(no subject)
Dear Friends,
I'm at a $6/hour internet cafe with five tabs open and an empty pint glass. A Nation article on Obama, Robert's first Word Puncher post, an article about the Mumbai terrorist attacks, myspace (which I've generally neglected in my internetlessness), and a few drops of oatmeal stout, pooled at the bottom. I'm going to hit the sales on Friday, hopefully to score a sweet deal on a computer, after which I'm going to subject you to a longer and possibly more boring letter. Until then, I'll have to be okay with not saying all that I want to. I do feel that I need to say just a few things now, on the eve of our country's most overshadowed holiday.
It's been a difficult year. I've made some of the worst mistakes, had some of the worst falls, seen some of the worst luck of my life. At times it's felt like I'm running this gauntlet, all of my demons there in turn, all of my personal weaknesses, all of the things that have held me down for years, staring me down with a menace that one only sees in mirrors. For a few months I was homeless and begging. I felt less than human. I lost a lot of my favorite things about myself, felt everything start to go numb inside of me.
But a few things kept me going, lugging my things from location to location, smiling in fruitless job interviews, waiting for hours at cold transit centers as I waited to find out where I would sleep before work the next morning. One is a sense of purpose, a sense that I have always had something to contribute to this shared life that we are experiencing. Another is a dream of the good life -- world travels, summertime parties, rock and roll, and a woman I'd like to meet someday. And another is humanity itself, something that I was losing faith in -- with so many cold shoulders and bad breaks, with all the ugliness that people show each other -- I was honestly beginning to wonder if the human experiment was worth sticking around to watch. But you can't quite lose faith in humanity when so many people are there help you get through, when so many people pick you up and give you a reason to run. I would like to thank these people now, for their invaluable help, in ways both great and small. I would like to thank them, in no particular order, in a way that may seem trivial compared to what they mean to me.
Thank you Mom and Dad, Koren, my Grandparents, Marah and Gus, Trieste and Jonathan, Nick, Joni, Donny, Jeffrey, Griffin and Megan, Robert and Meagan, Jason and Rachel, Jason and Amy, Amy, Courtney and Doug, Loren and Erin, Ben, Thomas, Josh, Danny, Miranda, Arya, Robert, Jeremy, Nat and Renee, Andy and Beth, Daniel, Stefen, Robbie, Tracy, Nate and Kristen (Best wishes for the baby!), Brandon, Tara, Sarah, Sara, Sarah, Lisa, Melissa, Brooke, Debra, Art, Sachi, Willie, Annie, Holly, Ali, Todd, Taud, Mikey, Adrienne, Serena, and special shoutouts to my friends at PGC, the MAC, the Adrianna Hill Grand Ballroom, the Oregon Convention Center, the Crowne Plaza Hotel, and the teachers and alumni of Brookstone School, with whom Facebook has reconnected me after so many years. If I didn't mention you, I didn't mean to not mention you. I love you guys.
A most important thank you to Debbie and Tom Puhl, who have given me a second chance at life. From a certain perspective, it must seem pathetic that, at 27, I would lack the basic life skills needed to avoid the collapse I experienced this year. You didn't give up on me, though. You extended your home, your patience, and a sense of family to me. You renewed my sense of priority and purpose, helped me regain strength, and you maintained belief in me when no one else seemed to. I can't thank you enough.
And thank you America, for the opportunity that you represent, for the dream that you uphold, for the life you have given me, and more currently, for electing Barack Obama your 44th President. Whether or not you voted for him, whether or not you agree with him, I maintain a strong belief that together -- with our inherent national strengths, with our boundless ingenuity and determination, with a renewed spirit of cooperation and hope -- we can lift America out of its current troubles and propel it into a better future. As unlikely as that may seem, I hold the highest hopes for that, just I as I hold the same for myself (as unlikely as that may seem).
Love,
Chad
I'm at a $6/hour internet cafe with five tabs open and an empty pint glass. A Nation article on Obama, Robert's first Word Puncher post, an article about the Mumbai terrorist attacks, myspace (which I've generally neglected in my internetlessness), and a few drops of oatmeal stout, pooled at the bottom. I'm going to hit the sales on Friday, hopefully to score a sweet deal on a computer, after which I'm going to subject you to a longer and possibly more boring letter. Until then, I'll have to be okay with not saying all that I want to. I do feel that I need to say just a few things now, on the eve of our country's most overshadowed holiday.
It's been a difficult year. I've made some of the worst mistakes, had some of the worst falls, seen some of the worst luck of my life. At times it's felt like I'm running this gauntlet, all of my demons there in turn, all of my personal weaknesses, all of the things that have held me down for years, staring me down with a menace that one only sees in mirrors. For a few months I was homeless and begging. I felt less than human. I lost a lot of my favorite things about myself, felt everything start to go numb inside of me.
But a few things kept me going, lugging my things from location to location, smiling in fruitless job interviews, waiting for hours at cold transit centers as I waited to find out where I would sleep before work the next morning. One is a sense of purpose, a sense that I have always had something to contribute to this shared life that we are experiencing. Another is a dream of the good life -- world travels, summertime parties, rock and roll, and a woman I'd like to meet someday. And another is humanity itself, something that I was losing faith in -- with so many cold shoulders and bad breaks, with all the ugliness that people show each other -- I was honestly beginning to wonder if the human experiment was worth sticking around to watch. But you can't quite lose faith in humanity when so many people are there help you get through, when so many people pick you up and give you a reason to run. I would like to thank these people now, for their invaluable help, in ways both great and small. I would like to thank them, in no particular order, in a way that may seem trivial compared to what they mean to me.
Thank you Mom and Dad, Koren, my Grandparents, Marah and Gus, Trieste and Jonathan, Nick, Joni, Donny, Jeffrey, Griffin and Megan, Robert and Meagan, Jason and Rachel, Jason and Amy, Amy, Courtney and Doug, Loren and Erin, Ben, Thomas, Josh, Danny, Miranda, Arya, Robert, Jeremy, Nat and Renee, Andy and Beth, Daniel, Stefen, Robbie, Tracy, Nate and Kristen (Best wishes for the baby!), Brandon, Tara, Sarah, Sara, Sarah, Lisa, Melissa, Brooke, Debra, Art, Sachi, Willie, Annie, Holly, Ali, Todd, Taud, Mikey, Adrienne, Serena, and special shoutouts to my friends at PGC, the MAC, the Adrianna Hill Grand Ballroom, the Oregon Convention Center, the Crowne Plaza Hotel, and the teachers and alumni of Brookstone School, with whom Facebook has reconnected me after so many years. If I didn't mention you, I didn't mean to not mention you. I love you guys.
A most important thank you to Debbie and Tom Puhl, who have given me a second chance at life. From a certain perspective, it must seem pathetic that, at 27, I would lack the basic life skills needed to avoid the collapse I experienced this year. You didn't give up on me, though. You extended your home, your patience, and a sense of family to me. You renewed my sense of priority and purpose, helped me regain strength, and you maintained belief in me when no one else seemed to. I can't thank you enough.
And thank you America, for the opportunity that you represent, for the dream that you uphold, for the life you have given me, and more currently, for electing Barack Obama your 44th President. Whether or not you voted for him, whether or not you agree with him, I maintain a strong belief that together -- with our inherent national strengths, with our boundless ingenuity and determination, with a renewed spirit of cooperation and hope -- we can lift America out of its current troubles and propel it into a better future. As unlikely as that may seem, I hold the highest hopes for that, just I as I hold the same for myself (as unlikely as that may seem).
Love,
Chad