According to blogger this is going to be my 347th post. That's obviously less then the amount of days in a year...which is odd considering I've had this blog for over a decade now. Oh how much I, and the world have changed in that amount of time.

   I watched Star Wars Episode 3: Revenge of the Sith tonight. While I can now safely say about 95% of the prequels were worse then having a fat lady fall on you on a hot day, the Lightsaber battle at the end of this film resonates with me personally.

   Obi-Wan's words, "I have failed you Anakin, I have failed you." remind me of a friendship I lost. This point was especially driven home a few minutes later when he adds, "You were my brother Anakin, I loved you." This friendship was one of slow build, one that took years, but at its apex, it was unlike any other. Both myself and this person...lets call him R.D., were like brothers. A bond that was inseparable...or so I thought.

   Like Anakin, R.D. would eventually succumb to the "Dark Side", but not of a fictional "force" per say, no it was of life. Where others found being pushed to be better a good thing and a determining factor in bettering their life, R.D. would be tainted by his achievements, and it gave him the feeling of social and personal invulnerability. This, combined with a mix of drugs and alcohol would serve to be the undoing in our friendship.

   This decimation was not all his fault mind you. I do share some of the blame. My own failure to advance myself both socially and mentally was doubtlessly a contributing factor in the downfall of the friendship. I still shoulder this burden to this very day. Not nearly as much as I once did, mainly because I realize that maybe...just maybe the ending was needed. When my mother passed away in 2003, I had wrongly assumed(you know what they say about assuming.) that we could put our troubles aside and he could be there for me. I was wrong. Very wrong, in fact, as his roommate would tell me, "He thinks he's sorry." proved to me just how far gone he was. Then why do I always find myself wanting to go back? Especially when I know it could end catastrophically.

   Maybe it is because that, like my so-called namesake, Luke Skywalker realized of his father in "Return of the Jedi", that, "there is still some good in him." Maybe I have that belief in my friend. Now this is not say that R.D. is evil. He has not killed a basket of kittens, nor has he pushed an old lady into oncoming traffic(though after being a paperboy for 7 years I got close a few times.), but he let his larger then life persona get the better of him and became tainted by it.

   If anything everyone who knows me well knows I never go about things the easy way. It's another one of my faults. It's why i'm broke and mostly jobless now. It's why I've failed at love. As my many horrible crushes have proven to me, maybe I aim too high. Be it a girl who has stratospheric wealth, or one who has a committed boyfriend, I can never seem to get a foothold on anything within my grasp.

   It is this lofty, dream-driven mindset that has likely tired many people close to me, and again, could be a factoring reason in the ending of that friendship.

   But from the ashes of that friendship, I have learned how to build anew. This rebuilding has made my life better, especially within the past year. It has been a difficult year to say the VERY least. I liken it to a battle in which I am a lone warrior fighting against an unending army, and every time I sense the battle turning in my favor, another legion of troops is sent my way.

   Then, like any good battle, the reinforcements show up, just when they are needed the most. And if that scenario played out in real life, my friends would be those reinforcements. They all, in various ways helped me survive that year, and in doing so showed me once again, that friends are stronger then family.

   I'm not the easiest person to know, truer words have likely never been spoken. And everyone can attest to that. For that, I am truly sorry. I know those words likely seem shallow to many, but I speak them with sincerity, for I know my demands, my...sheer unique-ness can drive anyone mad. But, and I know it might be hard to believe, I am doing my best to remedy these faults. It may not come quickly, but I hope it does. I do not enjoy the life I currently live.Now before everyone gets nervous, I ASSURE YOU...I am NOT in any way planning on harming myself or others.

   I am not a believer in violence, nor am I a believer in weapons, which, I know will alienate a few, but honestly...I don't give a shit. I've seen far too much horror in my life, nay, in this year to be a proponent in weaponizing the public. In fact, I was never a fan of it, but after the horror I've seen this year, I am even more vehemently opposed to it. I do believe in self defense. I do not believe in putting lead into another human being.

   Now I know that many of you think that makes me a peace loving hippie. I am not. Rest assured if you attempt to harm me or those close to me, I will not hesitate to snap your legs into toothpicks, nor will I be ashamed of breaking your nose. Does that make me a hypocrite? Maybe. But I think i'd take far greater satisfaction out of watching someone walk with a limp for the rest of their life then be 6 feet under.

   Many scream second amendment. Might I remind you that at the time of the second amendment's writing, no one owned an Uzi, but many owned slaves? In fact I'm fairly certain that if we went back and looked at all the laws written back then, we'd find them to be at best...dated. Maybe it is time we revisit them in an attempt to bring about a day where police officers do not have to deliver horrific news at ones doorstep.

   I do not want to see any more photos of anguished people in tears due to tragedy. I want to see tears of joy. The tears that people shed due to absolute unbridled happiness. I want to see photos of troops returning home into the arms of loved ones. I want to see photos of shiny new cars being straddled by sexy models. I want to see photos of people in bliss. There needs to be an end to bitterness, to hatred and bigotry.

   The cartoon series, "The Jetsons", envisioned a bright and great future, and it is still within our grasp to attain that future. I know it. I am, at the end of the day an eternal optimist. Maybe this is another one of my faults. But...faults build cracks and the cracks in my give a damn are very close to breaking.

   These dams, these barriers that I've set for myself, they've held me back far too long, and in many ways contributed to what I will flatly call, a shitty year. Sure I've had sparks of goodness and joy, but all in all, it was quite shitty. But in spite of that, I have seen some friends have the opposite, and that truly does make me happy. I would easily trade my happiest day to a friend who was having a terrible one. I learned long ago that happiness for me is in all likelihood...unattainable. Now you'll note that a few lines ago I mentioned my penchant for being an optimist. How can these two mix you ask? Well, i'm complex.

   As much as I would like to think I deserve happiness, I realize where I am now. I'm 30. I still live at home. I have a serious learning disability, I have PTSD, I'm broke, and mostly jobless. I'm going for a degree in a field that is dying. I know where I stand in the world. And for those of you screaming, "get help." Rest assured, I am. That's all i'll say about that.

   But what I will continue to say is that I need too...everyone needs to, at some point put themselves in front of others and take the knife to the chest. I've been far too selfish for far too long and it has gotten me no where. I've let my fears envelop me to a point of almost no return. But, again, partially through the strength of my friends, and partially due to my own un-ending stubbornness, I've become quite adaptable. If nothing else i'll take that as a character development. That and the fact that I am a survivor. I will not quit. Accept that.

   Maybe that is why I continue to hope for a peace between me and R.D. Maybe thats why I keep pushing forward where others have failed, where even I have failed. I'm not really sure where I gained that trait, but I'm kinda proud I did.

   That is why, when the surge waters were rising, when power was flickering, when the house was creaking and shaking, i took a quick look at my life and was not happy. It was the only time in my life when I actually thought I would die. And I was scared. I was scared that I accomplished nothing. I even asked myself, through tears, as I sat alone, "is this as good as its gonna get?" I fought with myself in the darkness and fear. I sat there for I don't even know how long...and like a crazy person kept telling myself I had to fight for what was better and if I made it out alive to not accept the bad that life gives me.

   I've done a little bit since then to improve my situation. I didn't expect a change overnight, and if I did, that would have been foolish.

   I did endure a lot in those days, and in the weeks since. I've doubted myself, I've doubted others, but like I said, i'm a survivor. And while i'm proud of that, I don't want to look at situations as something I have to "survive", but as something I can either learn from, or enjoy.

   I truly hope I can enjoy the next year. I've always been a bit O.C.D and superstitious, so knowing the number that ends the forthcoming year, I will not try to say it as much, and due to that fact I'll attempt to quicken its pace. But if its pace slows, I truly hope it is for something good.

   Even though I said I want good for others, I also want good for myself. I do have a feeling, especially after this year, as though the universe owes me. And owes me big. This being said, I also know that I need to, at least partially make for myself what I want.

   What do I want? Happiness, plain and simple. I want to be able to, in a year or so's time, say, "That was a damn good year." And, "it sure is good to see a nice naked gal on my bed." I'd also like to say the following:

"Thank you Mister President, It was an honor to be your driver. Sorry about the dents in the limo."

Or, "Yes, Allstate? I'd like to ensure my Ecto-1."

Or "My name is Luke Crisalli, i'm the photo editor for National Geographic's new NYC division."

Or, "Why yes, i'd be happy to give you my chocolate covered bacon candy."

   Like I said. Eternal Optimist.

Bookishbelle: Day 4 of Christmas: A Ghostbuster's Holiday

Bookishbelle: Day 4 of Christmas: A Ghostbuster's Holiday: Submitted by Luke Crisalli Every year since 2004, I've been shooting my own Christmas cards, and these are absurdly off the wall hila...

Richmond

    As I sit here and type this, its been…oh…4 weeks since Hurricane or Super storm or whatever they’re calling Sandy struck. It’s been hard. Hard for me, harder still for others.

    I…for the longest time have feared this day would come. Some called me a disaster prophesier, some said I was being paranoid. If only you knew how right I wanted them to be. To see what I’ve seen, what I’ve heard in the past few weeks…defies logic and reason. I’ve seen untold devastation and unimaginable horror, all within a relatively small island. This is not to say the rest of the region is unaffected…

    The Wednesday night after the storm I finally made my way to a working TV at my friends firehouse, and finally got a visual on what I’d up that point only been hearing via radio. It was worse then I imagined. Far worse. Whole cities, towns…absolutely torn apart. These sights have been repeated in person as I’ve toured the island. I don’t think you can really grasp how bad it is through a tv report or even a photograph…

    To say Staten Island is devastated would be understating the obvious. To say that we need help would be an even greater understatement. The island has been completely turned inside out. Our once proud and growing beachfront is all but a memory. Beachfront communities have been completely erased.

    I have this fear that it may stay that way. This island…for the longest time has been associated with an acceptance of cynicism of sorts. We’ve accepted that we are forgotten and most people try to leave, yet those that don’t seemingly never accept anything that can improve their lives…that being said, what has been destroyed by Sandy…could stay that way due to the mindset of “why rebuild it if another storm will just knock it over again?” which in turn will leave things to rot and crumble and forever stay that way. I’m almost in that mindset too, and I hate it.

    This storm was unlike anything I’ve ever been through. That night, as I sat, alone on my living room floor…power was going in and out. The house was shaking, creaking…power transformers were exploding in front of the house, lines going down, wind howling, trees were going down all over, I thought for sure a tree would come into the house, or onto the house or the wind would blow the roof off…I sat there and I thought “this is it. I’m going to die. Alone.” And I was just…it…its an unsettling thought to be confronted with my own mortality…it was scary honestly. To get down to the basics, it was utterly terrifying. I didn’t want to die. I still don’t, but that night…I thought for sure I was going to. Sure I’d always say jokingly things like “this is the end”, but this time, for sure, I thought it was. And I still don’t know how to deal with it. My life didn’t flash before me like some people say it does. It was just…moments of fear. Fear because I had no control over anything, fear because I was alone, fear because honestly I’m not happy with the way my life has been going.

    I asked myself; “Is this as good as it gets?” I’m 30, single, broke, mostly jobless, and going for a degree that many consider to be pointless. So again, I ask myself, Is this as good as it gets? I try and I try to get better, but 30 year olds with a learning disability and a penchant for being a dreamer don’t always win, doesn’t always get the girl or score the winning touchdown…its not all sunshine and happiness. It’s hard. And it’s tiring. And I can’t help but wonder, has the lackadaisical cynicism from this island has seeped into me?

    I generally try to find happiness with anything, find that silver lining, that piece of hope, but everywhere I look lately I see destruction, horror and just sadness. It’s hard to find hope. You can see it in the way people walk. People have a gray-ashen look to them.

    This is not September 11th. This…in some ways…is a bit worse…or maybe its not. It’s different. It’s not one small part of the city. This affected the whole city. It impacted many lives and will do so for a long time to come. This isn’t something we can just bounce back from in a few months. This isn’t something the government can mess around with and leave sitting there while they squabble, this is something that needs to be addressed soon, otherwise it will define us, and honestly I’m tired of being defined by tragedy and terrible things. For the longest time, it’s been, for this island, defined by a damn a garbage dump. Not parkland, pizza, families and mom and pop stores as it should be…no, one stupid piece of land, and it sickens me. And what do we get after that? A TV show that of course picks up on the worst and the dumbest, not the best and the brightest.

    You see, that’s my life too. For the longest time, I’ve been defined, by some, in a bad way as weak, inattentive, and too much of a dreamer. I have been singled out as too focused on what I want and enjoy, and been mocked, ridiculed and taken endless hours of shit for it, and ya know what? I’m tired of it, and I honestly don’t care anymore. If I’m known for something, I just want it to be something that I view as good, something I think can better the world, and if I’m considered a dreamer for it, then good. At least I have dreams.

Legion

   About 3 weeks ago, I attended a funeral for a man whom I considered to be a friend. Maybe not the closest friend, but still, a friend nonetheless. That man was Larry Sullivan, from FDNY Rescue Company 5, in Grassmere.

   At this funeral, bagpipes were played, flags were flown and the masses stood at attention and saluted.

   It was a scene that was all to familiar to not only myself, but especially the residents of Staten Island. While some may choose not remember that day, eleven years ago. I, along with many others, remember it well. It is a day that is literally burned into our memory. It is a day where I saw my city, my home, my family, my friends attacked without reason.

   It is a day I cannot-and do not want to forget. I could dwell on the horror, and I will admit, sometimes I do, even eleven years later. Things like that don't leave your mind. Sometimes, when I close my eyes at night, I still see that one burning building standing. It was a sight so alien to me that I still can’t comprehend it. I see it belching thick black smoke, then I blink, and it too is gone, becoming one with the cloud that surrounded it. Sometimes I still smell it too. And that for some reason has stuck with me just as much as the images have. It was a smell unlike any other. I suppose the best way to describe it is gunpowder mixed with something…and everyone knew what that something was, but no one wanted to say it.

   That eerie silence overtook us for a while. It was almost louder then the explosions that created the day. I could remember the terror, the fear, but I choose not too, because amidst the chaos, something remarkable happened. A different kind of explosion, a new kind of fire. It was the fire of determination.

   Determination to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and help one another. Being a New Yorker, hell, being a Staten Islander suddenly carried more of pride then it ever had before. We all saw the images. People digging with buckets, people waving flags, offering blood, water, food, anything to rescue workers. Those people did not ask to help. They just did it. Others saw that and followed suit.

   And so can the rest of us. That has to be what we take away from that day, not horror, but human compassion. We don’t need an attack or a tragedy to help people. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard, “it takes a tragedy to bring us together.” It honestly makes me angry. We are a good people, we always wish to be, we shouldn't need a horrific event to bring us together.

   A lot of people wait until this time of year, then they start waving flags and yellow ribbons and “never forget” banners. Then a week or two passes and what happens? They forget. The cynicism returns, and it makes me angry. You don’t have to mourn every day, but for crying out loud, be a decent human. That’s what I think the true meaning of “never forget” should be, that’s how it should resonate.

   Maybe i'm just a blue eyed dreamer who believes that superheroes can walk among us, albeit in the form of real people, but thats a hope that I believe everyone should cling to, if for nothing else then to teach us that somewhere, deep inside us, lies that primal urge to do good for no other reason then us simply realizing its morally correct.

   Whatever happened to just helping someone who dropped a book or holding a door open for someone just because it was the right thing to do? What about smiling at someone who is having a bad day? Small things in theory, sure, and it might not be the same as helping at a disaster site, but you can be damn sure that the person you helped will appreciate it, at least a little. People on this island, hell-on this planet very often like to talk a big game and act tougher then they truly are. Instead putting on this act, how about we all step our game up, become decent humans, and let that be the true face of the world?

   Its not about religion, its not about politics, its not about whos gay or straight, its about doing whats decent, about being decent. Being a friend. One of the good things I can take away from that time was the friendships I either rekindled or begun, and ones I still cherish.

   So instead of spending this time mourning, go be a friend, to anyone, they'll appreciate it. It may turn into something excellent. George Washington once said, "True friendship is a plant of slow grow, and must undergo and withstand the shocks of adversity before it is entitled to the appellation." That is what the day should be about, friendship and compassion. That is how you honor those you loved and lost. They'd appreciate it. I know I do.

Soliloquy For The Silent

Later today I will be attending a funeral. I, probably like many, do not like funerals. I...generally do not like being in sad, depressing situations. Thats what I think most funerals are.

Lately, much of my life has been a sad, depressing situation, partially of my own faults, my extreme exacting taste being one, my self doubt and lack of confidence are also a contributing factor. Many people, close friends and brief acquaintances have offered advice and tips on how best to combat these things, but this is a battle I must fight my self.

The man that I will be honoring later today was nothing like me. He was a strong, courageous man, and though I did not know Larry Sullivan as well as I would have liked, I knew him to have a smile and determination that could posses a hundred men.

Larry's time working in the FDNY's elite, Staten Island proud Rescue Company 5 saw him battle everything from house fires to car wrecks. Every day he worked, not knowing what he would face, not knowing the outcome, yet he pushed through and carried his head high, proud to represent his company, his department, and his city.

You see, it takes a certain breed of person to not just live in this city, but to thrive, for as Frank Sinatra proudly said, "If I can make it there, i'll make it anywhere..."

Larry Sullivan made it here. He may not walk among us anymore, but he lives inside each and every New Yorker, past present and future. Thankfully, his is one fire that cannot be - should not be extinguished, because his fire has stoked, at least in my mind, a quiet determination to not let my shortcomings own me, but to let my strengths and quirks define me.

Larry, if I become a quarter of the man you were, i'll consider that one hell of an achievement. I'm proud to have been in your presence, to have shaken your hand, and most of all, to have known what a great and excellent man you were, and always will be.

   Tomorrow, Thursday, June 21, 2012, I will be old. It still warps my brain thinking about it. I've walked the Earth for thirty years. How is that possible?

   Despite the learning disability that prevents me from remembering things from time to time and sends my mind down more avenues then a greedy cab driver, I can still recall, for some very odd reason, looking up from my crib when I was maybe 3 or 4 years old. There was a red light on a stereo or some other device in my parents old house in the South Beach section here on Staten Island.

   That might be one of the first memories I can still vividly recall. Why? Who knows....maybe its something that's supposed to correlate with my desire to become a New York City firefighter. Red lights ya know? Yeah, everyone goes to the "Red Light District", but if you know me for even 3 minutes, you know I'm nothing like "everyone."

   To say i'm...different...that would be the understatement of a lifetime. Eccentric? Oh yeah. Bizarre? Maybe. Weird? Yep. Off The Wall? Got that covered. Outside of the box? I can't even see the box.

   These things...these idiosyncrasies are something I've not only created for myself, but they're also something that have come to define me, for better or worse. They annoy some, amuse others.

   I'm not living an ideal life with these traits, but I'm by no means living an abysmal one. You see, if any time period has had an effect on me, it'd be the past 15 years. An odd number to be sure, even odder by the fact I really, really friggin hate numbers and hate math. I find it to be the unwanted cousin of the alphabet. Math is about as useful to me as a push-up bra(Which, if I give up on my workout routine, will actually become more useful then math...Hello man boobs.).

   In the past fifteen years, I've seen fire, I've seen rain...wait...I'm not James Taylor...but, I have seen fire, I have seen rain. I've seen death, I've seen war, I've seen the absolute worst of humanity and the absolute best in humanity, I've seen more then I should have seen...but I gained knowledge and insight from all of it.

   I've become very humbled you could say. Watching your own mother pass away can do that to a person I suppose. Literally seeing someone wither from a strong person to a frail shadow of a human like that had an incredibly profound impact on me. I had many a person at that time tell me that I wasn't dealing with it properly. Well, if anyone knew me, my mother, my father and the way our family structure worked, they'd know that we deal with things differently. Moreover, everyone, and I mean EVERYONE deals with things differently. I don't care if you are identical twins who dress the same into your forties, every person is an individual. Everyone handles situations in a way that alternates from one person to the next. So to say I didn't handle it the "correct way" is something that kind of irks me. Does it still hurt? Absolutely. It will hurt till my eyes close for the final time, 34,068 years from now(I'm straightedge, so I will naturally outlive everyone except Trumps hairpiece and the roaches in Grand Central.). Do I still have a tough time dealing with it? Absolutely. I still can't walk into her bedroom and its been nearly nine years. Does it make me weak? Maybe, but I rarely had a reason to go in there to begin with.

   But if I hinged on the sadness of that situation, I wouldn't be who I am today. It hurt, but so does getting a golf club to the crotch, but if there's anything Bob Saget and Americas Funniest Home Videos taught us, its that laughter is the best medicine...as is $10,000. Seeing as how I don't have access to a golf club and a willing between-the-legs target, I 'll settle for laughter. I spent enough time, especially in those days, feeling sorry for myself. And that didn't help.

   Laughter can be a great escape, especially in trying times. I can't tell you how many times I find myself in a rut and then I remind myself...somewhere in the world, some poor schlub is getting hit in the face with a pie. I remind myself of that and I smile. Then I realize I need to see a dentist. Remember early on in this Gettysburg speech when I told you my mind runs in more directions then a 7 year old in "Toys R Us"? Prime example right there.

   I guess that's one of the reasons I'm still single, no girl in her right mind could keep up with my intensity and insanity. Or maybe we just haven't found each other yet. This despite the fact I would have love in an elevator and do anything for love. Did I just reference Aerosmith and Meatloaf songs? Oh yes. I'm appealing to the girls who quote music every .23 seconds. Except most girls probably don't know who Aerosmith and Meatloaf are...not that I'll be getting a job at Rolling Stone or want one anyway. That is another problem people seem to think I have and one I may agree with them on.

   I've had seven jobs and about four internships or internship-like jobs. I've liked most of them for a grand total of one paycheck until they turned miserable. And by miserable, I mean imagine a sweaty fat man falling on you in July. In Phoenix. Now I've had many a person come up to me and say "you need to work really crappy jobs before you get something you like, even if its a paycheck. Just work." A lot of those people are old and either are working in a job they've always hated or retired from a job they've always really hated. I've done my time, unlike Roger Clemens, Charlie Sheen and Celine Dion(I friggin hate that song and you know which i'm talking about, she shoulda done 15-20 for it.), I've been crapped on by the workforce for so long just to almost scrape by and ya know what, I'm tired of it. I want to get paid for doing what I love. Why is that such a horrible thing in peoples eyes? I think the miserable naysayers are just so willing to let the world steamroll them that they want everyone to be as miserable as them. Not me, no way. I 'm far better, and not afraid to admit it.

   Its not super-ego, its ego, and a bit of that can take you far. Don't ever accept something that you feel is beneath you or is simply something you don't want. You put your effort in, you deserve better. Listen to me, I'm not Bill Clinton, but I am Hugh Heffner, except, ya know, minus the seven blondes. Just one will do. Or a redhead. Or a brunette, I'm not picky. Now with that anyway.

   Thirty is scary. It's indescribably scary. Everyone always says "Age is just a number." Know what? Those people are really friggin stupid and likely kidding themselves the same way Penguins think they can fly. Its scary for reasons that can't easily be described. But, just like twenty, hell, just like ten, its what you make of it. The impression that I get is that you're supposed to fit into some kind of a mold by this age.

   I suppose I could choose to sit at home, pay some bills, plan for a 401K(Whatever the hell that is.), research bond and or mutual funds, and even find a really good organic dressing to put on my salad(despite the fact I hate salad)...

   ...Or...I could grab my camera(s) and shoot some excellent photos of friends dressed like superheroes, pay $30 for a box of Lego(still the all time greatest stress reliever/creative tool EVER CREATED), plan a killer road trip, or find something to deep fry and or cover in chocolate(then openly regret it as I sit in front of toilet later while internally planning to do it again in 6 hours.)

   I think we all know what I'm going to choose. And to those who don't know, either stop reading now or look at the Ghostbusters logos that adorn the car I proudly drive. Yes, I am Luke Crisalli, I'm turning thirty, and i'm a geek, and damn freaking proud of it. I'm odd, I'm eccentric, I'm bonkers, bollocks and loony, I'm against the grain and sometimes off the wall. I'm more authentic then Levi's, I'm sweeter then Lemonheads, and more complex then a 500 piece puzzle of blue sky, I'm intensely nostalgic. I'm a child of the 80's, I'm a downloader, but not an upgrader. I'm an atheist and an independent, but not defined by either. I'm a turtle lovin, bacon eatin' one of a kind guy. I didn't just break the mold, I vaporized the factory that made the mold.

   Thirty? Bring it on.

I feel like I just battled an army. This semester has been remarkably tough and long, and it was through no fault but my own. I'm physically, mentally and emotionally drained past the point of exhaustion. I feel empty, i feel depressed and i'm not sure why. I suppose I should feel accomplished, but until I get my grades, I don't think I can rest easy. Even then I still have that summer class, and after that, only about 2 months till the fall kicks my ass, but ya know what? Bring it on.

I started this semester filled with a ton of uncertainty, and while I still have it, I know that I put in all the effort possible, which is maybe why i'm tired. Nothing worth having, worth wanting is ever easy. That's just the way it is, and i'm OK with that. I feel better knowing I did everything I could have.

And I also feel better knowing I met some real great people in the past five months. They know who they are, and they're all good and decent people. And i'm very happy to call them all friends.

I'm also happy to call friends those who will be moving on to better and greater things. These people have the talent, drive and desire to accomplish excellent things, and I know that they will do just that.

And i'm also happy to have the friends that I've known for a while, the ones who will do anything for you. These are special people and great ones, and they're really just the best of the best.

I know that i'm not an easy person to know. I have my issues, I have my pitfalls, I have my faults, I'm eccentric, I'm picky and I obsess, but somehow, all of you make me being me a bit easier. Everyone of you that I can call friend...I really do feel luckier knowing you. You have no idea how much I really do value all of you. Thank you all for being there for me. And I promise, I will always be there for all of you. Lets all enjoy a few months off, then kick some ass come the fall. I'll bring the chocolate...and yes, the bacon too.

In a little over 20 minutes, 100 years ago the course of human history changed forever when over 1,500 people lost their lives in the bitter chill of a North Atlantic night.

23 years ago, a simple book changed a good part of my life and would intertwine me with one of the greatest stories in human history, albeit one of its most saddening.

The book was "Exploring the Titanic" by Dr. Robert Ballard. My reasoning for getting the book actually stems from another love of mine, Ghostbusters. You see, there was a part in "Ghostbusters 2" where New York, under siege from the netherworld finally gets to see the wreck of Titanic dock...in spectral form of course.

Fast forward to a few months later when I was in 2nd grade at P.S. 11 here on Staten Island. Every so often we would get these 3-4 page book order forms. Me being a book nut(something that also still hasn't changed.) saw Dr. Ballard's book and immediately reminded myself "Thats the ship from the movie!"

About 2 weeks later the book arrived and so began one of the things I will undoubtedly always be remembered for.

I'm not sure whether or not thats a good thing however. How morbid it is to be associated with one of the worlds greatest tragedies? People often come up to me, especially lately and ask me what it is about the Titanic that still draws me in all these years later.

There are a multitude of answers to give.

The one that sticks the most is Hubris. The fact that we as a society back then and especially now think of ourselves as the great and powerful human race, with great and powerful things to show for it...but where has it really gotten us?

Back then Hubris cost more than 1,500 lives and showed the world that despite the great achievements of humankind, nature will still prevail over all. We are not forever. Thats not meant to be a morbid statement, and i'm sorry if thats how it is taken but it is true.

That hubris still lives within us all today, this very day in fact. I've been watching the coverage of the massive severe weather outbreak in the midwest and can't help but think of the unlucky people who build homes on the cheap, just to beat a deadline, only to see natures fury rip the house from the ground with a family inside of it, yet we praise modern building methods.

We as a race of people are not "unsinkable", as some thought the Titanic to be. Instead of trying to control nature, we need to better understand it and work within its parameters.

We are a great people, just as we were back then, but we let our ego and our Id get the best of us sometimes. We have this great idea of a utopian society, yet we can't stop bickering about petty things long enough to realize that gets nothing done. Arguing for the sake of arguing is not proving ones point, its prolonging ineptitude.

If the Titanic proved anything, its that we can't have these class wars in society. That iceberg, that chilled water did not discriminate between rich and poor. It took who it took, regardless of who they may be.

It's for reasons such as those I can't help but scoff at the idea of our people having any effect on the outcome of the planets future. As I said, the severe weather in the midwest proves that if the Earth doesn't want us, it will find a way to get rid of us. The Earth does not beleive in climate change. Before the human race was what it is today, this planet made its way through the solar system as a black boiling ball of rock, and it did it just fine.

We aren't trying to save Earth, we're trying to save the Human race. We're so afraid of our own future that we've given up on trying to save ourselves and have instead pawned off our problem and blamed it on the planet. How much ego is involved there?

Probably a little less than the one that sideswiped an iceberg.

There is however hope.

There is always, ALWAYS HOPE. We can all start acting like decent, normal, good humans again. Going out of your way to hold a door open does actually do a little bit in the world, despite what you may think. A groundswell movement doesn't begin with an uproar, it begins with a ripple. And I know that we as a people are capable of this. We're not lost. I have full belief that we can learn from our mistakes and missteps.

Cynicism never got a damned thing accomplished, hope did. It was with that hope in mind that Captain Arthur Rostron ordered his ship, R.M.S. Carpathia to steam to the site of Titanics last position and begin rescue efforts, despite his being 58 miles away...which, back in 1912, was essentially a light world away.

This man did not just heed the call, he went above and beyond. This is something that we are all capable of doing. We're not helpless, we're lazy. And that goes for me too. The sooner we stop being lazy, the sooner we stop ACTING helpless, the more we can get done for the betterment of humanity. We act high and mighty, but when it comes down to it, few of us follow through with it. Now is the time for that to change. It's up to you.

Its Sunday night and I'm sitting at home. Alone. I don't enjoy it. It's difficult to be alone, especially in a city where personal space is a luxury you almost have to pay for.

If i'm alone its my fault I suppose. And that's not me being depressing, that's fact.

I'm in a mess right now. I really am. I got overwhelmed last year by a lot of things and I let that get the best of me and now here I am. Months away from 30, on academic probation, mostly jobless and near debt. I'm taking a last chance shot at the one job/life I want desperately despite the fact that it may not want me. Am I crazy? I must be, becuase I haven't fully given up hope for some reason.

I sit here, alone, feeling sorry for myself. Then I look at what happened in the Midwest friday, where whole towns have been erased and it makes me angry at myself. Angry that I let my own problems get the best of me when people the nation...the world over suffer far greater than myself. And yet they will persevere.

I know that these people will help others, pick up and push on because thats what we as humans should do when faced with adversity. But then I see that a lot of us have become so self important, so self involved that we don't even realize it. Geeky as it may sound, Darth Vader said it best; "Don't be to proud of this technological terror you've constructed."

Modern technology is a wonderful thing yes, but I fear it has taken us to far away from ourselves. We are losing the battle for originality, for imagination, We are losing it to a screen, a wire, a button and soon enough, we will be so far lost that there will be no way back. Everything is moving at such a brisk pace that what was new yesterday will be old tomorrow. How did we become this way in such a short period of time?

We are a great people. We're better than this. Way better. No one has a piece of Serenity anymore, everyone has to be alert and at the ready even when they sleep. No one knows the value of laying in the grass on a sunny day,staring at the clouds and daydreaming for a few hours anymore. No one remembers how peaceful it was to sit by the window on a cool day and let the sun warm you while you read a great book(And yes I mean that thing with the pages. Made from paper.) with a cup of hot chocolate. Few people remember a time when you could sit around the radio and listen to music.

Yes, I know, i'm waxing nostalgic, yearning for simple pleasures, but is that too much to ask for? I don't think it is. At least every once in a while.

I don't know, maybe i'm just a lonely guy wishing for better days. I know i'm not the easiest person to know, and i'm sorry for that, but one thing i'm not sorry for is how I think.