n 1988 i broke my left clavicle upon attempt of walking on my hands.  The accompanying picture is the face I make when I’m trying to hide pain.  Notice anything?   In this photo, taken 5 minutes ago, I’m clamping my jaw down so hard it makes the right side of my face contract.

The following year, 5th grade began, and when not collecting comics or delivering newspapers, it was baseball, basketball, and floor hockey which took up most of my time.  In addition, We, the neighborhood boys, rode our bikes miles upon miles across Penn’s Woods.  My knees began to ache bilaterally, and my parents and pediatrician chalked it up to growing pains.  I never stopped moving.  Never stopped aching.

The fractured collar bone and knee pain we the overture for the symphony of disruption.  A lifetime of injury, aches and pains of unknown origin, and constant operation in the physical pathway have lead me to this place.

Disrupted in spirit to fight, and sitting in a comfy chair under blue skies, with mountains and water within view.

I have no complaints, and though I am still bearing the load of some regret, and pain pinballs all over my body cyclically, I can walk and work whenever I choose.

However, the enthusiasm and excitement which previously marked my personality are dissipating.  I knew no limits, prior to getting fired from Trader Joe’s, and had no clue that hanging my identity on my employment was quite hazardous.  People often commented on my energy, my commitment to service, my ability to teach physical exercise to a room full of strangers.

That dude hath come and gone, and I am coming to terms with that now.  In pieces, though.

Slowly, I am to realize that i made a choice one cold night, and it has since affected me immeasurably.  New dude awakened.  Soon to be actualized.

South Philadelphia, January 6th 2012: the moment my words and actions didn’t match any of my thoughts.  The moment I chose to express jealously over a hook-up’s other hook-up’s.  She wasn’t my partner, never asked me for any exclusivity, nor did she pretend like it was anything more than a thing with a dude at work.  I was hopping mad and turned into Eric Cartman screaming racial shit about some dude she hooked up with, a dude who I thought clowned me at a bar the year prior.

Soon to follow was “well then who the f@*% am I?”

My days have not been the same since.  There is less enthusiasm in the way I approach tasks.  Likely due to the fact that I no longer value humanity to the degree i did when there was a great unknown.  I know all things, now.  I am, also, one of the most influential social theorists on this planet.  You do not know my work because I am a lazy, undisciplined, unfocused, and unproductive.

I choose no more to get excited when delivering requirements, because

A) this world is shit and who am I to pretend like I can offer you anything?

B) see A

Even more strange: I possess a compass-rose you simply must get your hands on!  Still an excellent teacher and still only $75/session, back in California and fully equipped.

I spent some money on education as a personal trainer, and the last set of tutorials I paid for was in 2014.  It is 2017 and I am nowhere near fulfilling the outline I made for myself three years ago.  There exists no jump in my step, no crispness to my appearance, and the hunger for life and each day to come has gone.  It feels as though I killed a character I was playing and now I am walking on a divergent vector, trying to use the same crutch (exercise) to shed a limp.  I am, with regard to how i want to operate, lost.

Stranger still: i sleep better than I ever have.  I have love!  A girl who was my close friend and confidant is now my woman, and we have four dogs and a pick-up truck out here in CA.  I am at ease with many, many things.  I am not obsessed with my appearance anymore.  I do not lay awake at night stressing about my value in the sexual market.  I am not as tied up in the success or failure of sports teams, I have great, great sex (I hope she does too!) and we eat clean, local foods that i cook over fire in a fenced in backyard.  I walk six miles on the beach twice a week, listening to Deftones, watching kite surfers slice across the ocean, or, witnessing something as stirring as this.  I am around, and in, love.  I hurt far less in certain places, these days.  My Coccinelle and my dogs and mountains and ocean are huge contributors to this state.

Yet: I feel as though it is required of me to be more.  Not more of what I used to crave, but more with what I possess that is truly unique.

I thought my physique and voice would get me through life.  Years of personal training and then a career in voice over.  That is what I thought.  There are way better physiques and more talented voice actors on this planet than what i harbor.

If there is anything I can do which I have not done, it is with my intellect.

Will Williams the character committed himself to the fire five years ago, when he chose the laziest form of outrage and made jealousy of a coworker sound like vitriolic racial hatred.

The last five years I pretended I was Eric Williams Jr.  “Please, call me Eric” I would say.  Like a limp-dick born-again twerp trying to resolve baggage by shedding a nickname.

The night of the 2016 US Presidential election I was shocked and immobilized for awhile.  I have come to the decision that it means nothing to be an American.  As we sit here today, nothing at all can be said to be an American value worth touting.

The end of all things is near.

Your lives may not change too much on the day-to-day, but you are no longer the good.  We, America, are the frail, the wretched, the terrible lie.

There will still be gas to put in cars, and the prisons doors will stay closed.  You can still get $5 coffee and couch-flicks or whatever you like, so tend these comforts well, that with which you pad your cell.  When there existed a lateral step out of the O’Bomber administrative state, you chose to wire the place with demo and call it a crusade.

Two months ago, someone emailed me about a post on another site I maintain.  This person had not contacted me in 5 years, and they contacted me strictly to tell me to remove a post from the other site.  This cut a chunk out of my inspiration, and I switched to video reporting for a while.   I swim, hike, and play guitar in attempts to put myself together and move in the best direction I can.  After this person contacted me I was incensed.  I went to the mountains with my iPod in order to cool it.  In doing so, I spent some time hiking and listening to a few of my biggest influences: Bill Hicks and Noam Chomsky.  I may have found a touchstone in my consciousness which will help revive my interest in offering things to other humans.

I lost myself, after I found out that I was not who I thought I was.  This life is still my favorite thing, and I possess a fine compass rose for navigation.  I would like to love it all, again.  I would love to like what I do, again.  Thanks for your time.

This has been your field correspondent Will Hicks.  You can view my field correspondence here.

Signing off,