To Reflect Upon the Moon: What's a Word Worth?

Music:
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VVOFibwVMw0
     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J4fUdY1PGhY
     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P-RdTjI5bmg
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WtGqgFyQkSY
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RPE8EesftLg
     Today is a selection of music that truly defines my experience growing up for me.
     They are all meaningful pieces to me from various video games.
     If you don't listen to much "video game music" I think you may be surprised as to its depth.

Reflection:
      My greatest weakness throughout my life has been that I have never been able to focus. The only thing I could really concentrate on was video games—that's probably why I played them so much. For any unaware, video games are more than a simple hobby for some. There is a unique sort of culture, born from the internet, behind it. Those who choose gaming as their main pursuit may even come to feel the pass-time as part of their identity. Such individuals may refer to themselves as "gamers." And for a time,that was definitely me.
     The problem with this lifestyle though is everything is an illusion. I've saved the nation, the world, the princess, or what have you, more times than I remember. I've defeated dragons and zombies and robots and armies of samurai. I've been killed by lasers or swords or claws or bottom-less pits. I've built the moon! I've explored other worlds! I've made friends, and helped them as they have helped me along whatever epic adventure we were undertaking. I've fallen in love.
     Except I didn't do any of that, I only thought I did. I was actually just sitting there, watching different colored light blink on a screen. The real world was in no way effected by my grand accomplishments. Yet when I sat down in front of the screen with controller in hand I was sucked in. I was no longer that weird kid in 5th grade getting picked on. I was no longer that awkward teenager with few social skills. I was there. I was in the game. I was the hero, doing things such as listed above. But then it hit me, almost exactly a year from today, looking back on my life, I had not actually done anything. Yeah I'd played a bunch of video games and could make conversation about them with others who also have, but had no epic tales of my own to tell (aside from my comic misadventures living in Connecticut of course). At the end of the day, when I shut the power off, the nation still had a bunch of problems, the world was still messed up, and love was still a mystery (though I was lucky in that for a time). Video games are an enthralling and captivating experience, and I have learned quite bit from them, but they give you nothing tangible to show for your efforts.
     More than anything, I wanted to be more than just a "gamer." Some people played a instrument instead, or learned some other form of art, and could now use it to express themselves. Some people practiced some trade and now they were really good at it and could use it to make a living. Some people gained valuable knowledge and could go help people in the world somewhere. I can beat more than 99% of the worlds population at Super Smash Brothers. Great... So I decided to put the controller down. I decided to pick up these other pursuits I've wanted to do but always felt that I couldn't. I started with the guitar, then started writing poetry, then just writing. The decision to go on my own adventure came soon after. And now I'm here, and you're reading my adventure blog! That alone makes me happy, but there's more to do than just blog.

Since leaving on my journey, I've wanted to find some quiet place of solitude where I could exist for a time and focus myself on my non-cycling endeavors. Back at home, there were so many distractions, constantly, everywhere. Video games were not the only time suck. The internet and all it has to offer, for example. The line between productive endeavors and wasting hours on the following is fine indeed:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t3NOYMzVC3s
   There are a plethora of activities at our finger tips at any given moment in modern living. I wanted to remove myself from all of them. Just me in the woods, with pen and paper. When I picked up the harmonica, I was excited for that pursuit as well. However, I never stopped. I just kept riding. I could have easily headed to some national forest along the way with some extra food and given even just a day—but I was afraid. I was afraid that, going where there was nothing, I would still find some way to waste my time. I wouldn't be able to focus and I wouldn't practice harmonica or writing or even read one of my books. If that happened, it would confirm a fear of mine that the only thing I'm really good at is riding a damn bicycle, and even though I could learn some other skill, I don't have the focus to do it, so I might as well just go back to teaching.
     However, since being forced to stop in one place for a while with nothing to do beyond take care of myself and my endeavors, I am proud to report that I have indeed been spending most of my time reading, writing, and practicing. This is actually a big accomplishment for me, and I have been truly and genuinely happy these past few weeks abiding by the river, humbly working on the things important to me. Now, I must find an environment that is not neutral as by the river is, but one that actually encourages and propels me to focus on learning and practicing.

   As a short aside, I still want to be a teacher. If there is any valuable skill I have, it is that to guide a person's understanding through something, specifically kids. I do not claim to be a master pedagogue but I'm pretty confident that if I know something and someone else doesn't, I can get them to know it too; if they listen. I have a couple different plans to continue teaching after my journey, but those can all wait for now!

     Story:
     I awake as usual to the neighborly chirping of the pair of cardinals who also reside here at the river. Unsure if my plan today will work, I dose back to sleep a bit, until that **** rooster across the river begins his obnoxious cockadoodledooing (just kidding, I love it). I look around my tent at the mess from the past couple weeks. With a clearer mind, I muse on just how swimmingly my plan has been going so far so I figure I had better get started. Still, moving has been difficult these past few weeks. I simply cannot move my left arm at all (though feeling and dexterous functions has returned to my left hand) and sort of gravity induced inertia results in pain. Luckily I've got good strong legs, so squatting is easy!

More later, sorry time up!


     Poetry:

      "Introspection Exercise"

     What's your favorite word?
     Go on, think of it.
     You really aught have one, in case you don't.
     Come back later with it, if you need some time.
     You've got it? Okay. Then we're ready.
     Now I'm sure you know that word's dictionary definition.
     But what does it really mean?
     What does it mean to you?
     Another way of asking this—Why did you choose that word?
     Don't ask me, I'm not you!
     Come back when you know.
     Alright, now that you figured that out, get another perspective.
     What does that word say about you?
     If you're not sure go ask someone!
     Finally, last question: When did this become your favorite word?
     That is, at what point in your life could you have first said, "I love this word"?

     Words have power.
     When we speak, we are literally propelling some energy into the universe.
     Energy that has direction. Energy that has meaning.
     Do not throw your word about lightly.
     It is a part of you.
     When the time comes, you may change it.
     But until then, own it.
     It is your word.
     Keep it.

     Pictures:

Check out this awesome pyre I made.
Wish you coulda seen it go up woo-ee!

I call this stuff fire manna.
It lights up really well.

It was everywhere 'round my tent and for a while I had no idea where it was coming from!

Sorry Ana, I gave your harmonica away to some kids that watched me walk by everyday!
I got a nicer one in Asheville, and instruments aught to be passed on, right?

Freshly showered, I feel like a new man!

My generous friend Brandon whom allowed me to bathe at his home also has this obnoxious pet goat.
I had to wrestle it out of the house. It was climbing on the table knocking everything over and getting into the dog food!
It's like a cat AND a dog... In one... With horns,,,

Here she is, the Ol' Girl!
No trip to The South is complete without the impulse purchase of a vehicle held together by duck tape, zip ties, and faith!