Fear of Vulnerability

I want you to see me how I wish I was, not how I really am. Because who I am is scared and weak and not in control. He stumbles on his words and is wrong a lot and makes mistakes all the time. And revealing that makes me feel vulnerable. But if you don't get to know that person, your relationship isn't with me at all.


Humans are like snails. We're soft and weak and vulnerable (and even a little gross?) on the inside. When something scares us, we hide behind our shell, the image people have of us. And we feel safer that way because the shell is stronger and polished. It's prettier to look at. We may even have several different shells for different occasions. But that's not us. It's not real. And those relationships leave us unfulfilled because they aren't real.

We all want to believe the image we project. Maybe if we play pretend and believe it hard enough, we'll magically change into what we want to be. Or perhaps more accurately, if we can get others to believe it. Perhaps that's why we put so much value on the perspective of others. We're seeking that validation. But on a more devious level, we want to know if the illusion is working.

But when we're alone, the shell doesn't exist. We can try to put it up, but it needs an audience to materialize. We can't fool ourselves. That's why so many people are afraid to be alone. They feel naked and exposed because they can't fool themselves anymore.

Until we learn to overcome this fear of being vulnerable, we can never have a real relationship with anyone. It's scary, but it's worth the risk. Because the alternative is feeling alone for the rest of your life.

p.s. Don't get me wrong. Shells/images of us can be very useful in social settings and professional relationships. But for intimate relationships like friendships and romantic connections, this approach will only hamstring you.

A Failtacular Adventure

So tonight was an eventful night where nothing happened. I know, it sounds confusing. And it was. But it will make sense in a minute.

My dad is coming to visit me this month. The plan was for me to get a ride down to the airport and meet him there so we could ride back to my place together and he wouldn't have to face the horrors of LA rush hour traffic alone. Plus, I don't get a ton of visitors out here so maximizing my time with my father was a nice incentive too.

I managed to bum a ride off my friend Zech who works in Venice and rode down with him when he went to work at 3pm. We hit good traffic and made it to Venice by about 3:50. And my dad wasn't getting in until 7-7:30. So I went to a coffee shop for a while to see if another friend of mine was working. He was not. Then I had a decision to make. My dad wasn't getting in for 3 hours and I was 6 miles away from the airport. I could sit there and watch the Avengers and still have a couple hours to kill when it was all said and done. Or, I could walk to the airport and meet my dad at the gate.

I went with the latter because, why the hell not? I'm young. I have the time and good health to make such a trek. I won't always have either of those things. And a day will come when I'd be willing to walk 1,000 miles to see my father and won't be able to, so I'm living for the now. Besides, I had just completed a 9+ mile hike up and down a 3,000 foot elevation change a few weeks ago. This would be a cakewalk.

Off I went, walking through Venice Beach and Marina Del Rey, the sun setting behind me. I walked in silence, I commented on my surroundings. I talked to God. I sang and whistled. I watched the final 20 minutes of "Star Wars: A New Hope" in my head, complete with a full John Williams score, which I whistled and hummed (yes, apparently I can do that now). And before I knew it... I was half way there.


Now, it's important for the rest of the story to note that my phone was running dangerously low at this point. I had, in fact, turned it off for the entire second half of my journey as the battery had dropped below 10%. Keep this in mind.

The walk was quite an experience. It felt good since I've been struggling with a stuffy nose all week. Being able to exercise with no symptoms was a nice reprieve. It was a beautiful evening, as most are in Southern California. The big regret I have was not having a travel companion on this trek. Because memories are always better shared. But alas.

I finally arrived at the airport right on schedule. LAX is really not designed for pedestrians. That place is so huge. And Delta is all the way over at Terminal 5. I guess that's still better than if it had been all the way at the end, but my hips weren't too into being grateful for small mercies at that point. Besides, my plan hinged on me actually running into my dad, since my phone had only a few precious moments of talk time left, so timing was important.

I found the terminal where the plane was set to arrive and I settled in to wait. And wait. And wait some more. I took out my phone and turned it back on. No messages. I called my dad. No answer. What was going on? I didn't have much time to find out, my battery was getting lower by the second.

I called my mom to make sure I didn't have the wrong airline. "Hey, Dad's flying on Delta right?", I said. "Yea, I think so," she replied, somewhat incredulously. "Ok good, because I've been waiting here for like 45 minutes and he still hasn't come down--," I shot back before she interrupted. "Oh no! He's coming next Thursday! Did you think he was coming today?", she asked, and continued before I could respond, "He thought you were coming today!" She's talking to him. He's right next to her. Well done Luke.
 
It's rather disappointing to expect your father to be visiting you for the next several days and then find out that he's not coming. I mean, at least he's coming next week, but it's still a bit of a letdown for me. Through a series of miscommunications, and probably a small amount of wishful thinking on my part, I had indeed managed to convince myself that my dad was coming a week before he actually was. Just one of those many small mistakes one makes in one's lifetime. But this one is gonna stick with me for a while.

I quickly wrapped up the conversation, with just about 1% battery life, then removed the battery to preserve that percentage point as much as possible. I was gonna need that last drop of juice before this night was over. And my night was far from over. I was on my own now.

Some of you more forward (or backward?) thinking people may have recalled that I had been planning to return to my home in Burbank (a mere 30 miles away) via by dad's rental car. Stranded and alone, many miles from home, I had to move on to Plan B. I made for the Metro station.

Now this part of the journey was, thankfully, fairly uneventful. I mean, I was quite tired from my hike and had not been planning to walk much more the rest of the night. But riding on the Metro isn't terribly news worthy for most people, and is downright commonplace for millions. For me, this was the farthest distance I had ever had to cover on public transit, by a fair margin, so it was somewhat noteworthy in that regard.

From the Green line, to the Blue line to the Red line, I made the switches and sat in silence. The approximately hour and a half long ride gave me lots of time to reflect and think about things. Unfortunately, I had already used up a lot of my thoughts on the long walk preceding this, so I wasn't left with much. I did spend a fair amount of time thinking about what I would do when I arrived at my destination though.

As you may recall from just a few paragraphs ago, my phone was on it's last leg. And I had shortsightedly given my last bits of change to a homeless man along the way, meaning payphones weren't a viable option either. So I had one shot, maybe less, to get a call to a friend and get them to pick me up at the station or I'd be potentially facing another 4.5 miles of walking to get home. I had to call someone that wouldn't be busy, but who was also someone that would be willing to help me out. Someone close would be best. And I had to talk fast.

After much consideration, I called my buddy Graham Richardson. And praise Jesus, he was available and willing to come pick me up without much explanation for why I needed to be picked up at a Metro station in the first place. Seconds after I hung up the phone, it died. Awesome, pulled it off.

Crap, I didn't tell him my phone was gonna die.

Long story short, I eventually tracked Graham down in the parking lot, about 5-10 minutes after he had arrived. We were on opposite ends of the parking lot and neither of us wanted to move for fear of missing the other.

There you have it. All told, this adventure took me about 8 1/2 hours. As I said before, quite an eventful day that ultimately led nowhere. But boy would it have been better with a partner...

Sorry for the traveling break

We're back. Let the great experiment recommence!

I pounded frantically at Derek's door. Even now I remember not knowing what I was going to say when I saw my friend. How could I explain what I was running from? If I told him I was terrified of a spooky feeling I had encountered in the woods, I'd never hear the end of it. What was I going to tell him?

The door opened before I could come up with something. "Mitchell? What's wrong?", he asked. "Ghosts!", I blurted out. Maybe I should have just gone with the truth after all. "In the woods," I added hasitly in anticipation of his next question. "Don't stupid. There's no such thing as ghosts," he shot back as I pushed past him and into, what I believed to be, the relative safety of his house.

After I had a chance to calm down, I was able to shake it off and we played inside throughout the rest of the day. Of course, Derek made sure all of our games involved ghosts somehow, but I was able to keep a straight face about it. I knew it would only get worse if he knew how much it bothered me. I was almost able to convince myself that it didn't bother me even. Almost.

But as I lay in my sleeping bag that night, in the basement of Derek's house, my thoughts strayed once again to that fateful encounter in the woods. The memory almost seemed to feed off of the fear deep within me. I knew I wouldn't be free of it until I faced it again. I had to know, for better or for worse, what could cause such a thing.

I'm pretty brave, I thought. I'll bet Derek wouldn't want to face something like that. He'd be too scared for sure. I comforted myself with these reassurances as my eyes became heavier and heavier. He's not worthy, I added, before going on to think that it was a strange thought to have just as I drifted in unconsciousness and both thoughts escaped from my waking mind.

And the Experiment Continues!

I'm really looking forward to seeing how my mood on a given day affects my writing, even within the same story. The fact that I'm not planning ahead leaves this story subject to my mood swings and life circumstances; even the weather. This could be exciting. Let's get back to it.

Smells have a funny way of sticking with you. Like how the smell of cookies can instantly transport you to your grandmother's kitchen. Only this smell was not like that. It was vile, almost malicious, and filled my heart with dread. Like a weight upon my tiny soul. It was almost more than I could bear as I struggled to maintain my consciousness.

It was fear that carried me through in the end. Fear of what an encounter with something that could cause such oppression from afar would do to me if it found me. I held onto that thought and stumbled back towards my house.

My world appeared, on the surface, to be remarkably the same. The cottonwood seeds still littered my yard, dancing in the wind gusts. My basketball still sat in the grass, sunbathing where I had left it days earlier. But I knew something was wrong now. My flight response had left my heart pounding in my chest, each beat like a hammer strike.

My mother was at work and wouldn't be home for several more hours. So I continued to fly, past my house, spilling into the street. "I'll go to Derek's house," I thought, "His older brother is always roaming around in those woods. He'll know what it is."

Now Derek's house was over a mile away, but in my heightened state I managed to cover the distance in record time. World record, it seemed to me, though it surely was a laughable notion. But it's a worthless exercise to try to convince a frightened child of such things.

I will once again make mention of the odd nature of memory, as this detail has always stuck with me. Perhaps it was the adrenaline. But the insignificant details that rally to recollection when summoned once more in old age never cease to astonish me. As I ran, I recall being struck once more by the seeming normalcy of the neighborhood. There was Mrs. Johnson's dog Baxter chasing a squirrel across the lawn. It struck me that he had caught one once years ago, and had sulked for days to have lost his "playmate". Dogs are dumb.

And so I arrived at Derek's front door.

Things I Write When I Should be Sleeping

This is gonna be a slightly experimental exercise so bear with me a little. An exercise in BS. I'm gonna try writing a story here, a couple paragraphs at a time, with no forethought or planning, and see how it comes out. I'll just be making it up as I go along. One sentence at a time, not sure where the next sentence will bring me. I don't know how long the story is gonna be, but I'll try to write often and keep the story moving so you aren't all caught up in suspense. Now...

How did it start? I've been asked that dozens of times over the years. And I don't think I have any better understanding of it today than I did when it happened. It's just one of those things that happens sometimes. In a universe full of a billion, billion things, everything has to happen somewhere right? But I am avoiding the question. I guess I'll just tell you what I've told all those curious people over the years: it started at the beginning...

When I was a young man I never cared much for socializing. I was a social pariah, though few would believe me, by choice. Other people were little more than an amusement, a curiosity to be observed from a distance. I guess I was always a scientist at heart. Who was I to contaminate the experiment?

All this time to myself didn't go to waste though. I would spend hours playing in my own imaginary world, alone in the woods behind my mother's house. My father had abandoned us when I was born. Or drank himself to death, or joined a traveling circus. I could never get a real answer out of my mother. She never talked about him much. Or at least she didn't sober.

But in those woods, I was safe. They went on for miles, one of the last untamed pieces of land left in New America. I would fight dragons and warlocks. I would rescue princesses and discover hidden treasure. I'd stay out there for hours and then I'd come home and write it all down, reliving every exciting moment all over again.

I don't remember the specific day it happened; what I had for breakfast, what clothes I was wearing and the like. It's strange how we spend so much energy worrying about trivial things like food and clothes when it's the seemingly trivial things that linger in your mind the longest. And what are we if not a collection of memories?

I remember the way the cottonwood seeds hung in the air that morning, like the slowest snowfall you've ever seen. I remember seeing the tracks of some wild animal that I still have never identified. And I remember the smell. I think, in some small way, it has never truly left my nostrils in all this time.

Been slacking off

Apologies for the more than a week that I've not written my blog. I think I'm more or less past the "30 days" that I had originally set out for, but I still would like to be writing every other day or so if I can. And if there's one thing I have in abundance right now, it's time to write.

There isn't much to say in the way of news. Super Apartment Bros. didn't get into the Machinima Festival, but odds are you either knew that already or you figured it out when I didn't post about it. Oh, and the "Locked In" thing fell through because the production dates got pushed back and I'll be in Minnesota for Christmas by then. So that sucks. Out $90 and I don't get to do what sounded like a legitimately awesome time. In other news, I'm planning an epic hike up a big mountain north of Glendale for January 1st. It's kind of intimidating but it will help keep me working out while I'm at home. At least a few times. I've been hiking as much as I can the last couple weeks to help prepare for it. Treadmills and stationary bikes are fine, but they aren't the same as an actual hike as far as actual strain on the muscles (and as far as aesthetic for that matter).

But back to Super Apartment Bros. It has been challenging lately. You work and work and work and hope things will pay off, but nothing happens and nothing happens some more. Sure we're up to over 50,000 views and we should be surpassing 1,000 subscribers within the next day or two. But we've worked our butt off to get those numbers. And they're still just a fraction of what we feel this series deserves. 50,000 views doesn't mean what it used to on youtube (Eric's "Wheatley vs Guilty Spark" video had more than double that in a single week, where it's taken us 5 months and 20+ videos)

I don't mean to sound ungrateful because we've more than tripled our subscriber base in the last 50 days. I am very appreciative of every subscriber we get. It's been such a struggle, just shouting out into the void of the internet, so even the few drips from this faucet are very satisfying. It's just frustrating to work so hard, and hope that your hard work will finally be rewarded, only to have nothing happen and have to face the reality of returning to the long fruitless grind with no end in sight.

Anyways, we're hoping to have the final two episodes (our two part finale) done within the next month or so. They are going to be epic, on a scope that we haven't come close to attempting before now, so I hope they live up to my expectations. We've got plans to spam some big video game blogs and really make a big stink about the finale so stay tuned for that and how you can help out on that front. We are hopeful that we will have more success on that front now that our channel has many more views and subscribers than the last time we tried to contact blogs. With a coordinated blitzkrieg, we think we can break through the fluff and maybe get some posts.

But again, that's not until the episodes are finished which may not be until January at the rate we're moving (we also need to raise some more money to cover the cost of the finale, so if you want to help with that, shoot me an email).

Anyways, not my best blog post. Sorry about that. Just kind of scattered today I guess.

Hooray

Some days you're just happy and grateful to be alive. Seriously, you should be every day. But I sincerely doubt that there has ever been anyone in history that didn't take at least one day for granted. Today was not one of those days.

I am just so grateful to be alive and have a life filled with so many blessings. There are so many things I focus on and think of all I don't have, when things like having a roof over my head, a full belly, companionship, love, health and freedom are constants in my life. Thank you God for all the blessings in my life and help me to remember when I'm not in a grateful mood. We are fickle beings.

Today was an excellent day. I went hiking today for several hours with my friend Ali. It was a great time as I did Runyon Canyon and hiked up behind the Hollywood sign (separate hikes). My legs are not entirely excited about the day, but they'll get over it in short order. My working out has started to pay dividends for me as I am quite certain I couldn't have handled those hikes nearly as well (if at all) just two months ago. I was tired when I was done, but I'm pretty sure I could have easily hiked for another couple hours too. Long live healthier Luke!

After hiking we went to a restaurant called "The Griddle", a place I'd heard a lot about in the last few months but never had occasion (or money) to go there. But my mom sent me some happy money for Thanksgiving, so I figured, "No time like the present!". Let me just say that it definitely lived up to it's reputation. The French toast I had was insanely good. I don't know how, but it almost literally melted in my mouth. So good. So for all you friends and family reading this from the non-LA area, I have a new place to take visitors!

I also received a call today from a production called "Locked In", a new pilot for the History channel. Tim had submitted us for the casting call and they are interested in having us on. The show's basic premise is they lock teams of three in a hardware store over night (6pm-4am) and give them building challenges. We will have full access to all the tools and building materials we could want. It sounds like an awesome night to me and I'm really excited about doing it. Also, it pays $90 which isn't too shabby for building random stuff with my friends.

We are submitting more materials but it sounds like they really want us on the show. I'll keep you all up to date on that though.

Other than that, not a lot to say about today. Some days you're just happy. God bless!

p.s. Just a few minutes ago, Super Apartment Bros. reached it's 300th subscription in the last 7 days! It's a new record and blows away the old best by a substantial amount. Still got 11 hours to go to complete the week, so we will see how we end up with that.