I’m going through a new phase in my life, Trying to step out the box of orthodox and write about things differently. I’ve read experimenting with my writing will sharpen my skills, or lack there of. The thread also said to write for thirty minutes and write action packed sentences. My first thought was, well that’s easy, I have an action packed life, but then i realised i most certainly do not have an action packed life. My life is so boring i actually create my own problems. The most exciting thing i have to offer in this writing today is my knee feels like it’s about to explode. Exciting*
I’ve known as a kid i was a adrenaline junky. I was always doing stupid shit. Jumping off roofs into above ground swimming pools, stealing farm equipment to joy ride, jumping off bridges, drinking too much… I was just your normal everyday kid. NOT. I sure thought i was though. There was this one time when i was 9 years old and I had these older friends that clearly were NOT a bad influence on me. Anyhow, we broke into this abandoned house and took our frustration out on it. Well, they did. ME being the genius i am, i just spray painted a super heroes name on the wall.I always believed in great people and looked up to them, and, i was always looking for something to believe in.
Months later, at 0200, i was in the living room playing this bad ass game called Worms Armageddon on my step dads PlayStation. I look out the window and see 4 cops. What in the hell, right? I don’t even think ive ever saw a cop before this in rel life. So, i go to wake up my mother by telling her cops are at the door. As and fantastic parent would do my Mother approached the situation and before you know it i was in custody. The officers were extremely nice, they didn’t even put me in handcuffs. I mean, why would they? I was 9 years old and i obviously denied everything. As fate would have it though, the proof i had been in the house was inevitable seeing how the name “Tommie Hurst” was blasted all over the abandoned houses’ living room wall.
Did you catch that? Not only was i arrested for a felony at 9 years old, but i also had the mental capability to realize im my own personal hero. The truth is, no one has you like you. You and your own personal Jesus have your back until the end of time. Realizing this, in my mid twenties, i started to make better decisions. It’s a fight every day. Some of you may have no idea what its like, to have all this bravado in your veins. I wake up everyday and have to choose to be good. It doesn’t come natural. Theres a monster in me man, but I keep it on a tight leash. Theres something inside of me that is full of passion, excitement. It’s a burning desire to DO something. Anything. I just want to do it, no matter what it is. So, i have to channel it, i have to pour out that emotion, that furious ball of eagerness, into positive things. I focus my anxiety on good. IT was hard at first, to be an action sports adrenaline junky, and focus that rush on little things, like writing a blog or reading a book. But, i do it. I exert my mind rather than my body. I exert my fingertips on a keyboard rather than my fist on a wall, my body on hers, or my hands on a bottle. But, i do it everyday. Every day I win this battle. All for one simple reason, i believe in myself. I believed in myself before anyone else ever did.
The Wheelhouse Window
There’s a Southerly’ wind’a’blowin according to the electronics on my dash, but I can tell just by the white caps on the waves that I obliterate with my fore-peak. I guess I never really needed instruction as to what the weather is gonna be like, I feel it in my bones. I know when that red sun rises on a Texas sky that the weather is going to be a challenge. Knowing I have a sail scheduled for Port Fouchon, I get my 155 foot supply vessel ready for our last 14 day journey before crew change. My fore-peak that holds a ballast tanks is completely topped off with potable ballast water. This ballast tank, as well as the remainder of the ballast tanks along the outskirts of my vessel are full of water. This water in the ballast tanks gives us the weight we need to crashing through these white-capped waves as easy as riding a bike… Except the bikes in hell, you are in hell, and everything is hell, basically.
I spend a lot of time out here on the water, and the truth is its easy to see things differently out here, hold on, my Yetti just slid off the dash. Shit, there goes my coffee, I guess I better get that; anyhow I see things differently out here. I see my friends go through so many problems that sometimes seem so self-made. “I just want to be happy”, “I don’t know what to do about my house”, “I’m married but I like another guy”, “My job sucks” or my recent discovery from a friend-“I’m gay and am afraid of coming out”. HAHA. DUDE I KNOW! “Why didn’t you just tell me!?” he shouted. My response is the same to him as it will be everyone, “You mean you want me to tell you what YOUR sexual preference is?” Dude, I cannot even deal with you right now. The solution to our self made problems seem so simple from out here, away from the normal world you more than likely reside in. What makes you happy? Dick? Masculinity? Copious amounts of body hair and crude humor? Ha ha, go for it, buddy. Its not my place to judge you for being gay. I honestly care less and you’re still going to be one of my best friends, I am warning you now though, if that fairy comes between me and you, ill lay him the hell out. I mean its no contest seeing how hes a fairy and all. I mean, can gay guys fight? Do they have some kind of magical gay rainbow dust that gives them America Ninja Warrior fighting skills and cat-like reflexes? Do they have some magical unicorn horn they’ll pull out of the spandex panties that they wield out in a frantic fury? No. They don’t. I mean, it’d be pretty bad-ass if they did. It all sounds pretty cool actually, and now, I kinda want one for myself. A magical fairy dust blowin’, unicorn horn wielding, gay boy as a side kick. I bet a man can pull ungodly amounts of ass at a bar with a cute side kick man-boy. This is all getting too exciting, maybe ill covert to the gay tribe myself. I mean it all sounds fantastic while writing this but lesbihonest, I love a big booty hoe’s, and by “hoe’s” I mean a God fearing woman whom brings out the purest Man in me. Speaking of, I have nothing but respect for the entire LGBT, LGTB, LG”STFU” whatever it is, do what you do. In all honesty, whose place is it to judge you? Are you afraid of loosing yourself by your choices? Don’t be. You are you no matter what. You make your choices and you learn to live with them. Either way, you’ll only be a coward by hiding who you truly are, so, be you. Sell your house, move to Kentucky, and marry a Fairy. Also, if I might add, you can even add a tiny midget parade and have your best men and women dress in leather chaps and what knot. Throw in some little dick cakes, and I am willing to bet you have some crazy ass Aunt who will cover one of them in brown icing just to make it her version of funny. Before you know it you’ll have a wedding more majestic than a waterfall of unicorn vaginas. Then again, this is just my views from the Wheelhouse Window.
I freaking HATE when I get off topic like that. Do you see how life can be out here? I told you being a mariner is like riding a bike, except you’re in hell, and apparently, this hell is full of magical gay demon-boys with unicorn antlers or some shit.