[Note: In light of the recent traffic, I thought I should explain the reason I limit comments to people with a registered WP account, which is that anything less than that level of restriction results in an annoying number of spam comments advertising and posting misleading links. If you’re reluctant to sign up for an account just to comment, but have input, utilize Twitter (link above), Facebook, or email to contact me with your thoughts. Thanks for reading everyone.]

I’m planning on writing an explanation/response to the post that engendered such attention, but it will take time to construct.

This still amazes me every time I look at it.

Blog Stats

(click to enlarge)

73 views yesterday, surpassing the previous record of 40 something dating back to the first month of my blog. This month has sent a new record for the number of views in a month, which was also the first month of my blog. All those months in the middle, especially the past six, are more a result of my negligence to this project of mine. Thank you to everyone of you that takes the time to read these.

Simply put, it’s time to rededicate myself to this journal, and with new ferocity. Let’s begin:

For those of you who don’t know me—and many of you who do and may not have noticed—there is one characteristic I appreciate more than almost any others, a description that can apply to people, music, writing, art, and life.


As defined in the Free Online Dictionary: 2. Genuine and authentic; not artificial or spurious; 4. Free of pretense, falsehood, or affectation.

The concept of realness is surrounded by a number of philosophical questions and assumptions, which I am not going to even attempt to dissect here. For me, realness is the combination of the above two definitions. Realness is the raw, naked, sometimes unattractive representation of an idea. Realness the under-side to an object, where all the dust collects. Realness is the unrestrained, genuine, vulnerable personality under the socially acceptable and expected masks we wear.

Realness is an all around unpleasant topic to discuss. Realness encompasses the topics I was taught to hide my eyes from and play the game of “you can’t see me.” Realness is where I feel most alive, the place with the most life to give—the place where I experience the most pain.

In my life, my relationships, my speech, my writing, I try to embody realness—realness which is often less than comfortable for others, and often including me.

We all, to differing extents, maintain some air of masquerade, lest the dark, hidden pieces of us be found in the daylight. However, I establish and maintain the best relationships with those stripped free of much of our social pretense; people who have no delusions of themselves and their strengths and weaknesses. I listen to music that describes, addresses the world we live in as it is, not as how we pretend it to be. I write stories that usually end in bittersweet tragedy, because that’s the most natural course of life; not sunshine and rainbows, nor doom and gloom.

In my current search for understanding, faith, and love, I don’t have time for personal pretense. I know what I believe, what I don’t, and what I have yet to discover. I am chasing dreams miles from my reach, and anything but brutal honesty and raw effort will not suffice in reaching these goals.

I am the person I am, and I will be the person I will be tomorrow. Outside of that, there is nothing more than the constant struggle for to maximize the growth (or minimize the atrophy) I experience.

However, I am not condoning every inch of this idea of realness. Realness is neither all right or all wrong, but it is all alive and all true. Not capital T truth, but true in the reality of its existence among us. Life, really living, is finding the strength and wisdom to swim upstream against the flood of realness, grabbing the shards that promote growth and well-being of us, those around us, and the world beyond, all while avoiding the dark rocks that threaten to drown the unwary traveler.

Realness is the treacherous daily rock climb to a distant summit, trying to find the sure foothold, while avoiding those that will break away and drop us to the distant floor below. Unfortunately, I fear too many of us look up at that mountain and walk away in fear; fear of the climb, the vulnerability and the potentially unpleasant truths we will find along the way.

We can live outside of the realness, never wading into that dark, dangerous water, but then we will never experience the heartbeat of life, the universe and everyone and everything around us; moreover, we will never truly know ourselves. And that may suit some people just fine. To each their own, but I cannot stand in a land of fake smiles and meaningless gestures. I want to know life in its fullness. I have made and will make mistakes, but always learning along the way.

“I search for the realness, the real feeling of a subject, all the texture around it… I always want to see the third dimension of something… I want to come alive with the object.”  – Andrew Wyeth

“I’ve been dreaming of things yet to come
Living, learning, watching, burning,
Eyes on the sun.”

(There is one instance of explicit language, just as a forewarning.)

Lyrics (because the lyrics in the video description are inaccurate):

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