Love, Poets, and a Sip of Tea

5 10 2016

“A Literary Review”, 2016, EIC: Jordan Macklin, A Colorado Mesa University Publication

I was sitting around at school in a chair that’s just uncomfortable enough that it reminds me that I have somewhere else to be eventually.  The reds and yellows of the chairs and floor offset the plain white wall that reach up to the white ceiling.  I’m caught off guard by a brightly colored book.  It’s covered in neon paint splashes.  The top half: a pair of eyes stare out into the real world.  The bottom half: the words scrawled across, “The Literary Review”.  Okay, I’ve got a little time to stall before I get back to work.

I crack open this, what I assume to be freshly printed, book.  It’s published by my school and filled with students’ works.  It’s sorted by sections; Fiction, non-fiction, theater, poetry, etc..  A few photographs and drawings filled in between sections.  Poetry was the first section, and as I’m clearly the kind of guy that does things in an organized matter (that’s sarcasm for those who don’t know me), I started there.  I thumbed through the pages.  It was a small collection, but as I stopped and glanced from poem to poem, I saw the same themes in every single one.  Nearly each containing a regret, a lament, or even a loathing for the world they found themselves in.  I find it disheartening that my generation finds itself lost in uncertainty and imperfection.

“I was built to break.
Not to meticulously pick apart,
Not to solve
Scenes as fine-spun as her.”

Fecundity, Shannon Kay Spoon, The Literary Review, 2016

Poetry and stories have always been a form of self-expression;  whether the intent of the the author is to be as such.  I’ve written some depressing stuff before too, and so I get it.  I get that sometimes the only outlet is to write.  However; there is a pattern here that seems impossible to ignore.  Each presumably submitted as their best works, their showcase, the art that they want to be remembered.  Do we prefer to revel in the darkness and din of our own wandering?  have we forgotten the beauty of life and love?20151006_184804

Yesterday, my mother asked me: “How do you know you love her?” I’d prepared for this answer for months with almost certainty that someone would eventually ask.  With skill and precision and with near perfect recital, having been as prepared as I was (once again… sarcasm), I said: “you know, I can’t really explain it.”  My mom has a cherish-able habit of asking me deep personal questions when I’m strapped down into a seat and unable to escape… perhaps I deserve that fate.   But anyway, there I was, unable to give an explainable answer.  I couldn’t describe it.  I know with absolute certainty that it’s true, and will forever remain so; but I couldn’t explain it.

It seems easier for people to explain feelings of angst and uncertainty than it is to explain beauty or joy.  We’ve become accustomed to analyzing suffering and despair.  People have made livings on telling what’s wrong with the picture.  With answers ‘they’re depressed’, ‘they were mentally unstable’, ‘their environment wasn’t allowing them to succeed’ we seem to have been indoctrinated that in order to be happy we must understand why people are not.  We look at our worldly pains and study them, we adapt to them, and in a sick and twisted way, we’ve melded to them.  The idea of ‘expressing ourselves’ often comes out as “this is why I/the world sucks.”

*pauses… sips tea… resets perspective.


The Irony in my message today is the bleak outlook I may have painted of the matter.  This is anything but true!  I take issue with this, not because “you’re poems suck, and you’re a terrible person,” but because I know that the world we live in is full of good things.  The words we speak or write need not be tainted with negativity, as our ‘outlet’ to feel, but they should rather fill us with hope and longing to improve our condition.

Take joy my friends.  Dance among the stars! Yes, a moment of grief and solitude may be needed, but don’t forget that it is not a life worth living by itself.  Singers: Sing of the summer rain and the flowers of spring.  Dancers: dance with the heart of a warrior, and the grace of an angel.  Painters: imprint on us the bold colors of life.

Poets and writers, a special creed I offer to you: Loose your shackles of bitterness and regret.  Oh scribes of our souls, heed not the warnings of fear and despair.  Adventure forth into the world, peering into the corners of our furthest hopes.  Grow not weary or disheartened.  Seek through mire of hopelessness.  For all can already see what is clearly in front of us.  Seek deeper, wander farther, share with the world what it does not know.  May your works bring wonder and awe to all who see.  Do not find peace in serenity of hopelessness.  Find it instead in the words of the kind, the brave, the virtuous, and the wise.  Be those words.

Cryptic Facebook Post

14 06 2014

I was sitting here at my computer, staring down facebook once again.  To post or not to post, that was the question.  I kind-of wanted to post something cryptic and “ill-mooded”, but I also didn’t wan’t to have flashbacks of having done just that same thing in high-school.  So I’m posting some more rambling non-sense here instead (I just hope it doesn’t take longer than an hour, or else I’ll regret it tomorrow morning).

The whole point of this “cryptic facebook post” that I had in my head to post (but didn’t), was, in a brief summary: “I’m not where I want to be in life”  I was hoping by this time I’d have at least one completed work of music, or a drawing that I would be proud enough to claim as my own, or at the very least a video blog so you can see my pretty face and listen to the sultry sound of my voice.  But no… you’re just reading some boring text, probably skimming from paragraph to paragraph.  I don’t blame you though; I do the same thing.  So this is what happens when dreams and reality meet I guess.  I’ve never had a job that I’ve said that I really didn’t like, but as humanity would have it, I’ve found myself skimming the bottom of the barrel hoping to find enough scraps to hold together some sort of thing that people call living (keep in mind I have 2 jobs… one of which I thoroughly enjoy, but I’m pleading the 5th on which one I’m talking about… here’s a hint: it’s not posted on my facebook that I work there.)

Don’t get me wrong, the people there are great (mostly), but that kind of environment is not suited to my strengths even in the slightest.  Which got me to thinking again, about my other post And Now: For Something Completly Different.  I desperately am clinging on to the theory of that post, probably as some sort of early-mid-life crisis.  But reality has sunk it’s teeth in hard, and I’m struggling to fight for my dreams.  I’ve found that it’s like this: the desire is there, and the skills are rusty (but there… I hope) but right now, I have no goals or outlet.  I’ve also noticed how having 2 jobs, makes me really not want to do anything at all when I have time off.  I play a lot of music, but most of it doesn’t accomplish much, as I don’t have anything hooked up to record anymore.  Lastly, I’ve noticed that I like to do creative things at night, which doesn’t help when I have to be up at 5 the next morning.  So… This “job” thing that makes me money.  it’s a necessary evil at this point.  And unfortunately, sometimes I have to do things I don’t like to do.

I’m still looking for a place to live in a more permanent situation.  I’ve got boxes and piles everywhere in the room my grandparents are letting me stay in.  It’s not home though, and it’s not suitable to what I want to be doing with my time.  But once again… there’s that money thing.

So, I’m not doing what I want in a place I don’t want to be, with my boxes and piles of dirty laundry to keep me company… hmm… let’s talk solutions.  Because solutions to problems are always more exciting than the problems themselves in my opinion.

Option 0: Do nothing

So I make money now, I eat good food and sleep in a warm bed.  What more could I want in life?  <– seriously  this isn’t fun at all.

Option 1:  Go to college!

Ok… I’ve given this some thought, and it actually seems like it could become a viable solution.  But there’s still lots of details and stuff to hash out in my head and on paper before it becomes even remotely doable.

Option 2: Find a different job

I’m working on this one passively, but seriously: it was hard enough the first time.

Option 3: umm…

Ok… I haven’t come up with any more ideas.  What can I say? I’m writing this all down as it comes to me anyway.  what did you expect? a well thought out dissertation on my thoughts this evening? ha ha! you obviously don’t know me very well then… moving on…

every now and then… I’ve highly considered, while driving, to just keep driving, to see where I end up.  Just to pack up some things, and hit the road.  But then again, it wouldn’t help with my mission at all.  so Option 4: I need to set some actual tangible goals for myself.  “Goal one: write goals down.”  There, that wasn’t too hard. I just need to keep going.  Now for those of you who don’t know how this blogging thing works, I’m going to stop writing things here so I can find some pretty pictures to put in before it gets much later into the night.

<insert 15 minute gap of time>

Well.. that was a waste.  There’s nothing good on the internet anymore (which is another tangent I might address later).  I took a bunch of nice photos last weekend, but they’re still all on my moms computer.  So it looks like you’re just going to get a big-ole wall-o-text this time… sorry.


Googling Self

28 05 2013

I’m sure everyone’s done it at least once.  Googling yourself can be interesting and a little creepy at times.  I got this crazy idea this morning though, rather than googling my full, real name.  I googled my most commonly used pseudonym or alias on google (Shoomfie), and found out just how ingrained I am into the internet.  Granted, I don’t think that anyone will ever search the name “Shoomfie”… I don’t even know what it means.  I just wanted a gaming alias that didn’t have any stupid numbers at the end.  From the search I found out that I’m a member of a lot of Minecraft related forums. and that I play ArmA 2 & 3.  I also have a rather unsuccessful Youtube account.  That’s basically all I wanted to say.  If you want to find yourself on the internet, use your pseudonym… just be prepared to fight the urge to turn off your computer and then hide in your closet. 😉

Your’s truly,

FBFSE update #2: DAY 1

15 04 2013

DAY 1:  It’s getting warmer outside.  I fully anticipate having some sort of withdrawal here in the first week.  Probably some social anxiety as I will have no idea what people are up to.  Which is funny, because it’ll be exciting when I have to, you know… ask them in person how they’re doing.  What a strange concept.

Anyway, my passwords are officially changed.  I used a password generator using 15 random letters, numbers and special characters.  I didn’t save the passwords, so the only way to get my accounts back is to do a password reset.  And that won’t happen until Aug. 31.  My big sister has unofficially joined on board with the experiment (at least according to a FB post a couple of days ago).  I hope that you all consider this another invitation to join in a really cool idea (if I may say so myself).  It’s not too late to realize that there’s more to life than false social interactions!

Well… it’s still too early to have any real kind of report.  So this is just my official “hey I started”, notice.




Double-shot Latte’s

8 05 2012

As I sat down at my desk this morning, with a double-shot latte in my hand, I felt like the week would never end.  And during some moment, between now and  9-o-clock this morning I realized a few different things.  First: that it was only Tuesday.  But Second: No matter how much we seem to be in control of things, we really never are.

From the technical, side of things:  Camp’s server died last Thursday.  This server, for all you technical people out there, runs par of our DNS, DHCP, Printer server, Active Directory, and File storage.  For you non-technical people: No internet, no files, sketchy login to their office computer, and did I mention no file access.  Most of the hardware appears to be fine, and since we’re running a virtual server, all I had to do (ha ha ha ha ha!)… was mirror the server from a backup, and then restore all the current files from our online safe.  This, or course, has turned out to be a nightmare.  And of course, as I sit here and write this, I’m on “bar watch” duty. “41%! it’s on a roll!”  Never mind the fact that it’s probably going to screw up again, or transfer files in the places I specifically told in not to… again, or the backup manager is going to crash…again.

You know those times when you’ve been thinking so hard about something that it enters your, albeit, short dreams? I’m convinced that my dreams are run by servers now.  This server thing, has gotten a hold of me, and quite frankly, it feels a little like it’s dragging me under.  I feel like I have no control of my own job right now.  It’s all I can do to try and keep everyone else in good spirits.  It’s times like this, where my work becomes “a job”, working 9 to… whenever I quit for the day.

“…still 41%”.  So this morning when I woke up.  I looked up into the mirror when I was brushing my teeth, just to see how tired I actually looked.  I actually looked better than I felt, so that was a good thing.  And then I cam to my conclusion:

Things happen.  This has been said by many people, but I found a new meaning in it this morning.  When things happen, we really do have a choice on how to use/view them.  On Friday, I emailed out a list to my co-workers and bosses, saying what they could and couldn’t do with the server being down.  One of those things on my list was “enjoy your weekend”.  Being just a couple of weeks from summer and people not having their files I’m sure is super frustrating.  But it’s really out of their hands.  And sometimes I feel when people ask me a question about the server, I wan’t to ask them if they’ve taken this time of helplessness and refocused why they’re here for God.  Because we can either be bogged down with work and what we can’t do to get things done in two weeks, or we can trust that God is still God, whether or not He allows us to have what we want in order to get work done.  In reality, it’s His camp and His work and our lives are even His.  Not “for” His purpose, but truly and completely His!

Although I’m trying my best to convince people here to “relax” and/or get other work done, people do need (want) their files back.  So even though we all must rest in God’s timing, I’m working very hard and tediously at trying to get things to work on the server.  As I sit here writing this, watching the bar move (42%), while sipping on my double-shot latte; I ask that you be praying for me, that God grant’s me the peace and rest that I so desperately crave right now.

We are helpless.  We can do nothing without God, because in the end our bodies will all perish, and everything we thought we did will mean nothing.  We can do all things through Christ who gives us strength, because in the end when our souls are lifted up to be with our savior, God can say to us “well done, good and faithful servant.”!

Yours truly,


I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.