Kings of Leon: “Charmer”

Fun Fact: One of the characters in my book DROWNING performs at a strip club to this song. To better prepare myself in order to write it, I acted out the routine repetitively in front of mirrors. DROWNING will be available to purchase soon.

Building Blocks

The greatest lie we tell ourselves is that we are strong. Sure, we each make the definitive claim that we are capable of standing on our own, that we belong to no one else but ourselves. It’s funny how willingly we buy into cheap words and empty promises because all it takes to knock us off our feet is a single blow—just one single blow—to cause our perceived reality to crack. Then, memories of everything we had promised we wouldn’t let happen again start to seep in through the fractures of our perfect façade until we are demolished yet again. I don’t know why life is like that. I don’t know why it’s always the same story. Maybe it is life’s way of humbling us and reminding us that we aren’t invincible, that we don’t hold the upper hand. Now, we have to build ourselves back up—our ego, esteem, and faith are always in constant reconstruction. Some laugh, foolishly trying to eradicate the past and its effects. Each person or situation or period of time in their life is still within them. The mark has been left upon the blocks for which we are to rebuild. These marks will forever be there; we are forever scarred by the past. They are the very beams supporting the bruised ego we harbor. They will always remind us of our destruction. All we can do is to learn from these people and situations and trials in our lives. We must set to work. Life is nothing but a giant construction site. We build only to get demolished. And so, the pattern continues until the day comes when someone isn’t there to tear you down but to assist you. They have their tools, and they’re ready to help. That’s right. They make an appearance in your life to help. They will reinforce your foundation and your support beams—most importantly, yourself. They may be a friend or a stranger or even your soul-mate. We just have to believe they will help us make improvements. Blind trust is terrifying, but it’s the only way we learn to build character. 

Here’s a short story I wrote:

“Subterfuge Grocery”

Small town life was nothing like it was rumored to be. Sure, the eternal optimists tried to sugarcoat the fact that their lives were as boring as everyone else’s by labeling the monotonous and the mundane with “small town charm,” but that was like slapping lipstick on a pig and calling it a beauty queen. It was the same damn thing, the same damn people, and the same damn life around every same damn corner. Nothing was what it seemed; nothing was what people made it out to be. Ever. Sulfur Springs, Alabama, was no different from any other small town.

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From out of the blue, I just had an epiphany—very much so like the one that set me on course for my last novel, I AM. I’ve been tossing around ideas for what I’d like to do without progress. Now, everything has finally clicked into place and makes sense. I haven’t been able to commit myself to writing in what feels like an eternity, but now the thought of writing excites me again! While I AM is currently underway for potential publication, I’m more than happy to begin work (finally) on my third novel, which I’m calling “Doors With Locks That Matter.”

There are 3 tattoos that I really want:

(1) “we accept the love we think we deserve” right above my heart

(2) a small compass with 4 points on the side of my foot with “not all those who wander are lost”

(3) a row boat on my rib cage with “so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past”

Will I get these tattoos? Probably not. But I am determined to get a tattoo if I’m published. It’ll be the symbol for the phoenix bird with the quote, “I am; I will be.”

I’m relaunching my I AM project with this new video I recorded. WARNING: I’m a huge dork, so keep that in mind while watching.Also, I have a beard now and I blink a lot.  I make a special shout out to: Audrey, Mimi, James, & Adriana/Addy

Do you want to see me have a complete emotional breakdown on video? Well, here it is. It was the first episode in a web series I intended to do. Followers sent me emails to matthew@matthewdalehubbard.com, and I responded. I was doing this video in one take. No editing. No reshoots. No effects. It’s real and raw; I couldn’t handle my emotions at the end. Side Note: I come across as awkward as Kristen Stewart in this video. 

Drowning

I’m drowning. Forever lost to this sea of desperation. This rip-current-of-a-life pulling strong. Trying with all my might. Pushing against the definition of wrong. Fingers grasping for everything right. Submerged. In too deep. This rip-current-of-a-life pulling strong. Holding onto my last breath. Biding my time. This rip-current-of-a-life pulling strong. I’m drowning. Beginning to panic. Falling apart. Struggling. This rip-current-of-a-life pulling strong. Disorientation washes over me. Blindness consumes me. Sight swims gray. This-rip-current-of-a-life pulling strong. Can’t keep my head up. Holding bated breath. Giving it all I got. Heart aching. Soul desperately pleading. This rip-current-of-a-life pulling strong. Heart breaking. Soul frantically begging. This rip-current-of-a-life pulling strong. Time to give in. Letting go. Loosening my grasp. Sinking deeper. This rip-current-of-a-life pulling strong. I’m drowning. Mind clearing. Lungs emptying. I’m drowning. This rip-current-of-a-life pulling strong. Time has come. I’ve completely let go. Swallowed. I’m drowning.

………

……….

………..

…………

…………..

…………..

My head breaks the surface. Air slaps my face. No sense for the struggle. No use for the panic. A lesson well learned.

Don’t resist. Don’t defy. Just believe

Have faith. 

Everything. Will. Be. Okay.

I will be okay.

Epiphanies, Fear, and Holden Caulfield:

While I was driving, I started thinking about life:  I realized that as much as I wished there was not some greater force in the universe, that we were the master of our fate, that we determine our own future… I can no longer bring myself to believe my ignorant delusions because some things are simply out of our hands. 

At first, I exhaled a sigh of relief. My shoulders lightened as the burden of trying to control the uncontrollable lifted. Finally, I knew that I didn’t know. 

I didn’t know what the future held. I didn’t know what would happen to me. I didn’t know what my life would be like tomorrow or a week or a month or a year. I didn’t know if I would live up to the precedent I’d set for myself. I didn’t know if I would be somebody or a nobody or anyone at all. I didn’t know anything. 

Not knowing scared me terribly. 

The first thought that popped in my head? Holden Caulfield. 

I kept replaying his quote over and over in my head:

“Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all.  Thousands of little kids, and nobody’s around - nobody big, I mean - except me.  And I’m standing on the edge of some crazy cliff.  What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff - I mean if they’re running and they don’t look where they’re going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them.  That’s all I do all day.  I’d just be the catcher in the rye and all.  I know it’s crazy, but that’s the only thing I’d really like to be.”

I couldn’t help but agree with Holden. I wished I was there to protect the innocence. I wished I could protect those who didn’t know what was coming. I wished I was the catcher in the rye. 

For some reason, this scared me even more so. I started crying, and it grew difficult to breathe. I bled emotions; they started pouring forth from the expertly bottled-up depths of my soul. 

I don’t have a point in sharing this. I wished I did though. If only a profane meaning shone gloriously from my epiphanies and fears and tears; however, there isn’t one. There rarely is a defining moment of gloriousness. 

Most of the time, there is only truth. 

And the truth is, I wished I was the catcher in the rye. 

Today, I started writing again.
I don’t know if this will turn into anything, but I thought I’d share:

The thought of clearing his desk and packing the last three years of his hard work into a box crossed Pressley’s mind everyday as the boss smiled a patronizing smile and cast off work into his inbox. The gentle whisper of the paper settling roared in his ears. With each deafening, monotonous hush of pages, his agitation thickened. Some unknown force from the depths of his soul yearned for him to say something, anything.

And he always did. 

He’d say, “I’ll get right on that, sir. Have a good day, sir. Thank you, sir.”

He had to remind himself to be patient, that determination would pay off. His every day was taken with a grain of salt. The promotion would happen; he just knew it without a doubt. However, he occasionally gave himself some slack and gleefully muttered, “Screw you, sir,” underneath his breath whenever the boss was out of earshot. 

That was his life—an under-the-breath insult when no one was listening.

And Pressley’s life was consumed by gray, but not just any shade of gray. Hell was fenced in by slate gray walls. The cubicle slowly closed in on him, always pressing down but not yet crushing his soul. He embraced these walls as one would a lover: meeting their scrutinizing gaze, noting their sleek stature standing an inch below his height, leaving them quietly in the dead of night after moonlight tip-toed in through the skylights with a kiss of goodnight.

Here’s the next webisode of my I AM project. I discuss the importance of self-discovery, love, and the perks of being Life’s wallflower. If living in a fictional world where I believe there is hope for love, sincerity, and genuineness is wrong, then I don’t want to be right; I’ll just keep reading books and keep the hope alive that I’ll find someone as delusional as I am.

It has been a year since I’ve been in the fictional town of Sulfur Springs, Alabama. I wonder what my characters have been up to and how they have changed; I know I have changed incredibly so. Today, I am packing my luggage and making a return to the world I recreated. Today, I start work on my sequel. Finally.   

I AM-ep. 02

Hey, everyone. Here’s the next webisode of my “I AM project.” I discuss books, John Green’s Paper Towns, music, things that make me weird, viewers’ responses, and my recent experience with a mean ol’ bully. “As we let our light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.”

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