Sweet Summer Sweat

Quietly and secretly, I strode along the road on a borrowed bike. The path winds through multiple neighborhoods, sometimes spitting into a highway or a park. I glided across the intersections, determined to reach my destination. I was poised to make my grand entrance. I had an idea of how to present myself, how to casually make my appearance, and even how to end the conversation.

My legs carried me through multiple miles, each time, driving through the peddle, and then forcing itself upward as quickly as possible to repeat its cycle. Every time the destination got closer, I drove a little harder, hoping the speed would hasten and I would get there sooner. Each moment of drawing closer to the place drew my mind towards making silly slideshows of how I wanted the scene to play out. Yet, I could only imagine what the real encounter would be like.

The sweat was pouring. I was determined to make it. I was going to make this trip worth my while. I'm getting closer, setting tire on common soil, when suddenly, an old friend appears. He crept around my head like a vine, covering my every crevice. My friend, good old Mr. Doubt, came in, stealing the show, and letting my know that this was not going to happen.

And as I reached my destination, doubt started to appear to have taken the W on this one. I was defeated, but not broken. The reason for my travels was no where to be found, and it looked as if I had to turn back home. My legs were filled with misery, only happy to make the same distance trip back, just so I could soak in my own shame. I guess, maybe next time, I'll try to let point b know of my intentions, rather than assume my ESP is working again.

Memory Dump, Scene 1. Take 1. Action.

Having to make some sort of excuse for every time someone asks you why you can't drive is completely aggravating. I've made a huge mistake in my life. Something that haunts my entire conscience, and I have to live with this fucking question every day for at least 90 days. It sleeps with me, pulling my eyes open only to see light escaping through a tube behind glass. It creeps in at work, jumping from behind a cabinet in hopes that I might succumb to its awful whine. It lurks beneath my shoes, punching my toes like speed bags until I sit down and let it float into my brain. It is...everywhere.

I figure that at some point I will have to let this go. I will have to move on. But today was the toughest day of the whole scenario past what I actually went through for the day of, and the weekend of. I can't validate myself behind my words. The only thing that helps me is that I have drive to want to live every day. That I want to look in front, instead of behind. I want to see myself through, rather than let it only be a hopeless dream in someone's speech at a party I will only attend in spirit.

Maybe I have gone a little mad since this whole damn shenanigan began, but it is creeping into my home life. The only place where I can let my mind wander without caring about where it goes. It has followed me like a horrible stench. I try to wash it away, but I'm still carrying the odor. I have enough troubles as it is growing up the way I have, but this instance only creates suspicion I could end up just as the magazines say my generation will. Now, my home is no longer safe. My home doesn't carry that sweet home feel, where I can finally get away from everything. What's been infiltrated is now completely bombarded. I can only hope that this wears away quickly before I distance myself from everything.

I'm scared of my own limbo, but I hope it keeps itself in check. I need to sleep, and my mind will only stay restless until I can find a way to harness it and bring it back to the glory days. I want to be new again. I want to feel like the world has finally been lit on fire by this guy, again.

--My last thought is that I wonder what some people think when someone gives them advice. Many humans learn from other humans. It's the best way to learn. You get the experience of someone who has been there, so you know what and what not to do (maybe I should have followed my own previous sentence). Sometimes, you have to learn things on your own. But other times, when you know that person has complete experience in that field, you agree that that paint may just be as wet as they say. Take the friendly advice you get, and receive it so. Maybe you'll learn something you didn't before that could save you from a horrible decision.--

I am my own worst enemy/ Fighting against my own worst enemy's worst enemies.

The washing machine scared me, giving me inspiration to write

The fucking washing machine made the gnarliest noise possible. In turn, it made me want to write a little bit.

I saw the streets of Chicago once again, absolutely astounded by the buildings surrounding me. My new look Tuesday was "out-of-towner", or a tourist, although I struck my feet on the sidewalk with poise as I was guiding me and Chris down the streets. Although I knew my direction, I still had that feel of oddity as I noticed how each building was still trying to out-touch the other. However lifeless they are, they still want to be better than the next. This kind of atmosphere almost breeds that type of "dog-eat-dog" attitude.

I one day envision myself resting my head on a pillow in one of those high rise apartments. Not just in any apartment though. The ones that I look at when I visit the windy city. I will one day call it my home. However, after a visit there not too long ago, I realize that sometimes, I can't keep up. Time was almost at a stand still, while the people were at full force, using every second to their advantage. Meanwhile, I'm left standing idly on the sidewalk, gawking at those massive "window structures". The city moves at twice the speed of light. Chris and I would check our phones, looking at the time, only to notice that a few minutes had passed. We had figured at least an hour had passed, when only 12 minutes had passed. The place is full of madness, while I'm left, still wasting away at the "window thing pointing towards the sky".

With My Heart In My Hands, I Only Wish You Well

I guess, I need to vent. I wonder sometimes what my actions will cause. I have made some interesting decisions as of late. I have given up someone to only start focusing on my future. I would have let myself go, and, if my calculations are correct, would only start heading down that path again, blinded by another's eyes. I am not trying to put myself back in my old situation by going back to that situation. I am simply making a conscious effort to put myself in the best situation possible.

As cold as it truly is, I know that it is what is best for everyone. Little known will be the demise of L.E. Sperling. For there will be none such to speak of.

I started to remember your face, forgot why, and dropped the whole thought.

Being alone gives my mind a jolt of inspiration. I let it call upon its wildest imaginations. It seemingly dives into every single thought I once had, and even forges new ones. For the most part, I can keep myself together, but the moments I can't, I realize I'm going stir crazy and step outside to feel the sun expose my shadow.

My creativity is flourishing, my heart is beating with ease, my brain isn't clogged with tobacco,and my body wants to be healthy. Overall, my experience away but within the world has really brought new perspective to who I am. I've dug deep to surround myself with positive ideas, positive minds, and positive hearts. I have let my brain wander in order to let it take its own journey for the time being so that I can refocus on the things that truly matter to me. While sometimes it can be distracting, it has a way of correcting itself rather quickly.

On a completely diluted note, I am doing very well in my summer class. It is more of a personal growth deal than anything else. It is time for me to own up to my own actions as an adult and realize that I need to man up. I have a 95 with a week left of class. If I leave with anything less than a 90, I'd consider it a defeat. I want that A, and I will have my A.

As I continue forward with a week left, I only hope to let my mind be clear, my heart guide me forward, and my hands not fail me.

Wake Up

Rummaging through my latest thoughts renders my first post in what appears to be in a different millennium. The next posts on this blog will tend to be focused towards whatever the fuck I want to say, be it during the late night binges I coax myself into. Hoping to become comatose is no way to go through life, but those nights I find myself wondering why I did it in the first place.

A dear friend visited for the first time today in so many weeks of no communication. We discussed lifes' newest flavors, and it's potential to succeed or fail. Before I had to cut this talk short due to prior engagements creeping up, he shared a bit of new knowledge I had not yet received. I took it in, grasped it firmly, and understood its implications. I now faced the decision of deciphering what it means to me.

 It rattled around in my brain during my class(or the previous engagement as it were), trying to figure out why this is what it is. It was a new kind of shock. One where you don't expect it, but previous In all my time here on this pile of dirt, never had I wanted to relay a message so bad after thinking so heavily on something. My message slowly developed, and it's something that needs to be shared.

This semester was the toughest of my life. New plans emerged, old goals were tarnished, and I found myself behind a door I could not open for the first time in my life (and the last). I gave up on my studies, lost focus of myself, and tried to rebuild all in this short amount of time called a semester. After the semester ended, I had the worst GPA of my entire scholastic career. Devastated...absolutely. Determined to buckle down and grow up...absolutely. Ready to tell the ones I love...fuck no. This new brand of adversity only made me realize who I was becoming, and I am not that person.

With a new energy and focus on life, I am determined to redo what was once in shambles. My life will be purposeful, or at least on the right track. My determination to be the best is back, and I won't stop until my name is known as the best. I ate these bullets, swallowed them whole, shit out a loaded gun, and started firing back.

With this story, I only want to inspire. I found myself at the lowest of lows. I went to the bottom and found nothing but the bottles I emptied. I was determined to crawl out of that fucking hole myself. Maybe my alcoholism was trying to turn on, but the numbers on my chest thought it was best if he would intervene. I have found that I am no longer the kid I once was. I'm 21, in college, living on my own, and no one to wipe my ass when it needs it. I need to realize that I am an adult and I will do whatever it takes to survive. That means getting the grades I know I am capable of, stop drinking like I'm on Rumspringa, and graduate with honors, or as close as I can get to it. Boys and girls, you all still can get down. Get wild and piss on car tires. Ladies and Gentlemen, it's time to face the world head on. Grow up, be an adult, and face adversity head on. Take responsibility for your own actions. Don't assume that there is a safety net.

 "...and if my hands find themselves another body, well, you can't blame them for trying to keep warm..."