it probably involves the same ideals as sweatpants. or skinny jeans. either way i'm in a box yo.

5. the painting above. every you catch me staring at your lovely God given face, this is how i'm picturing it.

6. thinking about good stuff to say, then forgetting it. i call that a phantom meme. or being memed out. because meme-ing your face is too easy.

dearest marc.

i am writing you an epic letter. epic i tell you. and i tell you how epic it will be WITHIN the epic letter. i just wanted you to know that in the coming days of writing, you should be gripping your inner thighs in anticipation, like a little child waiting for a cookie. what? you didn't sit cross legged and latch onto your inner thighs? in anticipation? well i did. do. thus whatever your body does in times of extreme anticipation, do it. it's going to take these days because i have a lot to go over. and time is sometimes the best author (ohyeahit'sfilledwithshitlikethat). and whilst this happens i have mind blowing conversations like this -and we're all victims of it, instead of letting that genuine openness allow actual functional relationships that are discovered instead of built- going on. it'll trickle in, to be sure. i've got citations, references to those citations, re-citations for those references, and talk of siring children. because i love kids, and siring is a damn fine associative word. agreed, non?

this is how i burn that self destructiveness up.

a merger

and i think... that either way i'll still be missing something. because in the search for convenience i've created the ability for two personas. possibly schizophrenic or escapist in nature, or possibly just living some pseudo enlightened fantasy of superhero mysticism. two identities?! how could i not. but my name is still tyler. and i still will be missing something.

but maybe i'll write in two different ways! the past now history applebomber, still reliving and striving for fictional narratives of justice and heartache... and the present and future arsonist, constantly questioning and disrupting the flow of my own predictable stream of consciousness and relentless and reckless pursuits of the heart. ... . either way the flow of words and thoughts and actions all slide and smash headlong into the brick wall known as uncertainty... the archaic notion that i can actually predict and understand my future. brought into the brutal reality that i have very little control. maybe how hard i kick against the current.. but eventually i'll succumb.

i hate self analysis. now i've gone and praddled (word.) off two almost-paragraphs of mentally unhealthy sounding t-jargon that i'll read in a few months and judge 'oh you emo bastard...'. but to future tyler i say... eat it. heed my warning and don't do what you know you want to do but knowing what will happen. you're still stubborn as shit and that shouldn't change. but just remember OH remember the 5th of november (it's andrew's birthday) and to hold fast to the fire you swore to let consume you. if your hands aren't burning anything then you need some fuel. at least from space they might be able to see the little fireball you produce.

all these stories in my head i should probably pound out. for you. for me. for US (dramatically grabs chest and a brick from the wall). my planning and plotting in my words. my poetry is in my actions.

(cue convicting antagonistic lyrics)

i ain't no jackass

i'm the KING ass.

seriously. i'm a horrible friend to the people that don't deserve it. this is a downward spiral i thought i knew how to fix. joining a spiral that JUST stopped going down and decided up is better. a different, enlightened perspective with boldnessrage that only dares to fail harder.

'i'll bet you can't spin that propeller in the opposite direction... harder..'

'challenge accepted.'

(heart screams bloody silent murder in the background)

and then the cycle continues. up and down. joy and destruction. disruption through it all. i can hold on to the pain, but that makes me weak. i can hold on to the anger, but that makes me proud. i can surrender further, but that makes me less in control... but since i'm along for the ride at this point anyways... take this mush. throw it into the fan and unleash it onto the world. it's probably not ready but it isn't ever going to be. some will catch it, find it disgusting and dispose of the mess and wash themselves clean of it. others will find it soothing in open wounds and hopefully HAAAAA this metaphor has been taken too far. it it it. i AM it. i AM shit. i AM ready to be free and disruptive and obedient for my King. and these are the qualities that cannot be boxed in by expectations.

"send me all of hell and I'll face them,
I'll face them one on one... thousand."

we tore down this wall.

and still it was close to death. the gut wrenching truth behind everything i thought i knew, yet knowing ever more and ever clearer that what i knew was influenced by what i wanted. intentions spare no martyrs. cleaved open and dripping, i'm Yours now and forever free. i'm a broken pile of investments and bones; and that is where the truth lies. unleashed, a bloody mess upon this tattered earth, stained experiences washing clean the ideals for a future i choose to not behold. every song ever written wasn't good enough for what i wanted to feel, and every other song ever written was written for this moment. here's to knowing strength, here's to studying hope, and here's to never learning.

all i see is the word in the middle.

reckless. paint poem and proceed. we're all on fire but some of us need more fuel.

guidance.
boldness.
victory.

two are easy. one is demanding and takes the real courage. fear isn't extinguished, but spited. if victory is the flame and guidance is the knowledge of what the flame looks like, boldness is the work it takes to remove the match from the box and strike it against the roughest surface possible. frightening friction married with insecurity but pressed beyond comfort.

the reward only yields more opportunity to press harder and abandon security by embracing salvation. that is our victory.

we are the children of fire. and we were born to fight.