Defying The Odds Foreword

Here is the beginning of my book I'm working on 'Defying the Odds.' At the request and suggestion of others I've begun to reconstruct this foreword and lengthen it to include details of the exact nature of what I struggle with and a few situations I've overcome to help the reader better grasp what I mean.

FOREWORD:

As I sit here slowly drinking a beer I'm trying to piece together the correct way of starting this. I suppose the first thing I should say is thank you to all my friends and family for supporting and encouraging me to finally bite the bullet and write.

Throughout my life people have consistently remarked on how I should write a book and share my story. I never could understand what they saw in me to be so unique or interesting as to warrant creating a book. Indeed I'm sure as you glance at my picture an read this book your thoughts were along the lines of: “Who's this guy, and why should I care?” Both excellent questions, let me offer a bit of insight to my thoughts an my self in response.

I am like dirt. Yes, you read that correctly. Even as you sit or stand there now, you're perched above dirt. Dirt has uniquely without all manner of wars, love, life, loss, birth, death, grown an yet it endures an remains despite what occurs on its surface. So too have I withstood and overcome my own trials and losses and failures and accomplishments so in that sense I am not unlike the dirt beneath our feet.

Hell, I mean I'm just shy of thirty and have never moved out of my hometown, gone to college, or had even a romantic relationship. Yet at the same time I have traveled further then you can imagine, overcome obstacles all but insurmountable and have loved and lost with the deepest of emotion. So who am I? My name is Patrick, and this is my story, my soul an myself that I'm sharing with you. Now I supposed if I wanted to make it more entertaining I could end this foreword with a clever phrase like: “It was many moons ago in the time of my ancestors...”

Friends

I wrote this in under five minutes on a random impulse.

Friends

Aristotle once said that friends are a single soul dwelling in multiple bodies. Would this then mean that our souls have infinitely expanded throughout the duration of our lives? When we meet a person or converse with someone, we are in a sense creating a bond with that individual. That bond in a remote and vague sense could be seen as a form of friendship. This would then imply that for each person we meet and get to know, our soul has thus entered their lives, and theirs in turn has entered ours.

It is not so difficult to think of this as a possibility. In each day we converse with others in a variety of ways. Our words whether written or spoken are designed to be shared with those around us. Through those words we begin the steps to building connections and bonds with those around us. Thanks in part to the use of social media and forums it has never been easier to connect with others.

Often times I have found myself fondly remembering a casual conversation with a random stranger that for some reason or another stuck with me throughout the years. In reflecting on this I do realize that those people most likely and hopefully remember me in a positive way. Thus my soul continues to expand.

As those people in turn share my stories or jokes with others, I also share theirs. This begins a new if somewhat distant connection. I like to believe that through all the connections we share and the memories we’ve formed through others whether we directly initiated them or not, help us see that despite our thoughts or how we may see our lives, we are never truly alone nor without friends.

Delusions of Life

This is an article I wrote a year ago that I put a lot of thought into so I figured I'd share it. Just to forewarn you, I am NOT depressed like you may think by reading this, nor am I suicidal or anything, this was just a way to vent or release my feelings into a constructive form.

Delusions of Life

I've always been aware of how set apart from others I was. Witnessing everyone’s life and reflecting on my own, do I begin to realize I've never really been alive nor led a real life. I find it extraordinarily challenging to converse with people now. What can I say and how can I relate to the stories they share, when I nothing to compare it to? I look on in extreme jealously, envy, even anger and hatred, as all my friends have wonderful happy relationships or marriages, even children, yet I've never even had the opportunity to go on a single date. At least not without the other party viewing me as either a pity case, or using me in some measure to gain social or spiritual status.

Recently my body has begun to fail. Something as simple as a small fall which I would ordinarily shrug off has begun to do permanent or debilitation damage. With each injury and each delay the dreams that I set for myself as goals, have digressed to being just what they once were dreams. I feel as though my soul or my essence is trapped and yearning to burst from its imprisonment of the wretched shattered husk that is my body. I wake up daily and have done so for years, questioning if today will be the day that I release myself from this imprisoned misery and allow my soul, my essence to soar to new heights and see all the sights I always wished I could.
The only thing that has delayed or prevented such actions is the effect it will have on those around me. We lose people all the time in our lives, from family members, to friends, to lovers, it is a consequence of living. It is logical to assume that a life with no experience or worthwhile ability would in any sense be recognized, considered or remembered after it is gone.

You may say that the effect of my decision be it to free myself or simply to disappear would devastate those who cared. Why? We hurt and recognize loss as just that, loss. We often only really acknowledge something once it is gone. Over time even the insurmountable pain of that loss can heal IF it has other things to buffer it (a wedding, a future career goal, a child, a house, or a travel plan.) You may argue why do I not apply that to my own life? It's not that simple.

Daily I am reminded of how difficult things are, how much more challenging they are becoming, of how alone I am and have been, of how sub-human my existence feels and how outside of time my existence really is. It is not something that a goal short or long term can redirect or ease the pain of, at least not anymore. To block out these discomforts and realizations I bury myself into a video game, a book, a song, anything to escape the harshness of an ever present and ever broken life.

In my dreams I am almost always happy. I can remember having abilities, connections, and even in one dream, a wife. These were all such happy moments that I hated the realization that they were only my minds attempts to synchronize with my soul. Waking up is the most challenging daily task. I wish to sleep and to drift in a dream of endless bliss. Courage that I lack is the only thing holding me back. Which ultimately relates again to my being so absolutely incapable and continues to bring me to a degree of pain akin to that of Dante battling through the rings of the inferno.

Why is it that people always say I have potential or that I am a good person? Defining potential is monumental to making or breaking my state of mind. To classify it as just “You could do this, but you aren't” is redundant. I understand better than you what my limitations are. This potential is nothing but carefully presented charisma and a moderate intelligence. I've yet to see any useful or significant ways in which I've personally as an individual effected anyone’s life.

Time will tell what happens to me. I know without any doubt that those care about me will accept whatever I chose to do. If they don't then they either don't care, or see it as an excuse to convince themselves of the reality of the fact that they never really could emphasize with what my life is really like,

How I died.

The rain was coming down in torrents as I darted past the brightly lit neon signs and ducked into the alleyway. I was scared, terrified. I was being hunted. I didn't know why, only that I was going to be killed. Ahead of me were these large treatment pipes crisscrossing in an intricate pattern leading upwards towards a nearby rooftop. I climbed as quickly as I could up one pipe and shimmied onto another before he landed directly in front of me. At least I think it was a he, considering that they were wearing a weird kabuki mask and intricate kimono it was hard to discern gender.  I squared my shoulder and opened my mouth to yell something defiant. An it hit me, no matter what I did or what I said this person was going to kill me. I was going to die. That thought struck me like a thunder bolt. I raised my arms and then with a weary sigh and tears beginning to blur my vision asked quietly. "Will it hurt?" The figure paused and then slowly as if acknowledging my fear and my pain, but unable not to complete the task before them nodded. I wept openly afraid as they stepped towards me a silver glint catching my eye as they withdrew a twisted nail from their sleeve. With drew motions they twirled the object from one hand to the other, snapping their fingers to cause my gaze to slide to the right, as a spear of light drove forward heralding darkness evermore.

Grateful challenge

I was recently selected by a good friend to do the Facebook grateful challenge. Upon consideration I had to withdraw from the challenge simply due to the fact that I'm grateful to myself for having the strength to do what I need or feel like each day and my friends that have enabled me to participate in amazing sports or adventures. However, in no way am I grateful to a divine being. Why? Simple, there exists no such thing as a God. all gods are and have always been a product of mankind. Whether to enslave or subjugate "gods" are merely man made constructs to control the masses. So how and why exactly should I feel grateful for that?

History is ripe with information on how we evolved and came to be. None of this is supported in any Biblical text to date. In fact HUGE portions of events which are key to religion are as we've discovered complete fables. Such as the Garden of Eden, Moses, the Jewish living as slaves  in Egypt all of it is a myth centered around how we understood and labeled things in the old world.  

That being said I concede that being grateful for the friends and joys I have is in itself a good thing. So I suppose on one hand I did complete the challenge if in an unusual way.

Life and it's lessons

I can easily recall so many moments of my life where I wish I had listened to others advice when they initially offered it to me. However, like most young, rash and arrogant individuals I seldom did. Only after the fact when the realization of what could have been or I could have done had passed me by did I stop and realize how much I'd missed out on by not acknowledging the advice of others when it was constructive and worthwhile.

The advice or lessons could be about anything. Whether it was due to a relationship that others had viewed as flawed but in my desire and hopes couldn't see at the time, or simple advice on how to manage things better.

The age old phrase "could've would've, should've" is often quite appropriate. Lamenting over time I'd wasted and relationship that had torn my soul an what remained of my hope and love for people to absolute shreds do I only now begin to realize, I am grateful.  Were it not for those people or those situations, I would not have matured to become who I am today or see the world as I needed to see it.

I now carefully and with great caution select my friends, and those allow into my life. The instant someone tries to change me in accordance with how they feel I should be, I drop that relationship as abruptly as a diabetic drops sugar.  

Learning from my mistakes and situations have as I stated enabled me to grow as an individual. Who's to say that without these trials and learning experiences (mostly of being "friend-zoned" by girls or being taken advantage of in general.) I would even be remotely as level headed and friendly as I am today.

I'll continue this later.

A Vampire in Innsmouth

This is my take on a World of Darkness and Cthulhu style crossover. All respected copyrights are given to the creators and this solely written for entertainment and not for profit of any kind. 

Prologue:

With a blinding flash and a sharp crack that heralded the roar of the thunderous clouds above; the rain began to fall in sheets down on the streets below. The small quaint looking house sat apart from all those on the block. It's paint showing the years of neglect in large flaky patches. The awning overlooking the porch hung low with holes lining its once pristine surface. Due to the heavy rainfall, the streets were empty and silent in the late hours of the night.The interior of the house was as pitch as the night outside seeming to be unoccupied.

With a startling intensity a loud shrill old fashioned phone began to ring from within the darkened interior. The phone was answered on the third trill of the headset.
"Yes?" The voice that answered sounding deep yet smooth and with a seemingly relaxed tone.
"Um, sir, I, that is we've found it sir." A panicked squeaky timid voice answered on the other end.

A smile crossed the features of the man who had answered and in the darkness of the office his eyes seemed to glow a dark red and he received further information, seeming to memorize everything with apparent ease. Without delay he hung up the phone, grabbed a jacket off a nearby coat rack and exited the house heading out into the storm raging night.

I was going to make this the end of the prologue. Any ideas or suggestions whether or not I should include more are most welcome.

Chapter 1: For a Friend

St Louis, March 12, 1936