So I was sitting on my balcony looking at the barren hills rolling off into the horizon and I got to thinkin'. I had a few little epiphanies, but first the reason why I write seemingly pointless things on a spot where anyone can look and see. This is foremost a spot to keep memoirs of a sort. The reason it is public is because if I don't have something where people may read it, I will get lazy and just never write. Also, that is a picture of King David by Michelangelo. I choose it because in the bible David is always portrayed as someone that I really sympathize with. He writes poetry about God - how He is good, but also how He seems to leave us dangling. He is also known for being a man of God's own heart, and I've seen that to mean that he doesn't give up on God because God never gave up on him. And he was a worker. He talked a kingdom back from the brink. I love the look on his face too, like he is focusing on something far away that we will never see because we are focused on him - exactly how it should when one is looking at a king. He looks to the future, while we look to him for guidance. So I guess when I'm feeling however it is that I'm feeling now, that is the picture that I will use.

Right, about what I was thinking. As some of you know, Paul and Josh for sure, maybe others, but my biggest fear is being helpless. I just can't stand it. Growing up in the almost hostile environment that I did, I have kinda learned to depend on myself mostly. I am here today 95% because of my own work, and my own time invested in jobs that I have hated and have offered me little reward – but I am here. I fear being helpless because that would mean that I would have to depend on others for my well being, and that might be too much for me. I would rather take care of myself or die trying than have others go out of their way to do it for me. I am open to others’ assistance, but not their charity. My father used to tell us to shoot him if we ever had to change his diapers. My grandfather, who is 90 years old, hobbled up a ladder and crawled onto his roof to help my father and I paint it because he would rather have assistance than charity. That is my legacy. The Basque are notoriously stubborn, and whatever the lineage from my father, he is stubborn as all hell too.

There has a been a dream that has haunted me for most of my life. I had it when I was in 5th or 6th grade. I was in an expansive forest with tall, thin trees that climbed to forty feet before the tops exploded out with long, bony branches covered with yellowish, opaque leaves. The ground was sparsely covered with these crunchy leaves, and spread out flat in all directions except for a sheer cliff off in one direction. I remember my little brother, Tony, hanging off the edge screaming for my help, and my mom about to be killed by two unidentifiable men. I remember being poised between the two situations while my spirit screamed inside me, “One of them will die no matter what you do!” I started running through the forest to one of them, I don't know which, but then I ran between two trees that were too close together and they tore my arms off. As soon as that happened, I changed into my mom. I remember seeing myself as my mom stumbling with insanity through the forest because now I am helpless to save my mother who is about to die, and also my baby brother who is about to drop off the edge of the cliff. I have always hated thinking about that dream.
There is also one more dream that has changed forms, but is still the same representation.
I am alone in a boat floating down the river Styxx, and I have no arms to paddle with. If I can't paddle then I am doomed to float straight into the underworld, where I don't want to be. So I just lay down in the boat and start quivering with frustration and fear because I am helpless to prevent what I know is coming soon.
The second version is exactly the same as the first, except I am trapped in a boat adrift in the middle on the ocean. Again, I just lie down in the boat and quiver with frustration and fear. I can do absolutely nothing to stop what will happen to me.
Now that I am older, the feeling has manifested itself in a few ways. I think that all this bitterness I have trapped inside me comes from watching others have motors trapped to their boats while I have to paddle mine. Also, I fear being alone in my house eating food and then start choking and die. Wouldn't that be some bullshit if I died that way?

I think the epiphany was realizing where those dreams came from, and that helped me to understand a lot of the bitterness in my life. I don't think I where my bitterness like a sour face anymore. I'm pretty sure that my countenance has improved outwardly towards people, but the fact remains thatin the deeper recesses of me, these things still exist.
The closer I get to God, and the fuller my experience with Him, the more I begin to excavate these catacombs and find out things about myself. It's just like a King setting up a new Kingdom for himself, he has to go throughout the land and find all the spies and deal with all the damage that was left over from the previous king. That's what has been happening in my life for the past two years. It's hard, but it feels good to know a lot of thses nuances of my inner personality. It helps me to know how to deal with myself more.

Now I am going to pee and then shower and then go hiking.