1 Year Sober. Lessons Learned. People Loved.

A couple of things you should know about me...If secrets were water I would have drown a long time ago. And I am just as good at making strangers out of friends as I am making friends out of strangers. I used to like to think I was complicated with an almost super natural ability to outwit most of the fiascoes I found myself in. The funny part of delusion is that it's invisible to the delusional. I was a blunt object. I caused wreckage where ever I went.

When there was no one around to abuse I turned most of my strikes inward and took it out on myself. 30 beers a night, topped with some grease shack burger, and multiple rounds of self loathing. When people were around I was chaos covered in fun sauce until I perceived you to be a threat to my fantasy world.

When they say the first step is admitting you have a problem, I never understood why. Logically, I admitted to myself several times that I had a problem with drinking. The difficult part was admitting why and accepting that the problem went deeper than hangovers and weight gain. It forced me to look back on the wreckage of my past with new eyes. I couldn't justify all the pain I had caused by just being this crazy rock n roll championing wannabe anymore. I had to admit I was wrong. I had to look directly into the face of my actions. I had to admit that my past wasn't this rebellious play land of silly antics and admit that it was a dark landscape littered with debris and the lifeless bodies of relationships destroyed. I wasn't so fucking cute anymore. Yeah, admitting you have a problem is deeper than just saying you drink to much. Brace yourself, this ones going to hurt.

1 Month.

After a brutal hangover left behind in 30 Lone Star cans, skipping work, lying about it and bathing in disgust. I knew I couldn't touch anymore alcohol. I knew it was over. The party had ended pathetically. Roll Credits. Sometime a week later I went to a meeting of the like minded and pitiful. I had no expectations, all I knew is that it was the right move. The only move left really. After opening my mouth in the meeting and letting some of the darkness spew into the room, it fell to the floor and was covered by empathy and understanding. These people didn't know me, but like me, they were happy to listen and comforted by knowing that somewhere on the East Side of Austin, this guy was wrestling with a similar fate. I was skeptical but I felt lighter. I knew I had to go back. I didn't hear any magical answer that first time, but I did pick up on the energy and the need to repeat this was set.
Still I was a little concerned that this might be one of my desperate gasps at air before someone saved me and then things could go back to normal,  Normal being a gracious round of drinks followed by a tirade on how I could handle things, I just needed to calibrate and handle it my way. I mean, my way had proven itself numerous times before right? All I have to do is inflate some past victory and then shoot for that imaginary standard. Living in the past was comfortable. It's like getting one good night of sleep then trying to stay awake for a week. The first month brought lots of pats on the back and well wishes. Less concerned but more skeptical friends offered up bits of advice and rationale that only alcoholics had. You could see in their eyes their concern for losing someone that validates them and disdain for the fact that my actions would force them, even for a second, to think about where they were at. I was on the newly sober high, if you will, and things were trucking along with a breezy momentum. I new my sobriety was still weak and my situation volatile. So I kept my mouth shut and avoid becoming a preachy preaching machine and sited my decision to be sober for very personal or superficial reasons. I avoided any real in depth chat sessions about it where I could. Some people wanted to dig deeper and to be honest, sometimes I needed to talk about it outside of a room filled with strangers. It the first month, it felt like more of a novelty to other people and support was easy to give. If I had backed out on the spot, no one would have thought any differently and the party would have raged on as if it never happened. I started on September 26th 2013. One month later was my birthday and my first milestone. I went to a meeting, then I went home and watched TV. Alone. It was sort of a Stoic moment. I needed it. I also didn't quite trust myself yet. So despite the many invitations from wonderful friends to at least hang out...I just absorbed and enjoyed the milestone and was grateful I would not start my 32nd year on this planet hungover and regretful.

Month 2

By now the novelty of this sober experiment was strong in me and to those around me. Momentum had me going and sometimes I felt like it was going a little too easy. I had made a deal with myself that as long as I didn't drink I could do whatever else I wanted. I could eat to my hearts content (or dismay) and smoke and be lazy and just relax. Just don't drink. That was my only objective. Baby steps my friend. You can learn a lot from Bill Murray movies, and so I took an excerpt from What About Bob? and rolled with it. Month 2 was uneventful. Still fielding questions from people that sometimes borderline on too personal and quickly lightening up the conversation. I started to notice that people still didn't really believe it was going to be a real thing. Sometimes I think the questions were to get me to second guess myself and sometimes the questions just felt like people have no sense of boundary. We all know I don't scare easily and on the off chance it might help someone, I would oblige.  But the questions started to thin and a quick pat on the back became the norm. But towards the end of the 2nd month, when people realized I wasn't backing away from all this foolishness, things did start to turn weird. The first of two strange occurrences was that it felt like I had told people I had cancer. After the well wishes were over, the awkwardness set in and people tried to cater to me a little too much or keep me at a distance. It was almost like they didn't want to catch what I had or didn't want to face their own mortality. Again, I tried to be accommodating by avoiding my habit to be overbearingly opinionated and evangelical about my new outlook. I kept it to myself when I wasn't hiding out. I knew better than to push the issue but nonetheless people got squirmy about it. This didn't last forever but the first social lesson I learned is that people had to take some time to come around to this new reality. In their defense, me not being a raging fucking idiot and trying to be the center of attention had to be a little off putting. Almost like I was planning something even more diabolical. But if the change was hard for you as my friend, trust me, it was hard for me too. My feelings aren't hurt. The second weirdness came when people weren't asking me questions about it anymore but I could hear them quietly asking my girlfriend how she was handling it. Again, like I had cancer and now she was tasked with taking care of me. They should almost a concern for her well being as I made a commitment to become better. Lucky for me she is awesome and handled all those perplexing shows of concern like a pro. The second month was awkward like a first kiss but I knew if I just kept going it was get better and I would finally get to the good stuff!

Month 3

The 90 Day time frame is this strange and arbitrary block we tend to give things to determine whether or not they are going to work out. 90 day probation periods at jobs. 90 Day weight loss programs. 90 day probations and so on. In sobriety it is no different. Where you first month is huge, getting to 3 months or 90 days is the first major milestone. I felt that day, just like I do today at my 1 year milestone. There had been enough pats on the back so those subsided. People became a little more comfortable and aware of my sobriety. Now the questions changed tone from less about me to more about the people you can tell had been tinkering with the idea for their own reasons. At AA 90 days is long enough to qualify you for chairing a meeting. By then you should be well read in the Big Book, (Which I was not),and even have some helpful tips and hints to give out. The questions changed for the most part from being personal to "Hey, you still not drinkin?" Then moving on. My birthday had passed and now it was the holiday season which was hard. I could no longer just hide out. If you know me, you know that I don't really get into the holiday spirit cheer as it is, so being forced into a room with family or friends and having those contrived conversations about how life is going is uncomfortable for me to begin with. That was amplified by not being able to self medicate, being bombarded with conversations about sobriety and people glad that I "finally" took that step. Not to mention, I had lost all interest in football. But people saying "I'm glad you finally did it." Is a little insulting. That means you sat for years watching it, but never expressed any concern or support before, but now you sit there like some enlightened asshole that knew the end of the movie the whole time. Whatever, thanks for the well wishes. Anyway, I had come too far to back out now. People were well aware of my sobriety and happy to hold me accountable and be very supportive. Some of the awkwardness was still lingering but it was dissipating quickly. Still allowing myself freedom on all fronts as long as I was sober, was catching up to me. The beer belly was turning into a double cheeseburger with bacon belly and my jowls were on par with John Goodmans or a Saint Bernard. While I wasn't hungover any more, and my health seemingly better, I was just fat and that has it's consequences as well. However, it was the holiday season. Time to eat, drink (non-alcoholic beverages) and be merry. I can put that issue off for awhile. By now my positive affirmations and newly found attitude and lust for life had landed me a new job, new car, more money. I was finally not the boyfriend at Christmas promising to "make it up" to Kim when I got my income tax. I developed a habit of waking up and before letting my feet touch the floor letting God know I was grateful for all of these changes and even the tiny things in life I used to be to drunk to notice. All the good feels were all over me. I felt strong. It felt good.

Months 4 and 5

Because these two months are not governed by that arbitrary time frame stigma, these two months really did blend together. By now everyone had settled down and stopped grieving the loss of the fat drunken party favor clown I used to be. They also noticed that I could still be funny and an asshole while stone sober. Although they did see less of it. The novelty of the journey had worn off by now. Now it was just becoming, the way things are. It wasn't new and shiny and people had grown bored with the inappropriate interrogations or ran out of questions.  Either way I was cool with it. I had cooled off on going to meetings too. Some sense of over confidence came over me and I was slacking. I kept up the grateful routine with God but my journal remained blank and my book remained on the shelf. This took a toll. Without and guidance or insight I was fucking bored too. I grew pretty tired of being hold up in my house or trying to find sober things to do. Most of the time, sober adventures are all alone. I like my alone time...but isolation is a motherfucker. While your friends still love you, they will stop including you. My theory is that they just don't want to put you in awkward or tempting situations, and they also don't want to feel obligated to entertain the sober guy. As reality slips away from your drunk friends in social settings, you may as well be alone because you will have no fucking clue what they are talking about. Funny note though, when someone gets really drunk they will tell you how much they respect and even envy you for your decision. They make a drunken proclamation to join you on the journey. I knew better than to ever take that too seriously because most people will stay sober...until the next time they drink. You can't hitch your wagon to anyone else's on this path. You have to take the ride alone. Aligning yourself with someone else means you also align yourself with their problems, shortcomings, failures, and possible relapses. It's best to be encouraging but avoid it. These months are the first glimpse at how you are going to become an outsider. How you will live on the fringes because drinking is pretty much the norm. These months are eye openers when you get the the stage of acceptance of a brand new reality. These were also the months that you have to start moving on with life. You can't continue to take breaks from improving your plight and using sobriety as an excuse. Still holding strong to my anit-sad medications and shoving my fat neck full of fries, I had to start setting some standards and goals for myself.

Months 6 - 9

Month 6 is the 3rd major mile stone. By now you are sober. Your friends are cool with it, life is good and you are really settling into your new self. Knowing I had started slacking, I got back into my meetings, reading, and writing more. Of course too, keeping everyone updated on my progress. I felt strong and wanted other people to know it's possible. I had heard from some people that knew they needed to make the change in course but were having a hard time doing it. I feel like putting this out there has helped and will help. By 6 months, people looked at me and said, "If that fucking guy can do it, I know I can." Good. Do it. I am here to help if I can. Month 6 I had to start taking some responsibility for the other things I was doing to myself out side of drinking. I was 270 pounds, I had the lungs of a 50 year old according to my doctor at physical. (He had no opinion on my balls after he squeezed them.) Now was the time to truly get on my feet and start moving forward. Enough was enough. I ditched the burgers and started slowly making better diet decisions and trying to get out and do something active more and more. I gave the netflix servers a break and probably disappointed the shareholders at What-A-Burger. I probably single handedly caused some exec to lose his quarterly bonus. I got with a nutrition coach and spent an absurd amount of money eating cleaner and educating myself on how to feed myself properly. Part of that education was learning that you don't have to spend an absurd amount of money. Dammit. Healthy and clean eating started to repair and erase some of the years of damage done by binging  on beer and burgers. My head started clearing up and I was gaining a lot of the confidence I had lost long ago. This time the confidence wasn't bravado meant for the general public, but self confidence in that, I actually felt it. It felt good. It was like I got accepted into some secret club that people had been enjoying for years that I was always invited to but never went because I was scared. Fear kept me drunk. Fear kept me unhappy. Fear was my excuse and master. Not anymore. Fear was becoming my bitch. A healthy diet was great but I was still alone with no social outlet and logging far too many couch hours.

 A suggestion from my nutrition coach to join a bootcamp in my neighborhood was probably one of the best things to ever happen to me. I was mortified at the thought of working out in a group, in public, and being instructed. The truth was that my gym membership had just become this thing I got debited for in case my plumbing ever went out and I needed a place to shower. It was useless. I had no clue what to do and zero initiative to do it. No one cared whether I went or not and I couldn't nail down a routine. The first time I attempted to go was at 5:30am. I had no idea what was going on that early in the morning. I didn't know where to go. I was late. I walked up to the wrong camp. It was the worst. I hadn't started and I wanted to give up. But I had already paid so I gave it another shot, this time at a later class. When you wake up and it is still dark outside, it still feels like yesterday. Why do people do that?

At my first class we did some squats and jumping jacks and walk-outs whatever the fuck those were, and some other things and I was feeling the burn! I wanted to pass out from lack of oxygen. This shit was intense. Then the instructor said "Ok, now that we are all warmed up, lets get into the workout." I wanted to cry. This was not for me. Nope. Not doing it. It's stupid. Not my style. I promptly inquired in how to cancel. After a little encouragement from the coach, I returned and kept plugging away. (Fulling intending to quit when my qroupon was up.) Then something dawned on my. Not only was I losing more weight, but people were noticing. I was actually showing up almost everyday. Each class got a little more manageable to get through in that I wanted to die less and less each time. I started making some friends. People were holding me accountable and encouraging me like my friends had done when I first started sobriety. The difference was, these people didn't know me but they cared. No one asked me or judged me about my sobriety. This quickly became a priority in my life. My days are scheduled around my workouts. I go to all the regular classes and then try to cram in classes at other camps on my days off.

One year after going sober, and 6 months into a truly healthier lifestyle, I am down 50 pounds. I went from a 10 minute mile to below 8 minutes. I can do things of athletic origin that I never thought I had any business doing before. I have encouraged people to put in some extra time and made some fantastic friends. Fucking A...Here come those feels again.

1 Year

I am well into my life now. The thought of going back makes me sick to my soul. I am not out of the water by any means. I was born an alcoholic and certain circumstances in my life have just embedded those sleeping demons deeper and deeper. I am in for life long work. But it beats being in for life long defeat. I still have a hard to reconciling my past behavior. I wish I could heal some of the wounds I inflicted on some of the greatest people to ever have been blessed with. I lost a best friends and a wife because of my madness. I don't ever expect to win them back on any level or for them to even want to tolerate me for me a moment and I know that I don't deserve it. But I wish with everything I have and everything I am that I could just tell them I am sorry. I don't ever think in cliches about how I wish I could "Go back in Time". It's not rational and while it is a comforting thought, it is a distraction and to me means I wish I could change it so that I wouldn't have to accept the responsibility for it. They will probably never know about my new life or how I feel. But a lot of what I do is with them in mind. I will never do to someone what I did to them again. Without them I wouldn't even have had the chance to get my shit together because they saved my life several times. Over and over again they put their lives on hold to take care of the guy passed out on the floor. They put their problems on hold so that I could let mine consume me. They spent countless days in uncomfortable situations so I didn't have to step outside of my comfort zone. It has taken me years to truly appreciate the sacrifices they made for me and I will never forget them for it. I hope that they have gone on to be happier than they've ever been and the sun shines on them always.


Now I can focus on the people that are presently in my life. They are no strangers to the tyranny of an out of control drunk that I am best at being. They have lifted me up and believed in me when I had no idea why or how they could.

My girlfriend Kim was the first person to show me the power of a smile. Her patience is something of legend. She has refused to leave my side when it probably made a lot of sense to do so. She has been encouraging when it seemed like I was intentionally sabotaging myself. She is proud of me no matter how small the accomplishment. I may have gotten sober had she not been around, but I would most certainly not be the man I am today without her. She truly loves me and has helped me learn to truly love myself and in turn I have learned to truly, deeply, and painfully love her. Babe! Love!

My family have always been proud card carrying member of the Preston Fan Club and have taken their share of metaphorical beatings from me too. They have always stood by me. They are always available to talk, though I am sure they wished I would talk more. I am so lucky to have been given a support system like this one. My family, the few I do talk to are truly a blessing.

I don't keep a lot of friends due to my strongly held beliefs that most people are idiots, but there is a small of group that I couldn't live without. My friends that have put up with all my antics are what give me energy. I have a great group of friends that accept me for who I am and even kind of like me sometimes. :) You guys are the best. The few, the proud, the Preston's friends. hahaha


This has been a road hard traveled for me. Even though all day I have been trying desperately to process it. It really doesn't feel that long. But when I look at it in terms of progress...1 year no booze. Lost 50 pounds. I can do pull ups. Fuck, even my credit score has gone up...I know I have come a long way. From a weak shattered clown, I am actually descending on normalcy. Or as normal as it gets with me. Instead of letting some corporation control and poison me almost daily, I am living on my own terms. I have learned that fighting conformity is just another version of conforming but that strengthening yourself is how you truly fight back. I spent years doing what everyone else was doing under the illusion that it made me an individual. Something I thought I treasured. But I was was empty and the only way I felt like I mattered was to fill myself up with alcohol. Now true to my nature, I feel legitimately rebellious. Songs that preach anti-conformity actually make sense now that I am in the minority. The minority of people that step outside their comfort zones and take control of their own lives. I no longer feel powerful because I can run someone over but that I have the strength to get up and walk after I fall. I don't know what the future holds for me but I am not scared of it any more. Today I am finally grateful to be alive. I finally feel like I matter. I finally love myself.



I used to fall...but now I get back up.

All About that Bass? You need to be all about a Salad.

 Ladies and Gentlemen, a few times in the last few weeks I have been complimented a couple times on my newer, nicer attitude and outlook. While I appreciate all the nice comments and the fact that you took the time to notice, I don't want anyone to get carried away. Maybe it's sobriety but I have just stop giving a shit too much about people and choose to ignore the things I use to feed on and attack. However, once in awhile there are these nasty occasions where something is just shoved in your face and you can't seem to escape. Recently, I have been dealing with one of those. A song. A stupid horrible song. All About that Bass/Base...Please allow me to respond to this song and those that listen to it and those that are even championing this song as positive body image anthem.



First things first. Just like with all the garbage that people listen to these days, this song was literally engineered and written to hold your brain captive. To the point you crave it and sing it incessantly. There is a computer that they run songs through to determine their viability as a hit and market it based on the results they get. Similar to the chicken nuggets at McDonalds. Nothing organic or natural about it. Just something to tickle the pleasure centers in your brain and get you addicted like sugar or cocaine. This song will die off soon because like the others that have come before it, it is designed for instant gratification, not timelessness. That is a science you can look up yourself. But we need not get into your sheepish thought processes at this time. Let's focus on this ugly rodent of a song and carry on.


But the most disturbing part is that it is being held on high as a song that promotes a healthy body image. So lets talk about that.

Healthy? Basically this is a song that is telling all of the overweight women in the world that there is nothing wrong with them. I agree with this for the most part too. As long as they are leading a happy life and can look in the mirror and be fine with the person staring back. Some people can and I say, keep on keepin on ladies. Now, flip that coin. Most women are absolutely obsessed with the way they look. The constantly talk about it. It is how they measure themselves in society and in social settings. It's disturbing actually. But probably the most disturbing part is that they say it is because that what society is telling them to do. How society is telling them to be. So lets back up...All you sassy BBW's out there are taking away your own identity to blame someone else, then trying to say that this is your way of being an individual. That doesn't add up. I think it's just that you BBW's love you some BBQ but need a scapegoat when met with adversity on the issue. In our country things have changed some where now HEALTH and FITNESS are the measure of not only women but men alike. The mindset is different and there is a distinct possibility that people are really not judging your appearance but your lifestyle. You complain about your situation but rarely do anything about it. Drown your sorrows in ketchup then the rest of us have to listen to long explanations about how you can't help it because of this or that, but at no point to you point the finger back at yourself, get off the fucking couch and workout, or exchange a burger for a salad.

So instead of changing and making yourself happy with yourself, you seek out enabling materials. Role models, magazines, books, and songs. You take a position against what you claim society is forcing on you and women that look and feel differently about themselves.

Now, I know a few girls that have always been thin and have a very hard time putting on weight. See they have physical conditions that keep them from this. They truly can't help it. Now I know that one of the many skills acquired in the fatty life is thinking of reasons why you can't help it. You have thyroid issues, your kids caused it, and the list will go on. The reality is that most of those are bullshit. Shoving snickers bars down your necks and chasing it with Dr. Peppers, isn't a medical condition. Not really. The closest thing to that is alcoholism and there are treatments for that. Again, it's going to come back to personal responsibility. But what you are effectively doing is casting yourself as a persecuted outsider while doing that exact same thing to another group of women. You are telling women that men prefer a girl with "meat". So the girls that struggle with medical issues that keep them skinny are then alienated and told by you that they are undesirable and something is wrong with them. So to fight your cause, you do the exact same thing that is been done to you. And that is where my sympathy flies out the window. Until you can ditch the stereotype of girls being competitive and catty to one another, then you are going to keep going the way you are going. It is self perpetuating. Like it or not. You would actually think that with the all the adversity you claim to overcome, you would have empathy for the others out there facing the same thing just in a different way. You would think this would be something that you would all come together on and try to take the focus away being judged on your aesthetics and lift yourselves up as a group. But you can't do that because you are literally obsessed with finding a mate and frustrated that the quality mates don't want any part of your back fat. So now you write songs tearing someone else down. This is exactly what we are taught bullies do in grade school. Good job.

The worst part is that not only are you defending gravy mountain, but you are doing it with such a stupid fucking song. This is proof that the problem starts in your cholesterol soaked brains.

Here are the facts. Most guys like a girl that compliments him and his lifestyle. Drunks seek out drunks, Runners like runners. And Fatties like fatties. I don't think I could successfully navigate a relationship to the promise land with a fitness model because my heart is not in her lifestyle. But I can tell you that I have to have a woman that has some self respect, goals, and the drive to be better. Not just better with how she looks, but in her career, her health, and success with her life in general. So when I see a giant couch dwelling, pizza snorting, loaf of fatassery, I don't tink think that would compliment my life or my ideals very well and I stay away. Not because she's fat, but because of the lifestyle it must take to get someone down that road. I want no part of it. So I know it's hard to look passed your fat, but you have to look deeper into why you are undesirable to those people you would have as your life mate. It's a combination of things. Maybe look at things like a combo meal for perspective.

So the next time you are shaking your giant ass to that song thinking of how everyone else is the one with the problem, first think about yourself. Are you truly happy or are you avoiding the real issue? Second, think about those girls that you are putting your big fat foot on. Do they deserve this? Third, stop hating beautiful women. The fact is that people will like beautiful people more than average people forever. Luckily I was born with Brad Pittish looks and never have to worry about anything ever. I am one of those fortunate ones....eh...yeah...er...just go with it. Then last, ask yourself, if maybe you should turn off that radio, put down those fries, and get to work. First work on the fact that you are much more than your body, then work on the body you will be happy with.

13 Years Later

13 years ago our country was delivered a devastating blow at the hands of extreme militant cowards.

It is one of those events that burns into your mind and you can remember the exactly where you were and what you were doing when it happened. It was terrifying, stunning, and deeply depressing. For this reason I never care to relive that day in any form. I don't watch movies about what happened, including the conspiracy films. I don't watch the videos of the crashes. I don't relive it in the form of news or radio broadcasts from that day. The memory I have is all that I need. Also, frankly, I don't care where you were or what you were doing that day either. It doesn't matter. I don't need to feel what I felt that day over and over.

I don't need to feel it because the effects of that day are still rippling through our nation and every cultural nook and cranny of our society.

For a brief moment we were brought together in a wave of patriotism and a wonderful feeling as one nation, one community. But all of that quickly dissipated and we starting seeing the flags that once flew proudly from car windows being run over on the freeway. Patriotism went from being a sense of pride for our country to being an outlet for anger, intolerance, and hatred. That day became a sound bite or politicians to use for campaign gains. It became a banner for our backwood rejects to wave around and wear on t-shirts, without actually offering anything to truly better our country. We swiftly became polarized, No one can remember that day without spitting out some kind garbled mess laced with political points of view. You have to sit through conservative propaganda or liberal conspiracy anytime the subject is broached. It is a dishonor to all of those that needlessly lost their lives.

Now we live in fear and the events of 9/11/01 are the spring board for all kinds rhetoric that will label you a trader or blasphemer if you disagree with any agenda even ones having nothing to do with that day.

Since then our society has deeply dumbed itself down. We waste hours of our lives watching rich people live theirs through scripted nonsense we call reality TV. We made a backwoods hillbilly child a start so we could gawk are her like an animal and we follow intently what rich people all over the world are doing. As long as they are fucking and fighting, we stay glued to the TV. If I were to ask someone what the latest was in the world of the Kardashians, I would surely be in for a half hour run down of relationship and new product line updates. If I asked what was going in the war that everyone so adamantly loves to express opinions on, they would regurgitate whatever they heard last from their brief passing look at their news station of choice but that would be about it. We are only conveniently concerned.

Our political and religious agendas stand squarely in the way of any innovation or progress. Grid lock is the norm for our government. This is on any issue that doesn't have to do with rich people getting richer. I think all politicians agree that the rich stay rich. At least we have that. We will stick to the script until it all blows up in our face.

In the private sector people are claiming to build empires based on trends and market research as opposed to taking any risks with ingenuity or innovation. Take an old idea and put the swagger on it then sell it to the product hungry consumer zombies that are haunting the floors of every mall in America. Bombard the masses with needless objects that will keep them glued to their TVs and applauded by their equally brain dead friends.

Our entertainment industry is designed to keep us seated and sedated and stupid. About as deep as people want to look into music are songs about big asses, fucking, money, and the recovery from a broken relationship. Music that has inspired introspection is now just about being self centered. Only repetitive beats, manufactured specifically to what the industry knows you subconscious will respond to and lyrics that inspire you to do whatever can to improve your social standing or get over a lost lover. As long as we can get drunk and dance to it, we are fine. Just don't make us think.

People are obsessed with relationships but no one knows how to make one work. I almost expect when I meet a family for some of the kids to not look like both parents. What we fail to realize is all that nonsense from movies and music we eat is garbage and real life does not end on two people kissing atop a skyscraper or in the rain at sunset.

We complain constantly about our food but the majority of our population still gravitate to drive thrus and eat meals from paper bags. Then we claim to have no personal responsibility for this decision. We are corrupted and held captive by corporations. We are completely comfortable with the fact that someone else is making our decisions. We want to be free but we want the government to step in and make these corporations stop making our decisions...it doesn't make sense.

If we aren't blaming corporations, we are blaming the government and no one turns their finger toward themselves. No one really stands up to do anything about. We have become a nation of slacktivists where the lengths we will go is only as far as our social media pages will let us. We think that clicking and reposting is the answer. We hold this act up as a way to raise awareness. We are all more aware of things than ever before but no one is actually active. We will repost but we won't donate. We will dump cold water on our heads to keep from donating. We will tell of the struggles of the impoverished and less fortunate but we will not volunteer our precious TV time to actually helping.

We are in a constant state of fear and war, poverty, and sickness but yet we have people that principled stances on things like public breast feeding. We are secure from outside threats of terrorism but our own police force have turn into abusive bullies with little to no accountability. Our schools are run like prisons, and at home kids are treated like accessories or extensions of their parents style and we can't seem to understand how we are failing our youth. But still, lets sign a petition that says women can breastfeed in restaurants. Divert your attention from the bigger issues and lets work on our pettiness.

Where once we were united as one nation with a common enemy, now we are back to our old ways with racism and hatred. Racism is a game no one will ever win in this country. There are so many hateful biased people on one side and on the other it doesn't matter what you do or say you are racist. For me, being white, I have to watch what I say or do and tolerate the reversal in racism. We justify this through "Well you started it" policy. So I must pay for the sins of true ignorant bigots. Also, I am not allowed to have an opinion about things that directly affect me if it has to do with another race. No one can accept that we all have biases and that is not going to change. No one seems to want to accept that you are perceived by how you present yourself and that if you don't want to be thought of a certain way then you should probably not act the way you do. This is a across the board for every race, gender, or sexual orientation. And if you want people to take your cause seriously, then you need to take yourself seriously.

I think that basically what I am getting at here is that 9/11 for me was horrific and I had hopes that the country as a whole would work to become greater afterward, but we haven't. Somewhere along the way we sold our souls for security and toys. Memorials are sponsored by corporate pirates and we run out to buy their shit as fast as we can. We have developed an uncanny ability to live in denial about the true state of our union. We keep our heads buried so deep in bullshit that we have lost our ability to do actual great things. Now we just buy things and watch things, get fat, and hate people. Bullets and social media have become the new national pass times. We were once a nation of great men and women and now we are a bitter hole that celebrate pregnant teenagers and worship narcissism.

My brother and my father both went over seas to fight. I am not for a second discounting the sacrifices they made for what they believe in and our country. I am however saying that I wish they could have come home and known they fought for something a little better than what we have now.

So while you are reminiscing and taking this opportunity to let all your friends know just how much you love your country, think about how you could make it better. Think about how you could do something with your life that would reflect in a positive light what it is to be American. Think of someway you could be looked at with pride as opposed to an ever inflating fast food fueled mall fiend.

I love my country. I like the idea of what we have. I just feel the bright light is fading. What could you do to make your country better? What could you do to show that we have prevailed over this evil? What can we do?

God Bless America.