I’m grateful for the familiarity habits and routines bring to my life, especially after some tough times. When the world seems to be against you and all you want is an ounce of normality, habits and routines are there to provide that. I really really love that. Work has been hard the past few days, where I’ve come home angry and frustrated. Working out has helped me out a lot, and once I do and I shower and eat and watch some TV, I feel better and I forget about all of my troubles. I couldn’t sleep last night because I had a million thoughts running through my mind, so I’m lying in bed right now ready to fall asleep. I’m tired, especially since I have two more days of my hybrid workout before I’m done with it.

Music helps, too. There’s nothing like a good and familiar album to invade your ears and fill your world with glee. I’m falling back to these simple pleasures to keep me centered and focused on what matters. Life is too short for bullshit, but bullshit sometimes get stuck under your shoe and you only know about it once you drag it all over your living room floor. It’s one of those things I know I need to handle better, and that’s not something I’m going to master quickly. It might take me my whole life; I might never master it.

Sometimes I feel like I’m destined to lead a tragically funny life, but then other times I feel like I’m destined to lead an epic one. I’m a slave to the whims of my emotions. If I could map out my emotional states for every day in a month, that graph will look like a seismograph during an earthquake. I will feel totally different than I do now tomorrow, and that unpredictability amuses me. I want to not know because I make most of my mistakes when I force things instead of letting them happen naturally.

One thing I don’t like about myself is how my mind projects what I think other people think about me — which is mostly negatively — and how that thought affects how I feel about myself. I’ve never been able to know how to shake that off. I always tell myself to let myself feel everything I’m feeling in the moment, just to get it all out of my system, but that’s apparently easier said than done. I’ve tried to do that sometimes, and I definitely didn’t like how I felt or the thoughts I had, but I think it helped. It’s cathartic, in a way, and I’m better for it afterwards. It’s like crying, if I could cry.

This blog has been an incredible document of my journey and growth as a human being, and there are times when I don’t want to update it or wish I never started it, but I’m always going to be grateful for it. It has helped me see my life in a new way, and I’m better for it.

I think the greatest test for me has been owning up to my mistakes honestly and courageously. I’ve learned that mistakes are simply a part of life; life is too short to let mistakes affect me in a negative way. Of course I need to learn from my mistakes, and that’s why I’ve grown to really cherish (in a way) my mistakes. The more I can learn about myself and from myself and grow into a stronger and more honest person, the more happy I am with myself and the way I choose to live my life.

I’ve been off my game lately, I think. I’ve been here before. I’ve been productive for months and months at a time until one day I crash and I’m no longer productive. This has happened before, and I thought I’ve learned from them. It’s become this cycle that has repeated a few times, and I’m in that cycle now. I’ve been on an almost eight month streak of productivity and adventure and maturity and growth, and that’s awesome, but I’ve been having to fight for every inch of that for the past few weeks. I can feel myself slipping away from this life and into a more casual and lazy life. I don’t want that. It might do me good sometimes, but not all the times.

I can recognize some of the patterns to these past mistakes of mine, and for some reason, I can’t always course correct. It’s like I’m stuck in the tornado I saw forming and rushing my way. I just stood there and let it engulf me. Why do we do this? Why do we let this shit happen to us? I don’t know. All I know is that I have to be better about this. I have to learn when to course correct and be better. I have goals, and I want to accomplish them, and deviating from that path — even a little bit — should be and is unacceptable.

I have to be hard on myself because I still make these stupid mistakes. The only way I know how not to make them is by being hard on myself. I made a stupid mistake before I first started this blog, and I was hard on myself because I thought I deserved it and because I knew that was the only way for me to stay on that path I knew I had to be on. Some people might disagree with this, but I’ve lived most of my life alone. All I truly have is myself since the shit I struggle with the most I’ve had to handle on my own. So I’m very comfortable with myself and being in my own skin, and it’s tough for me to depend on anyone other than myself because of this. I surely have blame for this, but it is what it is, and I’m okay with that.

Internally I’m fine; externally: it’s other people that have the power to disrupt my flow, and that’s something I don’t like. Maybe that explains me in a nutshell. I don’t know.

The easiest thing to write about is what I’m feeling right now, and right now I’m feeling tired. It feels so good just lying in bed right now. My muscles are healing from the brutal Insanity workout I did today, and since work was extra tiring today, I’m really tempted to just rush through this entry and heal. But since I keep preaching about how nothing hard is not worth doing, I must march on.

I taught my first real drama lesson today. It was only a few minutes, maybe ten minutes, and the kids didn’t seem at all interested in what I was talking about, but I liked it. I definitely need to practice and get better at this, but I liked it nonetheless. It’s been awhile since I’ve personally dissected a move scene, but it was fun involving the class in it. I talked about the director and what he brings to the scene, the editor and what he brings to the scene, and the actors and what they brought to the scene, and I prefaced all of that with what a story is and how important conflict is. It looks like next week I start my focus class, and if I do, that’s where I’ll be delving even deeper into this subject. It’s fun, and I’m having fun.

It’s a bit past 8 PM right now, and the sun is shining brightly outside. I love Montana during spring and summer. The days can get so long, and there’s something about the sunshine — especially when I took it for granted in California and after these dreadfully long winters without it — that makes me happy. I signed up (finally) for firefighting this summer, I met my good friend Matt there, and we caught up briefly. He’s not firefighting this summer, which was horrible news to me, but I know I’ll see him around.

I love fire season. I love all the friends I’ve made and the whole environment, where I hang out with other firefighters and we live together on the mountain, and we fight the fires together. There’s a camaraderie there that I really love and miss, and I can’t wait to get back there. I need to take my physical exam on Tuesday, then my pack test and refresher course someday after that and I’ll be set for this season. I can’t wait to get all of this done.

Did I mention how tired I am right now? I did? Okay. I won’t mention it again.

I don’t know exactly how I’ll feel about this entry in the future, but I have to admit (if you haven’t noticed already) that my lethargy has caused me to produce a subpar entry. Like I said in the beginning, I’ve only written about what’s on the surface of my mind because it’s easy to do so. Sometimes I have days like today, where I’m more tired than anything, and where pushing myself might not be the best thing. I think I need to learn how to take it easy. Either way, here’s to 233 days!

I watched the Social Network on Saturday, watched the first scene a few times yesterday, watched the last of my Drama students perform the scene in class today, and finally showed the scene to the class. We ran out of time before I had a chance to really talk about it, which I’m still really sad about, but the point of all this is that I’m having fun thinking about what I want to talk about. It’s surfacing many many memories from college, which have made me super nostalgic, but also grateful that I was able to get the best film school education at the best film school in the world.

I love stories. I love reading stories and watching them on a screen. I love telling stories, and I love writing them. Writing is my craft, and I love it so very much. I’ve transcribed the Great Gatsby, and I’m more than half way through transcribing A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway. I write in the morning, I write after my workout, I write after dinner, and I write some more right after that. I’m so very passionate about this stuff, about this craft, that I really don’t want to do anything else. I don’t care about being a Renaissance man, even though I did for a long time (maybe I still do a little bit). I’m a writer. That’s who I am, and I love it.

One thing I’ve noticed is that I get pretty sad on Sundays, and I get sad on Sundays because I don’t work out on Sundays. I just performed a very very tough Insanity workout, and even though I was close to vomiting during it, I feel fucking amazing right now as I’m recovering and lying in bed. Those pesky endorphins — I need them. I need them so much to be happy it’s insane (see what I did there?). I feel so much better after a good workout, and my writing is so much happier after a good workout that I’m considering doing something on Sundays — something physical — just to see what kind of mood I’m in when it’s time to write. It’s an experiment that I think will bear fruit if I actually do something and not lie in bed all day wondering where my day went.

This is my last week of this hybrid workout. I can’t believe I actually made it. I guess I really didn’t have any doubt I would, per se, but it’s always great to realize when you’ve accomplished one of your goals. Next week I’m going to restart the Max: 30 workout from Insanity, which should be fun and much much shorter than these hybrid workouts were. Did I mention how much I enjoy taking my shirt off? I’m like: who is that sexy man? Oh, that’s me. That’s fucking me. I’m this writer who’s almost done with his second novel and almost done transcribing his second great novel and who has done over 200 days of Insanity and is voluntarily going to do another 60, and he has this blog where he’s been updating for 232 consecutive days. You best believe, bitches.

The world is moving quickly outside while I’m slowing down, while my feet aren’t moving as fast as I would like them to. I’d rather spend time watching TV or browsing Instagram or Twitter or Facebook instead of reading or writing. Part of me feels like I deserve some time off. I have been going strong for two-hundred and thirty-one days straight after all. At least, that’s what I tell myself. On the other hand, every task on my todo list is a promise I made to myself, and I’ve been breaking my promises recently. I’m not as diligent as I used to be. I don’t know when it happened or how it started, but it’s one of those things I didn’t even know was happening until after it happened.

I’m finding excuses to not do something. I don’t do that — that’s not something I do. But I’ve been doing it, and I don’t like it but it’s not going to change overnight. I have to start over. I have to rebuild that habit or replenish my willpower enough to get working. Part of me doesn’t want to, and that urge is stronger than all my other urges. I want to play and have fun and relax. I’m almost done with a few things, and I’m about to start other things.

I finish the Insanity the Asylum: Volume 1/Volume 2 hybrid workout this week. That means I’ve practically done an Insanity workout every day for over two-hundred days. I’m going to add another sixty when I do the Insanity Max: 30 workout again. I added extra ab workouts the first time I did, and this time I’m not going to do that. That means these workouts will only take thirty minutes out of my day, and that’s a huge relief. It’ll give me more time to do other things. I don’t know what I’ll do, though.

I’m so close to finishing my book, and I decided, 84,000 words later, that I’m going to cut one of my main characters (again). This story had three main characters, and I switched POV with each chapter, and now I think I’m going to stick with two. This story turned into a very personal and emotional story, and I really want to explore that more than what this story was originally supposed to do, which was talk about politics. No more of that. So I can really say I’ve written two different novels, and I’m very close to rewriting the second one.

So I’m working out and writing. I’m just not reading as much as I would like to. I love reading, but maybe it’s the books I’m reading or what I want to do with those books that is holding me back from really getting into it. Maybe that’s it: I want to do too much. Maybe I need to slow down and relax. Is that defeatist? Will I regret this later? I don’t know.

If it’s not hard, it’s not worth doing, right? I want to push myself harder than I’ve ever pushed myself. That much is obvious. But maybe I should listen to what I’m doing. I’m slowing down, watching TV, neglecting (some of) my tasks… maybe that’s all a sign that I need to relax. Maybe. As long as I’m writing and working out and living. I am, so lets try to relax, yeah?

I’ve discovered that the weekends are the worst time for me to spend alone. I need to go out and do something, whether alone or with people. I just can’t stay at home while I’m alone or else I get really nostalgic because I’m lonely and have all this time on my hand to think. Unless I’m super motivated to simply work (which hasn’t been the case for a few weekends now), I shouldn’t be alone. I have no plans to change this any time soon. I simply thought I should get that out there to see what the universe decides to do with me.

School ends in about five weeks. I’ve yet to sign up for this coming fire season, but I’ll be doing that sometime next week. I have summer plans for work, stuff like upgrading every machine to Windows 8 and cleaning up the wires from all our switches. And I’m also planning to try my shot at spending the summer with the cute girl from work. I’ve decided to just try and see what happens. She might even say no so all this “should I or shouldn’t I” could be moot. The universe loves to play jokes on me.

I turn 29 in a few weeks, and I still have no clue what I’m doing. Some people might think I have my shit together, that I’m super organized and super responsible, but I have no fucking idea what I’m doing, at least with the stuff that really matters. Woop-de-do, I have a well-organized todo list. What has that gotten me, though? I’m still alone, and no todo list or app will ever help me find fulfillment. That comes with work and living life. I haven’t lived, at least not the way I want to. In a year and two weeks I’ll be turning 30, three decades on earth with what to show for it? This blog? Please.

I want to fly. I want to run as fast as I can and jump off a cliff. I want to backflip off a flying plane and fly. I want to swim with sharks. I want to parachute into a fucking forrest fire. And I want to find someone who loves me and wants to do all those things with me. Hell, I want to do all these things because she forced me to do them. I don’t want to live like a turtle, hiding inside my shell while the world moves rapidly right outside. I used to be so scared to smile at a pretty girl, and now that’s all I seem to do. That’s good progress. Now I just need to ask for dates.

About a month ago I started shaving my chest and stomach, and today I bought my first razor in years. I look amazing, at least to me. I decided to redo Insanity Max: 30 once I finish this round of Insanity next week. I don’t want to stop. I want to get stronger. I want to go to the lake and swim with my shirt off proudly. Maybe the universe will shine brightly on me this summer. All I gotta do is show up.

My thoughts have been all over the place today, and there’s no clean thread that connects them all. That’s as it should be, I think, because sometimes life is a series of moments with no “story” to it yet. My day was like that today. I could sit here for half an hour and figure out a convoluted way to write an entry with a clear beginning, middle, and end and some sort of moral at the end or something, but I don’t want to tonight.

Fire season is coming up, and a few weeks ago, I was debating whether to even sign up, but over the past few days I’ve become very excited to go out there again. I think a big reason for that has been that I’ve been going through many of my old fire photos and posting them on my Instagram. The process I’ve enjoyed the most has been editing them, especially cropping them, because it’s given me an outlet to tell a story. I like telling stories.

Last fire season, I remember wanting to buy a lot more supplies to make this fire season a bit more comfortable, but once fire season ended, those desires faded away. They’re back now, though, and the two big things I want to buy is a battery case for my phone and not one but two battery packs to give me that extra juice to keep my phone charged, just in case I can’t use a car charger. I need to keep my blog updated, and I have to use my phone for that; not only that, I want to take even more photos than I ever have before because, again, I want to tell stories with images. It’s fun and it’s kind of addicting. I’ll see, though. I have to make room for it in my budget.

And all this talk about photography has made me want to drive around Montana just to find cool places to photograph. In fact, with photography on the mind, I’ve been seeing the world differently. I’m noticing light a lot more now, and I’m composing shots in my head in a way that conveys some sort of feeling and/or story I want to tell. To go along with that, I’ve been focusing on feelings and tones a lot more, and I like it. For example, say I’m feeling adventurous. I’ll think about taking photographs that not only convey that but sustain that emotion over a series of photographs. That’s a cool way to think about stories that I haven’t considered before.

Speaking of stories, I finished Chapter 14 of my novel, and tomorrow I start Chapter 15. I think I’m three chapters away from finishing my book, so this is a big deal. I’m weeks away from finishing this first draft, and I can’t wait to get there because I really want to start on the rewrite. Yesterday I cracked one more story for one of my characters, and I really want to go back to the beginning and mold it into the novel. I hope it works.

Unlike last weekend, I plan to make this weekend epic. I got a lot to do and only two days to do it in. More reading, more writing, more friggin’ awesomeness. How about I stop talking and start doing? Yeah.

Sometimes I have imaginary conversations in my head that I may or may not act out in real life.¹ One recent conversation has been with a female stereotype of sorts. She’s not real but instead represents some future female I’d talk to or something. Somebody like the cute 18 year old from school. In this conversation, for some reason, I talk about my feelings, because that’s what I think about, my feelings. I told her that I feel things extremely, in that if I’m angry, I have to experience and sense the whole spectrum of anger. If I’m in love, I have to passionately express my feelings of love. Some people may say I’m just passionate, and I’d agree. But I do think it’s more than that, though.

For the past few days, I’ve been writing a lot about photography, and hey, I’m still really interested in it, so I don’t think this is some fad I’ve fallen into this week. I love expressing myself, and I really think and believe photography is a great outlet for me to do that that’s different from writing. I’m still telling stories, which I love, but it’s with a single image. It’s a tough challenge to tell an interesting story with a photograph, but it’s something I really want to explore and get better at. I love the idea of telling stories differently.

I used to believe that all humans are the same. That we all felt the same and saw the world in the same way. For a long time I thought and believed that. Then I grew up. That’s so far from the truth that I have to laugh at myself for ever thinking that. But part of that experience has stuck around, to the point where I think it’s redundant to talk about my feelings because everyone feels the same way. I had to write this little preface because I don’t know if everyone feels their emotions as extremely as I do or even if what I think is extreme is normal to everyone else. I don’t think that’s true, though, but I don’t know. I really believe that artists become artists because they feel their emotions more passionately than everyone else, and that’s why they become artists, to use their art to express their overflowing emotions.

I love very deeply, and I hurt very painfully, and I get angry very dangerously. I think a big reason why I’ve latched on to meditation so much, especially on this journey I started 228 days ago, is because I know I need to take control of my emotions. I need to be more selective on how I express them, especially when it comes to people. I’ve scared people away with how deeply I feel things², and I don’t want to be alone anymore, so I don’t want to scare anyone away, so I have to change this part of myself, I think.

I know I should love myself for who I am and be who I am and all that, but sometimes we have to check ourselves and reign ourselves back a bit to live in the society we’ve chosen to call home. Who knows, though. Maybe I should just be who I want to be, express myself as deeply and passionately as I want to, and I’d only scare away the people who were only getting in my way from finding the people I should be with.

Earlier this year, I was offered the opportunity to teach my own class to a small group of high school students. That opportunity eventually morphed into a co-teaching the drama class with another teacher job, and I’ve learned a lot since starting that about a month or so ago. Today the principal asked me if I wanted to teach a Focus group next week, the same job he offered me earlier, and I said yes. That means I’ll be teaching two classes this quarter. I did a bit of hustling and told him that next fall I could join up with an English teacher and teach a creative writing class. He loved that idea and agreed to give it to me. All these things will definitely look good on my grad school résumé…

Teaching is fun, but I also have to admit that it’s tough to motivate unmotivated kids. My very first idea assignment was having these kids write a five page story just to see where they were creatively and academically. The drama teacher immediately nixed that idea, so I came up with our current project where these kids perform the first 10 pages of the Social Network script. I wanted them to memorize their parts and perform that in front of the class, but the drama teacher again nixed that idea. Since then, I’ve just been coming up with ideas for the kids to do and the drama teacher telling the students about it and assigning the homework. Even though we’re teaching these kids the stuff I wanted to teach them, it’s not what I expected it to be. I thought I’d be given more of a chance to teach, but that hasn’t happened. With my own class, however…

With my new Focus group — and a Focus group is kind of like a study hall, but with a particular focus on something, like cinema for me — I was thinking of incorporating my current fascination for photography into the class somehow. Cinema is, of course, a visual medium, so photography is a natural and perfect fit. This might provide the necessary excuse to ahem spend that money on a great camera. I might not, but if I want something, I somehow do what I need to do to get it. I’m excited for this class because it’ll be a smaller group of students, I’ll be the only teacher, and I think we’ll have fun. I want to focus on one aspect of cinema, and that’s telling a short story visually. I don’t care about acting or lighting or anything; all I care is that the images tell a cohesive story. I’m not sure what this will look like with actual students, but that’s where my thoughts are right now.

And if all else fails, I’d be teaching myself a subject I love and that could always use some brushing up on. I’m learning photography concepts, and the best way to retain that information is by teaching it to others. So even if the class ultimately fails, I would have gotten something out of it. I don’t think it will, though. You know why? Because I’m awesome. Yeah!!

I’ve been on a photography kick for the past few days, and I’m really enjoying it. I’ve been posting a lot of photos on my Instagram, which is a social network I’m really loving. I love seeing so many creative artists taking some fantastic photos. It’s inspiring, and it makes me want to be a better photographer. Years ago I watched some Lynda.com videos on photography, and a lot of the concepts stuck around, but I never really used it in any active way. I’m back to watching photography tutorials on Lynda.com, as well as some on Skillshare, and I really feel like I have all the knowledge I need; I just need to go out there, take pictures, and learn.

All the way back on Day 60 I talked about wanting to buy a very good camera. Even though I really love the iPhone 6’s camera and that it’s super portable and always with me, my desire for a better camera — a professional camera — is back. I feel like I’ve artistically wasted my current stay in Montana. Sure, I’ve taken some great wildland firefighting photos, and I’m currently processing and editing the best shots I took over the past few years, but I know if I was a bit more active about it, I could take some beautiful shots of Montana’s gorgeousness. I don’t know… just something I’m thinking about and currently feeling.

One thing I don’t like that I do is think that by getting another tool, I would in effect be more creative and/or productive. An external object isn’t going to fix an internal flaw. What’s wrong with the camera on my iPhone? It is the most popular camera in the world. I guess I want a certain look that my iPhone can’t produce. And playing around with physical lenses seems like so much fun to me. Also, I want to work with RAW images and have an excuse to buy and master Adobe Lightroom. They did just come out with version 6 today. I do have to consider the cost, though: a good camera, mirrorless or a DSLR, a couple of good lenses, Adobe Lightroom, and probably an external hard drive to store all my images, will run a few grand, not to mention the added time sink using, learning, and processing all these tools.

Photography is just a hobby, and a man needs a hobby. Writing, on the other hand, isn’t a hobby. It’s my life. It really is. I love doing it, I love thinking about it, and I love getting better at it. Photography could very well be a passing fad. Just something I’m excited about now because it’s a distraction from… whatever. Life or something. Or it could stick around for a while. The joy is in the journey. A year from now I’ll know. Tomorrow, though? Who knows. All I know is that I’m excited about it now, and I just want to learn about it more and go out there and take some awesome shots.