Late Night Inspiration: Stuck in Between 

I feel like I am stuck in between a dream and the real world. When I wake up I know that I am in the real world. On the way to work, I know I need to drive right in which becomes too real because I know I need to drive safe upon this journey, as to not harm anyone. 

I then go to deep thought. Thinking of all the things not to do. Being aware of other presences= too real. I watch the news= too real. Follow me? 

Ok. Now that I have your attention. This is important, as this awoke me from my much needed slumber for work: too real. 

Stuck In Between 

Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in between an ordinary life and a life that’s not. I really don’t know if that’s what it is. Is it, “It is what it is”? Or can I control my destiny?  

I have limited life to three things. Too real, real, and not real enough. Too keep it “real” with myself, and maybe others. 

When I write certain things, I can stay on the line, in which I can be “too real”.  Or sometimes maybe all three. But I don’t wanna be all three at the same time, because then I will be considered all three. Then that goes into being crazy.  If I publish this right now, I will be considered just that. That would be be a great joke. 

Which goes into not “real enough”. And if I wanted to be real, I would/could make what I’m writing right now poetic. 

Then here I go being “too real” in saying that this website is free, I’m putting out work that I am writing, that’s not, all to prove a point that I have to work today, that I should probably be asleep, and when I go into deep thought, I emerge myself into “not real enough” focus on my job “real” therefore I make money “too real”. 

But is money real? That is what drives me to the conclusion of this story. Because what I have been watching on the news recently (I’m going backwards now cause I’m stressed) to make money today “real” , so I will go back to sleep “not real enough”. Or is it the other way? Now I am driving myself crazy. Trust me, I can be a bit too real. 

To Be Continued… 


The Living Story

These last couple of years have finally been been paying off. I’ve put out a positive vibe, even though I’ve endured some hardships, battling a bout with depression. 

My son has come back from Virginia. I’ve had to fall in with a career as an electrician. Which I’ve thought about pursuing a dream of learning the trade, and then using my knowledge to “electrify Africa”. 

I’ve gained a lot of happiness these last two months. I’m a little concerned with a mishap that occurred in June last year of which I don’t recall ever having. 

I’ve learned the real truth and not sure how to explain the truth. Being caught up seems to be the story of my life. I’ve done nothing but try to follow the rules. I’ve always kept myself from drinking and driving, which is amazing because I love to drink. I’ve toned that down a lot. 

This is a memoir. This is a Living Story. This is the truth. This story gets real sometimes. 

Many Times Later

I have been away from my writing for too long. Almost to the point I didn’t feel the need of writing anymore. Most of the time it was monetary. I stayed consistent and found a job I worked at with the story I wrote below. Many odd jobs in between.

I went through three cars (all of which broke down i.e The White Stallion) a camera, many liquor bottles, people literally shoving drugs in my face (To some, they say, “I don’t have a no in my body” To them I say… yes I do) and other various things that were stolen by people I was trying to help to turn their lives around.

All that didn’t matter to me, on which a particular night, after driving back home from getting thrown in jail by my ex once again. I looked back at a small car seat without a small boy in it… On that night I didn’t want to live anymore.

 A small part of me died on the inside…. Once again.

Many liquor bottles later, he came to see me. He did not want to leave me. I told him, “It will be good for you. Your mom promises that we will still see each other.”

Many Promises And Many Liquor Bottles Later….

Two years have passed and I have carried the burdens of others. Two years have passed without seeing him. I have put down the drink, and I have learned for myself that it doesn’t help, making myself a cliché. The one thing I thought I learned from the Winter Of 2008.

Many Blackouts Later….

I have finally seen some happiness. I have finally seen that, that thinking was wrong. I have finally envisioned the things I created (most on purpose) that I am still a part of his life.

Don’t tell me I am not trying. Still some try in me.

(By the way, I’m on my third year sober from any hard drugs having only  slipped up twice. April of 2014, and January of this year) 

Day In The Life: Construction Worker

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The days I spent at the new UT Southwestern hospital, was of no coinsidence, a location to a story I wrote a while back. The route from the trucking and distrubution industry of Dallas on Mockingbird Rd. through the medical district, to the infamous gun range. Of course I was soaking in all I could in the nine short months I was there.

Origanally, the “Day In The Life” is a program that was directed to the nurses, to train them into action, by a staged real life scenerio. Taking adantage of the time I could while real patients were not there. I wanted to film this and take pictures. I could only remain mysterious, for the jobs they were paying me for, still needed to get taken care of.

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The Building

The architecual design is laid out in modern use for the doctors and nurses. From the computer equipment, to the advanced air conditioning system, and to the very building itself.

One of the medical monitoring computers is roughly about $15,000 or more. They can allow the patient to move freely in and out of the room if desired, while being monitored wirelessly. They have a pluther of up to date machines for convenience of the patient.

The sohphisticated air system relies on basic airflow in which is filtered by numerous machines to put fourth clean air throughout the building. A very expensive process only with the equipment. The process is also designed to save energy.

The building is self sufficient. With it’s own power plant. Designed to supply its own water, and withstand a tornado. The structures purpose is to help the medical staff move more efficiently for it’s patients.

Construction Worker

Usually I’m multitasking in everything I do. This particular project had my dopamine running. Taking the job I knew I had some hard work ahead. The structure, some of the eletrical lines and windows were already established before I came. I have already done this for another building on Pearl Street in Dallas. I have worked with/on heavy equipment, leveling, concrete, heavy tools, blueprints, general labor, on commercial and residential projects. I like projects of any kind within my knowledge and more challenging. I’ll be very honest with you… I don’t like to sit around not getting paid. I work hard and that’s it.

When I first got to the building I felt like a rock star. A lot of  “daps” and high fives were giving. You know what? Pretty much the whole time was like that, but I still did the work and I took it seriously. Most guys there did.

Note to all lazy people: If you keep busy, time goes by faster.

The building is a beautiful work of art. I’m very proud and appreciate the oppurtunity to be a part of it. I would add much more to the story, for I don’t want to take away from what I was there to do. I wanted to shed light on the hard work construction workers do. Not only that, but I met some good guys I respected. The work speaks for itself.

Pictures tell a lot of the story. Here are a few.

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Each line to one room. Cut with concrete chipper. Without drywall.

 

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Yes, Kids Need Their Father Pt. II

IMG_0709It is a known fact that absentee fathers, in most cases, are prone to give their kids a life of poverty and hardships. In this busy world we live in providing and being present are two different perspectives.  Modern times have given us abundance of resources to educate parents, as well as little ones, for the most important reason: your kid’s progress.

First and foremost, I’m a proud father of one, Raiden Luke Frysinger. He is presently 9 years old, and in third grade.  He’s practiced karate, and the art of imagination.

My personal experience with this issue, is one that is almost impeccable to tell. From day 1, I was not ready, I did not have all of my life together. I was also dealing with a past mistake I consistently had to pay for, which will go without mentioning (for now). My son will.

Luckily I was able to obtain a good job, by my father, that helped clean up my life a bit.  I worked 12 hour days, 4 nights a week for a year and half, until I received a good pay advance. From then, I had beautiful days in spending time with  “mi numero uno”.

This is a real personal experience that I don’t share with too many people, but I will share, because it is important in my life’s progress. While at a friend’s house in the backyard for a barbecue, a beehive suddenly fell to the ground while my ex-wife was holding our son. Without a second thought , heroic like, I pulled them inside to protect him and her; fearing any allergic reaction scenarios. Trying to dispose of the beehive, and being in a panic, my son felt the tension and reached for me; to see if I was alright. One of two things happened. It might sound small, but I had a weird occurrence in what I call, an imprint, as they do exist. The other, was this exact situation that changed my life. I grew more proud. It is my opinion that any man is capable of this whether he is the biological father or not.

Providing doesn’t substitute the physical bond you have with your young, that has to start from day 1. This could potentially disrupt your child’s growth, depending on the particular child. To many parents it is very hurtful to have your kid resent you because you missed out on an important event, sometimes for no good reason.

This should, and already present a balance, maybe an epiphany, to be stern, to have more patience. This can also be compared to unconditional love.

Because we all know it’s hard to distinguish if they are using their emotions to feed you a guilt trip. This is already natural for your kid.

Just imagine for a second our soldiers that sacrifice their time away from home not being able to deal with this struggle. Imagine that one day he/she is going to grow up, having to learn some things on their own, when even the dreaded/celebrated day they move out of the house. Did their teachers/elders provide them with the tools they need to survive? Of course they did. Did their parents? Hopefully. For money doesn’t always suffice a stable living situation, or overcome an obstacle. If you are a parent, you should kinda understand this struggle.

Not everybody has had their father or mother in their life by tragedy, or unfortunately have chosen not to be a part or committed suicide. In some instances this might be an excuse to some that have learned to adapt. Where others have failed to yield in strength, many have overcome.

(For instance this story below when the tables are turned. Think about it. Money, a good life, turned in an instant, but the bond was broken and some sort of resentment took over. The father was not able to overcome. And if I was in his shoes, as tough as he was in Vietnam, was not able to deal with his son’s untimely death. I wouldn’t know what the purpose of life would be in that situation. I couldn’t imagine life without my son. I hope this story has an impact. I’m glad that I had the privilege of knowing these two.)

 

Go Team FincKe

Howard and James'  '68 Chevy

Howard and James’ ’68 Chevy

Their is a true story of a kid that grew up in Coppell, TX named James Fincke. In his teen years, he worked at a B.M.X shop repairing bicycle spokes at just 15 years old. Funny how he got all the local kids on a B.M.X trend around the town. His parents ran an auto interior shop, that mostly repaired Porsche seating, because their dealership did not have their own repair shop. In which the Fincke family took advantage of. He would always ride his Powerlite bike that had custom flamed pads he made with his parent’s interior products.

Years passed and time moved on. Kids gave up on their dreams of becoming professional B.M.X riders. James relied on the closest source of income, working back with his dad Howard, after a few failed career paths.

One night, on Christmas Day, he was driving with his girlfriend on the way to return a movie. His car stalled while pulling a u-turn, and ended up in the middle of the road. Not a few moments later his car was struck by an SUV at high-speed.

James’ insides had given up on him, but not before trying to pull his girlfriend out of the car that caught fire. Both did not survive.

The heartbreaking events were far too hard to bear for Howard. He went through complete devastation. His business started failing and their was no try, you could see it in his eyes.

Howard finally gave in to underlining health issues and was no doubt to a broken heart. Howard passed away, just 6 years later… Christmas Day, 2005. The world lost a good father, also a Vietnam Veteran, and the best son, also NON-Professional Greatest B.M.X Rider, ever. You are still missed.

Roxanne and James

Roxanne and James

Oh Yeah Fathers

Yes, kids need their father… for discipline, to protect, to look up to, to create with, teach and learn patience from. They need outlets that maybe one partner doesn’t perceive, or recognize. Kids need fatherly love, a father’s sense of humor. Young ones need a father’s story, rooted to their dad’s life experiences. They need their pride and confidence to say “That’s my dad.”  Oh Yes, Kids Need Their Fathers…and Fathers Need Their Kids.

Author’s note: This is to all the parents and kiddos dealing with divorce. Please don’t ever put the innocent ones in the middle. This teaches them resentment. Unconditional love is a beautiful thing.

The author is still  thankfully alive and sober in Irving, TX

The author is still thankfully alive and sober in Irving, TX. Without his sunshine.

Summer Sadness

Summer Sadness

 Dallas Days in and nights (life) out. The small building to the left is the 6th Floor Depositary Building

Dallas Days in and nights (life) out. The first small building in the center is the 6th Floor Depository Building.

In the beginning....

In the beginning….

 

A day without shoes for Tom's

A day without shoes for Tom’s

One of the sweetest I've ever met. RIP Johnny Pina

One of the sweetest guys I’ve ever known. RIP Johnny Pina

The building on the righ is Kidd Kraddick's studio

The building on the right is Kidd Kraddick’s studio (Radio personality). RIP Kidd Kraddick

New Kids on the Block whom I also saw back in '89

New Kids on the Block whom I also saw back in ’89

Goo Goo Dolls

Goo Goo Dolls

#dallasbig

#dallasbig

@t the Dallas Contemporary  Arts Exhibit for @Good

@t the Dallas Contemporary Arts Exhibit for @Good

Marching for the Dallas Pride Parade W/ @HRC

Marching for the Dallas Pride Parade W/ @HRC

Left: Debb Ship Right: Kari Logan

Left: Debb Ship Right: Kari Logan

#Flugtag 9/15/2013

#Flugtag 9/15/2013

If You Have Time To Read

In the times between the last post in March of this year,(i.e “A Place at The Table”) on through to October, my time was not wasted. I love to write. Now a days, in these “modern times” you have to do it all. Many part-time jobs, side jobs, or just flat-out helping people, has limited my blog. ( Yes, you still have to work)

The stride I had towards the end of the 2012 year was impeccable. I had an article I wrote on “Yes, Kids Need Their Father” down (just a few more edits). I try not get too personal. This would be in many ways a conflict for a reality project. I would like to disagree. It is my “memoirs”. Important memories.

The end of the 2012 year had a huge impact on me. The Sandy Hook Elementary shooting that took the lives of  20 precious children, is unspeakable. It effected me very much. It still does. It affected my writing, my creativity, that once again stirred up our stance on gun violence.

The Confusion

I have had many issues with the number 420. I ask why? It is a number for peace, at all costs, no money involved. The issue is the money, that creates huge problems. (Just look at what’s going on with the shutdown) Do not get the wrong idea, it is not the number of the beast (lol) and has several history points behind it. If you truly have peace in your heart then that’s what matters. If their is any issue with it , not on a peaceful level, I would remove it.  With that being said, allow me to present: Summer Sadness

V/H/S Movie

When a group of petty criminals is hired by a mysterious party to retrieve a rare piece of found footage from a rundown house in the middle of nowhere, they soon realize that the job isn’t going to be as easy as they thought. In the living room, a lifeless body holds court before a hub of old television sets, surrounded by stacks upon stacks of VHS tapes. As they search for the right one, they are treated to a seemingly endless number of horrifying videos, each stranger than the last.

via V/H/S.

Magnet Releasing  Magnet Releasing
@MagnetReleasing
Glad you’ve enjoyed the horror films we’ve released this year! “@Bfry420#Horror flicks #VHSmovie & #Rec3 top of the list @MagnetReleasing
12:59 PM – 11 Oct 12

History Repeats Itself

Lately their has been an aerial assault on mosquitos in the Dallas area. They have held several meetings on the issue.

Recently Denton County (Far Northwest Dallas) has granted spraying over its town. Dallas was the first to allow planes to do so. They did not waste any time.

   Statistics for Texas  CDC Analysis 

  • 733 Cases
  • 30 Deaths

   History (Real Talk)

Their is  a story I’m reminded of about my grandpa, Cornelius Depuy, who joined the Air Force out of New York, in search of a better life out of the poverty he endured there.

He had told me about the time his plane was shot down, and for the brief serious situation he encountered. Luckily, he was rescued before any of the enemy got to him and his crew.  His eyes showed no hesitation, and he did not know how much I appreciated him telling me this.

Upon his visit in the divide of Vietnam, the chemical they used was Agent Orange or herbicides in a mission called “Operation Ranch Hand” where their primary goal was to deprive the Viet Cong of vegetation.

My grandpa hardly smoked, and most would believe he had developed pulmonary fibrosis as a cause from the chemical they used to spray. I’m not sure what or if any involvement their was with it.  The military investigated it and determined their was not.

Final Thoughts

It is a shame to me that no one can be held responsible for the disease that ultimately took my grandpa’s life. I ask who will be responsible? If we might contract any harmful chemicals that we’re around at work, and by aerial spraying of mosquitos; if we indeed are sure that it causes, or adds up in our lifetime, the result of harmful human consumptions.  If History Repeats Itself, we’re surly doing something wrong.

Humanly Possible

 Lets Cut to The Chase, it’s hard to live out there. Let me tell you. I went on the D.L. (down low) once again to recollect myself. “Seclusion to find seclusion”, you might say. Upon my visit there, you really start to get in depth. My bravery has no limits, my fear is only peaked at the face of trouble, and my depth perception is the confidence that backs it up.

The enlightenment is the background and the platform in my life. It gives me all sorts of pride, not only for spontaneous ideas, but I feel the joy I didn’t once have.

For Humanitarian Day  I mostly thought about all the greats before my time, and one’s that are still with us today. To be one with human kind. I often thought about the label that still baffles me that you can grow some type of envy for it, or ridicule. Mostly on a type of religious basis.

*Note humanitarian – One promoting human welfare especially through philanthropy.

This got me thinking on the way I perceive myself among others.

I have actually made several peaceful protests in my day, several in California, and Dallas. I fight from the heart to sanctify life between right and wrong.

As I continue to follow the path, I take on the other adventures I pursue. As in a writing transcended to a form of activism. It takes it to whole different level. Perfection is something to strive on and being a “fundamentally functioning” person is not easy. I still make mistakes on what really is the truth out there. Not to mention I still make mistakes in general.

This is a constant battle. Expressing myself with integrity, but actually trying to stay humble. I don’t know if it’s God that makes me yearn for life or if it’s the earthly , no boundaries, that push me. As Humanly Possible, I try to be the best at what I can be, and try to do great things.