While maintiing a level headedness.

I  want to be well known.

Not so I can feed in to my own vanity. I understand that,  that might seem like a bit of a cliche but its not. There are two distinct reasons for my unnecessary desire to be known by strangers. The first being that I want to influence people in a good way and be a good role model to those who need one, as well and possibly in that same vain, I want to show society that a person can enjoy the world and still be a Christian.

Some would say that my goals and my aspirations would be that of self seeking pride, or of glory. That in order to seek fame and fortune one must by nature be a nihilist and selfish. To be able to make ones self known, you must first rid your self of morals and conservatives that  make the modern man a true and honest person Just look at the realm in which our highest and most celebrated people act, they have taken the restraints of society and loosened them to further their own popularity. How could any simple man want to be know by strangers and still possible hold fast to the ideals of simplicity and good nature.

To me the answer is quite simple actually. The very idea that one holds fast to their ideals and morals makes them a prime candidate to be placed in a position of fame. Its the way I think that our political system should work, though it doesn't and that's a completely different blog. But the point being that I, myself, should be able to look for fame in showing the world my values. I should bet on my beliefs and my view points to help me succeed in the world. I don't believe that people should use them to hold me back, and strip me of my dreams.

To say, I hope that what I do with my writing and art and comedy and endeavors of any kind would be to help kids who are like how I was and help them grow in a way that is undamaging. I want to feed into the idea that we are all worth life, and that there is some how a glimmer of light in any dark that we might be facing. Though to be honest this is a message that a lot of artists and musicians have. From emo punk kids to directors and writers, they all have a shtick of helping people work through something hard. While I applaud the heart of their message, I find it lacking.

The only true  light that I have ever found in my life is that of Jesus Christ. DON'T WORRY, this is not a sermon. I'm not going to go off on the nature and truth that is the living God taking on flesh and dieing for all of mankind's sins. I'm simply stating what I have found to be the light that others have, in my life, said that I should hold onto. While they tell me that, I'm not sure what it is that they have taken a hold of to be able to relay that message.

So now I say I want to be well known so that some random kid out there can see my work and find in him/herself  a desire to do something for some reason. I think back to meeting a few of my personal "Heroes". Some of them I think on fondly, allowing me to wish even more to be like that person. As for others I think of how star struck I was, and how awkward I end up being. To those That I have done that to, I'm immensely sorry and I hope that one day I get a chance to ask your forgiveness. But I look at these people and something inside me stirs, something finds joy in their accomplishments. It's like jealously, its like envy , but it's also like mentor-ship, like trail blazing. Its Inspiration.

This is the exact feeling that I want others to feel when I do something. I want what I write, say, do and think to inspire young people to take action and take control of their lives. That is not a bad thing, to any person out in the world, the idea of inspiration is not bad. so why is it wrong for me to dream that one day I become known enough to influence people from distance. It is the whole idea of Christianity to help those we don't know, and I honestly hope that one day I can do that.

Finally and like I said earlier, probably along the same vain as wanting to influence people, I want to show the world that the Bible is a great place to find inspiration for art. Walking a christian life is a line that requires a lot of balance. Often, Christians find themselves living it two separate worlds, their Sunday "Christ like" world and their "normal" world. I find this ridiculous. I will not jump from side to side of a single broadening line. Instead I will let my art and my skills and abilities speak to the Christ like person I try to be. There is a movement in the world, that a work of art is an extension of a person's thoughts and beliefs. While I admit that its not a new movement, and that people have been a part of it for hundreds of years, It's still something that I must make myself apart of. Its something that I hope I can help young Christians see, and help them live it.

In everything I do, I wish to show that God is not out dated, nor is he non existent and that he is always working, always trying to produce in us a better person. Again, this is not a sermon., so I will simply end with this. I don't want to convert the people of the world, no do I want to shove my beliefs down their throat, but I have been inspired to show the world my light, my joy. So I want to be well known, so that all that I stand for, all that I do believe is, along with me, well known. In the end, I pray that Truth will reveal itself, and in everything that I will give someone out there hope. 

T.W. Clawson

Who are we to drink from the cup?

I can see exactly why I have no money.

We have a certain notion that our money is ours, that it belongs to us. Yet we beg for it and plead for it from anybody we can. Asking the nation to give us a sense of worth, and a place to show off our inherent wealth. To a common kind growing up in the world, we are told that we are special and worth being around. when we grow up we see on T.V. or in the movies that the people that are really special are the people that have money and can do things that others can't. 

When we come out of high school we are told that if you don;t go to university or even some kind of collage than you are a waste of time, basically useless. I was told coming out of high school that it was basically necessary to get my associates degree in order to make myself worth something. but as i got my associates in a field that I find completely useless, I was told that getting an associates was like getting a high school diploma, and in order to set myself apart i had to at least get my bachelors.

Now, I'm not angry that I in a sense had the carrot hung in front of me, and then pulled further away. That is something that happens in society today. You look at Debt or career paths or Holidays or even the idea of family and you will always have that carrot stung out further. No, What I'm irritated about is the idea that It wasn't until after  had my associates that I even started to see what I wanted to do with my life. I love make videos and acting, but from what I learn both looking at the world and trying to get into the world myself, is that these are not careers but hobbies. At least, for me, its that way for a very long time.

My advice to anybody looking going into film for a career is this; do not do it right away. Go to school from something simple, something that will allow you to live, allow you to get married and eat. I'm not saying that you should do this, but I feel like I could have gone to school for accounting and been able to make a much better living, while exploring the talents that God gave me. 

I do urge you to consider the implications of going straight for your "dreams" to early in your life, people who might be possibly reading this and who are under 25 and who might actually have aspirations in life.  You will be living in a world of doubt and confusion, while trying maintain order and independence for yourself. Its an odd combination of fun and torture and I really wouldn't recommend it to anybody. Though, some will thrive on the life of an artist. I certainly don't look down on those that feel this is the correct path for them, I seemly heed a warning of person experience. 

This culture has taught us that we have been born into royalty, and that we deserve everything good given to us. That we have the right to be famous, that we were made to be rich, but the fact is this is not so. We have to achieve these thing, we must work at it, we must strive for it. The idea of the american dream has changed in the last hundred years, quite extremely. 

When our grandfathers and great grandfathers came to this country they came with the sense that their lives would be better. Not because the government would give them an easy way out, but because they would be given the opportunity to make something of themselves.

So now it's our turn, to take life by the horns and look it straight in the eye. Ready to work our asses off and find out who we are in the process. Then and only then will we be able to show the world who we are and what we are made of.  It's only when you let the world mold you and shape you, that you finally have something to reveal. It's only when you shed the skin of your prepubescent thoughts, allowing you to see how the faults of the past are corrected, that you can start to move in the right direction to change them for good. 

Don't let your youth scare you from being apart of the world, but rather let it springboard you into the seasons of life, and help you become who you were meant to become. 

Purposeful.

T.W. Clawson

All I Want for Christmas is Happiness

It's that time of year, when the world seems to turn a little slower, and the air seems a little fresher.
For just about everybody, we start to look at the year we just went through. Questioning every action we made for better or for worst, hoping that we made the right decisions. Wondering if the new year will bring better prosperity and new ventures.
I know that it's a cliche to talk about how much you hate the holidays, and when it comes right down to it I don't hate the holidays. So I'm not going to talk about how much i hate the holidays. Rather I hate what it does to people, and I hate how secluded I feel.
This time of year is spoken about as if it brings people together, which i don't believe has ever actually happened. I can see the idea that the cold of winter would some how make people want to cuddle together for warm and share a fire and stories,makes complete sense to me. But what with the rather ingenious innovations of central air heating and but warmers in cars, that idea is something of a sentiment. Instead of looking for community for warm and the spirit of others to de-thaw  we have replaced it with a simple setting on our microwaves and convection ovens.
So what is the point of gathering together for a festivious of glee and gay cheer? If we are no longer in need of others around us to keep our spirits bright and out butts, why have people around at all?
I would like to say its the common gravitational pull of human nature to have others around, just to have them around but I truly believe its more of a cynical sum of our greed. While being employed by retail .companies for the last four years, which I know is not as much as some, but its more than a lot, I have learned that this time of the year revolves around one thing. The Idea that someone could get another person the best gift possible. This works to the greed of man in two ways.
The first is that we feel that we should be able to make someone else happy as much as possible, and through such actions we make ourselves happier. Its not even a sacrifice, its not a gift of love, its a gift of greed and only done to further ones own gain. Its a mandatory to give, or you will lose out on friendship and love.
This is just how I feel at the very least, if your the kinda person that can genuinely give with no ulterior motive, than bully for you. well done.

The second thing that seemingly presents itself to me is the idea that we deserve what ever we want. I am not excluded from such a high ranking thought in self image, but rather a poster boy for this folly. While being employed at these retail storefronts for hell i have seen what it is that people get for each other, something written on a list, something on a registry, a meaningless trinket of lack of emotion. I have watched as a person has bought a second person a gift, right in front of them. while having the balls to say, "Now this is your Christmas gift, don't think that you get this till then."

the whole idea of gift giving is to surprise and to show that someone is worthy of deserving affection with out the required idea of earning it. But we have accustomed our self to the idea that we should recive something for no reason. this idea has spun out of control so far as to the idea of overseeing somebody buying our reward for living. Soon we will buy items for ourselves on credit, requiring our loved ones to pay us back for our own debt.
I hate the way that people push and shove and bully to get what they want. We could go back to wanting nothing but people around us, no matter what the sacrifice, and we could build community, and just be happy with those that gather near.

T.W. Clawson

Scraping for oil and God will Provide...

Wow, so I'm actually blogging from a cafe, sipping on coffee.
The internet got turned off in my house. something that goes along with barely working and not actually having a career, or money.  So I decided to walk down to the cafe down the street and enjoy a nice over price cup of coffee while being squished into a small table and seat, all so that i can listen to music while I write.
Isn't it funny what we will do to get what we want? I mean, I pack my bag and trekked a good twenty minutes, just so that i wouldn't have to listen to my heater ramble on while I wrote. Other are willing to compromise so much of the things that they are to get to a certain place in life.
And we strive to be such people as we see on in the media, don't we. Most of the people that I meet in life have goals and dreams and aspirations for their lives. and how many of those people actually achive success in their dreams. it has to be a very small percentage that actually figure out how to make their goals happen.
I think that I'm afraid of becoming a failure. in fact, I know that this is a fear of mine. I'm not talking about the whole, "Oh i hope that i make the right decisions and do well in life." or "I don;t want people to see me as a quitter." Honestly I couldn't care less if I made it in my life.
Whatever It looks like.
I don't care if people view me as a quitter or underachiever.
Not for my sake at least. I'm more concerned about the woman i love than myself. I want to be able to make her comfortable, and keep her happy. I could live in a shitty old apt for the rest of my life, as long as im surrounded by my family and the work i love to do.
Please don't mistake this as me saying i would prefer to live in a shitty old apartment, and like to wallow in my own filth.
I mean, yeah I'm pretty lazy when it comes to cleaning. and sometimes im worried that i am going an alien life form in my sink... But i will get to the dishes at some point... later.
What im saying is, that for me to be happy I don't need to have a house and a white picket fence. The only reason i think of those things is because i want to give those to my Love. The Girl who has been at my side for every right turn and wrong turn. I want to give her the life that she has dreamed of.
People have always asked me what my favorite car is. and that was always a hard question to answer, not that i didn't answer it well. I made people think that i real love for Honda Elements, but the fact is, I really don't care. Having a car is not a sign of doing well. I believe that very much when it comes to america.
And jag hole, who has yet to put themselves into debt  can get a nice car.
And we are told that putting yourself into debt is a great thing! what sort of crazy person came up with that?
You need to go put yourself into debt, so that you can look better, when you go put your self in more debt! Wha!? Then whats the point of putting your self in that bigger debt? so you can have a bigger house to try and fill with more things, that you buy with your credit card, which help you look better in debt!
Eventually you tire of how big you house is, and how much debt you have accumulated, and you sell off your debt and get smaller stuff.

I believe that we should be living with in our means. Not trying to catch up with our living.
Hell, I firmly believe that majority of people who have careers don't "NEED" most of the money that they make.
But this is beginning to be a rant...
or it is... whichever... im going to shut it down now.
All I wanted to say was, i miss having the internet at my house. and I love my Girlfriend.
T.W. Clawson.

Me throughout history.

So this post is a fun something I decided to throw up. Its going to be a kind of where's Waldo, but with ME!

Hope you enjoy.

T.W. Clawson

Moon Landing

WoodStock

Marian Luther King JR. "I have a dream" Speech

This is My Unfortunate Post

I am the middle son, between two skinny ones.

Not that I'm the fattest guy in the world, but I am pretty big. I have no delusions of what I am, and what I look like. Nor do I have and false ideas of who my brothers are in comparison. The two of them are taller and leaner, built like MMA fighters. 

In fact that's exactly what they do. The oldest is a skilled and determined guy who has been fighting since he was a kid. There is always a certain mentality that goes with being in Mixed Martial Arts, and this guy has it. The whole idea that he would rather die than lose. Even in small contests, he was crazy. We would play something like chicken and he would go all out.  

The object of which would be to punch the other person as hard as one can on the arm, then wait for them to do the same. Then start over again. After a few rounds, The arm starts to become raw, and then people lose all desire to even win. Because winning requires one to lose their arm in the process. 

My older brother, being the man of iron that he was, never lost a game. He would simply take the pain and move on. Luckily the idea of inflicting pain n me was more exciting than the sting of my hits, so it was easy for him to continue. 

He would take in as much pain as possible as long as there was a promise of inflicting as much possible on the other person. This is why he does so well at Muay Thai, kick boxing and Brazilian jujitsu. This is why when he kicked another fighter in the face in round one and broke his foot on the dudes face, he simply shook it off. Not only did he just shake it off and go into the second, but he won the whole fight! The guy is nuts.

My younger brother is the most stubborn and  In-Your-Face fighter ever. The second a fight begins, he is wrapping his arms around an opponent and doesn't let go to save his life. He reminds me of a sloth clinging to a tree. If sloths were trying to break trees' arms off. 

I have personally pinned the kid to the ground and had my arms around his neck and he refused to tap. Just when I had a victory under my belt, he does some ridiculous flip and ends up putting me into an arm bar. He would rather look like a red fish sucking in for air, letting he complexion turn to a nice shade of purple than to tap on his own. The only way to win against his is to actually make his pass out. 

Now, this is not really a story about my brothesr, but about my dad. The thing is, my brothers are a lot like my dad when he was younger. Tall, lengthy and always willing to fight. I know my dad is proud of this, I kinda envy that as well. The idea that my dad is proud of those to because of how God put them together kinda, just kinda, gets under my skin. 

Please do take this as a rant on how much my dad loves my brothers, and not me. It has nothing to do with the fact that my older brother got all the opportunities and my little brother gets all the attention and I get left in the dust. Or how my younger brother got away with everything, and my older brother got all the cool new stuff. I simply got the hand me downs and got sent to my bed room. 

This isn't about how I spent my childhood feeling like the freaking hunch back of notre dame, while my brother were like... that guy... from that movie... the really good looking one, that gets the girls.

Ok, well it kinda is. My dad loves me, and would die for me and he does treat me extremely well. I love him very much, and most of the feelings I laid out were fabrications. but this is a story of how my dad publicly acknowledged that I was his worst son. 

He and I sat in the "Animal house" MMA gym watching my brothers spar. Dad was considering getting my younger brother a membership there, and the little kid was enjoying the free lessons. I was checking the place out and getting a feel of the fighters. It's pretty cool to watch some of the fighst, when all I've seen was UFC. It's amazing to see the talent that the biggest fighting organization in the world is missing. Maybe one day, I will see one of those fighters on the under-card or something, maybe. 

While I sat there watching the fights, The lead Instructor came out and struck up a conversation with my dad.  It was a civil discussion, on the way the gym looked, and how long they had been in the area. The instructor's nick name was "The Animal", which is why the MMA gym was called "The Animal House".  I only explain this, because it took me FAR to long to figure it out on my own. and I don't want anybody to feel as dumb as I did.

Animal and my dad talked on about the career that Animal had. Fighting in small stuff and large events a like. Even getting to the point of fighting in the UFC as an under card. Some of the stories were fascinating, the people that he, not only knew, but had put into submission were crazy. Surely enough the conversation turned to my younger brother, and the possibility of getting him a membership. It was the real reason that Animal had approached my Dad in the first place, and I could see that, but it didn't make his stories any less invigorating. 

My dad then started to speak on what he was interested in seeing my younger brother doing, and tied it into a couple stories of his time as a boxer. He then started to brag on the two sons he had in the cage. 

"These two really have a lot of the same traits that guys from my family do." he said. Speaking like a promoter for a boxer. 

"They have the tall lengthy build that helps in MMA and, I can see that it really helps in fighting. They are strong and agile and have really profound skills." 

This is where it happened,one of the most entertaining moments of my life. Only because to this day, I simply refuse to allow my dad off the hook. reminding him of his blunder every chance I get.

What my dad wanted to say at that point, as he turned and looked at me was, with me sitting alone in a chair, as big as I am in comparison to just about every living person in that building.  

"Unfortunately Tyler got the bigger genes of the family. Really strong, really balanced, but bigger." 

I know this because we have had this conversation before. It's not just wishful thing on my part, hoping my dad wanted to say something nice about me. I had heard this sort of thing being said before. 

Now here is the problem, Animal had no idea who I was. for all he knew I was a fat stalker watching the beautiful people sweat. This a cured to my dad at some point. unfortunately it was a little to late. He had committed to one sentence, but decided to introduce me at the same time. so what he ended up saying was...

"UNFORTUNATELY, This is my middle son Tyler." 

The air was silent. he knew what he had said. he knew that I had heard, and Animal was simply looking at the fat kid sitting by himself. The only thing that could have made the picture better is if I was wearing a spinning top hat, and holding an ice cream cone. 

I simply smiled and looked at Animal. It didn't faze me in the least, I opened my my mouth an replied. 

"You see how he introduces me to the out side world? this is why I don't come out very often." 

T.W. Clawson

Hello morning, you came much to soon.

I woke up this morning at 3 am. 

Don't worry this isn't going to be another rant on my early morning walks or love loss there of.
No, I woke at 3 to the sound of clicking. It might sound harmless, and somewhat anti-climatic, but the fact is that this clicking was loud enough to wake me up. Now, I'm a fairly heavy sleeper. Nothing like a log of course, but heavy none the less. I snore pretty badly, as i have been told by several people, and so I must be a pretty heavy sleeper,since I barely wake myself up. I fall asleep with the television on in the other room pretty easily. My room mates usually stay up later than I do.
I sleep with a fan on all the time, in fact I find it almost impossible to sleep with  out some kind of sound to downed out the silence. Honestly, I think that I might be afraid of silence more than dark. So I know that I'm not a wuss when it comes to sound around me when sleeping.
This clicking, on the other hand, gets under my skin. It's like having a hand hit up against the wall, and or, under the floor of my bedroom every few second to few minutes. It wakes me from sleep (like I said) and it keeps me awake. Because of this little clapping sound through out my house, I am up for hours, HOURS! That's precious time for sleep.
I used to think that it was something like an animal in my walls. It was very concerned that there were rats or some kind of rodent walking around at night. I would get up and stomp around to see if I could get it to scurry. I even went into a little hole in my wall to see if I could catch it, it find droppings. Guess what I found... nothin... squat... nilch.
Then I realized that the clicking was to exact to be an animal. There was a pattern, there was consistency. So I figured maybe it was the wind, blowing a branch against the roof, which echoed and projected into my room. I started to like this theory. mostly because it meant that I would be able to do something about it. The clicking would cause me to become so infuriated, so crazy, that I would walk climb to my roof with something sharp. Something like a chainsaw, or bull cutters, bone saw, a butchers knife. Heck I would climb to the roof with a pair of "My Little Pony" scissors to hack that branch off.
And I almost did.
There was a night that I was woken up by the devils sound, and I ran out side to watch the trees around my house. Once I was standing outside seeing the branches sway and move, and I could see that nothing was even close to hitting my roof. So that theory was a bust, and I had to move on to something else.
That's when i started to figure it was something mechanical. Nature was not against me, but rather mans creation. It had to be something man made, it sounded more and more like a machine. Thirty seconds, then two minutes, then forty five seconds, then two minutes apart. always in perfect synchronization. Perfect fits, like a cog on a watch or a grandfather clock. Oh how I wish it was a grandfather clock. The gentle and stead tick tock, and swaying would put me to sleep in moments.
No, there was something built into the walls that was determined to disrupt my dreams. There was something placed in my house that screamed out obscenities in my sleep. There was something evil in my home and i was going to find it.
I checked my bathroom, for dripping facets.
I checked the kitchen for the fridge or freezer doing weird things.
I checked under the house to see if there was something happening under there People told me that it could be the house settling. But i refused to believe it could be so innocent, and all I found was the heater sitting below my room.
THE HEATER!
how could I have missed it!? I mean, the sound seemed to echo in the vents, and it started when the weather started to get colder. It was so obvious. Well, it couldn't have been that obvious, since it took me two weeks to figure it out right? Right?
so now the battle had transitioned from a man against nature and man against machine, it had become man against man.
It was only time that could tell how my room mates would react to the news that their comfort was literally driving me mad. Knowing that the heat they craved at night, the imitation warm of a mothers womb, was slowly and methodically killing me. I had brought it up to them, and they seem to be somewhat concerned, but still unwilling to give up their precious thermal security.
I have seemed for the last few nights to find myself in the sweet delight of a full nights sleep. It was wonderful, and i thought that all was good in the home of ice.
But then, like I said, this morning, I woke to the sound of the beast, rapping in my ears. and I knew that very moment, all was not good, and something had to change.
I think I'm gonna have to talk to my roommate... I hate this.

T.W. Clawson