Breakthroughs

So, if anybody has ever been in a recovery group, or at least knows the process
The one phrase that gets repeated most is,
"Most addicts will give up their addiction, only to breed another"
Something I heard all the time, and even now six and a half years later I finally get it
Sure, I gave up my drugs, picked up the suds, but that's not the breakthrough
The breakthrough came when I realized something,
Something mystical, something new

All the schemes, the lies, the trickery, my aggressive nature, my destructive habits,
My nightmares, my fantasies, my attention to detail...
It all came back into my hands again, it came into a new realm
It came into food, it came into my dreams, my ambitions of one day being a Chef
All those lost years and hours spent looking to score,
All these years and hours spent looking to make a perfect recipe
For all I knew for so long was mix one part blind ambition, tack on a little baggie
A few twirls of the hand...perfectly numb, perfectly oblivious,
perfectly broke, but that was my escape

The equation strangely remains the same, but has different coefficients
Some new variables to take into consideration

Sometimes the question of "who are you?" isn't the best
At times it's better to ask "WHAT are you?"

Untitled

So, someone once asked me to write something about them
More so, dedicate a blog that nobody reads about them
I've thought about it for a couple days now, and this is the result

I don't understand you, something about you I can't comprehend
Maybe it's me not being able to comprehend my ownself
I think however, it's something far deeper than that
My inner webbing if you will

See, as humans most things that we can't understand frustrate us
Things I can't understand drive me...whether it be for the good or bad
Moderation is a goal, it's a key asset of life
It keeps us a class above dogs, but when you really think about it
What really makes us better than dogs?

Sure, most humans don't lick assholes, shove their nose into an asshole,
fail to see the excitement of our loved one coming home
Offer protection of their life to their loved one
Hell, even play the game of fetch
I'd kill to be a dog for a day

I'd kill to be a care-free, child again, but I know if I went back in time
Did this different, did that different
I wouldn't
I couldn't even do it if I tried

Everything in the past events of my life, my joys, my sorrows, my mistakes
My loves, my dreams, my ambitions, my failures...
They have all made me who I am today
Some may say I'm a walking contradiction, a train wreck, or even a ticking time bomb
I'll agree only on one condition
I feel things, I see things, I open my eyes every morning in search of something new

My biggest fear is that one day I won't see this, I'll hit that plateau
I'll view my life just like every other asshole in the world
Wake up, shower, work, eat, sleep
No, that's far from my routine

I find it funny that you have a bucketlist, and call yourself an adventurist
I fail to see the sense in adventure in you
I see your opinions based on what other people say, think, and even feel
I bet you buy you're panties on the basis of "well, my friend looks cute in them"

You seem to strive on other people's opinions, yet fail to make your own
It's been said, "nothing gold can stay"
Nothing gold can stay, in fact, everyone has their own faults, and downfalls
A new heir to the throne, a freshly made man full of greed who wants it
Who will stop at nothing to fulfill his desires
What, though, are his desires?
For he surely doesn't know
He sees the success in the one above him, and wants his dream
Not his own dream

In my profession, it's all or nothing
You give it everything you have, blood, sweat, tears, innovation, time
You name it, I give it...but I'm not alone in this ambition
I secretly strive for perfection
The perfect dish, the perfect family, the perfect meal
For it's not just food, it's the memory it leaves behind with the people
That's what it means to eat
Good friends, good memories, and even better times
The food could be terrible, but if you remember the times you had...
You'll come back, over, and over again

I'll put my childhood very bluntly, and very short

I grew up with my own thoughts, doing my own thing, usually by myself
I played sports in my front yard, I'd hit a tennis ball with a baseball bat
I'd chase it down through yards and repeat for hours
I'd play hockey at the park, with a big traffic trash can as my opponent
I'd work on my moves, I'd practice for hours until I hurt too bad to skate home
My dad never saw this, never saw my triumphs
My parents would fight, I'd cry myself to sleep, at times I begged my father not to leave
My dad hit my mom, she stopped me from getting to him with a bat
I was still in elementary school

Skip to middle school
I got kicked out of my house
I lived with my aunt and uncle, they taught me how to live
They taught me what family really meant, and living in a family
I think back to my grandma playing kickball with me as a young kid
I digress
I started playing more hockey, I started to grow, I made friends
I still have and wouldn't trade for the world
Memories I'll never forget, never be able to escape

High School
I started my downward spiral, only to bring myself back up
I had a close friend of mine pass away, my last remembering thought before he passed
He stopped me in a hall way, asked how I was doing, and we chatted a few minutes
I never knew he was going to pass away the next day
I was too distraught to attend the funeral
At graduation he would have sat next to me at the ceremony
Instead, an empty chair, a folded gown and apron tucked away underneath
The drugs came and went, and took control
I signed into rehab myself, I needed to get away, I needed to sleep
I found the person I fell in love with, and still think about time to time
I broke up with her, I had to get clean, she didn't do them
She didn't do what I did, but I, me, myself, got myself clean
6 1/2 years my drug of choice free, and since then only done drugs twice
Considering I lied, cheated, scammed, stole, and was terribly into my addiction...I think I did well

Skip the off years, and into kitchen life

I started not knowing the difference between a French knife, and a boning knife
I just knew I had a desire to learn, to be the best, to recreate the cooking shows I watched as a kid
To imitate what my grandma did, what my mom did, what my grandfather taught me about grilling
Learning our long talks over the grill, what they all meant, what life meant, what it meant to live
So, here I am...a few months away from 21, and my Chef thinking I was older
Just to take the edge off of my intensity, I was allowed a couple pints before my shift
I moved up in the ranks, I'd spend all day in the kitchen, the staff slowly got weeded out
Cocaine issues and an escort problem with one cook always needing more money
A culinary student who couldn't hang with the, what I presumed at the time "big boys"
A slowly dying restaurant, and the front of house all having a drinking problem
I never felt so alive
A barback who would tell me how he walked across the river to get to Texas
How he sent money back to his family, how terribly he missed them,
As well as mexican remedies for everything imaginable
Those doors closed

I have ever since been bouncing around from place to place
Searching for family, for comfort, and more so...good money, and even better food
I've lost family, friends, love gained, and love lost
I've worked with great people, I've worked with shit
In the end? I've learned from everyone I have ever worked with
Every shift, every time I punch the clock, I cut myself, I burn myself
I've learned

I aim to please, but there is only so much I can do
I can't fix everyone, and I guess this is me moving on, this is me evolving
The past is a very real thing, but we can't dwell it
We can only move forward, think in the future, think of dreams coming true
My advice to you is dream more

Live out your dreams, just dream
I seem to live in nightmares, I live in pain, I give myself the pain
I work in a hot, enclosed space, no windows, sharp objects, open flames, and a dead carcass to make beautiful
Of course, I'm a bit of a mess...

But, in the end? I love every minute of it
I'll make something of myself one day
It's progressing
I'm a work in progress

Hellview

So, I keep having these strange, almost reoccurring dreams
Same plot line, but never the same instance
I'm always searching for something, or someone, a longing desire
I know myself...or so I think I do

Of course, I'm always longing for something, and have a desire to obtain a goal
Or a dream in this case
Maybe it's a longing for my own kitchen, my own renegade ship of pirates over the stoves
While I sit at the helm, giving the fire commands and sending molten hot food plates out

Perhaps it could be a longing for closure of my fallen family members
Actually knowing who my father really is, and finally hearing the famous
Words from movies as the father lies on the death bed, "I'm proud of you son"
It could be my subconscious desire to be better than what I am
Having my hand back, and going about my merry way to the land
Of white picket fences where I once was

We are all dressed in decay, in the same familiar realm trying to escape from ourselves
I however, don't wish to escape...I want to discover it, I want to discover myself
In depth, not just the surface