Posts

If I shared this article with you directly it’s because you are part of my family of friends. Please take a moment to read it and then share it directly with those who are in your family of friends.

This post is part of my 30 day creative writing challenge. Click here to learn more about the challenge or here to explore the other posts in this series.

I don’t come from a big family, so over the years my friends have become my family.

In some ways that family is more important to me than the one I was born into. I mean… I don’t want to diminish the strength of blood relationships but that is not what this post is about.

This story is about the few people we encounter through the course of our lives, that make us feel as if we were meant to meet. Those people from whom you are incapable of withdrawing your unconditional love once it has been given. The people we call our best friends.

The family we are born into “requires” our love but we get to decide which of our friends “deserve” our love.

There may be nothing more powerful than picking the people you want to love in life. Then letting a few of them in to see the real you. The broken you.

See, we all put on a show for the world. We all want the public to see us one way, while in reality we live anther. Because who would accept us if we were really ourselves all the time?

It wouldn’t take long before we started getting into fights, and running into problems at work. We would start pissing people off left and right and eventually we would find ourselves all alone. So instead, we pretend.

We attempt to restrict our true selves. We pretend to comport in order to fit into the different communities in which we live. But there is a small group of people from which you need not hide.

The people who you would take a bullet for, and just as fast, punch in the face. Maybe even while laying in the hospital bed after taking that bullet. And you would throw that punch with confidence, knowing that they will love you anyway.

Because physical pain stands no chance when you make that kind of connection.

When you find someone who can make you smile from a million miles away. When you find someone who doesn’t even have to be in the same room to make you feel better about yourself. When you find someone who you can allow into the closest circles of these lies we love to live.

When you can find a person who decides to put you first, because they know that you have done the same for them.

When you can finally find, a family of friends.

 

This post is a submission from my 30 day creative writing challenge. Click here to learn more about the challenge or here to explore the other posts in this series.

I bring a handkerchief with me on Tuesdays so that I don’t use all of my therapists Kleenexes. I also wear or bring my glasses so that I can try and hide my swollen eyes. Oh, and makeup, I bring under eye concealer, eyeliner, and tinted moisturizer, since all that stuff, despite my best efforts to “clean cry,” cries off.

After my session I pull my shit together and for the rest of the afternoon at work I pretend like I just didn’t dig inside myself for an hour to talk about traumatic memories from my past.

Today I reached for my glasses case and when I opened it, it was empty. Fuck. My glasses were at home, on the kitchen table, where I took them off to write my column last night. I looked in the rear view mirror and winced. They are all going to know.

I put my sunglasses on, drove back to work and went to the ladies room. Sunglasses still on. Thank God no one was in there. I fixed my face with my makeup as best I could and took several more deep breaths. I drank water and powered through the afternoon like always.

After work and errands I walked up the six flights of stairs to my apartment and started to cry again. Relief. This is what changing behavior and being mindful feels like. This is the healing process. This is the work.

This post is part of my 30 day creative writing challenge. Click here to learn more about the challenge or here to explore the other posts in this series.

I want everyone who reads this post to do one thing today. Actually, you should do it this very second.

I want you to quit pretending like there is going to be a moment where someone walks over to you and says “Hey there, It’s your turn to be amazing today!”

Stop pretending like things are going to get better on their own, or that a business is just going to build itself, simply because you had a great idea.

Stop waiting for the light to turn green. Just look to both sides to make sure there’s at least a shot of making it across the intersection and run the damn light! Why the hell is there a light there anyway?

As soon as you can do that, you are one step closer to becoming the real you. Closer to being the person you were always meant to be.

So right freaking meow, before you move another muscle. I want you to…

Stop waiting for permission to pursue your dreams.

I want you to stop doubting yourself and give in to your inner winner.

I want you to stop talking in the mirror as if you hated yourself, and start telling yourself something specific you want to accomplish each day.

I want you to stop yourself every time you try to bring yourself down. Stop letting the world inside of your mind run over you. Seriously, quit that shit.

Quit waiting for someone to tell you what you can or cannot do in this world.

Quit thinking that you have to live your life one way or another. Quit thinking that you have to do things today the same way you did them yesterday. Quit thinking of yourself as second class.

Stop thinking that the purpose of your life is to serve as a cog in some other mans machine. Sure, some people make great cog’s, but not you.

Stop acting like you can’t go out tomorrow and make something happen on your own. Like you couldn’t go out right now and do something that would help you be a happier more fulfilled version of yourself.

Stop pretending that the world is not malleable. That everything you want is not within your reach. You just have to be willing to go out and grab it.

Stop thinking that you are incapable and just do it! Do something new, do something completely out of character. Surprise a friend, kiss that girl, change your routine. Do something. Anything to shake the machinery of monotony. The habits of humanity that so many of us refer to as life.

Start waking up each day with the thought that you are meant to do something special with your life. Reassure yourself that you are not just another purposeless pawn, professional this, hourly that, or salaried brat.

Quit your job and start that company you’ve been talking about. Ask that redhead on the airplane out for a date. Do something that makes life last.

Because it is in those moments that time stands still. It is in those moments that we can live forever. The brief moments in time, when we define who we are and what we will become.

So stop asking for permission. Just go out there and break some shit!

Maybe a leg, maybe a bank account. Maybe just your own ego. Whatever it is you need to break, then break it. Whatever you need to do, then do it.

Test yourself. Find out what you are capable of by pushing yourself to the brink. Because it is in that moment when you will find the person you have been looking for all along. Then, and not a second sooner.

 

This post is part of my 30 day creative writing challenge. Click here to learn more about the challenge or here to explore the other posts in this series.

Dear god, what did I get myself into?

If you don’t know, about 11 days ago, I committed to 30 consecutive days of sharing my thoughts publicly.

What was I thinking?

I’m starting to wonder that myself right about now.

I never considered the fact that I might run out of things to write about. Maybe I should have planned ahead, or had a few articles ready on the fly. Maybe I should have prepared for moments like this. For the moments when nothing makes sense. When the only thought going through my head is “Go lay in bed!” For moments when I must not only fight the world, but must also fight myself. To create, to live, to smile.

It’s not that I’m at a loss for words. There are always plenty of words running through my head. But if I were to put them out to the world in their raw form, none of you would be able to understand them. None of you would be able to deal with the havoc that they are so capable of wreaking.

Instead I must massage and manipulate those thoughts. I must mold them so that you can read them and enjoy them as an interesting story. As beautiful allegory.

I wonder if any of you could last a day inside of my head?

I wonder if I could last a day inside of yours?

I wonder what it will be like when we are able to experience each other so intimately. Maybe that will be the 22nd century orgasm. The ability to jump into someones brain in a way that was never before possible. Combining your emotional experiences with those of another through the blending of technological and chemical processes. An experience that will surely make sexual relationships obsolete. After all, we’ll probably be ordering perfect babies online by then.

What the hell are you even talking about Raymmar?

Oh, nothing!

Just random thoughts, a few of the many that come to me through the course of any given day.

By the way, is it day 11 or day 12 of this challenge? Who even knows?

Wait what? It’s your challenge, you should know!

Shit, it’s not even half way through and it seems all I have left are fractions of thoughts. Thoughts about business mixed in with thoughts about bills. Thoughts about paying them and about trying to get by until the next time they come back around. Just a few of the random thoughts that I always deal with as a fledgling entrepreneur who keeps his brain out on public display.

The thoughts of a guy who keeps it real in his writing as well as the world he lives in. Something that has proven to be more costly than initially anticipated. So much for the freedom to be free. Turns out it’s pretty expensive to be free.

This website and some of my thoughts, have cost me A LOT of money in consulting contracts over the last year and a half.

The language, the raw expression of emotion. The religious references, the political rants. All of it has upset potential clients enough to lead them elsewhere for services that I was best suited to deliver. Rejected based on open expressions and thought. Rejected for everything this country is supposed to be known for. For poking fun at the things that we are not supposed to talk about publicly. Things that we are supposed to think only for ourselves.

Because the narrative needs to be controlled in order to be effective. And it would upset the balance if too many of us actually figured it out at once. If enough of us realized that life is a game, and then actually started to play it. And learned that the rules of this world are not written in stone. They are written by men and made to be challenged.

Imagine if the whole world was willing to admit that they might be wrong. About something. About anything. About everything. Maybe even about themselves.

Imagine if we could understand that at the end of the day, we are all human. That we are all capable of excellence, yet equally capable of making mistakes. That none of us are perfect. And that just because someone want us to pretend to be that way, does not mean we have to.

So here is another day of my thoughts. As random a glimpse into the back of my brain as you’ll ever get. As I sit here, avoiding myself and exposing myself, all at the same time. Trying to connect you to a piece of yourself that we all recognize, but hate to admit. Like riding a moped to the grocery store. It might be fun until your friends see you, but then the explanation begins. Because there is always an explanation isn’t there?

Always a reason. And that reason is never us? But maybe it should be.

 

A brief autobiography. Because everybody should have one!

This post is part of my 30 day creative writing challenge. Click here to learn more about the challenge or explore the other posts in this series.

Overview: It occurred to me that everyone should have some sort of autobiography. It might be important in helping you organize your thoughts, tell your story, or just to write some part of you down for your future self to read. That being said, for today’s challenge, I present you with…

A Brief History Of Me

My parents moved to Columbus Ohio from Puerto Rico a few months before I was born. I guess you could say I was a journey man from day one. I grew up and lived a modest life on the north side of Columbus, Ohio graduating from Northland High School.

After High School I enrolled in the industrial design program at College for Creative Studies in Detroit Michigan with the desire to become a car designer. After a year in the program, unsure if I would be able to afford the next 4 years or be able to sit in a room and draw all day for the rest of my life, I decided to leave school and moved back to Columbus to “figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up”.

Shortly thereafter (March 2004) my mom and I went to visit my dad who had just moved to Manatee County Florida as the county surveyor. I saw an ad guaranteeing $36,000 a year to sell cars and figured “Why the hell not?”. I delayed my flight a few days so that I could take their sales training classes and flew back to Columbus the following Saturday. I packed all my stuff into the back seat of my 1999 Hyundai Tiburon, worked my last day as a lifeguard, had one final hurrah with all my friends before hitting the road back to Florida the next day. In one week I had gone from vacationing in Florida to living in Florida and shortly thereafter, my love for sales was born.

I was recruited from the car dealership to a local insurance agency to sell commercial property and casualty insurance. Things were going really well for me until one day they weren’t (I am skipping a few details here, but that’s 3rd date material). I ended up moving back to Columbus in November of 2009. Floundering around for a while, working misc jobs here and there, pretending to be a consultant, working at the swimming pool as a lifeguard again and I even managed a kitchen, all while trying to get back on my feet after my fall from grace.

Struggling to find a direction in life I felt lost, alone and worthless. I never gave up hope and I always knew I was put on this earth to do something amazing. I moved back to Florida in March of 2012 to chase my dream with reckless abandon. I figured if I was going to struggle and flail around in life, I would at least do it for myself. More than a year later I am doing well, building a reputation in the community as a thought leader in the world of sales and marketing, inspiring people through creativity and free thinking and I am now testing the waters with a few of my own ventures.

I have a variety of talents spread across a number of disciplines. I am an artist at heart, but I am also a skilled graphic designer, writer, web designer, user interface designer, I shoot and edit video in my free time, handle SEO, blogging, social media, write a couple thousand words a week and so much more. I am the modern day renaissance man with a passion for learning and everything creative. My quest for world domination is really a shill for me to learn and explore as much of the world around me as possible without having to do it under the constraints of someone else’s corporate philosophy.

I firmly believe that I have struggled in life as preparation for what is yet to come and am looking forward to the next chapter in my life. This website is my voice to the world. A place for me to speak my mind, stir conversation and show off my creative talents. Stick around for a while, bookmark the site and feel free to keep in touch as I claw my way from nothing to the top of the world!

 

“Maybe you felt uncomfortable with the way I portrayed you because I was right!”

This post is part of my 30 day creative writing challenge. Click here to learn more about the challenge or explore the other posts in this series.

Yesterday I shared a very difficult experience from my past. It was an event that changed me forever.

Some of the other people who were there that day took issue with the way I portrayed them in that story.

I found that interesting, because a few of the others who were there reached out to me privately to let me know they appreciated that post tremendously.

But the truth of the matter is that I am only able to write from one perspective. My own. I can only tell my story from where I saw it, and I did just that, as honestly as I possible could.

No offense to those who did not like my thoughts, but they are my own and I am the one writing this narrative. I am the one exploring my thoughts. Maybe you felt uncomfortable with the way I portrayed it because you know I was right. Have you considered that?

Have you ever considered that the reason you hate hearing the truth because you know it’s true? Because you know that you are not being honest with yourself? Unwilling to let yourself see the real you. Hiding behind the person you want the world to think you are.

This is why I am challenging you to write every day for 30 days. Heck, maybe you’ll get hooked and end up like me. Unable to go a day without writing something. Even if it’s just a random thought. Even if it never gets shared, read or heard.

Because I want to tell my story. I want to give my perspective. I want to organize my thought so that I can learn how to understand myself as thoroughly as possible. And I want to share them with the world so that I can use them to hold myself accountable.

So thanks for being a part of this challenge and please, share your stories with us so that we can share them with the world. If not for me, then do it for you. I read them all myself, respond personally when I can and share it on my blog if it’s really good.

I promise you’ve never been as high as the moment when you get a note from a reader telling you that your work changed their life.

So express yourself! Share your thoughts! Define your perspective.

Because if you ask me, it’s the only way to truly live!

 

This article was featured on the Medium home page!

When I was 19, a boy drowned at the pool where I worked. I was the first responder. This is the story of that day as I remember it.

Dedicated to Murphy Shurig. Aug 4, 2002

This post is part of my 30 day creative writing challenge. Click here to learn more about the challenge or explore the other posts in this series.

“Lifeguard, lifeguard!”

The screams were coming from a group of boys who moments ago were playing and throwing a ball back and forth. They were regulars at the pool but I didn’t know any of them well.

This was my first summer at this particular pool, so I hadn’t gotten to know all of the pool rats yet. I did know that they were all above average swimmers though. They were also just on the edge of my zone, (the part of the pool a lifeguard is responsible for watching). It was right where my zone and the other life guard’s zone intersected.

I thought they might be trying to get my attention as part of a game they were playing, something that is not all that uncommon. But when I looked over, I saw them holding up one of their friends. They were lifting him to the edge of the pool.

I looked over in time to see them setting him up on the edge and let him go. Just in time to watch his pale body fall lifeless to the deck.

And then time stopped…

THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!

In what seemed like slow motion, I jumped from my platform on the guard chair down to the ground. I’m not sure why, but as I ran over to where the boy was laying, I pulled the whistle and lanyard from around my neck and flung it away.

When I got to where they had dropped his body I saw my worst nightmare laying on the ground in front of me. His skin tone was not natural. Not blue like they show in the movies, but not like any color skin I had ever seen before.

I checked for a pulse. It was there, but it was weak. The manager on duty must have noticed that something was going on because she started to walk over.

I screamed at someone  nearby to call 911, and ran to the guard shack for gloves and a mask. Thing I should have had on me at the time.

When I got back, the manager had starting rescue breathing. She must not have had the airway opened properly because that air went right into his stomach and not his lungs.

How do I know? Because vomit, that’s how. Lot’s of it. Right into her mouth!

Watching the kid throw up should have thrilled me, except this was not voluntarily evacuation. The air she was breathing into his stomach just needed to escape… along with whatever he had eaten for lunch.

I straddled his lifeless body and started thrusting above his pelvis and just below the belly button. Pelvic thrusts to make sure the airway was clear and to help purge the rest of whatever was left in his stomach so we could try the breaths again.

She cleared his mouth with her finger, put the mask over his mouth and tried to give him another breath. He threw up again but this time was different. This was a mild mix of foamy whiteness and whatever else was left in him from the previous purge.

I look to my right, towards the two other pools. The rest of the lifeguards are still sitting in their chairs. People swimming as if nothing was happening. I noticed that the lifeguard who had her back to me was turned around to see what was going on. I could tell she was crying. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to sit there and not be able to react.

My first thought was anger. “Why aren’t you helping?” And then I realized it was actually a good thing. It was a big facility and if they had cleared the pools, a huge crowd would be gathering around us.

Even then, a crowd was forming. Small at first, but the people who had cleared the slide pool were starting to notice that something was seriously wrong.

I continue scanning the scene. It was like time was frozen but I wasn’t.

I locked eyes with a mom who was standing there with her two kids. One on either side of her, under each arm.

“Get them out of here!” I shouted in her direction.

Where is the other lifeguard that was watching the slide pool with me? Shouldn’t she be handling crowd control? Did anyone call the paramedics? Breathe kid, Please just take a breath on your own! Dozens of thoughts were shooting through my head all at once.

I finally see the other guard. She’s standing over by the front gate, probably waiting for the paramedics. She was also crying.

I look back down, another breath, still nothing. I check for a pulse again. It’s there, but barely. No chest compressions, yet.

It get’s a little fuzzy from there, but those few minutes felt like forever. The next thing I know the paramedics were there and it was all I could do to get away from the seemingly lifeless body.

I took a step back and fell to my knees. How could this be happening to me?

I was prepared for this. I was the guard who was always stressing the importance of training. I was the guard who suggested that we start doing weekly in-service trainings, but “that would not be necessary at this pool!” is what I was told it.

“We’ve never had a drowning or major accident at this pool. There is no need for that kind of training.”

That’s what the manager told me earlier that summer. The same one who had just been mouth-to-mouth with a lifeless 13 year old boy.

What a shitty time to be thinking I told you so!

That was just a few days before another ominous conversation I had at the beginning of that summer. A conversation in which I told my girlfriend at the time (a lifeguard at the same facility) that “Someone is going to die at this pool.”

I wasn’t specifically saying that someone would die that summer, but I sure as shit said it, and I hate that about myself. I hate that I saw it coming and still did nothing.

I saw that the training was lax and that to most of the seasonal staff, life guarding was about getting a great tan and hanging at the pool all summer. They were all strong swimmers, and the pool was in a wealthy neighborhood. After all, things like that aren’t supposed to happen here.

At least that is what they thought, before that day.

Could I have done more?

I hated myself for not being more vocal. For not being more adamant when I saw someone sitting in their chair sideways, or ignoring the pool. I should have spoken up when I saw someone using the rescue tube as a pillow, or reclining in their chair for a better tanning position. But I was the new guy. What was I gonna to do?

It wasn’t like I spent the summer before that managing a another local pool, and the summer before that working the wave pool at a large water park. I quit counting after 100 rescues that summer. But not at this pool.

There we were, half way through the summer, and I hadn’t made a single rescue. Maybe they were right. Maybe nothing bad was ever going to happen here.

So I started to relax. I started to become complaisant. Mostly I just wanted to fit in. And after a few times of being called “Pool Nazi,” I decided to roll with the cool kids. I decided to set my intuition aside and do things their way. I decided to drop my guard.

But I should have known better. Because I was also the guy who had been through everything you could ever go through as a lifeguard. I was the guy who knew, that at any moment, something could go wrong. The one who should have been prepared. But there I was. The first responder, and unprepared. I was the guy who failed. And it might have cost the kid his life.

To make things worse…

The police wanted to talk to us right away. They took me and the other guard, the one who had run to the front gate to wait for the ambulance, and put us in the back of a cop car to fill out the required reports. A cop car that just so happened to be sitting at the base of the steps that lead to the entrance of the pool.

It left us sitting so that everyone leaving the pool, as it was being cleared, would have to walk by and see us sitting in the back of that car. I felt like a criminal. I couldn’t stop shaking. No tears though, those would come later.

After I was done with the police I went into the office where some of the pool staff and management was talking. I remember trying to call my parents to come pick me up, driving was out of the question. My dad answered the phone.

Before I could get a single word out, I started bawling. Uncontrollable tears as the reality of the event began to set in. One of the managers, or maybe one of the board members (I can’t really remember) took the phone from me to explain the situation and have them come pick me up. I was 19 years old.

A piece of me died that day, even though the kid lived. But just barely. He would never regain consciousness.

It would take me more than a decade to realize how this event had changed my entire trajectory. To realize that it sent me on a spiral of self destruction that would eventually lead me to drop out of college, move across state lines and bury myself in whatever distraction I could find.

I spent a lot of time at his bedside the next few days, until the family decided to take him off of life support. His pain was over. But mine was just beginning.

A final round of tests during an autopsy revealed that he suffered from some sort of heart condition. It just happened to hit him while he was under water. They said that the same thing might have happened to him if he was playing at a baseball diamond, or in his back yard.

But he wasn’t at a baseball diamond. He wasn’t playing in his back yard, was he? He was at a pool. He was at my pool. And I was the guy. I could have saved him!

I was left to replay the events of that day in my head over and over. Wondering what I could have done differently. Knowing that none of those thoughts were productive but allowing them to eat at me nonetheless.

The local fire station set up some counseling for us, but it wasn’t at all helpful. How was an hour of talking going to change anything? The memory would be forever engrained in the deepest creases of my mind.

I would later meet with the boy’s parents and deliver a letter I had written to them.  Two letters actually.

One was a firsthand account of the events of that day (in a sealed envelope in case they didn’t want to read it) and the other was a letter offering myself to them, in whatever way they might have me.

They never blamed me for the events of that day, but they didn’t have to. My worst fear had come true, and I blamed myself.

 

This is a submission from our 30 Days of Thought challenge. The only edits made have been to formatting and for appearance. All thoughts are strictly those of the author. You can learn more about the creative writing challenge by clicking here.

“Of course it is happening inside your head Harry, But why on earth should that mean that it’s not real?”

-Harry potter and the Deathly Hollows

Ahh… Imagination… My favorite state of mind.

All my life I have always had a very… STRONG imagination.

Whether it was finding a cure to cancer, winning the big game…to being a great rapper and actor…or even…saving the world…

Yep… I been down those roads.

Funny thing is… I still have hold of mine.

Now I’m sure that others imagine things for themselves like a new car or more money…but I tend to think of the bigger picture.

And when I share my thoughts and ideas about things… I’m viewed as…. crazy.

But if my memory is correct… there have been a lot of things that I’ve been right on… weird.

Maybe I have been given a gift…. Or maybe I’m as crazy as you think I am…

But no matter how you view it….

I have a imagination…..

Which is something that you may have lost it seems….

Don’t you know that what the mind creates can becomes reality?

 

This post is part of my 30 day creative writing challenge. Click here to learn more about the challenge or explore the other posts in this series.

Today I saw myself in another man and hated what I saw

I was in an argument that had absolutely no purpose. An argument, simply for the sake of arguing. Picking sides in a battle because I had to be right, but by the time I noticed, it was already too late.

I was too stubborn to step back and too determined to prove to myself that I was right. Because, well… I was right.

But so was he. Kind of.

And so there we sat. Both right, yelling at each other for no real reason, and then I saw it.

I saw myself.

Looking at this man I saw myself arguing with so many others over the course of my life. Defending my position because I was already emotionally committed to the argument.

Unwilling to humble myself because my macho man mechanism was in full force.

I hated that moment. It made me realize how it must feel to sit on the other side of a stubborn mule like myself. I found myself in the middle of the same argument that I must have had a hundred times before. Almost always as the immovable rock.

So as hard as it is for me to do, I tried to humble myself. I tried to take a step back but I couldn’t fully disengage. I still had enough of the old me left in the tank to try and show him how much like me he was actually being. But it was of no use.

He had no interest in having himself tell himself how much like himself he was acting.

And it was in that very moment that I grew. As if I had hit a psychological growth spurt. As I sat there dumbfounded, caught in this real life freeze-frame of a time, not long ago, when I was the one who was arguing recklessly. Oblivious to the futility of it all.

It was in that moment that I realized how childish I have been all along and quite often still am. It was in that moment that I realized there was no sense in being right if all it meant was feeling wrong.

And so it ended. Another tough lesson in this game we call life, but one we would all be well served to learn. Maybe next time, I’ll see myself in a man and like what I see. And maybe I’ll learn how to be more like him. Maybe I’ll learn to swallow my pride and take a step back. Or maybe, I’ll just do it all over again, like I have before.

After all, do any of us ever really change?

Are you a writer? Ever have a desire to write? Click the button below to learn more about my 30 day creative writing challenge and learn how you can empower yourself through your words and the words of others.

 

An in your face article that challenges you to consider the real reason our country is in turmoil. Who is really to blame?

This post is part of my 30 day creative writing challenge. Click here to learn more about the challenge or explore the other posts in this series.

Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.

– Ralph Waldo Emerson –

Highlight any text in this article to share it directly.

First of all, lets set some ground rules!

The word “fuck” is in the title of this article! So If you keep reading it and then decide to bitch at me for using it again later, then that’s on you. Don’t come crying to me in the comments or on social media about how inappropriate my use of the word is or how much it offends your sensibilities.

After all, If a couple f-bombs are all it takes to keep you away from what I am about to say, then imagine what other wonders of the world you are missing out on while hanging from that noose of naiveté.

Secondly…

Fuck YOU!

That’s right, I said it! And you’ll be lucky to get one or two people throughout the course of your life who are willing to be as honest with you on a consistent basis as I am about to be.

The truth is that everything is not going to be alright. Things are not a-okay, and the world we live in is full of people who will fuck you over as soon as you give them a chance. People who will hand you a dollar bill to help you pay the rent while stealing your house from the guy who rents it to you.

People who care about nothing more than using you as their philandering whore. Who give you just enough to keep you happy, and feeling free. A type of 21st century slavery. Something that will leave generations to come as slaves to a silent master. And do you know why?

Because fuck you, that’s why!

Our country was founded by people who felt that freedom was part of a natural law. A right that should not be intruded upon by men. But the country they gave us has been overrun by people who have strategically played the system on both sides in order to control a game bigger than you might even be willing to consider. And they are doing it all right under our noses. Do you know why?

Because fuck you, that’s why.

The books have been cooked for a long time now and the real reason that things are not getting better is because as a species, we need to be pushed to the brink in order for us to break. Its a fundamental flaw of human nature. One that leads us to fall prey to the pied piper time and time again.

So I know these words might piss you off, but you know what… I don’t much care. And do you know why?

Because fuck you, that’s why.

For not seeing that the the people in control want you to hate me. For letting them make you think you do hate me. Not because of who I am, but because of the labels they have given us. For not seeing that they are in control of our education and the entire national conversation. Only letting us know what they want us to know and burring the rest with streams of misinformation in order to further confuse us.

For not seeing how easily humans are controlled on a mass scale. For not understanding the fundamental nature of our educational, religious, media and government institutions. For letting them pass off their own doctrine as that of the majority.

For going in to work each day and selling your soul to do something you hate. For not selling out to your passions and for not chasing your dreams. For not being willing to create an opportunity if your path is not clear. And for hating those who do.

For not playing more. For not spending more time laughing! For acting your age. For living life as if you were on a stage. Always on call, always taking the easy path to ensure you don’t fall.

For thinking you deserve something. For thinking that because you had something yesterday it’s still yours today, or that you won’t need to keep busting your ass in order to keep it. For not realizing that nothing is permanent in this life, and that the world will erase you as fast as you let it.

For not recognizing that our society is still in its infancy. For not knowing that the American experiment was a gamble on mankind as a whole. That it was an all-in bet on whether or not man could rule themselves.

For not understanding the consequences of giving the government overarching rule and control of the means of production. For getting mad at lobbyist in Washington but allowing them to enter your house in high definition for hours a day in the form of entertainment and news. For being a hypocrite and not even knowing it.

For knowing and still standing by. For not participating in local elections. For not looking for something more than superficial. Fuck you for not seeing that our society has been designed to do exactly what is happening right now. For not seeing that the rug is about to be yanked out from underneath our feet and put us on all on our asses.

For thinking that we can give the same assholes who drove us into this collapse, the keys to the tow truck that is supposed to pull us out of it. For not seeing that Democrats and Republicans are both pieces of the same puzzle. A large game of chess that has been played on a global scale. One that will never end. One that will be played over and over again, everyone available for sacrifice. Other than the royalty that is.

So fuck you for all of that. For being a doormat. For lying there on the ground so flat. For watching idly by as the the world falls down. And for sitting quietly on the leash while continually being pulled around.

And fuck me too, for blaming you. Because if it’s true for you, then it’s true for me too. Because we all sit around and pretend like it’s not our fault, but in the end, who else is there?

So… What the fuck are we gonna do about it?

 

A short poem about self doubt and the process of being consumed by the unhealthy thoughts that often creep into our heads. Day 4 #30DOT

This is the third post in my 30 day creative writing challenge. Click here to learn about the challenge or explore the other posts in this series.

Hello friends!

No, not you internet friends. This is not about you. I’m not trying to be rude, but this is my 30 day challenge and I’ll make you cry if I want to.

But seriously…

This post is specifically intended for my real world friends.

These words are for the people I hang out with on a regular basis. The people I eat with, drink with, and sometimes make bad decisions with. The people who know me outside of these short bursts of words that I regularly post online.

Mainly, I want to tell you that I love you.

But keep reading. For real though. Or I’ll cut you!

I know I can be a dick, and sometimes you probably just want to smack me upside the head. But I’m glad you don’t. Otherwise I’d probably have to walk around with a helmet on.

To the girls: Sorry if you catch me sneaking a peek! I’m a guy, and you’re hot. Maybe next time don’t let it all hang out. Wait, what am I talking about? Ignore that last line.

To the guys: Sorry I’m smarter and funnier than you. I have a few extra pounds to make up for and really, it wouldn’t be fair if I was this awesome and in great shape.

Shit, there I go being an ass again. See, I can’t seem to help myself. I really do love all of my friends though, like a vegan loves vegetables. Like a prostitute loves penicillin. Like Asians love rice!

But does any of this even matter? I know a few of you read my blogs because you tell me now and again, but what about the rest of you? I could probably say whatever I wanted at this point and most of you would never know it.

It’s not like I expect you to read every article but hell, I write a shit ton. And the whole world seems to be watching, yet it often feels as though none of you care. We are friends right? Why don’t we talk more about what we can do for each other. How we can help each other get to where we are going?

So enough bitching, here is what I want you to do!

I want you to share something with me. It doesn’t have to be personal, and you don’t have to do it publicly. It doesn’t mean you need to sign up for my writing challenge (but you could subscribe to my email list), I just want you to connect with me at a deeper level.

I know we can’t always talk on the phone or get together face to face but we can at least take the time to share a few written thoughts with one another. At the very least we can take a second to say something meaningful to the people that matter in our lives. And that’s what this post is all about. To let you know how much I care.

To ask you to give me a part of you to hold and call my own. Let me know where you stand, so that I can come stand right beside you! I’m inviting you to share your dreams with me, and tell me how I can help you reach them. Tell me your biggest fears so that if they come up we can face them together. Tell me I suck so that I can get better, and please don’t get mad if I do the same.

Let’s make a deal to stay away from the drama. Let’s make a deal to always be real. Let’s make a deal to not be scared to tell each other how we feel. Because anything less than that would mean we aren’t really friends. And you just read this whole post so that seems pretty unlikely!

So keep on being you. Because you’re fucking awesome. Otherwise we wouldn’t be friends. So… there.

Anyway, I love you guys!

Now share the shit out of this post so I can get on Oprah in a couple months when it’s time to start selling my book! K-Bye now!

This is the second post in my 30 day creative writing challenge. Click here to learn about the challenge or explore the other posts in this series.

I’m not very good at love…

Sneaky-sunset

Click the image to Follow Raymmar Tirado on instagram

Actually, I’ve destroyed every relationship I’ve ever been in.

The biggest trophy in my case of fuck-ups came from a four year relationship that ended in divorce. But I’m over it, or at least that’s what I tell people.

The truth is, that when you truly love someone (at least in my jaded perspective) you give them a part of your soul. You give them a small piece of yourself that you will never get back. And the pain that comes from having that person rip it from you and run away with it forever is one that will never fully fade away. You can simply hope to get better at living with a little less of yourself inside.

I was heartbroken for a long time after my divorce. Unable to let others in. Unable to let anyone love me because I hated myself.

Over time, my heart grew cold. I slowly became jaded, callous and cynical. There seemed to be a process of petrification that was consuming my heart and soul from the inside out.

I have only had one relationship with any ounce of importance since then, a relationship that showed me that there might be a chance for me to love again. A relationship that probably never would have worked, but one that felt right in the moment. A fate I’ll never know because I walked away from it to chase my dreams. The same dream that leaves me here in front of you. Alone.

I have however, recently seen a few holes in the armor that protects my heart. There have been a few moments where I have allowed the thought of being that happy again to cross my mind. But only for a split second. Then I slam the shit out of that door and tell myself that “there is no time for a distraction right now!” I tell myself that I must get it right this time and that there is no more room for failure! Definitely no time for women! Only work, art and self hate.

But that’s not true. If there is one thing I should be making time for in my life right now, it’s love. Not necessarily with someone of the opposite sex, but for myself. And it’s that thought process that leads me to remember that at the beginning of this year I made a single resolution. It was not to lose weight, it was not to get into better shape, make more money, buy a nice car or anything like that. My resolution was simple. Learn how to love.

I wanted to learn how to love myself again so that others might have a chance at actually loving me. Because if I learned one thing from all of those failed relationships in the past, it’s that I must be true to myself in order to expect someone to be true to me.

But being true has been hard. Being true in the life of me can be quite scary. The thoughts on this website have cost me more than $150,000 dollars in consulting work over the last two years and being this open, especially about my personal life, makes it very hard for me to date.

Not to mention that I’m a tough person to get along with for any length of time. I am stubborn, sarcastic, prideful and I like to talk shit. Over time I wear people down, just like I wear myself down. Eventually they just get tired of it. Tired of me.

I’ve lived with myself and the harshness for a long time now so I know how to handle it when I get too aggressive. Something that is not as easy for others to do. Especially with any regularity.

They do not understand that it is the only way I know how to be. That those moments of loud assholery are me trying to communicate with them and not knowing how to do it any other way. It’s like some sick twisted joke I play on myself. “Let’s see how fast you can scare this one away Raymmar!”

But I’ve gotten tired of it. Tired of myself.

This was the year I wanted to change all that. I wanted to try and understand others better. I wanted to be more empathetic and emotionally available. But it has been a hard transition. And I have to admit that I have not been doing a very good job of living up to that resolution.

But then I met her.

She absolutely baffles me. She is more beautiful than I deserve and she makes me laugh. I can be honest with her and she has even seen some of my darkness and still came back for seconds. I think it might be the main reason we could work. Because our pains have connected.

I can feel an energy on her that is the same energy that I have lived with for so long. The hatred that comes from being betrayed by your closest friend. The energy that comes from holding it all in. From never letting anyone see you for who you really are. The pain that comes with hiding from yourself. Form your emotions. From pretending to be stronger than you are.

I know that pain. I don’t know the specifics of her pain, but I want to. I want to know everything about her. The good and the bad. Because if I am going to learn how to love again, I have to be willing to lose again. Because that is what I would want someone to want from me. Because I am only interested in someone who can see the darkness inside of me and still chose to stay. And what better way to get what you want in this world than to let someone know that you’re looking for it.

So yeah, she slept over last night, but we didn’t have sex. And honestly, I’m ok with that.

I’ll be ok with that for as long as it takes to find out whatever it is that we need to find out about each other before we are open to taking that next step. Before we find out where the next turn leads in the early stages of whatever this dance we are doing might be. Until we can communicate about what we want from each other and from ourselves. And until that moment comes and neither of us hesitates.

 

Click here to learn more about my 30 Days of Thought Challenge

We have all heard Einsteins definition of insanity (or was it a Chinese proverb?) as doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. It is something that people throw out via meme, tweet, t-shirt, bumper sticker etc. yet, almost every one of us continues to do the same thing day after day. We are after all, creatures of habit. And I am not the exception.

I like to talk shit about how the world works and bloviate about politics and philosophy, but I rarely take the time to look at myself. Sure I beat myself up here and there, but I rarely talk in depth about my real flaws or focus on the fact that I am often part of the problem, not of the solution.

Give me a website that is not converting and I can show you how to drive traffic, build engagement and increase conversions. It’s like optimizing digital products comes naturally to me, but ask me to fix myself and the blinders come on. My ego throws up a wall that stops me from objectively looking at what is really wrong. I raise the barriers and start to defend my behaviors. I get frustrated and of course, nothing changes. Then, like clockwork, I begin to hate myself for being so stubborn.

But today I am trying something different. Today is the first of my 30 Days of Thought Challenge, and I have decided to do something completely different today than I have done every day for the last 5+ years of my life. Starting with this post and the admission that I need to change myself before I can ask or guide others to change themselves.

That being said, not only am I starting a writing challenge, but I will also be working to change a few of my bad behaviors over the next 29 days as well. For instance, today I set and alarm for the first time in years, I woke up early and I even thought about eating a healthy lunch. See, who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks? But those are all surface issues and this is where I hit my first real barrier.

You see, I have been struggling with a few issues that I am not sure I’m ready to share just yet, but I have a sneaky suspicion that they may all come out during the course of this challenge. I intend to purge my mind, body and spirit over the next 30 days and I’m going to do it right here on this blog. So I hope you’ll join me because I am going to need your support in sticking with this thing.

If you do decide to join me on this quest, thenfeel free to share your 30 Days of Thought with me as we go along. Feel free to use the same format, and then share your thoughts in the comments of each article or send them via email to 30DOT@raymmar.com

You can also share with us on social media by tweeting @RayTirado and using the #30DOT in your posts!

That is all for today. See you fuckers tomorrow.

Just a note:

Most of my blog articles are super long and heady. This challenge is not about posting long, well articulated arguments about how the world works. This experiment is about sticking to a new set of behaviors over the next 30 days in order to try and change some of my stubborn habits. That being said, these posts may be all over the place. Think of them as unedited journal entires. There may be some typos here and there and sometimes they might be short, sometimes they might be super long. At the end of the day, I am just challenging myself to stick with it for 30 days and then look back from there.

I challenge you to join me in organizing your thoughts and connecting with the real you. #30DOT