My Diary: I built this house on popsicle sticks

I often tell those around me to question everything. It's been a beneficial idea to my life for many years. If there is something you might not like, question it, then work to fix it. Sometime in the recent months I had stopped asking myself a question I used to think about constantly. How valuable are the relationships I'm building around me? In the process of forgetting this question, I began to make a handful of new relationships. Now I'm beginning to wonder if these are relationships I had ever wanted in the first place.

Around the age of eight I desperately wanted to be popular. I would act out and go far out of my way to get people to look in my direction, I wanted attention. This carried on through middle school with me being a type of class clown. I got along reasonably with everybody around me, but I still hadn't found the popularity I had desperately wanted. Upon reaching high school my behavior became a bit more cynical. I focused less on trying to become popular and I figured if the right friends would come my way I would show them they were worth my time. I still wanted to be popular, but to a much lesser degree. I stuck with the cynical ideals for a while and continued to work on building a small but wonderful group of friends. I wanted people around me willing to challenge and grow with me, I didn't like the idea of having casual "friends." I had convinced myself if they weren't trying to actively improve as people it'd be alright if we went our separate ways. After all, I felt my trajectory was only going upwards.

I had continued to carry this mindset for many years, with wanting to be popular remaining ever present in the back of my mind. Interestingly enough I've had a perfect opportunity to test this mindset within the past few months. I've found myself making many more "friends" than I ever could have imagined. I finally became popular after thirteen long years of trying. Upon discovering my popularity, I've found it to be rather empty. I've been getting swarmed around for all the wrong reasons. Because I've worked at pushing myself for all these years, these "friends" see me as someone to take from. They are under the impression being around me will lead them to a happier and easier lifestyle without putting in the work. It was lovely to think about at first, but the more I began to question it, the more I found myself uncomfortable with the whole idea. I decided to push back a little bit asking those friends to be there for me in a time of need and they were nowhere to be found. These relationships I had thought highly of were rather fragile. It hurt to discover how much I had been putting forth into these relationships and how little was being reciprocated.

I've found myself back at square one, realizing I had built this house on popsicle sticks. I have worked for years with the right people to create solid relationships. It's not my job and shouldn't be my job to force people towards growth for the sake of trying to have a better relationship with me. I'm happy to support their willingness to work towards something. However, I'd like to see people I'm trying to create a relationship with put themselves forth more. Again, it's not my job to mine marble with a toothpick. I don't need to dig into peoples lives and I don't need to put myself out there if they aren't willing to reciprocate. I'm undecided if I want to continue to have these "friends" around me, it makes me rather uncomfortable to know I can't be open or honest with them.

To be frank, I'm alright with having my tight knit group. I will continue to meticulously work at the friendships I have spent building over the years. These people I know who will treat me with the same respect and consideration I have for them. In the case of new faces, I'll treat everyone on an equal level and give a little bit of extra push when necessary. If they react well to the push, I'll be lucky enough to make a friend for life.

- Noble

My Diary: An apology to myself

It's been eight long days since there has been an entry to this blog. I'm more frustrated with myself than anything, but I'll need to let it go. For the lack of views, the lack of shares, and the lack of community, I love this blog. I know there is an incredibly small group of you keeping up with the work I do put out. I'm grateful to the few of you who keep up with my posts and I hope this goofy and wonderful place is helping you as much as I'd like it to. This blog is my brain. It's my thoughts, opinions, and emotions all spewed out onto the page. It's something I want to continue to dive deeper into. Although, I tend to lose track of the direction I want to take the blog, causing me to burn out. Disappearing wasn't due to laziness, rather it was overworking myself and needing to learn to love myself more. I needed to learn to apologize to myself.

With comedic timing, I happened to have terrible days one after the other as soon as I stopped working on my blog. It lead to an incredibly interesting and eventful week. For how painful it had truly been, it was a week worth embracing fully,. I'm looking forward to laughing about it in the future, but seeing as it was recent, the pain is still raw. Without being too transparent, I had received interesting news one day after the next. The days began to weigh on me more than I had been prepared for. Especially after attacking mental health for a week straight only two weeks prior. Everything was starting to scare me again and pushing me towards throwing my phone into a lake, for the sake of fully becoming a hermit.

I had felt this way until I started walking. I had walked to get the mail for the day, on a Sunday. I realized soon after mail wasn't delivered on Sundays and I had also checked the mailbox the day before. With nothing else to do I kept walking. I walked around my neighborhood until I ended up outside of it. I took a deep breath to check my own mental stability, after reassuring myself I was good I kept walking. I walked in my bare feet, twirling a mailbox key in my left hand and holding my phone in my right. My phone served as the ambiance in the background, playing the same sad song on repeat. With no shoes, sad music, and a head full of emotions I kept walking. I had told myself my toes needed to be in the sand and I walked until I could place them there. I did put my feet in the sand, even it was only for a moment before the tide rolled in. I absolutely made sure to put my feet in the sand.

I spent an hour or two at the beach. I continued to listen to the same song on repeat and for the first time in a while I allowed myself to think. I didn't worry about anyone else but myself, it was nice. I sat there until it became to dark to see the waves and then I walked home. When I arrived home, the sadness still lingered but everything didn't hurt as much. I made myself something to eat quickly and watched a few shows here and there. After, I stayed up late talking to a friend for hours on end. The day began to feel better because I pushed for my own happiness. When I woke up the next day with the pain still lingering, I made my way through a rather busy day. And I did make it through. Two days later the pain still lingers, it remains in my mind. I question whether or not I made the right decisions and I'm scared I hurt some feelings along the way. Maybe I made some mistakes, but maybe allowing myself to be a bit more selfish will prove invaluable.

I often find myself getting preachy on this blog as I struggle to follow my own advice from time to time. I tend to forget part of helping or supporting each of you is also taking care of myself. This is written as a reminder for the future. If you'd like, insert your own name instead of mine and this post could fit you as well. With my previous statement in mind, I'm sorry Noble. I haven't focused on taking care of you as much as I should have. I still continue to put everyone first even though I tend to be okay with the outcome. However, I've been stumbling more than usual these past few months and for the first time in a while I feel as if I'm stumbling forward. It's beautiful to know even while tripping and scraping my knees, progress is still being made. For the first time in a while I'm certain we are on the right track. Please bear with me for only a little longer, I swear it'll be worth it.

- Noble

My Diary: Writers Block

This post is going to be a classic Noble rant. I caught a case of writers block recently and I'm struggling to overcome it. I've been trying to put out as much content as I have been mentally able to, but the amount of work leads to exhaustion. I need to give myself more time to breathe and I don't know how well I can breathe while posting fourty-four times a month. I'm a one man show of editing, writing, and attempting to grow this brand.

For the sake of transparency I want you to know how difficult it is for me to not be able to post as much as possible. I feel the need to share this with you because this blog has always been a place of openness. I have stated it a million times before, I want to share in vulnerability with you. Which means you'll see my vulnerability as well. I want to write to you like I'd talk to my friends. I want this to be a warm place for people to come and learn. I treat this blog like a friendship with my viewers, making me afraid to slow down. I'm doing a good thing here, I feel it in my heart. I want to push through this block and be able to produce the best content I can for you. I want to go back to feeling inhuman and being able to write four posts a day. Hell, maybe I should have stacked up on those days where I felt inhuman because I'd have more to write to you today. Instead of having my hands flow freely like today, my posts have felt clammy and irritating recently. I'm not enjoying myself and I'm hurt by it.

I get too focused on numbers. Refreshing pages over and over again, forcing myself to close out of windows, and thinking non-stop about my next growth methods. It's wonderful how committed I am, but the opposing opinion tells me I'm going to fry my brain. Letting these numbers get to me forces me to comb over my posts again and again, searching for imperfections. I'll swear to myself they come out near perfect and then a week or two later I'll go back to an older post to see a glaring issue. It's a frustrating process. The correct approach to all of this would be to stop checking the damn numbers all the time. I should write because I love writing. If I'm putting my best foot forward the supporters will come regardless.

Again for the sake of transparency, I wanted to let you all know where I'm at currently. I want to grow this brand and share all of these insane ideas with the world. I want to give the support I felt I never had when I was younger. I don't want to force myself to write and lose what I have. At it's core the idea behind this blog is wonderful, it only becomes a struggle when I realize how much work needs to go into my passion. I need to remember to have fun what I'm doing and not drain my mental state completely for the sake of growth. I want to keep writing six days a week not because I have to, but because I'm onto something great here. I don't know how long this mental block will exist, but I hope you'll work with me and allow me to struggle for a bit. I want to come back to this wonderful place stronger than ever before.

- Noble

My Diary: Addiction controls me

In addition to my history, my addictive personality keeps me far from drugs and alcohol. I find myself addicted to incredibly unimportant things half the time. I'll get addicted to the point where I won't want to eat anymore. Getting caught up in the things I'm working on will cause me to push aside my own wellness for the sake of continuing to focus on whatever I view as my temporary priority. Whether its my work, hobbies, or the feeling of being wanted. This post is a confession to my addiction.

School, work, and writing this blog often leave me finding myself addicted. It's a blessing to be addicted to working on this blog or to force myself to have a good work ethic in general. I will reap the rewards of the time I've put in sooner rather than later. However, because I'm so addicted, I allow my addiction to consume my mind. For example with this blog, writing, self promotion, I consider those all to be mentally exhausting work. No matter how exhausted I've found myself, I'm afraid to slow down. For whatever hypothetical reason I've found, I don't want to slow down out of fear I'll miss my window. This fear will press me to work even harder, leaving me to spend hours in bed thinking up ideas. I'll push myself to not only understand topics better, but to understand myself better. All for the sake of  providing better content for my readers. It's exhausting, but the outcome is addictive. I'm addicted to dreaming about my hard work being rewarded. Which again isn't a terrible trait to have, but I do need to remember to eat once in a while.

I get addicted to my hobbies. I have this story I tell often about being fat. Near the beginning of the summer of eighth grade I was on the heavier side. Then over the summer I suddenly lost it all. Instead of the hard work necessary, I accidentally starved myself to lose the weight. You may be thinking to yourself how in the world it's possible to accidentally starve yourself. Well, I was addicted to video games to the point where I forgot to eat and it caused me to slim down. In addition, I was in the middle of my growth spurt. This ended with me going from being short and fat to tall and skinny in a matter of a few months. It may have been incidental and unhealthy, but hey I wasn't fat anymore. However, all these years later the addiction still consumes me. I often forget about responsibilities or forget about taking care of myself. I don't want to be the guy to disappear if my friends are having fun, so ill keep pushing along. This message and this paragraph itself is personal for gamers. Listen to me when I say, your friends can wait. Get up and exercise, get food, you'll feel better and you'll enjoy the experience a lot more.

I get addicted to the feeling of being wanted. If I were to break down the worst traits of what makes up Noble, this is probably in the top three. I have an absolutely terrible habit of latching onto people who offer me the slightest bit of respect and consideration. I latch onto those people because it's something I've always yearned for. It's a habit I've been trying to work through for years, because I consistently find myself beyond addicted. I often tend to sell myself and my own abilities short. Which means when somebody comes along with a few positive traits I'll be intrigued. Then they'll go as far to say sweet or considerate things about me. Things I already knew about my own character but needed to be affirmed by someone else. It leads me to meet a lot of the wrong people. People undeserving of my attention or affection. And during this arduous process I'll keep making similar mistakes and learning how to correct them, falling on my face all along the way. Though, after a while I'll learn to put my hands down when I fall.

- Noble

My Diary: I'm no hero

The title above is a contradictory thought to how I attempt to live my life. There are days when I can only see myself being a "hero," an idea echoing on my mind constantly. An idea telling me I need to take care of and protect people. I need to be a modern day savior, I need to be a hero. I want to be the one to take on everyone's pain. If I were a hero, I'd have some hilariously tragic super power like "empathy." My identity would be "The Empathizer" and the more I took on peoples pain the stronger I'd get. They'd let things out making them happier and it may hurt me, but because I knew they were happy it'd keep me going. Then reality often sets in, revealing my power is much weaker than I imagined, causing me to terribly crash and burn.

I have carried a hero complex for as long as I can remember. I wanted to escape the reality around me, causing me to throw myself into my wild imagination. I'm sure a handful of you became significantly more drawn into the post after reading those lines. Do you remember when you'd stare out the window in your grade school classrooms? These wild day dreams of monsters attacking the school would swarm your thoughts and you'd dive deeper into the dream, escaping whatever boring and irrelevant subject you were learning about. The unbeatable monster would finally attack and you'd reveal yourself to have been a super hero all along. Not only saving the day, but impressing your classmates in the process, of course getting your crushes feeling reciprocated along the way. These heroes we'd dreamed up were infallible. They were the epitome of strength, power, and kindness. This whole idea, which we repeated time and time again, was a form of recognition in its absolute. We'd receive the recognition of being regarded as a legend and people would attempt to carry on our legacy. Now all these years later, the cause for my actions and the reason for me living remains the same. I still want to be remembered and loved after my death, causing me to leave a lot more of myself out there than I should. I still want to be the hero I wanted to be when I'd stare out of the classroom window, waiting for my chance. This lifestyle punishes me by shoving the repercussions in my face more of than not. It's a lifestyle with incredibly high peaks and incredibly low dips in my emotional health.

As I got older, the idea of having super powers drifted away. I tried to become a modern day super hero. I wanted to "help" people, which led me to grasp at whatever straws I could. I wanted to test every available option, one worthy of the title hero. I thought about professions, I thought about the military on thirty different occasions, and I thought about pursuing psychology. However, the more I put myself out into the world and broke away from my shell of dreams the more I began to meet new people. I found myself happy to have people who liked talking to me or girls who liked me as a person, even if I knew in the back of my mind something felt more than off. Questionable friends and questionable girls began to control my life. The type of "friends" who thought it funny to embarrass and destroy your character behind your back. Those same people would then look you in the eyes and tell you how much they cared. I had the type of "relationships" with an incredible amount of emotional abuse. Threats of self harm, threats of destroying my life or the lives around them, and threats of destroying everything that we had built up together.

 I smiled and stayed, hiding my own pain. I consoled everyone, making sure to never let anyone know I was hurting, because my version of a hero couldn't hurt. I wanted to be the absolute. Through my own stubborn behavior I stayed in those relationships and stayed in those friendships. I carried one simple and repetitive thought in my mind. What if I could make their strain a little bit easier? If I took on their pain we could be better friends and my romantic relationships would find their stability and happiness like I had wanted all my life. I discovered along the way my dreams of becoming a super hero were more likely than these people respecting me. Taking on their pain only lead to it being viewed as a weakness, an exploitable one. The consideration and respect for me as an individual only worsened over time, until I was labeled as a certain person. Whether I was a push over, whipped, walked on, a pussy, a bitch, a bad friend, a bad boyfriend, pathetic, a faggot, a sorry excuse for a friend, or a flat out loser. I took it all on. I took on all the pain and anger because I thought it was correct.

This isn't a sob story as much as it is a confession. Everything I wrote about in the previous  paragraph is my wonderful curse. I both love and dislike my curse. I say wonderful and love because I truly believe it is wonderful. After being hurt time and time again I'm able to pick myself back up and keep struggling forward in search of the right people who won't abuse my kindness. In the process of moving forward through this struggle, I've found some absolutely amazing people. People I'm lucky to have in my life. However, my curse still remains as such because I use it on undeserving people. I continue to tell myself it's okay because it's my job to be a teacher and share a more full way of living. It's the wonderful curse I have willingly placed on myself. Even if my consideration is abused time and time again, I'll keep shifting and steadying the line towards where my peace lies. My resting point will be somewhere I can finally be regarded as a hero.

I'd like to close by saying, I've always wanted to "save" people. This is a trait I will willingly place on my shoulders for as long as I continue to breathe. With the possibility of major emotional damage, I'll continue this lifestyle as long as I'm able. The truth is, I keep burying myself in these situations for a reason. I'll keep taking on these hurtful people, this pressure, pain, and anger. I'll take it on because I'm waiting for someone to save me. To tell me I've done a good job, to take my hand and tell me to rest for a little bit. Because as badly as I want to be a hero, all heroes die alone.

My Diary: Letter to seventeen year old Noble

This specific post goes out to my younger audience, as I'd really like developing young men and women to read it. These are some lessons and statements I wish I could have had access to when I was younger.

Everyday will feel more lonely than the next. There are so many of you who are fully ready to commit to this post, based on the first sentence of this paragraph. To know viewers will become more invested based on the first sentence makes me incredibly emotional. I know more often than not you feel lonely, I know how much you have to offer, and I can assume exactly how badly you want people to give you a chance. Whether it's your crush, a chance to make new friends, or for your family to attempt to understand you a little bit better. It's such a strangely uncomfortable feeling to feel alone with hundreds of new and happy faces around you. However, some of you are good at hiding it. I was one of those people who knew how to hide it. And I often feel lonely more than four years later, even if I have the most wonderful friends a guy could ask for. Loneliness might not leave you for many years to come. However, it will slowly dissipate the more you understand to love yourself and those around you. I can promise you that. 

It hurts to get out of bed. Not in the physical aspect, physical pain has never been as much stress as the emotional strain you carry with you. I hurts more than you are able to put into words sometimes. While you are hurting, your friends are having what looks to be a terrific time around you. You'd love to join them, but don't quite know how to start. They are off competing in sports, talking to their crushes, and going to parties. Even if you'd like to be a part of those experiences, maybe it isn't for you.  Maybe you are like me when I was young. You like to sit inside and play with Legos, make funny YouTube videos, or play video games until the crack of dawn to distract yourself. Every now and then you might tell yourself to go out with your friends, because it'll be a good change of pace. And maybe after you go out, you'll miss being home sooner rather than later. It's okay to not want to go out all the time and to allow yourself to hurt. Fuck,  I wish someone had told me the same thing. I'm sorry you are feeling so terribly. Please allow yourself to hurt and ask for help if you need it. Take a few steps towards sharing your feelings. Hell if you want to message me, all my links are there. You know exactly where to find me. 

Do these fears ever leave me? The short answer is maybe. It depends on your willingness to move forward. You can't live among your fears allowing them to control you. Your loneliness and pain will keep your fears heavily over your head and heavily in your heart. It's annoying and infuriating to let this unseen force hold so much power over you. If I could only share one thing sentence on fear for the rest of my life, it'd be this. Your fears will lose power, you'll learn to accept and let things go, and you will absolutely fucking not be controlled and held down by your fears. And its something I wish someone would have shared with me when I was seventeen. I was stubborn and I don't know if I would have accepted their advice, but I wish someone would have tried. If somebody could have sat me down and looked me in the eyes to share this information, I'd be eternally grateful. 

This last paragraph is more of a message than anything. I already over work myself as is, it's a terrible habit. One which I'm unsure I'll ever allow myself to fix. But allow me to reiterate what I had said above, I can be here to talk with you. Id like to help you understand grow as individuals. I desperately want to be a beacon of hope and understanding. One which I struggled to find when I was younger.  Please don't be afraid to reach out, it's all love. 

- Noble 

My Diary: I miss the beach

This post idea closely relates to my favorite poem of all time, "Charles Hanson Towne - Around the Corner." Humans get caught up in every little thing not worth our time. In the process of letting the days roll by, we forget about everything . It's fucking terrifying to think about how often we let things slip by, because we are too scared to take the leap. Humans are deathly afraid of taking the leap. We have to let go of the fear and run openly with our vulnerability, wearing it loudly and proudly. Fear is poison, it's evil, it's a controller preventing us from unlocking our true potential. Allow me to tell you how much I miss the beach.

I live a little over a mile away from the beach, no more than a ten minute walk. I have a stunning view from my backyard, absolutely breath taking. Almost every day I catch myself thinking about how lucky I am to be able to experience such a view. On some nights the stars sit perfectly above the water, my absolutely favorite image in the world. It'll be burned into my mind for years to come, something I'll tell my kids about. However, when I go too far inland I can't see the water, it makes me anxious. And sometimes when I look out at the beautiful view before me it makes me cry. I don't visit the beach enough. I miss the beach.

Let me reiterate, I live withing a ten minute walk of one of my favorite things in the world. But because it's right there, I only ever watch. Why would I take time out of my busy schedule to go visit something I see every day? It's nothing short of ludicrous to have such a thought. I see it every single day, it's fine if complacency sets in. The next time the weather is nice, I swear to myself I'll go. Even if the weather isn't nice, I'll go next week anyway. I'll wonder what the sand will feel like between my toes now, but it''ll still be there tomorrow. What's the rush? I swore to myself I'd do it and I'd never lie to myself.

All of the sudden you are old. Life has caught up and your body hurts. You spend your days wondering if the beach was ever really fun anyways. In all your years, you've seen it thousands of times. Plus you've visited lakes, rivers, and even ponds. They were all beautiful in there own regard, but for some reason the beach still sits in the back of your mind. You'd still like to know what the sand feels like between your toes. After all these years you decide its finally time to walk to the beach. It's only a mile and a half after all. The walk now takes triple what it did when you were younger and exhaustion starts to set in. You stumble a handful of times along the way, but it'll be worth it as soon as you get to feel the sand between your toes. When the beach finally comes into sight an overwhelming since or beauty and pride reach your heart. And then you collapse. Your body couldn't take the strain of life anymore, leaving you to miss out on your last possible chance to visit the beach. You'll always have to wonder what the sand felt like.

Then you wake up. Your old age was only a stress dream, but this time instead of pushing it aside, you'll leave your schedule open and make the walk. The walk is a bit tiring, but nothing you hadn't expected. After the ten minutes you arrive at the beach, finally able to place your feet in the sand. The sand is hot, contrasting well with the cool water. Fuck is the only world that escapes your lips. You start laughing followed by tears rolling down your cheeks. It feels better than you could have ever  imagined. And you finally get to feel it after all this time, because you got up, took the chance, and made the walk.

I think I'm going to walk to the beach.

- Noble