Chasing Hope


Hope is a funny thing. Such a blessing at times and a poisonous curse at others, it can cause you to do the craziest things. One day you are content with your life and then Hope knocks at your door. She tells you that your life is not complete and that you must travel across an ocean to seek something you don’t know if you will find. But you hope… and apparently that is enough fuel to pull a prodigal son and ask your father for your last year’s college tuition to find someone that doesn’t want to be found. But you hope… you hope that perhaps she will change her mind in the end and want to hug you. You see all the signs telling you that what you are about to attempt is foolish, but instead of ackowledging them you merely write them off as a façade. Because Hope is there holding your hand. She whispers sweet nothings in your ear and you go on that fool’s errand, only to look like a fool in the end.

When you turn around and throw your hands in the air and say “what the fuck Hope? I thought you said things would turn out different?” She only smiles and offers you the other hand, another Hope. That is life really, chasing dreams or tails we still seek that which sometimes never existed. That faceless phantom that is always a step ahead, that is not your mother. It is Hope and she is a fickle bitch.

I still hope one day that I might meet my sister. Her name is Ahn Jong He and she last lived in Busan, South Korea when we were seperated at the orphange. She is probably around 35 years old and I miss her even though I don’t remember her face. She is Hope to me and she is still a dream.

-Opinionated Man

Memories 1… 2… 3…


{I do these often and think they are fun. If you want to accept this as a writing prompt and send me yours I’ll reblog if I like it.}

Streets with no sidewalks – Every time I see a street with no sidewalk it reminds me of Jackson, Mississippi. I grew up there as a kid and there were older neighborhoods with no sidewalks and when I moved to Memphis, Tennessee there were sidewalks. Jackson thus became associated with no sidewalks and it always takes me back to my childhood days of racing bikes and trips to the 7-11 to get candy.

Captain Morgan Rum – I am not a big rum drinker and for good reason. I think I honest to God turn into a pirate when I drink rum. This one time in college my best friend Rallee and I decided it was a good idea to play Chess for shots. He liked Vodka and I liked Captain so we made it a shot a piece and three shots for the loser. I four moved him on the first game and he was quickly a little drunk. The second game got played out and my friends that were watching left to get beers. When they returned all they told us was that we were trying to kill each other… literally. I am sure I had a good reason. The Captain didn’t make too many mistakes.

Eating – Some girl in college said she liked the way I ate… as if I “enjoyed my food.” Whatever that means… but forever I wondered whether I looked like I was enjoying my food… damn her!

Cell phones – When I was a kid I found a cell phone. This thing was old, like the cell phone Zack Morris used in “Saved by the Bell.” If you don’t know what that is I can’t help you in life. Anyways, I couldn’t crack the four digit pin so I gave it to my sister… who did it in twenty minutes. I think I tried calling China… to order Chinese food. Kids right… hehehe….

That was immature – What I just wrote.

-OM

We do what we must


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There was a guy once that lived partially in this world. He didn’t care that often about others because he was too busy fighting his own demons. He lived for himself, he went and found trouble, he would hurt others, and he would sleep it off. That guy died and it was a good day. The sun was definitely shining that next morning.

I often thought I would never marry. That I would never have kids because I could not see myself taking care of another human when I could not take care of myself. The day my first daughter was born I made two promises to her and to god. I promised I would never leave her like my father did me and that I would keep any harm from happening to her. The scary part about knowing yourself is not knowing what you will do in situations… it is not being able to think of things you wouldn’t do. I know there is good and bad in all people and I have struggled to keep my heart filled with more good than the evil. It isn’t easy though when you know the taste.

I have spoken to my wife about the dangers of not only being married to me, but also the consequences of me being a father. Yes, consequences… the fact that I know if anything “bad” happened to my daughters I would not hesitate to see that same wrong happen to others. I don’t write this to act tough for an audience or to have people praise me for being a good dad. These are simply truths that any father worth his salt should know about himself. We make this promise to our babies before they even comprehend our words. Would I kill for my daughters? Yes, yes I would. And I would sleep soundly that night.

I read bad news because it reminds me that there are horrible people in this world. The earth is not full of roses and butterflies, there are vipers and snakes waiting to ruin our perfect lives. I keep this first and foremost in my mind when I consider what may be over the next hill or on the next horizon. I am not a perfect man and I know when I meet my maker, if he or she will even see me, that I will have things to answer for. I also know in my heart that if it comes down to it I will add to my list of transgressions to keep my wife and daughters from knowing even a portion of the harsh realities out there. I make that choice each day and I accept them each night.

Cheers world and goodnight. Sleep well and wake.

-OM

Terrorize Me


With withdrawal comes the return of the night terrors. My wife has been a champ… neither complaining or getting angry at me for waking her during the night. At least I haven’t hit her in my sleep again, small victories people.

Night terrors are not nightmares, but they are often mistaken as such. I have struggled with these for half of my life and most likely many of them are due to suppressed anger issues. At least I have moved my bed away from the wall and no longer have to clean up bloody knuckle prints off my white walls. I am a slow learner, but I do learn eventually.

Since I no longer take my medicine that helped with this issue I have debated on other forms of “help.” Sleep pills are no good. Have you ever had one of those nightmares where you can’t move your body? That is what strong medication does to me. It barely helps me sleep, but it then leaves me at the mercy of whatever dream I am in. That can be unpleasant when that dream is of you being stabbed multiple times. You can’t kick out or scream your way awake, you just lay there trapped. I hate that feeling and because of that I won’t take my melatonin anymore. I have never liked pills anyways, particularly after my suicide attempt. They just make me feel queasy normally.

So I’ll be buying a bottle of Jack on the way home. It is the only “help” I get. The tradeoff is that I have an addictive personality. I will kill that bottle in less than a week and that isn’t a good thing either. We make choices though, we decide the lesser of two evils, be it a bottle or a pill. Perhaps one day I’ll win this struggle, but that day will not be today. It will not be in the near future and accepting that helps you to move forward. To move on each day.

Terrorize me with the worse you can give me world. It will never be as bad as my mind can conjure, and for that I am grateful. I am eternally grateful… and that is much of the reason behind why I can ignore the “hate” online. No one can hate me more than I have hated myself. Chew on that world.

I battle dreams and they present more of a struggle than reality. They are my reality, they are so real.

I thank god for my wife.

-OM

Anger and Addiction


I have anger issues. I know this, I accept this, and I like to think I am working on them. My wife has suggested a few things namely acupuncture, hypnosis, and possible counseling. I am ok with that, but I won’t take anymore “zombie” pills. People take medication for everything these days and I will present myself as the ultimate hypocrite now. I hate pills… and yet I have been an addict for most of my life.

I have an addictive personality. I also have very little patience and this presents an issue when one has a 4 and 5 year old. I make efforts to be a better father each morning because I know I still have a lot to learn. No one is perfect, but our tendencies towards imperfection are no excuse for the allowance of characters that bring us down as a person… as a father.

Night terrors are on the menu lately. With day 3 of withdrawal comes the ugly serpent of sleepless nights, anxiety, and the dreams. Only these are not simply dreams, they are in fact the embodiment of my personal struggles. They come in the form of past adversaries, struggles, and the boiling forth of hate. Hate… such a touchy topic for most because it is viewed in utter negativity by many. My hate is anchored to events and people many of which are situations that were left unresolved. And so I hate the part of my mind that these “troubles from my past” still reside. They visit me at my weakest point.

Choices and decisions must be made and I am still sorting through those. I can’t really express how much I appreciate the patience of my wife. She is an angel when it comes to trying to understand me, to be there for me. Is it fair to her? No, it is not. But life is not fair and that is the realest fact of all.

Day 4

-OM