Hello Darkness my Old Friend

Silence, deep underground I write this post in a cinder blocked room so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Sitting here in isolation, I wonder what to write about. The creative battery that powers this engine is depleted, before it is completely empty, I may tell you about death. This may be painful for some readers so please take caution with reading this.

To start, I wish to die. I want death’s sweet and cold embrace to wrap it’s skeletal arms around me tightly and whispering in my ear, “It’s all over now.” My brain tells me to end it all, that death will be so much easier than dealing with the problems of life. Why do I desire this? Why can I not forgive myself for what I have done? How can I not move on from you? These questions rattle through the brain all hours of the day and they saturate my dreams.

The rub is that there is no attractive way to end my own life. I am scared of heights, so jumping would not be for me. I am woozy with blood so I can’t slit my wrists. I could never swallow pills as a kid, so there goes that idea. I also suck at tying knots so that really would leave my hanging on. No matter, I still yearn to die.

People always have the same reaction when you tell them that you want to die, “No, don’t do that” “Why would you say that?” “You have so much to live for!” Yeah but at the same time, is it not my own choice what happens to my life? I’ve been told I am just a melodramatic kid with too many emotions. There are those who see me as a liability, it would look bad on their institution if I ended it while there. The saddest thing is that there are plenty of people who would be glad to see me go. Or that is what they say until it actually happens and they get a box of tapes and go all 13 Reasons Why on their asses.

Can we take a minute to talk about that show? It is honestly one of the shittiest portrayals of anything. They only focus on what happened to Hannah, not mental illness like they try to say they are advocating for. They do portray suicide decently well. When I watched the last episode and Hannah described how she felt, I broke down and cried because I could relate to how she had been feeling, not because I felt bad for her. Clay saw a psychologist, nobody ever advises Hannah on seeing a professional! Nobody noticed her descent into what may as well be depression. I hate how they still try and victim blame her after Hannah’s death. Fuck this show, fuck the tapes, fuck the idea that you can get revenge on people who hurt you because you killed yourself. Your death only hurts people and this fucking show makes suicide look like the cool and popular way to get revenge on people who hurt you. SUICIDE SHOULD NEVER BE SHOWN AS AN OPTION.

Sorry for the outburst, this show just strikes a personal nerve with me

Don’t give up



Survive Damn it

If you had told me that the weather reflected people’s situations, I would truly believe that today, the world follows me. The rain cascades down all around me, drops race down the tall window panes I sit against, writing this. The wind howls, the storm is coming and I am struggling to find shelter, from the rain, and from this situation. Moving all of your life’s belongings into a mid 2000’s sedan in the rain, is not an ideal situation. What makes this worst… is that my jeans are wet. Levi Strauss was on to something when he helped marketed a durable denim dungarees. The problem is that these were made for miners and prospectors in California. If you do not remember, Cali is pretty damn famous for being an arid place. So I really wonder what old Levi would have done with his denim if he had made them for a place like Seattle! Long story short, it is 2017, waterproof jeans need to be made the norm!

Enough of my rambling I am being kicked out and for the first time in 21 years, I am without a home. To clarify this whole situation, I have a place I always called home, but terrified I am to return to my family and tell them of all the shit that surrounds me. The pain, the guilt, the sadness, the depression, and all the rest. So for the next few days I am gonna be bouncing from couch to couch, floor to campsite, until I am forced to cut my losses and finally return home. I am floating through this next week, orbiting the earth from hundreds of miles above the surface. Watching the world spin when there is no place for me to land. It is at the point where my satellite slows down its orbit, and it comes crashing back to Earth, engulfed in flames on reentry.

One of my friends recently got some ink of his favorite Hemingway quote, “First one must survive.” I need to be able to go on, counter every hit life throws out at you .Sometime this week the woods will be my home, I will make camp under a grove of trees and coming and going as I please. Robin Hood, Robinson Crusoe, Swiss Family Robinson, Hatchet, all stories I grew up on and admired. This week I get the chance to be my heroes, make my shelter under under a grove of leaves, make my own water potable, create my own fires, and poop in the woods. The problem is that I will need to carry plenty of my own water and food out into the wilderness and see what lies before me.

I need to learn the skills to survive on my own, to be able to live life on the land, hunt for what I need and use everything from what I take, to make the world my own store, and learn to make the world my oyster. We have everything we need here.

Stride on my friends, I will rise again


Forced Exile

I sit alone, late at night. Writing under cover of darkness. My blinds are drawn, my door is locked. Sitting here waiting for them to come. To force me out of my rightful home. I live in constant fear, my heart seizes up with every passing second. I have to avoid people, talking to certain friends. The feeling that you are being evicted from a place that you belong to. This is the second time this has happened to me this year.

When it happened the first time, it was out of the blue, hitting me like a sack of bricks in the face. I was forced out of a place that I had called home because of a liar. I may have made a mistake, but I do not deserved to be removed from my home. Now it is an oppressive regime kicking me out for no good reason. I have my rights to stay here and will honestly fight tooth and nail to stay in this new home of mine as long as I can. I hate moving, and packing, storing your entire life into a car and driving it to a new place. I honestly feel that I have no real home at times. The home that I grew up in is a place where I reside when I am not away at University. My dormitory is only a temporary place of refuge as I wait for the terror that waits at the end of the road. I need my safe haven to exist. In a few weeks I will be away in the woods, living in my own tiny room and happy for a few months.

This is my temporary home, I long for my real home and to make my real home with the lady I love.

Stay Strong for me


Cloak and Dagger, or Information Haggler

They say, “It’s not what you know, but WHO you know in life.” The people that see the world in black and white is just false in my opinion. Life is really about what you know about whoever you know. Knowing your enemy, knowing your friend, you just really want to know everything you can about the people around you. There are limitless benefits to knowing anything about anyone, knowing not to use certain phrases around someone, I once knew a girl who would physically wince when she heard the word “tickle” that was too much power over someone for me to handle.

My friends always remark, “Icarus! How do you know so much about these people?” The answer is quite simple, I listen. All you have to do is sit in a public place and pretend to be focused on something. Try it out sometime, go and pop a squat in a local cafe, library, park or anywhere people congregate, open up a laptop or book and just listen, the secrets you pick up, (Yes Mr. Harris, your wife is cheating on you) the stories that are told (Lindsay once ate 32 jellybeans on a date) and so much more. Make those mental links from person to person, put 1 and 1 together.

Now if you are antisocial or hate the sun, and still have a decent social network, go and search that. People’s social medias are a goldmine of information. Their fears, their cheers and everything under the sun. Every piece of information that this person decided was alright to share online is at your fingertips, from there you can jump to other’s pages and accounts and divulge more information out of them. It is a wonderful way to gather information in a short amount of time.

Now that will get you an ample crop of information, but when all else fails, and you need the juicy grapes of secrets, you have to harvest it straight from the vine. Now if you listen to people and show(or fake) genuine interest in them, they will begin to confide in you and share their secrets eventually. If you have to trade a story to get them to open up, then you go ahead. Information is the most useful tool you can have when dealing with people.

Secret agent mannnnnnnnnnnnnnn. Sorry it’s pretty late at night and I have no imagination for lyrics.

Go my agents! Seek out that info!

Sleuths ahoy!


The Importance of Being the Villain

We as people can be united by our loves, hundreds flock to a convention that features their favorite movie. Seconds go by and yet they are all there for a common cause. The opposite is also true in that we are united by what we collectively hate. How else can millions of people appear to protest something or someone they hate. Being a villain is one of the most unique opportunities someone can have.

I myself have recently become demonized to my former community. Now to be clear, I did make some mistakes, and apologized for said mistakes, at the same time a story has been going around getting twisted faster than 3rd graders playing the game “telephone” People that I once considered friends, won’t even look at me anymore, the one person who was finally opening up to me, now does not acknowledge my existence. Now if they had come to me and ask my side of the story, and THEN hated me, that would be fine. At least I was given a chance. Instead they act like I am less than human, and shun me like a leper. However when you become a villain you realize who your true friends are. Not those who drop you when the load gets heavy, but keep holding on.

The crazy thing though is how much more united that community is now that they have something they can all hate collectively. Now I am above revenge, even for liars who attack my reputation. I hope that group is doing well, they could all be great and the best of friends, and the best part. It was all because of me and that makes them sick.

The next time you have the chance to be a villain, don’t shy away from it, yet embrace your role, unite others! Tear them apart, just make sure that you end up on top.

Bad, Bad Leroy Brown, baddest man in the whole damn town, badder than ole King Kong, madder than a junkyard dog. I was bullied a lot as a kid, as a short dorky fat kid is usually, but from that I learned how to intimidate people, I would come off as unsuspecting and then snap.

Until next time, seize power!

Chasing Planes

I cannot really remember when I developed my love of flying, especially planes. Maybe it was my first flight back when I was 3 years old, could be because I loved riding Dumbo the flying elephant down at the Magic Kingdom. I guess what always appealed to me was being able to move and go wherever I want whenever I want. Guess for me I just want to be able to escape when the earth crumbles under my feet. I want to unfold my wings and propel myself through the air, riding the air currents like a hawk, diving and rising on the thermals soaring for miles the wind whipping by my head. Just seeing the world from 2000 feet. I could have this crazy complex where if I am above people physically then I am above them in society.

You will learn this the more you read and get to know me, that I have this fascination with man conquering nature. Man was created to be grounded, yet we still found a way to defy gravity and its laws. Two bicycle mechanics from Ohio took a dream and took off at Kitty Hawk. Charles Lindbergh decided to strap extra fuel tanks on the Spirit of St. Louis and flew clear across the Atlantic. This all culminated in humanity hitting Mach 33 and slipping out of Earth’s gravity and breaking into space.

So recently I’ve been in and out of a hospital (I guess I am kind of ok) but after there is a spot that a really great friend showed to me. It is right on a beach, the sun shines, the water is cool, the local food is cheap and does not make me too disgusted. The real reason I go though, is to watch planes, there is an airport less than a mile from this beach, so every couple of minutes a huge ass jumbo jet will descend about 100 feet above your head and it is so damn surreal. I will go and grab a frosty drink and sit on the sand just watching for one of those planes to come in. Wishing I could board one, and jet off to another country, leave all my problems and issues behind me in the possession of a TSA guard. Let us be real though, no airline will accept all my baggage. I guess as I was sitting there, I subconsciously hoped that a plane would dip too soon and come crashing into me. in an instant I would be gone. All the stress and problems of my life, instantly cleansed in the fire. Burnt anew like a phoenix out of the ashed. Thankfully my subconscious stays in my skull and does not have the ability to manipulate airline pilots yet……… yet.

I do have a lot of amazing things to live for, my family and friends and even myself and my clouded future, maybe I will get the love of my life to love me and be with me again. For me I get wrapped up and fixated on my problems that I am staring at a dying tree but missing the blooming forest of olive trees. Yes olives are a top 7 fruit. Maybe I am so used to running and hiding from my problems that I want to fly away from everything. Someday I will get used to being on the ground, but for now I shall walk with a spring in my step and continue to defy gravity one hop, skip and a jump at a time.

Well it is almost 4 AM here and I have a meeting in 7 hours so I probably should catch some shut eye. It feels good to just talk this all out. Guess I will write more later.

“I’m looking to the sky to save me, Looking for a sign of life, Looking for something help me burn out bright I’m looking for a complication, looking cause I’m tired of trying. Make my way back home as I learn to fly” The beauty and graceful transition that is Dave Grohl.

Soarin to Tower we are ready for takeoff,



Your Mission if you Choose to Accept it.

Hello and welcome to my own little corner of the internet. This is the first of many blog posts. I have no idea if this blog will ever take off, and at this point, it does not really matter. This is a space for me to pour all my emotions out onto a page. It may get messy, it may get dark, it may make you question yourself, and Hell it may even change your life. My blog is a place for stories, for questions, and for a jumbo of emotions. Listen, we are all people here, we are flawed by design. Therefore no judgement will be found here, except Judge Judy, she is OK in my book. I’ll usually end each post with thank you’s shout outs and some song lyrics that had been floating around in my head.

Enough about the logistics, you are obviously dying to know more about me. Who am I? I am nothing special in my own mind. I am a college kid living in the States. For now, I am writing in a dorm room that predates my parents era. My only company is the spider named Leon that lives in my closet. I am your average young adult who loves his family, his friends, strange food, beanies, memes and watching sunsets. Then there is my love life. I am currently single because of my own mistakes, but that post will come when I actually have an audience. I am in a complicated relationship with a God who shows me unconditional love and constantly grows me and shapes me to be a better person, at the same time, I have my doubts and insecurities. Chucking this out there now. Just because I am a follower of Christ, does not mean I am this magically happy and perfect person. Take your past negative experiences and what you have been told about Christians and please try and put them aside, thank you and have a nice day. Guess what? I am messed up. I fail to be perfect everyday. No matter how hard I try, I still fall short of the expectations I try and live up to. We are all flawed as people. So enough of that. I am not gonna force religion in your face, I will not refuse you medical care and education if you do not accept my religion. Back to me as a person, I am actually pretty messed up. Depression is a bitch to be honest. Anxiety is not a good time. Nuff said. I will explain my experiences later on. I live my life like a Bahamian island in August; hurricane season. I feel like I spend my life in the eye of a hurricane, as the Ham said himself “in the eye of a hurricane there is quiet, for just a moment.” I stand there in what seems like perfect peace, the air is calm and yet I spy it, over the horizon it lurks, the wall of storm whipping up all of my problems spinning faster and faster, lurking closer, crawling along the beach waiting to draw me in and strangle all the peace from my lungs. Now something you need to know about me, is that I daydream vividly. One of my recurring fantasies is that I am running naked through a minefield bumping into landmines and losing a bit of myself in the explosion as i stumble toward another charge.  I run into a problem and get haymakered in my emotional noggin and inadvertently stumble into another crap charge.

I am a night owl, a camper, a singer with 0 confidence in my own voice. I am a kid chasing planes that are out of my reach. I wish upon stars, I whistle while I work and above all, I truly believe that if I can dream it I can do it.

Do you have the time to listen to me whine about nothing and everything all at once? YO that opening riff in Basket Case will hook you in seconds.

This is me signing off for now. Share this with your friends, worry about me, donate a goat in my name, it is whatever.

On a personal note, if you know who I really am or find out, please do not make a big deal out of this.

Until next time, stay on your feet, keep fighting and don’t ever give up.



Isolation, I find myself alone often yet there is no better place to feel isolated than in the middle of Times Square. Surrounded by throngs of people, it is one of the few places where I truly feel alone. Sitting alone on this island, marooned in this land of my own creation. Ships pass by my waters and it would be so easy just to light a signal and draw them close, yet I do not. Mostly since I do not feel I deserve this rescue. I deserve to stay on this island and die of thirst

Shit I am too over dramatic, nobody actually reads this shitty blog anyways.


This blog post is coming at you from a little cottage by the sea. Last night I found some solid shelter with a trusted friend. There is something special about sleeping on a couch, just that feeling of fleeting necessity. You don’t belong there, people are going out of their way to shelter you. That is one of the ultimate shows of caring and friendship to me, that someone would trust you and care about you enough to shelter you in their own home. Damn I just appreciate it too much. Guests and fish both stink after three days, so after one night here, I think I’ll bounce to the next couch or hammock. That is the strange thing, for the first time in 21 years, I do not know where my next night will be spent, where my next meal will come from. Now this is a terrifying feeling for someone who has never experienced this. I have been hungry before, gone 3 days without eating but that is another story for another time. I am honestly running out of things to write about, I may do one more post on why I have wanted to die.


Stay strong,


All in All Just Another Brick in the Wall

Suffocation, my lungs seize up, and I forget to breathe everytime I see you. My heart skips a beat at the mention of your name. I stand before a wall I cannot scale and know you wait on the other side.  I built this wall, it is here because of my own two hands. All I desire to do is break through the brick and mortar, the lies and distrust I built between us and be reunited with you again. I’m not strong enough yet. My arms flail helplessly trying to reach you.

I’ve been distressed, flurries of advice encircle me, “Move on” “you can do better” “You don’t deserve her” The last one stings worst because it is true. I don’t deserve you, your kind heart, your loving ways, your beauty that I wish I could hold all my days. I’m in love. I’m a fool. I’m in despair, wanting to end it all because I can’t have you now and the guilt of my past. 

If I die, I have given up hope. That is not something I’m giving up yet, I’d rather die than give up hope. So for now, I need to start, small steps, as I dismantle the wall, brick by brick, and maybe one day, I’ll reach you on the other side. Until then, I can only pray that my love still holds those feelings true

I’ll be waiting outside your walls, for the gates to come down around me.

Rebirth now, I want to live for love, I wanna live for you and breathe for the first time now

Never, ever give up hope

Love, Icarus

Forced to be a Mime

I stand here before you dressed in black and white with dashes of crimson around my neck. Grease paint covers my face in stars reminiscent of Ace Freely and the rest of KISS. My hands press against these walls that I cannot see, arms strain against walls that are invisible to others. The walls of the box have enclosed around me and sealed me in.

Expressing yourself has always been difficult for me. I have never felt comfortable engaging in a debate. For me the terror of being wrong and publicly humiliated has always held me back from exposing my point of view to others. I guess my trust issues have held me back from being honest with others and myself. So here I sit, knees to my chest my head bowed in terror and isolation as I sit in a box of my own creation, screaming to break out, ready to crush these walls. Everyone tells me that I have this power to break out but they cannot hear me, they do not see it from my point of view, cotton to them is steel to me. I JUST WANT TO BREAK FREE. I WANT TO GET OUT OF MY CAGE.

Coming out of my cage and I’ve been doing just fine, gotta gotta be down because I want it all, it started out with a kiss how did it end up like this, it was only a kiss, it was only a kiss.

Break out of your own cage tonight