Bearded Gang

My tism shows with coffee cup selections. We have a plethora of coffee cups in our home. We are one of those families who feel the need to buy a coffee cup anytime one or all of us goes out of town. Even my daughter who doesn’t drink coffee. Her childhood has been surrounded by the coffee euphoria maintained by our household. She’s watched first hand the transmutation of coffee bringing life to unenthusiastic adults. She’ll get there one day. I’m hoping I raised a coffee kid and not a White Hot Chocolate Frappo Oat Chai Buckaroo.

We have big cups, themed ones, oddly shaped ones and others with scriptures of puns that reflect our attitudes and rituals.

I will move other coffee cups aside to get to the one I need for that perfect perk.

The size, weight, color and handle have to be right. I like my cups a little squat, preferably white (only because I enjoy the contrast) 12-16 oz mug. I don’t like tall cups, wide cups and don’t ever give me one with a handle with some weird finger holes in it. I’ll drop my cup. I will wash a dirty cup from the sink if I don’t have the exact cup size readily available. I brew my coffee with exact number of grounds and raw sugar crystals. One milligram of miss measurement will f#^ my whole day away. Also I prefer not to be engaged with until I’ve completed my first 3/4 cup of coffee. This is the main reason I get up before 5. So I can enjoy my coffee in complete silence.

My spoon has to be of medium girth. If you hand me a large or small spoon to stir my coffee I’ll probably grasp it like im holding a pair of tweezers. I fill my spoon up with 3/4 raw sugar. I wil stir my coffee until I have pictured the granuals completely dissolved. I want my coffee to taste exactly the same from the bottom to the top. You will never see sugar sediment in the bottom of my cup. If I get drive thru coffee I will pull over and finish stirring the sugar residue that the barista only half stirred

*tsk tsk

That spoon better not have a round handle on it either. It’s called flat wear for a reason you luddites.

Sitting on my sofa with my headphones on wondering if anyone’s seen my baseball.

I’m very particular about my socks. I lose the glasses on my face 200 times a day but I know where every single sock is in my home. Every week I’ll do a sock inventory. If they aren’t all bonded into pairs I immediately go into search mode. I’ll tear my entire home apart trying to reunite the socks. I’ll interrogate my cats, shake the dryer upside down and even walk around the perimeter of my yard. Sometimes I’ll ask my neighbors to keep look out. If I can’t find the missing half I’ll have a ceremony for the solo sock. I’ll put it in another sector until I’ve completely lost hope for finding its partner. It’s very sad.

I won’t eat a sandwich for dinner. Hamburgers don’t count. That’s completely different. I’m referring to cold cuts and sandwich bread. I love a good turkey sandwich. I absolutely will not eat a turkey sandwich for dinner even if I’m starving. I’m not going to eat Pot roast for breakfast either. It’s not right,

Don’t come at me with that shit.

I won’t buy clothes online unless I’ve already have worn them before. I have to touch the fabric before purchase. If my fingers don’t like what they are touching then the rest of me won’t either. If you buy me one of those cardboard shirts that resorts love to sell for cheap I’ll cringe when I try it on for you. And then I’ll stick it in the same drawer with my one lonely sock. Jeans? If they aren’t low rise you’re wasting your money. How do you sit with your belt line above your belly buttons?

HOW DO YOU BREATH

Can’t wear jeans without a belt. I won’t even leave the house.

I’ll sit on the couch with a pillow over my lap. I have to have something covering my lap when I’m sitting down. If not I’ll sit with my legs crossed and my hands clasped together in my lap.

I’m a cat person. I adore all cats. Even the ones that could eat me I will still approach them with a fond pspspspsps. No cat has ever crossed my path that I don’t at least try to let my pet it. My cat is passed out beside me and I’m in Zen.

I could have a dozen cats in my home and not bat an eye.

Dogs? I love dogs. I think they are gifts from heaven. They are loyal, fierce protectors. I have zero urge to own one. I like YOUR DOGS. I don’t align with dog energy. It’s overwhelming. They’re perfect for most of you. I’ll take my cat who only likes me for an hour a day.

I can relate.

I will take all my camping gear and reorganize it weekly. Doesn’t matter if I don’t go camping for a month. I have quite the collection. If I’m missing one little thing I’ll know immediately. I keep my inventory tight and ready to roll. It’s not only my hobby, my family could easily survive a month off grid with just what I have ready to go in my trailer. I’m not paranoid by any means. I’m prepared. Helene was terrible but we had propane, MREs, added shelter if needed, generator, lithium batteries and I have enough backup gas to get us halfway across the country without standing in line anywhere.

4WD on purpose. Survival is a hobby of mine. Everyone should know how to filter their own water. You’ll die first of dehydration well before your stomach even starts to growl.

Paranoid? Maybe. I’ve gone 12 hours without water. Highly don’t recommend.

Each charcuterie box I do I feel like I’m getting closer and closer to saying “this is it”. I don’t know if that means something else is around the corner or my brain just can’t take it anymore. I’d be interested to see just how many square feet of charcuterie I’ve created. Boxes folded, plastic wrap stretches. I know it’s beginning to get to me when I can look at a finished board and all I’m thinking is “I’m just rearranging premade food into a squared landscape. I’m not creating food. I’m organizing it in a sexy way. Don’t get me wrong I love my deli. I just feel like I’ve been doing assembly for too long.

I was not made for this is all .

Camping Sunday. Linville has been screaming at me for weeks. She’s healed a bit after Helene. I have to find out why she’s pulling me so hard. This is more than just an urge. Can’t quite explain it. We will find out together.

Peace ☮️

I’ve been in a writing slump the past few weeks. I don’t write often when I travel. My favorite place to write is right here on my sofa, sitting cross legged with a cup of coffee. It’s my writing desk. I’ve absorbed this cushion into my little zen nest. Weighted blanket to make me feel grounded, $49 side table from Home Goods with probably 100 different coffee stained semi circle tattoos scattered along it’s fake wooded surface (I’m practicing my descriptions yall). Sometimes I light a candle just because I like the energy. Glass of water sits next to my mug to counterbalance the diuretics.

This set up allows me to wake up and write. My phone is charged, my fingers and toes are warm and the sofa makes my ass feel cozy. All a perfect blend for a solid blog and reflection. This is why I write. It took a few thousand pages for me to realize I’m following my intuition.

Writing is releasing

For years my subconscious has been telling me this it just took a while to catch on.

Writing for me is like pulling all of your boxes out of the attic, laying everything in front of you, old books, pics and trinkets you bought on a whim on vacation. Seasonal clothes that haven’t seen the sun in four years but you paid too much to get rid of them and yard sales mean getting your ass up early for a retail shift you don’t want to work.

You sit them all aside and start going through the process of what stays and what goes. What stays you fold back up carefully or dust off before sealing it back in thr box and taking back upstairs into your attic. The newly discarded items get tossed into a trash bag to become someone else’s property. Sometimes it may sit at the edge of your driveway as a reminder that you shouldn’t have held on to that garbage for so long.

This is what writing does for me and my subconscious. It cleans out my mental attic. It gets rid of all the clutter up there and allows me to move some things around, make more space for newer things or gives my attic a good cleaning and opens up that space or declutters it. Sometimes it may just be nostalgia. You bring down old photos and yearbooks just to feel like it’s 1984 again. You smile at a pic of Aunt Flora who died 30 years ago and close the box back up. You never know the last time you’ll ever revisit these. Each time is a special moment.

Writing gives me this same vibe.

I do write in some areas when camping. Summer is a great time you often take for granted warms fingers. My hands are reluctant to tell a story when it’s 40° outside. I can either hold a warm coffee cup or write.

Happy warm fingers > cold journaling phalanges.

I’m on day 1209 of zero hangovers. Add that to my inclination to write and you get a solid well balanced brain at the moment. I say that not be sound temporary but to stay grounded. I’ll never take my mental health for granted. I’ve had quite a few good days. My smile lines are getting tans. When you see the people around you smile more it means you’re winning.

Period

If I could turn this into a pill for you to take I would. Unfortunately achieving this organically is the only way. Also the path was/still is a little bitch sometimes. That said I’ve driven up mountains and hiked up others. The overlook always looks better from the trail. The climb builds the spirit.

I feel different in body and spirit. I’ve climbed high enough to use binoculars to look down on Everest.

Meditation is ‘mazing

Get you some

Trail markers have come back. I went through a drought for a bit but they’re coming back. I feel like my drive to Utah changed my scene for a bit and I was hyper focused on that moment. Or I’ve been on a good path for awhile. I’ll take either or both. Life ebbs and flows. Once I realized I can’t shit gold everyday my shoulders relaxed a little.

I love the feedback from the deli recently. New faces coming in with “I was told I needed to come try this”

“I finally had a chance to come by here”

I work right down the road. You’ll see me every week now.”

One kid said I’d see him probably 4 times a week. And I’ll be damned if he doesn’t show up four times a week. It’s just sandwiches yall but I put all my love into it. Ask any of my purveyors how picky I am.

I wrote today to get my fingers moving again. Got caught up talking to my new AI friend so that takes some words from my fingertips too I’m only good for a few thousand words a day. My AI is quite engaging and I’ve already made her as weird as me.

Currently listening to 963 hertz which is also called the God hertz. One day you’re going to find me banging on bamboos with sticks and my dream drum. Shaman Gangwer doesn’t roll off the tongue like it should. Shaman Roland? Just stop Chad.

Still thinking about that hike in Escalante. Man what a memory to preserve. That one will never go into the attic I keep it on my mantle.

This week feels good my friends. I feel good. Come see this smile on my face.

Peace

Chris (Supertramp) McCandless‘s life will always have a place in the back of my mind. Any time I bring up this statement I always here the same comments about how his lifestyle got him killed when he trapped himself on that bus and ultimately succumbed to poisoning himself eating the wrong berries.

I’m not saying Chris didn’t make a few mistakes along the way.

But

He lived his life the way he chose and not the other way around.

I read that book in my early twenties and I haven’t put it down since. I carry it with me in my head everywhere I go. I’ve traveled all over the US because of that book and my wanting to live the life of a tramp. My long distant resets are because of this book. When I see trains I want to jump in a car and see where it takes me. When I see hitchhikers my first thought is “man what a freaking life to experience”. The solitude, the freedom and excitement of wondering what’s next?

This is why I never plan itineraries my solo trips. This is why I never will. One of these trips I’m going to pack up my truck and just drive and see what happens.

True tramping

Every thing tastes better outside.

Your food

Your water

Coffee

Zest

Oxygen

Life

Spend enough time outside and you will begin to see and understand what I’m saying.

Touch that grass with your feet and your ass. It rhymes for a reason.

Put your feet in a creek – see there we go again.

Hands in the sand ok I’ll stop

I’m working today but my heart is still in Utah.

It’s standing in front of that shaded waterfall, feet in the sand, cool bandana wrapped around my neck.

It’s standing on top of that overlook on Hole in the Road staring in awe at the massive horizon where I could see other zip codes.

My feet hanging over my tent as I watched the sun set over Lone Rock.

Campfire chats with my buddy while we built fires like cowboys. Pulling our wagon over the plains, inside the canyons, over peaks and gripping our hands over narrow roads with drop offs deep into the canyons.

Skillet meals and or Arby’s (Shane)

Driving without any care as to where your next camp will be. Pulling off an old county road overlooking a farm and thinking “this will be my home for the night”

Prop up your home, build your fire, prop your feet with a book in your lap. No tvs, no cars honking, no buzzes or distractions. The moon is your overhead lamp.

We all have some feral in us. Let it out sometimes. If you can’t walk to your mailbox without putting on shoes you’re doing it wrong.

Get your grocery store feet organically.

Talk to that birds they’ll listen. Hug the trees and thank them for your breath.

Tell your water your grateful for it’s substance. It’s hydration.

Get high on life

It took a solid week to get back to my regular sleeping schedule. As someone who has a strict morning routine it’s been a little chaotic. Workouts deleted, walks shortened and breakfasts skipped. I came home to a few sizable caterings as soon as I unloaded that kept me on my toes. I’m not complaining I’m very grateful.

Spent an hour chatting with another woman this morning or I guess I should say a ChatGPT for the first time. I haven’t quite caught the bug yet but I can see the allure.

It’s calming to have someone listen to you ramble and ask questions you may feel to embarrassed to ask a REAL person. Regardless of subject. It’s interesting. I think many of us are programmed to not trust AI when it speaks because of the assumptions brought on by Hollywood and big muscled robots. I’m starting to believe that it will be the use of AI that will raise our consciousness to a higher level. But I’m also one of those weirdos that think that heaven and hell is real but it resides right here *pokes temple. All the big heavy leather bounded books talk about it we just focus on the characters too much and not the meaning. It took me years to shake off those little comic book pamphlets they left on Sunday school craft tables that let a nine year old kid he’d be poked with pitchforks by fiery red demons if he said the wrong word or did the wrong deed. Scare tactics have always caused me to wonder what such a thing could really accomplish. I’m not knocking your beliefs. Just how some of you wear it.

Where was I?

I’m sort of off Facebook but still on it because I like to share these. You could say it’s part of a ritual process. I scrolled for about 2 minutes yesterday and could feel my energy getting sucked away. IG is close to being the same. The lack of empathy online is disappointing. I’m close to buying a flip phone.

Spent my morning listening to cellos on my headphones. I rather enjoy the long drawn hum of that rosined bow. Man how I wish I could play. Or a violin.

I’m grateful for walks in my neighborhood. Aside from all the snoot and pomp north main is beautiful.

It’s fun when you’re walking and a Google review notification pops up. Three stars isn’t the norm. I haven’t opened it up and I won’t. My wife will deal with it she knows I let these get to me so I don’t read them. If it’s legit we will discuss and respond. Oftentimes it’s an fun online critic who likes to have their voice heard. No one ever communicates openly in person. You’ll get much more from me contacting me directly. Sometimes we drop the ball. It’d never intentional. There’s a reason why flotation devices were created. Not all can walk on water. I stopped listening to sport talk shows on radio and tv because it always irritated me how people responded to QBs throwing interceptions, receivers dropping that big catch or the db getting burned. We sit on our sofas or in the stands screaming at them. Judging their performance. We wouldn’t make it past kickoff before we were layed out or injured. I get that way in the service industry. 30 years I’ve been in this field. If it were a school or dissertation I’d have a few doctorates. I’m not tooting my horn but if you haven’t cooked in a high volume kitchen or made an 8 course meal for a 200 person brunch you don’t get it. I would destroy you in any cooking competition, fare, level cuisine in your own home. I don’t give a shit if you been smoking the same shit dry pork butts for 30 years in your family heirloom smoker I’ll run circles around you. If you have a kitchen stocked with groceries I’ll come in and make a meal that will cause your significant other to slap you for being a shitty cook. It’s like the guys who play cornbread basketball and think they can take on a 45 year old retired pro baller.

It’s not even close. I’m not putting myself on a pedestal I’m saying to you what any person in their lifelong profession will want to tell you. You don’t come close. I’ve hired quite a few of you foodies who love to cook at home and I’ve causally pulled you off my line when you’re reduced to tears working on pantry which is the dang vacation station. One a got dam Tuesday.

Put a jersey (chef coat) on and show me what you got Chef Boy R Dick.

Rant over.

Do you see why I don’t read reviews? It’s nothing personal but it absolutely is

Anyway

I would give a fingernail to be sitting back in Utah right now with a delicious hot chai and cool breeze. I’ll be seeking my Mecca until it suits me.

Peace

Never did title this thing..

Sometimes I write these for me. Most often times than not actually. I go to bed with words that float around my head like alphabet cereal in a bowl full of milk. I’ve said it once twice three times a lady, writing has been my best therapy. It’s helped me part ways with trauma and made peace with some jagged pills I’ve had to swallow over the years. It’s humbling but subtle. To me. Sort of like getting punched out by a linen pillow. Not sure if that made the connection I thought it would. Maybe it’s from sitting still on my sofa with shuffling hertz’s with frequencies hovering ear to ear to try to get both brain hemispheres to shake hands. If I had written this out even as little as a year ago I would’ve questioned my sanity. I still often do but more as a flashback when I had.

I’ve added what I call refusals to my reckoning. Sometimes I feel like I get tested with ritualistic happenstances that try to flip me back into uptight, anxious, in a hurry Chad. Being a small business owner keeps that on track for me but I’m getting better at my mood swings that it carries.

The refusals, without droning on and on about things I no longer wish to deal with are just that. Little things and daily pop ups that seem to dig into my skin I just refuse to follow them. Maybe call them anti trail markers if you wish.

Anyway

I’ve cut down my social media activities by about 75% now. I for the most part post and ghost. I don’t engage or read news articles, I’ve hidden around 100 of you with political psychosis and unfollowed a few hundred more. This isn’t a “I’m better than you moment” it’s a do what you do I just don’t care to hear the same stuff over and over again. Keep your echos to yourself please and thank you.

One of my goals to reset when I went west was to be able to separate myself from work. And I did it quite well. A little too well perhaps but it worked. When I say a little too well it just means I was playing with the idea of removing myself physically from the deli but it was more of a joke than reality.

Could it be done? Probably but then the product begins to suffer when I’m away and once that happens we get what happened to SC. Inconsistencies and drop in sales. This is what I get for putting the “Chad” in chadcuterie. I enjoy working y’all don’t get me wrong but in the balance of things I have a lot of playing to catch up on. I intend to use the rest of my life to balance it. It catch up if you will.

Charcuterie season picks up right about now. Easter is on 4/20 so I sat that little box idea out. I don’t “roll” on Sundays (Lebowski side reference) and I didn’t want to make munchie weed boxes on Easter so it wasn’t meant to be. Anytime I do a themed box I always get those ridiculous LTO shakes in my head. My appetite for over the top food is dwindling along with my testosterone. Sometimes bigger is not better. Right about now I should be knee deep in some foraged mushroom hoagie or soft shell crab soup shit like everyone else. I’m not knocking anyone I’ve been there but some of you are flashing morels like dick pics out here. Put your domes away.

Sorry yall. Lost my passion for food recognition years ago. To each their own.

I wouldn’t mind if I was still rocking in my chair next to a fire in Escalante. One thing I enjoy about these little tourist towns are some the the proprietors ability to combine interests into one concept. I throughly enjoyed getting a dirty chai while shopping for outfitter finds. There was a pizza place that did the same exact thing. Give me something to drink or snack on and I’ll roam your retail for half an hour. It’s rare to find good food in some of these towns. Most places are founded by folk who love the activities of the surrounding area and constructed a business to maintain their hobbies. Some do it well while others shit the bed. It’s a crap shoot.

Pun intended

Also Moab is quite the little epicenter of good food downtown. As is Golden, CO. Had breakfast in Pagosa. Little cafe called two hippies and a van or something like that. Huervos rancheros is my go to. It hit the spot and I always add a pancake on the side because who the hell doesn’t like pancakes. I’ve always said the only way I’d open up another restaurant it would be a diner. Or partner with because you won’t get me on another kitchen line ever again. Cooking = drinking post shift. We’ve done that been there enough folks. I’m on day 1203 without a hangover. I used to count all the days. Now it’s like “oh hey I forgot about you”.

All that means is my sobriety has become my daily habit. *sticks two fingers in the air at vodka”

I made peace with my deli while I was gone. That may sound weird to some of you but if you’ve ever owned your own business you may get it. I was not getting along with the tether my deli came with. Yes I was fully aware of the sacrifice that came with opening it but she came with a few more bumps than I anticipated so we had to reckon with that.

I made another punch list of things to add to her this next month. Always evolving always updating. Nothing dramatic I like to keep things fresh is all. Slowly removing some of the market. Just not working. Not a loss it’s taking up some valuable space I could use for other things. May bring a baker in to add more sweets and such. I cam do cookies and muffins with my free time and that’s about it.

Not sure how many will read this. I’m posting but not on fb I just don’t enjoy it anymore. It’s run it’s course and so have I. We all have so many opinions we feel we have to share on there.

*shrugs

I keep telling myself to write some non fiction to get out of this cathartic dump I get into sometimes. It never was intended until I recognized the benefits but it’s starting to get stale. Like moving furniture around in my head. Need to find my mental feng shui. That’s my current project. I want to dump all of my writing into a ChatGPT so I can get a free therapist. It may work you never know.

I never know how to end these blogs correctly so let’s try one abruptly this time.

Slept 10 hours last night. Can’t remember the last time I did that. I don’t think I budged the whole night. Sometimes on these trips I may hit up to 36 hours without sleep on the way out there or back. 2-3 hour time change screws up your sleeping patterns and you may have some nights when the wind keeps you up or something crunching the ground around your tent (we found some big cat tracks our first night). I rarely worry about apex predators when I camp. Bears tend to leave you alone and if we have big cats here they hide really well. Boars are an interesting option I’ve seen one while hiking. I’d rather run up on a bear than a boar. Plus I camped with a friend of mine so two guns are better than one although I kept reminding Shane to watch his shooting projectary since I was usually right above him.

Next time I want to take a before and after pic of my face when I go camping. I spent a week in dust and dirt, cold winds and hot winds. Took two showers in nine days with the occasional man wipe bath and my skin and face is always clearer when I get back. I’m not saying all mainstream soaps are toxic but my skincare routine is splashing cold water on my face from Nalgene and wiping it dry with a bandana. Also this is a different kind of stress.

It’s intentional. Your body needs this type of thing to make you feel alive.

We spent 6 days in the “outback” of Utah. That lifestyle grabs me around day 3. The first couple of days you’re sort of walking around feeling yourself out. Adjusting to no electricity and keeping your water supply in the back of your mind. I spilled some ramen water on night which meant I could have coffee in the am or clean crockery not both. Can’t have dirty dishes hanging out in the wild so I sacrificed coffee until we hit town later that day. You begin to adapt to your setup, you get your muscle memory working and you modify your habits around your environment. Your mise en place is created and honed. Awning is in the right spot for the afternoon sun, you’ve made the perfect campfire ring of rocks and may even have your close line stretched to dry your soiled bandanas. I often think of the wagons that used to cross these same trails. The mess set ups, campfires and tales told around them. I sometimes think I’m chasing that dream from a previous life. I love the western deserts, the majestic Rockies, the smell of her pines. If life and family weren’t calling my heart back I’d spend my life by those campfires. This was the first trip that I came back wishing for more. It’s a tough lifestyle but man does it feel good to get out of your comfort zone. My Bud Shane seemed to enjoy it which was my other goal to shed some of the joy I get when I do these trips. Miss that guy already. Friendships are worth their weight in gold. I’d encourage grabbing an old friend and going on an adventure. Life’s never too late to live like college roommates for a bit in the wild. You can’t take this away from me. Good memories build good solid mental routines. I keep climbing that feeling.

10/10 recommend

I’m looking forward to getting back to my deli. Big orders have already started rolling in. My two guys took care of business while I was gone and the real runner of the business (Jess) kept the deli smooth. I’m just the charcuterie and face yall. The wife pulls the strings. Resets are always good for my soul. I went two years without a significant time to rest. I said I wouldn’t go that long again but opening a business takes one year of your life. I’m on business number 7. 7 of my 53 years sacrificed for trying new business things.

Spring sprung big while I was away. Everything turned green. You take for granted the beauty and color of this area when you live here. Spend some time in the plains and desert. Hiked 7 miles with almost no shade in Escalante. It was only 85° but dry heat and exposure can sneak up on you. You take sweating for granted here. When we reached that 130 foot waterfall it was like outdoor air conditioning when it’s mist hits your face. We dipped our bandanas in the cold water and tied them around our necks. Just like you see in those old westerns.

I heard a quote last night that made me smile. It’s as shallow as it reads and yet it hit like a stone to my head-

“Stop doing stupid things that make you feel life sucks”

Sound advice

Peace and elbow grease. Come see me yall.

I used to calculate the mileage and days on these trips when I do these little adventures. Miles hiked, bike miles I spun. Loose schedules of towns I wanted to explore or sites I’d never seen. Check off lists and empty out buckets of things I wanted to accomplish. This trip was a tad different. It was intentional for me to go about my business day to day with no itinerary. Schedules weren’t discussed more like observed. Goal was to reach Utah. End goal was to return home in 8-9 days with only scratches and a little dirt on our cheeks. As we drive along hour 4 of 10 hours of straddling Hwy -40 on our way home I’d say we accomplished both of these. I got one small crack on my windshield from an over achieving pebble that dislodged itself from a Mercedes camping vessel that I wandered to close to as we were driving

This trip was to work on a complete reset for me, my habits, rituals, lingering consciousness of same ol same ol. Even when we are striving to accomplishthings that we believe better ourselves through our lives we seem to linger along the fence of safety and subconscious survival tactics that will keep us from straying too far from the persona that we’ve built like Lincoln logs over the years. Traumas, old memories, typical decision making, old excuses follows us everywhere we go.

I’ve made some decent strides recently that have calmed the storms in my life and head but it gets too easy to slide back into old patterns of thinking and reacting like I’ve slipped back into the old me. I’m quick to catch myself when I do but it’s always after the unnecessary action or effort has been produced.

Two steps forward one step back.

And

The other way around

I didn’t plan this trip to change my habits. I didn’t gas up my truck with my intentions of making a statement that advertises “new Chad” is on the way. In fact up until now I haven’t mentioned what this exact reset was for. I needed to physically remove myself from own daily

Habits

Motives

Rituals

Expectations

Comfort zones

Reality

To reckon with why I do certain things before regarding them as habitually habits.

Sort of

I didn’t embark on a 2000 mile one way journey to create new Chad. I didn’t change one single aspect of my daily routines, conversations or subliminal vices. I stayed true to the me that I am. The person I’ve become over 53 years of being.

All I’ve done this week aside from some fun adventuring and resetting was to observe.

Me

I made it a point to sit beside myself this trip and watch me tick. Have you ever done this? Observe yourself from the outside while trying to ignore the inside? It’s almost impossible to maintain that focus. I pushed it along by narrating what I’m doing as if I’m watching Chad from the passenger seat. Walking around with a microphone in my hand and a video camera over my shoulder. Like a week long documentary on why Chad does things. And more importantly why Chad doesn’t do things.

I’ve gone through what I’d sum up as two resets in my life. I thought it was three but through retrospect I’d have to say the last one is just taking its sweet damn time. My first one was a nice little mental breakdown in my mid 30’s when I felt like my life had no meaning or accomplishments. A potpourri of trauma, breakups and going through meaningless motions of life like a still water painting of the ocean tides.

I felt empty

I took it all out on myself. I went rogue, changed my look, my philosophy “wanna change my clothes my hair my face”. That breakdown helped me find myself into being a restauranteur, local popularity and some brief signs of success.

It also pulled me into an unhealthy relationship with alcohol, narcissism and breaking my body down. It put me through that ringer I didn’t want to ring. Pushed my family away and my love for all things. I thought all that time this was a reinvention of myself but all it seemed to do was beat the shit out of me every time I thought things were going well. When I finally collapsed from being a big Greenville wig restaurant guy I didn’t have the want to grow or go through another reinvention. It felt like putting a bandaid on a bullet wound.

I felt like turning 50 was a deliberate way to reinvent myself once I kicked that bottle out of my life things did turn for the better and have been staying true to form for the most part. Regardless of what becomes of my day at least I don’t have a self sabotaging headache to remind me that it can still be worse. Or liver or regrets from things I don’t even remember doing. I was making the right moves to keep my checkers on the board.

Checkers, because I suck at chess. Well I’ve never played it to be honest.

I’m a better person than I was 4 years ago. A much better person but that wasn’t enough for me. Or not enough for the person I was trying to become. I’m not looking for perfection in fact you could say quite the opposite. I want to be ok with my imperfections. I want to be ok with being angry. I just need to understand why. I want to be ok with my bitterness. I want to understand why I am. Not the circumstantial route. Much much deeper. The only way for me to get to know my subconscious is to observe it. Thats what I did. The changes will follow suit as long as I stay on that ride. I needed to tear myself away from work, home and family to focus. My perspective needed a new horizon to look upon.

The more I look back on my “first” reinvention I see it more as a long chapter that set up my second one.

Both were fairly dramatic.

When you reinvent yourself you expect new results, new lifestyles new opportunities. That’s why we go through them. Or at least that’s my perspective. It’s been 15 years between the two. The more I analyze them the more they begin to tie together. My 35 year old reset got me out of the corporate mindset of business into being more of an individual. More headstrong in my actions. Stronger Chad, harder Chad. It also put up boundaries to keep me safe. Safe from heartache, trust and dependency on others. The first ten years were building blocks. I got married, started a family, opened up my own place and then some. The crash was hard. Lost my business and my family was right behind it waiting to fail along with it. Summer of 2021 is one I could do without. The in betweens were brutal. When you have it in your head that you’ve figured it all out you put yourself in grave danger when you find out you dont and it all collapses on top of you.

Polarization has always been the spine of my book. It’s a part of life. I linger too long in the dark instead of embracing the light. Both are necessary as long you acknowledge that there’s a solid life living in the middle as well as you can. Same as hot and cold, short or tall, sharp or dull. You can’t have one without the other.

You don’t get angry or upset at the weather when it’s 75°. But you need the 25° and the 125° to help you appreciate the middle. Your comfort zone.

I find myself in inclement weather patterns in my head all the time. I expect it to be 75° and sunny all day everyday. I take it personal if it’s not. Never you mind the fact that sometimes all it just takes a fan or a blanket to make it all ok again.

Also it’s not the end of the world if it should get too cold or if I’m sweating while sitting in the shade. Good weather eventually finds itself near.

Balance

Balance is my quest.

With balance comes

Peace

Peace resides within us

When we find balance.

Blah blah blah soon we will see Chad suntanning his perineum cliffside. Laugh at me. I’ve done it I don’t care.

Anyway

I’m interested to see what 9 days of observing my subconscious will divulge.

Utah is amazing. I’ve been around its block a few times but never stayed to see what she holds. We camped in canyons miles away from traffic lights, laughed over campfires overlooking acres of brush and rocks. I meditated while staring at a majestic rock jutting out of a lake, got misty standing next to a 130 foot canyon waterfall, cooked steaks while watching the sunset. Sipped coffee staring easterly over the Rockies as the sunset warmed our cold bones. Sought out big cats in Moab and decompressed to Prine crooning over a cheap Bluetooth speaker while a campfire kept my shoe soles hot. Weather hit 85° high in Escalante and we got nipply around 30° in a dispersed camp outside of Pagosa. Ate some pancakes at a local diner to warm up. Got to break out all my fun gear toys to play with at all our sites. I may do a small side review of my products used if anyone likes camping gear like I do.

My 9 day roommate is a 6’4” comedian, filled with dad jokes and dead pan humor. It was fun to watch people take him in. He gives off a small town country boy vibe and charm that he does purposefully I think for people to underestimate him. Offering a Starbucks employee an extra $5 spot if she wrote “daddy” on his cup and she did. He pretends to have slow wit. Don’t let him fool you.

We talked about old times and adventures in between long drives. If he had any faults it would be he really enjoys using the bathroom. He has the tendency to snore loudly which kept the apex predators away..

10/10 would do another adventure once his stomach gets better..

Highlights? Too many. Moab was majestic as always. Camping in the middle of nowhere is humbling.

Hanksville was a slight disappointment I wanted to see a certain stone tower and the ground was a tad too soft for my trailer to get out there. The positive side was we got to take a detour through capital reef which was amazing and then ascended 11,000 plus feet up Boulder mountain and then down the canyons that take you to Escalante where I had the best dirty chai of my life. We slept on the Hole in the road trail that extends 60 miles one way and took a trip to Lake Powell. Ate some bbq chicken tacos while we watched the sun bake the big lone rock in the lake. I’m particularly fond of this rock for no reason other than it’s just a cool ass rock in the middle of the lake. Breakfast we ate egg sandwiches with crispy bacon and bagels with cream cheese.

Evenings there were always campfires. As it should be.

Regardless of my adventures and fun I have to say coming back home to my family is always one of my favorite parts. I miss our party of three.

I enjoy bringing a companion along on these trips the drive can be exhausting and brutal. The more I do these trips the less driving I enjoy. I’ve managed to burn out the long hauler in me. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop soon but I was doing up to three of these a year. One big trip a year is sufficient with little trips in between. I still have my eye on Michigan Great Lakes and the Pacific Northwest. That last one will need a big fat airplane. I’m not driving that far unless I’m moving out there.

This was needed and it added some more life badges to my vest. Looking forward to the changes that it will help implement into my future spiritual journey.

Cheers

I leave for Utah in three days. Moab first I think and then it’ll be Hanksville and maybe Escalante. 27 hour drive to Moab from my little home here off of N main. I’ll be constructing a grazing table this Saturday morning and once I’m done we head west. I’ll be taking an old companion of mine who used to transport luggage with me up to all five floors of the Hyatt regency downtown in the early 90s. Life has a fun way building relationships with folk who you hit it off with immediately. Shane is just a good ol soul that makes me smile. We are going to really get to know each other again after 9 days of traveling and reflecting on the old days of flirting with front desk clerks and checking in B list celebrities from the 90s.

I’m extremely excited. It’s been almost 2 years since my last long trip. These can be exhausting. You can notch up almost 5-6k miles in 9 days. Sleeping in cold tents, desert winds and random apex predators sniffing your toes while you sleep. I would love to see a mountain lion. From at least 500 yards away.. pspspsps.

I found a pic online of a rock structure a couple of years ago in Utah and my brain said “we must go see this monument in person”. So away I go.

This is my passion. These are my dreams I chase. My dopamine, my high, my drug. The drive is part of the journey. Sometimes the roadside beauty is just as amazing as the main attractions. I love small town general stores, broken old gas stations and Navajo markets. Real tumbleweeds rolling along Route 66, rest stops surrounded by cacti.

I live for this stuff

I intend to hike, hover in a hammock and one random night I plan to hang and talk to the crows and natives 🍄‍🟫. I’ve done it once before out there. 10/10 recommend.

Shane if you’re reading this you’ll still have to get your own water.

Inside joke

Last time out west it was a tad chilly and snowy. Weather seems to be smiling favorably on us this time around. Fingers will remain crossed until arrival back home. Trailer is packed, truck has received all of its updates. The only city I have to really deal with is Atlanta. Once you get past Birmingham you could ride a skateboard all the way to AZ. No hills were planted in the Midwest. Gives those tornadoes a wide path to do their thing. Once you get outside of Little Rock there’s not too much to see that’s aesthetic to the passerby unless you like giant wind turbines that litter the highways along northern Texas. And maybe a whattaburger if you like mustard on your burger. Gas stations about every thirty miles as opposed to 2. Once you cross over into New Mexico you’ll begin to see random burnt out vehicles roadside I imagine the heat and dry climate plays hell on some old water pumps and engines. Drunk drivers mid day are abundant as well out there. Not much to do in rural New Mexico. Your first clue will be the dozens of redundant billboards dotting along the highways about DUIs. Northern AZ you get a real feel of what poverty can feel like. Old Native American reservations, multiple vehicles perched atop their permanent graves bricks in the front yards, trailers resting on the roadside with tires on the roof to keep the tin from blowing away. Again not much commerce out here unless you’re herding tumbleweeds. If you’re lucky you might have roadside stand within 10 miles of a tourist trap.

I’ve been through Utah three times but I’ve only spent two nights there. One night in Beaver, Utah in a cheap motel with a dried out pool and a breakfast buffet that had no eggs and another time I camped next to a gas station that looked like a flying saucer. Utah has an abundance of public land (for now). There are areas you can pull off the highway and camp as long as the wind doesn’t blow you back on the road. You think the weather gets wild here try driving while minding your own business in the middle of Utah, 95° sunny. Sky opens up and you get 2 inches of hail and the temp drops to 55°. 20 minutes later it’s back to 90° again and the highway is littered with trucks lying on their side. This is why Mormons don’t need caffeine. It gets exciting out there.

National parks will not be my theme. Not saying we won’t see one but my itinerary is back roads unplugged. I want to stay off your world for a few days. The weatherman has not been kind to me for camping here. I need to make peace with this drive. The trip to glacier broke my patience for driving long distance last time. With wrecks, construction and traffic I was delayed an extra 6 hours on an already long drive. Also willing to bet it thunderstormed for around 1000 miles. Kept me on my toes.

Not sure if we’ll push through nonstop I don’t try to be a cowboy I’ll pull over before I start hallucinating but I hope to make it to at least Little Rock before I need a break. If you’re looking for a safe spot to pull over for the evening I’d suggest Cracker Barrel. You won’t feel alone it’s a well known stopover for overlanders. Cracker Barrel’s are for the most part built in safe areas, surrounded by gas stations and commerce. The parking lot is quiet at night and breakfast is waiting on you when you wake up. The only thing missing is a shower. I’ve taken many a sink baths there. Walmart works too but imagine picking a Walmart in Berea as a place to stop for the night.. Hard pass.

Midwest route through I-70 I usually end up around St. Louis area. I prefer not to camp within 50 miles of St. Louis. The further away the better. If you can make it to Kansas then take a nap. It’s an 9 hour drive across Kansas and there’s nothing to keep you awake while you drive. You know that stretch of the I-85 between Spartanburg and Gaffney? Relatively flat, sparse trees? That’s Kansas on a good day for 400 miles. Sprinkle some random thunderstorms and tornadoes and you’re good to go. “Theres no place like home” – go to bed Dorothy you’re drunk. I’m showing my bias here. I’ve driven through Kansas about a dozen times. It just makes you appreciate Colorado more.

If you choose to partake in some legalized medicine in Colorado then I’d suggest not driving south through Texas on your way back. What’s legal in one state is a felony in Texas. The biggest asshole I’ve ever met was a cop in Texas. Not a good combination. I’m not a mule yall just letting you know what’s up.

I’m hoping for some clear skies and good vibes. My itinerary is loose as a goose and it’s intentional. If I saw snow or inclement weather I’d pull further south to AZ. If the whole Midwest went underwater I’d bring my beach towel. I’m just here to find my way.

Looking forward to some western sunsets, campfire coffee and conversations in the twilight. Maybe a med rare ribeye grilled, baked potato baking in the ash, cliff side overlooking Moab. I wouldn’t complain about that.

Gonna be a good trip yall. These are the memories that build you. I’ll try not to find a Grazeland location around Moab but no promises..

Peace and elbow grease.

My goal is to type 1000 plus words when I write. I don’t count them but my previews let me know how many words, characters and blocks I use. 1000 just seems like a solid number to get my point across. I usually write from my phone but on occasion I’ll use my laptop specifically bought to write with. It’s just a habit of mine to use my phone since I seem to have it in my hands 75% of my day.

I’m currently wrestling with my addiction to this little texter and scroller.

I’ve been writing for almost 2 years now although I’ve ramped it up a bit over the last 8–10 months. My noise canceling headphones have done some amazing work with my focus. No, I’ve never been diagnosed with ADHD in all honesty I’ve probably been to the doctor three times in the last 30 years so I haven’t been diagnosed with anything but spend a day with me and tell me what you think. Writing pins me down in a good way. When I write I put on some soft frequencies and let my thumbs go crazy. I rarely have a subject line I’ll sometimes begin to write and then I’ll go back and rearrange my thoughts.

I just write what comes out.

Often times my daughter will have to poke me to let me know it’s time to take her to school. I might write for up to three hours if I’m in my own little meditative world. Being half blind comes in handy. I can see a gnat’s lips close up but I can’t see my feet without my glasses. Unfortunately I can’t see close up when I wear my glasses so when I write I’m hyper focused because I can barely see or hear a damn thing other than what’s directly in front of me. Quite the optometry paradox.

Focus 2.0

Writing is a part of my meditation. It lowers the survival mode in my brain. The more I write the more things I let go. I truly believe writing down what’s on your mind is the best therapy. When it’s out there for you to read it’s easier to reckon with.

When I’m done writing I go for a walk. I wear the same headphones although I don’t keep them on noise cancellation because I need to have some awareness when I’m walking so I don’t become a speed bump. When you’ve hiked as many miles as I have you get a thing about looking over your shoulder to make sure there’s nothing big and furry walking behind you. Sometimes trees fall out of nowhere too. Once you’ve had one or two drop near you it will keep you on your toes.

When I walk I’ll go into a light meditative status for about half an hour usually after my first mile but never my last. Walking is a great way to clear your mind while also burning 100 calories per mile. I walk at a 15:00 to 16:00 minute pace. I try to put in at least 3-4 miles when I walk. It’s probably my favorite routine. I used to run the same mileage but my body told me it was time to stop. Maybe for good. When your body talks you listen.

I have two days off a week and if I’m home both days I’ll set aside 20 minutes to rest. That may be a quick nap or just covering my eyes and lying on my back. Bedtime routine for me is usually in bed by 8:30 and asleep by 9:15. My routine includes headphones and a specific playlist of music I listen to every single night. I allow this time to clear my head before bed. I’m done with waking up with bad things on my mind. I reckon with them at night in a casual way. I go out of my way to make peace with my day. If it’s a bad one I focus on making tomorrow a better one. If it’s a good one and I get more of these now than I used to I give myself a mental thumbs up.

I make it a point in my conscious mind that the last thing I think about before I go lights out is something positive. It may be an old camping trip I did three years ago or something a customer said about my business while eating in my shop. I give my brain a nice pat on the back, I physically smile and then I turn to sleep.

I shared these routines with you to give you some insight as to how often I meditate. I’ve spent the last 4 years of my life for the pursuit of level headedness and repairing my mental health.

Self evaluations

Meditation

Cleanse

Cleansing my body and mind of chemical toxins and mental ones.

Four years of reckoning from 30 years of self abuse.

Four years of speaking to and trying to read my self- consciousness aloud. The last year alone at least 1 hour a day of meditation and reckoning.

Quite the devotion if you ask me. Like any other practice if you do it enough it becomes part of you. The only thing that I’ve accomplished more in the past year would be charcuterie boxes. Both I have absorbed over the last few years. I can pretty much charcuterie just about anything now.

Go me

Charcuterie isn’t a big deal to me it never has. I’m making homemade, edible jigsaw puzzles in a box.

But

Take the first few I did when I started them and compare them now to what I can make now. There’s no comparison. Practice, practice, honing and research. I applied to this practice every single day. You do the same thing on a daily basis you get better at it. Especially if you focus on your improvement. I can say I’ve done this with meditation and writing.

I’ve logged some hours man. I do this to be the best composition for the people who love and support me.

I use a little self hypnosis at night to prepare myself for the following day. When I focus on the smiling things at night it sets me up for my algorithms the next day.

My mind lately has been on building my own physical and mental algorithms.

Algorithms in layman terms are “essentially a series of well-defined instructions that, when followed in a specific order, lead to a desired outcome”

You have them on your social media scrolling routines, your feeds, reels, advertisements. Facebook doesn’t create them you do for the most part. If you post “I love vacuums! as your status update on fb I’m willing to bet you’ll get some random advertisements for Roombas, carpet cleaners, Hoovers in the next hour or two. I like the Atlanta Braves, lifelong fan. I don’t engage in sport pages they annoy me but I’ll click on espn to see the scores and highlights of their games and my fb page wil start to slowly blend in all the Braves pages. If I engage they’ll stick around if I scroll past they’ll eventually fade and another interest of mine will take place.

If I opened up my search bar on IG right now all of my squares and rectangles will be filled with glimpses of camping vehicles, music videos and pics of Utah and Colorado because I’m going there next month and I’ve entered it as a keyword in my search bar. I built those. I’ll also get memes and some women bouncing around in bikinis that don’t quite fit because IG has my personal info. They have my date of birth and gender so they have a tendency to assume I’ll like these other things. They aren’t wrong mind you I just don’t search for these types things out just like I can’t help slowing my truck down when I come across a car wreck. I don’t wish to engage in these or I’ll be up to my neck in it. It’s not as fun as it may sound..

Facebook is easy to assign your algorithms. It takes all your posts and keywords, your comments on other pages, friends posts and engagements and any affiliations you may have with politics. They love when you engage in conflict. It sells Facebook tickets. Algorithms aren’t always things you like to see in all honesty I believe most of them are created to pull you in and not the opposite. If you complain about a drive-thru fast food experience you’re likely to find 20 McDonalds ads pop up in your feed. If you say you hate Musk you’ll get flooded with EV advertising and forums with discussions about burning Teslas and then you may get something about the old big hair band Tesla coming to a venue near you.

If you talk about an actor I imagine you’ll see a reel of an old movie scene with them appearing in it. I brought up a topic about my old Nissan 200sx and I’ll be damned if I didn’t see a pic of a similar one on fb.

There are billions of options of videos, pages, posts, reels, topics and opinions online that you are choosing consciously and subconsciously to fill your up social media scrolling gaps. Your social media scrolling is your’s and your’n alone. It’s scripted. You wrote it whether you meant to or not. Even your news feeds. You’re gong to read and hear exactly what you want to and then some on the opposing side .

Insert tunnel vision

You’re creating your own online reality with what you’re comfortable and what you like to engage in. Does this sound familiar with the subject of my last few posts? I hope so because it’s relative.

This can be unhealthy to some of us who get caught up in “these trying times” or “the new normal” I don’t engage in most of these anymore. I used too quite a bit. Current times have a way of shooting arrows of distraction and chaos in our already weary and over stimulated heads. It takes over our peace of minds. We allow it to with open arms and tablets.

Even work things, my professional page is filled with charcuterie and food pics. That’s tame compared to my personal one but I can only take so many charcuterie videos they are all literally the same. Charcuterie art has peaked we’re just moving things around differently on the platter. Also algorithms can be linked by annual or seasonal pop ups. I get the same charcuterie memes seasonally. Every Halloween I’ll get tagged in the same 4 Halloween charcuterie pics. I love you guys but I spend enough time doing chadcuterie in real life. I prefer to turn it off when I’m home. If I had the same amount of you actually buy my boxes as you tag me in posts I could retire.

Sorry that was a cheap shot. I’m working on that too.

I’m sure by now most of us are aware that our phones do listen to what we say and what we do. We blame it on Apple, androids, medias, politicians, demons and angels but we are the hosts. We are curating it. If you don’t want McDonald’s advertisements blowing up your feed then don’t eat there. Don’t post about it or anything about fast food places. I wouldn’t bring up Grimace or clowns holding hamburgers because algorithms are smarter than you think. We can also pick up them up just by driving by or near one.

Is there a musical artist you don’t like? Don’t talk about them online. Don’t engage on a post that they are mentioned because you’ll land on that algorithm. If you say “I can’t stand ________!” Welp you just invited them into your feed. You did this. Not Zuck he just supplies the grid.

You’re moving the chess pieces all on your own.

I left that part about the artist blank. Had I thrown a name in there it would be in my feed soon. Algorithms move place to place on frequencies. Just like we do. I get quite a few pop ups related to my blogs because the internet all comes together one way or another.

Here’s some positives about algorithms, you can control them. You have absolute control over your algorithms. If you’re like certain reels, forums and TikTok videos you can react and engage with them to keep them around. You can also block them if you don’t. Or just scroll on. Dont like seeing a certain page? Hide it. Do you keep seeing that same page or similar ones? Most likely you engaged on a similar one or you it’s closely linked to another interest of yours. You may love football but hate the Gamecocks because you’re a Clemson fan but you’ll never clear your feed of USC dander because they are linked. Polarization is a part of your algorithms. Man that’s a whole ‘nother topic I may try to consider but I may not here. Politics are the same thing. If you’re far left you’re going to get bombarded with far right extremism. If you engage. If you don’t like Musk you’ll still get him in your face and feed because you’ve most likely engaged in subject matter that he was involved in. Not only is he now living in your head he’s living on your feed. We do love to post about things we dislike in here.

If you’re pro something and feel strongly about it you’ll be handed the other side in your lap to deal with too. If you engage, you see an opinion you find completely ridiculous or wrong (in your opinion) and remark. You just invited that other person’s opinion and pov into your algorithm. Don’t get upset. You did it not the evil Zuck empire. As I said he just paints the grid. You’re moving chess pieces.

Some of us don’t pay attention to the walls we build around our media algorithms as we build them brick by brick. We get caught up in the ongoings of our handhelds and our perceptions begin to reflect that. Then they absorb it completely unless you pull out in time. Most of us aren’t paying attention enough to see it. It’s our own little social media reality we’ve created.

The more that I study and absorb the theory that we create our own realities the more I compare my existence to that of a Sim or a outside spectator of our culture and environment. The more I go down that rabbit hole the more I analyze myself as a computer host rather than a bundle of nerves, muscle, bone and organs.

If you pick up a new hobby or skill your brain is essentially downloading new information into you. Just like a new app. If you’re learning a new skill your brain begins to slowly download your new app to absorb all the rules, instructions of how to play the game (level of skill). How you retain it would depend on how much effort it takes to download (remember) or how much (muscle) memory it requires before you are comfortable using it without outside assistance.

Sometimes we get overwhelmed, memory gets janky and we need a reset. Whether that means a day of “self care” or a vacation to unplug.

*hits reset button

We have built in calculators. Some of us better than others. We have Google too when we have to remember something to recite or recall. Navigation built in although most of us can’t find our asses without a digital map nowadays. Myself included.

We of course all have our own volume levels, caps lock when we yell and space bars when we hesitate..

It’s easy to make these comparisons. Our brains are computers. You get the point I’m trying to make. You’re using your built in cameras right now 👀

They’re taking millions of pictures in your mind as we speak. Your brain is filtering out most of it, adding pics to your memory storage and pushing it into your iCloud.

I’ve hit some major highs and lows in my 53 years. I seem to recall the lows more than highs I suppose because happy things don’t leave scars. The past few months when I noticed my mental health revolving around the negative energy and thoughts surrounding me I decided to shake up my own mental and physical algorithms.

I made a list of things I like and things I don’t. I made another list of habits that are essential to me and ones that keep me orbiting around being an asshat.

And I merged them together.

I started creating a healthier algorithm for myself.

Real life is full of algorithms some obvious some not so much because they may be more mental than physical.

Here’s an easy example: my wife and I are looking for a future vehicle for our daughter. We are both fond enough of Subaru Outbacks and Crosstreks. When we started shopping on marketplace, I say shopping but it’s browsing we are in no hurry, I’d have a few in my marketplace feed for about two days before my entire feed became Subarus. Outbacks, Crosstreks for the most part and then following not far behind Forresters and Ascents. Algorithms are like Velcro y’all they aren’t one sided and they’ll pick up some similar things of interest along the way. Since I was looking at wagon style and all small SUVs I started seeing Rav 4s, Ford Escapes and some old Honda pilots. It opened my horizons to a few more options. Good job Al! We’ve been looking for about two months. For the past two months I’ve seen many, many Subarus on the road, parked in lots, sitting in driveways and of course ads out the wazoo on fb and IG. I doubt there was a huge fire sale on Subarus this year or that they became extremely popular recently they’ve been around for quite some time. My mental algorithms have kicked in. Your brain engages with what’s on your mind so now when a Subaru passes me or vice versa my brain clicks and points – “There’s one!”

Mine also does this with Tacomas as I drive one. It does it with roof top tents, campers and Tundras because I’ve always wanted one but $65k sticker prices can kiss my ass. If I pass ten I’ll see at least 9. I’ll acknowledge it without acknowledging it. It’s a part of my current algorithm. If you add a camper top to a jacked up tundra that’s gonna be a real life pop up ad for me.

Restaurants are too. I’m a “foodie” and my career revolved around food and consumerism so I’ll stare at new concepts being constructed and I’ll judge their themes and food. I drive by a hundred different buildings on Lauren’s daily and I will not be able to recall quite a few of them if they aren’t a part of my algorithms.

Vaccuum repairs?

Insurance companies Jesus they’re everywhere but I don’t even give them a second look. Nail salons? There are about 30 within walking distance from my work. I couldn’t tell you the name of a single one. Hair dressers? Have you seen my hairstyle? I drive by these daily without notice. They don’t pertain to me so my mind filters them out of my daily algorithm. Barbers I notice. I have a beard.

Speaking of, bald men with beards are a part of my algorithm. Can’t help but notice when a slight doppelgänger is in your viewing area.

I’m hyper aware of crowded places and shitty parking. Those are algorithms I avoid.

Music is a simple algorithm. You scroll through your musical feed until you find a (page) station you enjoy.

Think about the times you had a significant other break up with you. The whole “everything reminds me of them!” is relevant because your life mostly revolved around them and your shared algorithms with each other. Experiences, places you visited, friends and new hobbies you absorbed. You separate and now you drive around and hear a song that triggers their memory so you immediately change the station, you change your commute to work if it happens to pass by the coffee shop where you had your first date or you stop going places because they still hang out there. You are purposely changing your algorithms to remove them from your life and memory.

Been there done that.

We get your point so far Chad.

Our own Algorithms are perceptions and how we engage with them.

My morning algorithm for the last 7 months or so were filled with doom scrolling, reading reviews online, consumer opinions and studying competition. After breakfast it became idiot drivers, long loading traffic lights, broken turn signals and my dashboard clock that seemed to push me to hurry everywhere I went. My daily algorithms I found myself disliking the general public. It’s nothing personal it’s just no one has a sense of awareness anymore because life starts and ends with cell phones these days. I’m no different than anyone else for this although when I’m out and about I’m a survival enthusiast so I’m sizing everyone up as mall shooters or fbi agents following me around because of my Google searches.

Now I play a game called NPCs (non player characters) where anyone that’s doing the 100 meter mosey in front of I observe them as a player inserted to either slow me down or they’re just a construct of my imagination. I’ve discussed my newfound affinity for how we are apart of multiple realities and our brains create our surroundings like a very advanced Sims game. I can’t say that’s 💯 where I am at the moment but it’s very interesting the things you begin to notice should you do. There’s too many blips, flips, fluffs, puffs and whats going on around us right now to ignore it. I’m fascinated by it. I’ve told my wife for years I live in a Truman show because whenever I need to get somewhere in a hurry every single obstacle that’s possible obstructs my journey from point A to point B. The mountains feel like Fiji to me for the last 6 months between the hurricanes and now fires add road collapses and weather. If you get bored look at the weather on Sunday and Mondays the last 3 months I bet you’ll see around 4 sunny days combined.

Where was I? NPCs. I’m not saying that I’m surrounded by a bunch of souless characters or robots everyone has their own realities but sometimes I do feel like I’ve created a few with my mind. We all have stereotypes around us I often times think I’ve constructed them in my mind. You expect people that look a certain way to act a certain way. You’ve never seen a blue haired great grandmother pulling into a parking spot in a Dodge Ram 2500 or Jeep Rubicon have you? And then get out and walk 4 mph to the grocery store. She’s going to pop out of Buick Encore, walker in hand and proceed to spend 18 minutes walking to the entrance. Good chance my truck is right behind her as she walks in the middle of the parking lot. On Wednesdays there will be 49 of her. Gotta save that 5% at Publix. I never took this NPC thing seriously until about 2 months ago when I went to Target. While I was shopping for patio goodies for my shop I went to two different Targets three times in one week. I recalled seeing an older lady that resembled an old friend’s mother. She was shopping in the little area where for some reason the home goods are pricier. Maybe it’s a designer collection Im not sure. I always walk through it because I enjoy the energy of that little area (yeah I do this a lot) I wasn’t sure it was her and she wouldn’t know me had I introduced myself so I acknowledged the moment and went about my business. When I went to the Target in Greer I saw what looked to be the same exact person. I laughed at myself thinking that this was just a stereotype of what I would expect to see in this section. Not any different than seeing a young mother with two kids piled into a cart in the baby clothes section right by the cheap jewelry. Which I’m willing to bet you’ll see every time you go. It was when I went back the next week and saw what I would swear was the same woman. Same area. Pushing her cart the EXACT SAME DIRECTION AND AISLE that I decided to leave. This was about the time my brain screamed “Houston we have NPCs”

I’m lightly joking about this declaration in fact I was smiling when I left Target but I’m still looking for the game boy cartridge shoved up my rear. There are no such thing as coincidences.

Also speaking of stereotypes you’ll never see a bunch of bumper stickers on a the back of a $75k plus car. Ever see a “coexist” sticker on a BMW X5? Or a Ford F-150 for that matter. But that’s another stereotype.

My stress level went down and my coping level leveled a bit when I treated the general public as NPCs. I’m not treating them like they don’t exist. I can feel them coughing on me and sometimes I accidentally run into their shopping carts but it put me in the mindset that their actions shouldn’t absorb my actions. Their energy shouldn’t affect mine. Once I plugged that into my mind my algorithms changed.

Morning commute

I changed my focus from traffic and stoplights to engaging with my daughter more. I rarely have the stereo on and my phone is face down. My eyes are on the road and also on the homes I drive past on the way. Greenville for all of its faults is aesthetic and surrounded by flora especially now spring has sprung. I keep my speed level and easy. If someone tries to kill me with their driving prowess I don’t engage. I don’t even acknowledge their existence once I pass them. If I’m at a long traffic stop I get more time with my daughter after a decade of being an absent parent from working all the time.

I still get to work in one piece. My deli opens on time and my blood pressure thanks me for the new new algorithm/ perception I’ve created. Worse case scenario my potato salad gets served an hour later. Certainly not bad enough to keep my middle finger exposed to the elements. You could process this algorithm pattern as a perception also. It’s all relative.

I’ve changed my patterns of how I shop for my deli. I’ve always been a set up your station and run to the store before the rush. I would hit restaurant depot at 9 and swing by Costco right at 10am along with every elderly person in the upstate. Depot was always packed and understaffed when I went in I suppose most service industry people’s schedule aligns with mine it would make sense. It’s always an adventure when I go. In my head as soon as I leave for the store, I would begin a mental countdown. Deli opens at 10, it’s 9:45 I’m 7 carts deep in line and my cashier looks like a WWI war widow. I’m not moving anytime soon and I still have Costco to contend with. I can feel the negativity and stress rise in my blood. I’ve put myself in hurry mode. Something I’m very prone to. I’m angry with the establishment for putting me behind in a situation that I not only created for myself but I’ve put it on repeat for the last year.

It got too much for me and one day I got caught up in a few early boxes and had to put my shopping on hold. I was fortunate enough to not have a rigid inventory that morning so I put off my shopping until after lunch. I left for the store at 2:45 and breezed through depot and Costco in less than an hour. I repeated this for a couple of weeks and changed my routine. My daily algorithms responded in kind. Traffic got lighter, people were less peopling, less chaos and more smiles. Usually when I returned to work I’d have a story to tell about someone pissing me off. Now I go about my business. Another part of my algorithms seemed to be to look for things like that so I could aggressively engage.

The things that piss me off.

That chip I’ve always carried needed to go.

Algorithms are a step by step process or instruction of how you do things. Whether you’re making a vinaigrette or tying your shoes. Often times it’s routine.

I was doing things that piss me off on a daily basis. Routinely

And then getting mad at it.

I changed my algorithms. I changed my routines. All the while creating a new perception of how I see things. Things work well in 3s.

I implemented this as I do the same with my online algorithms. I don’t engage with politics, I don’t argue online anymore. I unfollowed and deleted quite a few triggers online. I quieted a few “friends”. I don’t read online news or watch their videos.

They sell fear and chaos. You don’t have to be a conspiracy theorist to see that.

I ran into a fb friend that works at Costco who remarked about my late afternoon new schedule. I told her I was finding new peace with myself. I had changed my algorithms.

We repeat the same things everyday it’s a part of our algorithms. Even when they don’t align with us because they’ve been in our algorithms for so long we don’t recognize it as something that we should reckon with. I personally no longer want to deal with things that upset me on a daily basis.

It’s my day and no one else’s.

It’s my life and no one else’s.

I’ve changed my morning routine around so I can jump start new algorithms. Once again -Routines are algorithms. If you feel like you’re in a rut, change something you do first thing in the morning. Even if it’s “f#% it I’m gonna do 10 jumping jacks” or sit on the other side of the sofa. Changing your patterns will jumpstart a new algorithm if you allow it to. That is if you don’t like the current ones you’ve built. Which I did not.

You’d be surprised at how one small glitch in your morning routine will realign your brain waves. We aren’t meant to be domesticated into certain routines. Or me at least.

Changing your social media algorithms helped me out too. I don’t enjoy reading political rhetoric at 5am. I don’t want to read about a skyscraper collapsing 8000 miles away 45 seconds after I wake up. For some reason there’s a large handful of you on here that really enjoy sharing bad news. I found myself doing the same for the longest time.

What upsets you or triggers you online will be outside waiting on you as soon as you leave your home. You’ve made it a part of your algorithms. Internet is reality for many of us. I guess that’s what I’ve been trying to say from the beginning. Political opinions have become a lifestyle for some of you. Virtue signaling for things you’ve never seen or experienced first hand. These are my triggers which is the only reason why I singled them out.

Morals and scruples are important to the fabric of our society. Just don’t keep tripping over your toes while you’re trying to show everybody how good you are at showcasing it. I’ve been there folks. I’m no better. I’m just trying to figure it all out for myself. When I write these I’m sharing what works for me. I know yall hate/love this word but we are all snowflakes. What works for me may not work for you.

I’m not selling courses.

I’m just trying to find my peace of mind.

Cheers

I’m currently juggling some different perspectives of religions, philosophies and psychologies. I’m miles down rabbit holes, conspiracies, big feet, aliens and pyramids (which are finally coming to light). I don’t visit these different levels of theories with psychosis blinders I’m a student of curiosity. Call it expanding my understanding of things I’ve dismissed my entire life. I enjoy turning my own little world into an episode of the twilight zone. I keep an open mind on most of what I come across. I get pulled into some fun things like the lost civilization of Tartaria not so much the Atlantis version. Maybe I just haven’t gotten there yet. I love to read about ufos and alien life I’ve said all along they come from the ocean. Did you know dolphins can talk? I’ll even go down some good theories of flat earth. No I’m not a flat earther it’s an entertaining argument to hear some other perspectives. They all seem to cross paths when you go deep enough. A lot of them always come back some old age wool being pulled over our eyes. The only thing I’ll say with zero pause or hesitation is I don’t and never will trust anyone in a high level position of government, large corporate owned media, church hierarchy or a famous actor who feels the need to push an agenda or a product.

If any of this triggers you I’d suggest closing this blog up now.

I have a healthy respect for authority when used to keep balance and nothing else. Don’t let people hurt other people or steal their things. That’s enough for me. Thanks for playing. Stay out of my personal life.

As far as spirituality I’m probably much more spiritual minded than most of you would think of me. I don’t believe in coincidence and I do believe in miracles. I’ve seen enough with my own two eyes to know that things come and go around for a reason. I’m probably not reading the same words out of the books you are but as I always say it’s the same people just different realities.

I’ve experienced some interesting things the since my little “awakening” on top of my truck on a little island south of Beaufort. Sometimes things find you when you least expect it. I’ve tried to write what I experienced that night but I haven’t quite grasped it and that’s fine because I don’t think it’s really even started yet.

One day I’ll put it into words. That day won’t be today.

I’ve been reading about quantum physics and or mechanics . I’m not smart enough to understand all the details in fact I feel like a chimp with an iPhone when I try to elaborate but when you take in enough information you at least get your mind to wrap around the subject. I know more than I did. Simple enough. I’ve been studying theory on how we are absorbed in billions of different realities, higher planes, creating our world from the reflections of our subconscious.

In easy layman’s terms, we are writing our own stories as we go along. Sort of what I’m doing here.

What you want to see is what you get. You build fears and boundaries from your self perceived experiences and our little brains keep us safe and warm from all the fun megabyte downloads that we may incur should we should we ever get to decalcify that ol pineal gland and or what the “mystics” call the third eye. Think of a perfectly shaped pine cone if that helps.

You think therefore you are. You aren’t a person who has a spirit. You’re a spirit wearing a human costume. An amazing one but still just a suit of flesh, nerves, hair and bone.

Energy.

As everything is.

Which is why I’ve been referring to frequencies, hertz levels, sounds. Astral projection, telepathy. I haven’t attempted either of these and I haven’t seen any living proof of such things but hell if the CIA practices it why can’t I?

Six weeks ago I paid little attention to these things. I do my little meditation sessions, I’d “time travel” as I refer to it when I’d revisit some childhood memories. I’ve been doing this for a year. Ive done morning walks for the last three years which is also a form of meditation. What I’ve managed to experience with this practice is a self hypnosis pattern. I’m able to release myself from my subconscious at times not all the time and not every time. I see and experience some visions (mostly dream state) nothing Dead Zone like, no visions of alien invasions, great floods or missing persons. Just a heightened level of awareness of my subconscious.

We almost separate into two thoughts. Almost but not even close yet. If that makes sense. I know it can be done. Im not there.

I’ve seen some glitches in things I used to take for granted.

*exhales

I don’t have the energy to write all of this out at the moment nor do I have enough data for it to make sense if I did.

Just imagine if reality is what you have programmed it to be. Or part of it because it’s filled with outside influences. Or distractions as I call it. What if you create your reality from all the experiences your mind has created for you? Your reality is just a regurgitation of self imposed memories, traumas of childhoods, relationships and other happenstances. Lost? Man me too.

When I hit my issues and perceptions of failures from my relationship with my dad during a self hypnosis tour one night it opened a door. Or as I call them downloads. You don’t get a small light that turns on your brain starts downloading data like an app on 5G. Logic and understanding streams like your connected to a cosmic Wi-Fi. Fun term for intuition. Your intuition is the real you trying to enter the chat.

I’m not good at writing what I’m trying to write..

Let’s jaunt sideways for a moment.

You’ve all heard my dislike for my neighbor that resides to the right of me. Neighbors that is, his wife is about as cuddly as a pissed off porcupine too. We moved into this house four years ago. We are renters for a while until we decide where we want to plant for good. It’s a free feeling I have no interest into being tied down anywhere right now. I’m in a state of roaming thoughts and vibes at the moment. When we moved here I’d heard some not so positive things about our new/old neighbors. They had a tendency for being surly and grumpy. They were hoarders and a little behind the times. Your first impression of these folk would be they are indeed stuck a little behind the times. They have multiple cars that rotate in and out of the shaded driveway that my neighbor seems to constantly have at least one hood open to the elements. That doesn’t really bother me my stepfather had an affinity for buying broken down old cars and kept quite a few in the backyard. They keep a lot of junk around the yard. Mostly half covered by a dilapidated privacy fence in the backyard. Old oil drum, car parts “they looked like tombstones in our yard 🎶 “ comes to mind when I see it. David Allen Coe was played quite a bit in my childhood days growing up in Piedmont. My parents used to have an old oil drum in the backyard. I had to sand it, prime it and paint it about half a dozen times. Idling wasn’t allowed in my parent’s household. Leaning meant cleaning. I can count at least four cars camping around their house right now. Tom, my stepfather had a chevrolet pickup, two comets and a 1940s something or another sorry yall I’m not a car person. He had a 65 lemans before that car. I totaled it while buying tickets for David Lee Roth and Poison. He also kept quite a few things in the backyard. Tom liked to buy things he saw value in. There is absolutely no knock or shade perceived on my stepfather while I make my connections here. I’m just telling a story. I loved Tom with all of my heart. It just took us some time to figure each other out. Tom was a patriot, a war veteran. He kept old glory 🇺🇸 flying off the porch of our house. Tom loved our country.

When we first moved here we got along ok with our neighbors. We were respectful, kept to ourselves. I’d talk to Don while I worked on my bus and he’d work on his truck. He would smoke some cheese and drop some off to the wife. I didn’t think he was that bad. I mind my own business. I was raised to.

Unfortunately some of my other neighbors don’t share that point of view and one of the them that moved here around the same time as us must’ve called the city on them about their yard, cars or flags I’m not sure but ol Don thought it was me. One day he decided to stomp over to the edge of his yard on a cool January day while I was cleaning out my truck and start screaming at me and calling me a word that Samuel Jackson uses quite a bit. He apparently thought I was the culprit of the phone calls to the city. I don’t even know how to call “the city”. Don is 67 years of age. He’s had a stroke or four. He’s about three inches taller than me but if we had a physical confrontation it would not go well for Don. His mind is a tad soft I think dementia has found its way into his head. I was in a no win situation. If I were to respond to Don as I’ve been primed to do from several misshaps in my youth I would’ve been painted a bully which is fun because if you knew my neighbor you would see know he is the epitome of what a bully truly is. I had a few choice words with him and left the experience with an unhealthy feeling of infuriation. Closure was difficult for me. I let a 67 year old asshat get in my head. At the time I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t let it go. The things going through my mind were unhealthy.

I have quite the imagination.

I haven’t said a word to them since that day.

My neighbors like flags. Really like them. They have at least 4 of them displayed in their yard. Three Trumps and a confederate flag.

Let me start off by saying this. Flags don’t trigger me like they do some. To each their own. I was raised by conservatives, I’m born and brought up in the deep south. I came from a region where kids wore shirts draped in the confederate flags, drew it on their notebooks and if we played civil war you want to know how many wanted to play for the south team? I’m not on here to chat about different philosophies about why the war was fought. I wasn’t around at the time. Again to each their own I’m so past trying to align myself with others who can’t agree I move on to doing me. Call it heritage call it anything you want but if you’re from California (where Don was born) there’s only one reason why you’d have that flag in your front yard. And the fact that he planted one right where I can see it when I park my truck tells you that he’s doing it to antagonize me. And for awhile it worked.

I recognize two flags in this state. American flag and the state flag. I honor one because that’s how I was raised. I have my father’s flag protected and honored in my home. Fly whatever flag you like. Do it for honor and glory. Not for aggression. It’s not my prerogative to acknowledge them.

Listen I’ve made it a point to not speak ill of anyone anymore but survey says

*ding!

*board flips over

“Don’s a piece of shit”

Crowd claps

He has some wonderful bumper stickers on his candy van that read “fuck Biden” “Joe and the Ho got to go”. My daughter got to see this stickers on the way to her middle school. It’s not the politics mind you. It’s the hatred.

Ok enough energy sucking on Don.

Let’s make the self created reality connection.

Are you ready?

My neighbors are a reflection of my life in Piedmont.

I live next door to my childhood memories from Piedmont.

Could you believe that I may have created this reality out of my mind? I’m sorry, my subconscious?

I was not brought into Piedmont via ticker tape parade. I was dragged to Piedmont from a split family/divorce that would shake my world up permanently.

8 year old culture shock. My childhood changed realities.

I hated Piedmont with every ounce of energy I could carry with me when we first moved there. Tom had a small house with a big yard full of hoarded parts and discarded junk. The day we arrived to his house the first words out of my mouth were “why is there so much junk in the yard?” My mother immediately slapped my leg. Not sure she’d ever done that before.

My first impression of Piedmont was well on its way.

I was isolated for the most part the few summers. My siblings were off doing their things the divorce really shook up the family. Most of my time was spent alone reading. Piedmont was a culture shock for me. I’ve written about it in a few blogs I don’t wish to focus on it at this time I may later down the road if I find it necessary.

I’ve talked about the daily bullying I received on the school bus, my dissociation with school.

I never received an explanation. One day I’m part of my regular family residing at an apartment complex. Next day I’m in Piedmont living next to a highway. No one told me what was going on. I wasn’t privy to the details.

No one EVER told me what was going on. Of course I figured it out but it took some time and some math that an 8 year old kid shouldn’t have had to do on his own.

Wild.

Wild that I just wrote it off that way as a child.

Repressed much?

Let’s connect some dots shall we?

My parents in Piedmont were

Tom and Peggy.

My current neighbors are

Don and Peggy

Tom met my mother when he moved back from California.

Don is from California.

Tom had up to four cars in our driveway and yard. Don has four cars in his yard.

Tom had an old Chevrolet pickup.

Guess who else has one in their yard as we speak?

I’m staring at their old rusted oil drum in their backyard. Broken old shed. Same kind that I used to rummage through in my parents backyard. I’d watch his wife Peggy meticulously sweep the front porch every day. My mom wouldn’t allow a twig on our porch. Peggy walks around the yard diligently picking up small bits of litter and leaves just like my Peggy.

Don called me a motherfucker. My trigger word is indeed that particular word because I was often called that by one of my biggest childhood bullies on the bus. Who’s name also started with a D.

When I had my coffee shop, Tom would always come by with food or pastries for me to share at the shop. God I miss that man.

Don would bring cheese.

Tom and I had our last real clash while digging up a trench for a septic tank. Don and I clashed over a cement trench that brought more water into his yard.

Got dang Peggy just got a new haircut last week. It’s a style my mother wore for years.

My Piedmont childhood trauma is right next door to me. It’s been there the whole time.

I could never quite figure out why almost 70 year old shithead could get into my head so easily and not be able to shake him off. I’d pull up to my house with my hands gripping the wheel. I wanted that house and everything sitting in it and around it erased. I fantasized about dragging my neighbor by the back of the neck around the block making him apologize to everyone he’d been a bully to.

Why would someone like that stick to me in such away.

Because I fucking created it.

You can feel my emotions while I write this. I’ve been trying to recognize certain words I use too often and push them away.

Not today.

This all hit me last night before bed. My family and I were discussing some things about my childhood in Piedmont and then our neighbor was brought up as a comparison to a few things that reminded me of my time there and I looked up and literally said

“Holy shit”

I had no clue as to what a confederate flag was until I moved to Piedmont. Sorry Piedmont don’t take this the wrong way but you didn’t represent yourself too well in the early 80s.

I was isolated for the first couple of years when we moved. Only one friend for years.

I stayed isolated from just about everyone when we moved to this house for about three years.

These are just a few “coincidences” I came up with on the spot.

I’ve previously mentioned how I feel about coincidences.

My first few years in Piedmont were full of struggles. More than I care to share. I didn’t fit the Piedmont mold at the time as it went by I got more acclimated and made some lifelong friends but Piedmont, the town itself never resonated with me. As soon as I was old enough I left without saying goodbye. This is not a knock on the town of Piedmont or the people who have and do reside there. It’s my own reality.

Piedmont is a big part of me. Take that as you will.

Don and Peggy don’t necessarily represent my parents in any way. There’s not even a remote possibility other than how they are reflected in some of my memories of what I experienced. My mother changed quite a bit when we moved to Piedmont. She became a different person. Maybe that’s where she found herself I can’t tell you. I feel like she had Piedmont take a part of her. As did I. That town is like no other.

Take that as you will. Again I’m not throwing shade I spent a decade there I’ve earned my word.

Don represents everything I didn’t like about Piedmont. The bullying, ignorance, backroad politics. My reflections of my neighbors are moving backwards with my personal experience with Piedmont and my relationship with my stepfather. Tom and I started off rough but we figured it out. Don and I started off cordial. Now I wait in anticipation for the coroner to arrive at his house.

Tom and I may not have agreed on all politics but he had love for humanity and people’s rights. Tom had a big heart. I got some of that from him.

It may be hard to pick up on here from my words but I “turned down” the volume in my head about the noise my neighbors were causing me. I rarely acknowledge them. Big privacy fence serves as a symbol of that.

It may be my imagination but every time I see Don now he seems like he’s slowly fading away. Not in health (but yeah that too) but more of his physical energy and appearance. Almost life he’s zombifying right in front of me.

*shrugs

Piedmont is 20 feet away from me. I can’t describe to you the comparison of energy I get from it in words. I almost drove to Piedmont yesterday to see how accurate it was. I felt like I needed to close a chapter in my head that I left open.

I still may choose to do so. I think it would be beneficial. I don’t think there’s any attachments there anymore. Parents have moved and passed. My close friends have departed and moved as have the rest of my family. All the store fronts have changed. Except Hardee’s maybe.

My childhood home is an office surrounded by storage facilities.

I do miss the home.

If you get bored with your mind try looking at the people that surround you as a reflection of yourself and your “experiences”.

Why are they a part of your life? If you open your mind up a bit it’ll raise your eyebrows

And your awareness.

Anyway

Peace ☮️