jack of hearts

i used to be happy just doing nothing, being with those i loved. i used to be content. sports used to be the biggest thing that mattered to me in the world.

that was a while ago.

now i sit up at night and think, ponder. wonder about the world and the nature of humans. i wonder why i feel the way i do. i wrestle with myself. with my inner self, with my thoughts. its like putting your palms together and pushing with all your might, one arm against the other, always to no avail.

i drive to work, and work to drive. i believe this metaphor is consistent with the lives of many americans. we, as humans, we work to live, and live to work. we fail to see what's really going on. we fail to live in the moment.

we fail to take chances because we are afraid, an i am the biggest offender. i fail to take chances because i am afraid. afraid of change, afraid of the unknown , uncertainty; i am afraid to fail.

therefore, my failure is a result of my fear of failure. go figure.

i have often wondered what my purpose is. i get restless when i'm not doing something that i believe is productive. i get caught up in netflix series and get too attached to the characters. but thats not really living.

my heart is telling me to take chances, but i ignore it. i push it down to the depths of my chest; i strangle it out, to the point that it can't influence my decisions. i listen to my brain more than my heart, even though my soul resides in my heart.

i'm a jack of hearts who needs to learn to listen to his heart.

don't be me

It's story time, kids

A loud thud followed by a scraaaaaape filled the air. All eyes on the beach turned to see what the source of the disturbance was. I alone started laughing, to everyone's dismay. Why are you laughing? Those around me questioned my reaction. 

It all started with a Sunday meeting, during which youth leaderships and adult advisers were to decide on monthly youth activities for the coming year. "Let's go boating", some 12 year old suggested. And that's just what we decided to do. 

The lake was deer creek. It was August. 95 degree weather. Perfect for a nice day on the lake with hamburgers and hotdogs for dinner afterward. My dad had been asked if he would travel up to the lake with out family's boat. He agreed, and I was his trusty assistant, ready and willing to take captaincy of the boat while my father backed down the truck to launch the boat. But, to my dismay, another adult had come in the car with us, and it was he whom my father trusted to drive the boat while he launched the thing. I reluctantly agreed with the plan, and everything went smoothly while launching the boat. 

We had a fun day on the lake, the hamburgers and hotdogs were all eaten, the Oreos devoured, and the watermelon consumed. A successful day on the lake, and a good wholesome youth activity. Everyone started packing up the beach, and I went to my father to see if he needed help trailering the boat. I then asked my dad if I could drive the boat while he backed the car down the ramp. I had never piloted the boat while trailering it, but I had watched my father do it dozens of times , and I felt confident in my fourteen year old driving ability. But my father, seeing as I had never done it before, decided to ask Mr. Olson, the man who had launched it with my father earlier. "Yup I've done it before, yep, it'll be fine, I'll do it," Mr. Olson insisted. 

So, i was on the beach, chatting with friends when I heard it, a loud thud followed by a scraaaaaape. That was when I started laughing. "Sorry," Mr. Olson said. "I guess I haven't actually done it before, I've just seen it and it didn't look too difficult." 

Mr. Olson had accelerated the boat too fast and completely rammed the hull of the boat into the back of our pickup. "At least the boat's not damaged," I told my father on the drive home. Mr. Olson, not in our car, had decided to hitch a ride with someone else on the trip home. 

the upshot of David Charleston

Upshot: the final or eventual outcome; the conclusion or result of a discussion or series of events.

This is the upshot of David Charleston...

I have thought about this post for weeks, never knowing exactly what to say, 

What I wanted to say. 

I have nothing to say

I have nothing profound to say, 

Not a pithy saying, 

Not a clever riddle, 

Nor a well-versed poem. 

I have been verbose in my writing all throughout this semester, yet now, 

I can't think of how to do this. 

I guess it's because I'm scared. 

Scared is not strong enough a word to describe what I am feeling. 

I have been frightened, no terrified of this post. 

I feel like I need to give you guys something inspiriational, 

Something meaningful, 

Something to make you think,

Or something that makes you inhale sharply, or exhale slowly....

But I have nothing, nothing more than the truth

The raw, ugly truth.

The truth is that I'm not David Charleston. 

I'm not a character in a fictional novel. 

I don't have his depth. 

I don't have his heart. 

I don't have his deep soul. 

I don't have his experience or his ability to learn from his mistakes. 

I make mistakes, then I make them again and again. 

I misread situations. 

I don't understand, when the truth is obvious, staring me in the face. 

I have a short memory, and most of my problems are self-inflicted. 

I am not David Charleston. 

But...

I am 100% real. 

Everything I've posted about over this semester is 100% real. 

Completely the truth. 

This is the upshot of David Charleston: 

My name is Tanner Klein. 

And thanks for reading my blog and commenting. 

It means a lot. 

Please continue to stick with me. 

Thanks. 

In case you don't know me, 

Here's a selfie: