Posts Tagged ‘Despair’

Human existence is one of those entities I find so mysterious and utterly intriguing.  Everyone is so different yet at the same time so alike.  I just don’t understand anything about the world around me most of the time and as I get older care less to know.  It seems the more I try to figure out whats going on the more lost and frustrated I become.  Instead I try and go along for the ride and see how life unfolds around me acting and reacting accordingly.

That is exactly what I decided to do that faithful Thursday evening back in October and where we last left off a little over a week ago.  Camus wrote a very intriguing short story entitled The Stranger about a wrongfully accused and convicted man the night before his scheduled execution.  The whole premise of the story is him coming to terms with excepting the fact that he is powerless in his situation to alter his fate and that he is going to die.  Once this is realized he becomes rather at ease.

As I stood in front of my bathroom mirror, razor in hand, suit laid out on my bed that was just what went through my head.  I was prepared to except my fate no matter what the outcome may have been.  If I was to show up and meet Heather then I really had no control over what was going to happen.   In the end it was to be her call.  I needed it to be. I didn’t want to sell her on me, plea a case of why we should be together or persuade her to change her mind.  I wanted her to either want to be with me because she loved me and wanted to build a life with me or let it burn and we would move on with our lives separately.

No matter the outcome I was resolved to be strong for if she truly was happier without me then I would be happy for her.  It would be a bummer for me.  Such is life.  I had done everything I possibly could have.  The matter was finally out of my hands.  As I showed up at her door with me was my final poem to her, maybe the best one I have ever composed.  I coupled it with an orchid, the highest most sophisticated flower a man should ever give a woman and not one to be gifted nonchalantly.

This poem I planned to read to her personally from my heart with my voice.  That was just what I did.  She cried, we hugged and then we went to dinner.  I took her to this mellow little spot on Carrillo St., Roy’s.  The food is pretty average but the atmosphere is very inviting and rather intimate making it a perfect date spot.  Price wise it wont break your bank (by Santa Barbara standards) and they have a rather decent wine list.  It seemed like the perfect place for what was to take place.

I must admit I was really nervous, more so then I had ever been.  It took all my self control to keep from shaking at times.  Our conversation and interaction was palatable to give me some hope, although my instincts told me the out come would be not all I was hoping for.  I presented my thoughts and feelings.  When I concluded she handed me a letter.  I took it and put it in the breast pocket of my jacket to read at a later time.

She said she still needed more time, maybe till January or longer to sort things out.  This was the answer I was expecting.  At first I lost my composure.  I kind of feel like anyone with a heart would have.  I got a little defensive and a bit on the angry side.  The whole idea seemed prosperous to me.  We had only been together seven months and nothing catastrophic had passed between us that would warrant such a break.

The explanation was she needed to time to regroup and take her life back.  I told her we should make the most out of the night if it was to potentially be our last night together.  “Let’s pass this night together as lovers and then walk away in the morning as distant acquaintances”.    We enjoyed our meal.  There was some heavy emotion on both sides as can be expected of such.  Afterward I took her down to the beach.  I had gotten a bottle of champagne, one of my favorites and decided to blow my sax for her a bit.  Heather had never heard me play before.

My music is a very personal thing for me and ever since I got out of doing it for a living I tend to keep my performances few and far between.  When I do play, especially these days it’s in rather obscure instances, such as out on the beach at 12 am.  The air had a cold nip in it that night.  I wrapped her in blankets and played a few of my favorite standards and one of my own.  I do believe it had quite an effect over her.

The rest of the night and early morning passed slowly although not slow enough.  As I laid there in bed and she was sleeping on my chest I wished I had the power to stop time.  That I could stay in that moment forever.  It is not in the power of man to do such things nor would it be poignant to.  Time most move on.  Right before I closed my eyes I accepted this and knew that no matter what happened from there that I would always have that moment in my heart forever.  If I could remember the shrouded felicity that passed between us, then I could always look back on the time spent with her in a positive manner.

The next morning I watched her walk out of my life, possibly forever.  The plan was to meet at a certain location at a certain time on New Years Day if either of us felt so inclined.  Until then there was to be no contact.  If we were going to take a break it had to be a real break this time.   I stood in the doorway of my apartment and listened till I could no longer hear her footsteps on the pavement.  A sense of melancholy set in.  Sure, there was always New Years, but the reality was it was not a reality at all, but a fantasy to help deal with the pain.

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This was a giant wave pre-storm surge in Cape May, NJ at a spot called Poverty’s which can be a really fun shore break barrel on a strong Nor’Easter. Looks like it bit off a more then it chew here.

I woke up this morning, my little toe was three shades of purple and looking rather infected.  Surfing was out for me, probably for a few days, yet this was the least of my concerns.  All that was on my mind for the last two days has been the absolute destruction and devastation to my home town of Manasquan, New Jersey courtesy of Hurricane Sandy.  As much as I hate New Jersey and it’s seemingly reciprocal feelings towards me to see what has become of it has been rather heart breaking.

Then I consider all of my friends and family back there and what they must be going through actually having to live in what has seemingly become a third world country. I was on the phone with my sister last night who evacuated to Pennsylvania with her husband.  They went back up to Manasquan and basically found out that more then four feet of water had filled the first floor of one of our family homes.  The cats although a bit freaked out were safe.  Most of the furniture was destroyed, the wood floors, the carpets, the appliances, three cars all ruined.  At this point power is estimated to be out anywhere from 8-10 days and there is the possibility that the drinking water is no good.

I fielded a call from Kooky Kyle later in the evening who is scalping generators, batteries and other survival apparel, currently making a small fortune.  He is doing a good deed as well even if it comes at a cost premium to those in need. Supply and demand is the American way after all.  In his defense he called me to see if my family needed anything from him.  My parents are currently in Florida.  At the moment they are planning on staying at their home there till things get a little more stable in New Jersey.

This was once a street in the beach area of Manasquan…

At the moment it looks like Bosnia over there minus the civil unrest, although I have heard rampant looting has broken out at the shore causing residents to have to show proof of residence to even get to their own homes now.  My parent’s beach house in Manasquan as of right now we have not a clue.  From the few pictures and the little bit I have heard things are pretty bad up there with most parts of the island buried in anywhere from 8-20 feet of sand.  Their house sits on the narrowest part of the island and on an estuary that floods around the house on a regular full moon storm high tide.

The house with the brick steps that are all torn up used to be rented by a friend of mine when I was 16. I used to store a board and wettie over there so that whenever my mom would punish me and not let me surf I would tell her I had to stay after school for something, ride my bike to his house and go surf.

One can only assume the house took it on the chin pretty bad. It was built on a floating foundation to begin with.   At the moment access to the island is very limited and from what I hear just about not drive-able with out heavy equipment.  Some of the bridges are completely blocked by boats and debris.  I had a quiver of surfboards in the crawl space of that house.  Let me stress the word “had”.  My entire family is safe and from what I know all of my close friends as well and in the end that is all that matters anyway.

This is the Brielle Road draw bridge looking rather inaccessible.

Things are heavy over there to say the least.  It was not only my town that took things tough.  From video it looks like Long Beach Island was ravished, parts of it still under water.  Casino Pier in Seaside Heights has been just about entirely washed away.  What was once a venue of rides and amusements, not to mention one of the top surf spots in NJ has been reduced to a pile of sticks and rebar.  The Ocean Grove pier another surf spot I frequented is gone as well.  I sit here writing this at a loss.  Part of me wishes I was home attempting some help to those in need.  Then again I don’t live there anymore.

The remnants of the once grand Casino Pier, Seaside Heights, New Jersey. Yes that is a roller coaster in the ocean.

I suppose my heart will always be in New Jersey no matter how much I try to deny it and be Californian.  Its Halloween here today and everyone is getting hammered in costume yet again for about the eighth straight night in a row. With the exception of my few friends here from New Jersey not a single person even mentioned if things were all good back home to me.  Its 3000 miles away on a completely different coast so who cares right?  Well whenever there is a fire or earthquake here I get calls from most of my loved ones back in NJ to see if all is ok here.  Hey to each their own.  As for me at the moment I don’t feel very much like partying.

I wish all my friends and readers in New Jersey the best of luck.  Hang in there guys one thing about Jersey people we don’t take shit from anyone or anything.  I know you guys will rebuild bigger, better and stronger then ever.  To my surfing friends out there; We may have lost a few spots but I bet when things clear we most likely gained a few as well. The red cross has set up a relief effort fund for the havoc that has been unleashed on the Jersey shore.  If you feel so inclined every bit helps https://www.redcross.org/donate/index.jsp?donateStep=2&itemId=prod10002.

The closest house with the first floor buried in sand was the residence of my boy Cory and his girl Tagan. Hey guys if you need a break from all the bull you are always welcome here at the Lisanti Palace. Heck the Palace would not be in my possession if it was not for Cory.

*all photos borrowed from various internet sources.  For more pictures of the damage to Manasquan use this link: http://photos.nj.com/star-ledger/2012/10/devastation_along_manasquan_be_24.html

For pictures of the damage done to Point Pleasant, NJ use this link: http://nickjonesphoto.com/sandy.html

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As everyone knows I have been hurting a bit these days.  For a while I was puting all the pain into my novel, but as of late decided to take a step back from that project.  I was finding it hard to get pages finished.  A writer friend of mine told me I should leave it alone for a bit and then come back to it.  About three nights ago I was feeling rather depressed.  It happens to the best of us.  I don’t really know what happen next.  This Stanley Jordan song came up on my ipod’s shuffle and the words started to flow.  I have not written a short story in some time.  Maybe it is a pre-amble to something greater.  All I can say is putting it on paper really helped me to clear my head.  I don’t know if its any good, probably just a string of incoherent garbage.  You can be the judge.  I have not had too much writing on here as of late so I figured I would share something different as an apology for that.  Enjoy.

The Bitter End

 He heard the angry clacking of her heels on the sidewalk. The sound slowly got more faint as she walked off into the distance.  Why did she leave?  Why did he let her?  Why was he not the one to leave her?  Why had his heart just sunk into his chest leaving him feeling weak?  “You have so much potential, but I can’t sit here and watch you destroy yourself any longer.”

Those were the words that stuck with Joe. “I don’t love you anymore, I never really did”.  He did not say a word to that.  To any of it for that matter.  He just sat there and listened.  It was almost as if he was not there, but floating above the whole scene.  All the screaming, arguing and the crying.  He did not even feel the pain or blood slowly trickling down the knuckles of his steadily swelling hand.

No, all he could think about was the fact that he would never see her again, never smell her hair next to him when he woke up in the morning, never experience the warmth of her naked body pressed up against his after being satiated by the heat of the passion they once had for each other.  It was over, really over this time.  Not like all the others when she had walked out and came back a few hours or a day or two later.  He did not know for sure, but was almost certain.

There is this extra sensory that couples develop for one another after a sufficient amount of time passes.  They can just sense the thoughts and emotions of the other.  That is one of the remarkable mysteries of love.  He had pushed her limits too far this time.  Joe knew it.

She had loved him once he thought, even if she said otherwise.  Why is it when two lovers split up they always have to say the most hurtful things.  She had to love him once right?  Why else would she have stayed with him for all those years?  She was there when he was on top of the world and when it all came crashing down.  She nursed him back to health when he was bed ridden with an unknown illness.  She always put his needs first.

She had to have loved him at least once.  Maybe she still did.  He would never know now.  She would not come back.  He knew that.  And he would not go after her.  There he sat paralyzed on the dirty front porch of his apartment, their apartment at one time.  He did not care that the dirt would soil and possibly ruin the designer beige and cream pinstripe suit he had tailored for him.  He did not care about the fact that his hand was broken or the subsequent hole in the wall.

She would not come back.  One tear fell from his right eye.  Just one.  The tin man finally got his heart.  She never really knew how he felt for her.  He was never able to express it.  He thought at times his actions may have shown it.  What did that matter now? Water under the bridge.  She would not come back. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

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Well this morning we have a very special UCB for all you little kiddies out there in cyber world.  John Mauriello wins this week or I guess it really should have been last week, but I dont really give a fuck cause its my shitty ass blog and I will do what I want to.  Anyway he asked about my new found passion for lurking.  Sure he posted it about a month ago, but it was very appropriate to the situation.  If this is a bit incoherent it is because I have a little bit of the bad medicine in me (rum).

I think first off I will start with the dictionary meaning for lurking and it reads as such: ” to lie or wait in concealment, as a person in ambush; remain in or around a place secretly or furtively”.  If that is what dictionary lurking is let me explain what Lisanti lurking is. Its really grand and super classy.  It also follows the same principles as the above definition.

Lurking is the derogatory name I deem to going out to the bar, club, party or any place for that matter with the sole purpose to pick up a chick and fuck her.  After which you will never see her again and most likely never even have gotten her name.  Don’t you know that is the best way to interact with your fellow humans of the opposite sex, especially ones you should be looking to pair up with and spend the rest of your life with.  At least in the animal kingdom the male just flat out rapes the female and gets it over with.

No, as humans we find ourselves more then superior to our four legged foes.  Instead we use our cunning intelligence to out smart the female using a combination of looks, intelligence and of course alcohol to achieve such desired results.  In all respect the female does the same.  Fuck she is probably a more ruthless predator then a man.  At least men are for the most part obvious about their intentions.  Women on the other hand act all innocent, nice and decent.  Then once you give them your heart they turn around and fuck you over.  That is because every last one of them is nothing more then a filthy stinking whore.  Fellow males out there if you have a girlfriend, fiance,  or wife and think she is happy guess again.  If she has not fucked some guy behind your back yet, well she probably will later.  Especially if you treat her well.

Here is how a lurk works.  I get dressed up in my best cloths and I go out to the bar.  Immediately upon entering I case the place out to see what talent lies with in.  Then I figure out the game plan that will work best for me to prey on some unsuspecting female counter part.  End goal: to get her back to my place where I can hopefully objectify her by fucking the shit out her all night with out ever getting her name or caring to learn a thing about her. If I can get her out of my house in time for a mid day surf  and never see or hear from her again even better.

How is that achieved, by saying and doing whatever it takes to make it happen.  Your kind of a con-artist.  If you have a good wing man then you most likely have an entire repertoire down.  It is like when lions hunt they pick out the weakest zebra in the heard coax it out and then nab it.  When you lurk you find your mark and basically do the same with out the eating alive part, unless your some kind of psycho killer.

Yeah I claim to be a gentleman, but I guess that is a load of bull shit!  I’m just a mother fucking scum bag like every one else out there trying to get mine before it gets me.  Except there is one catch I don’t lurk anymore.  I cant lurk anymore.  As a matter of fact it makes me nauseous even to think about such a thing.  I find that to be a funny fact because I used to thrive on such an act.

No, I think I’m fucking done.  I had my time and it passed.  I don’t want to lurk.  I don’t want to drink.  I don’t want to feel terrible anymore.  I’m tired and I wish my time here would end.  For some reason I cant die.  Believe me I have tried and wished, but here I am still breathing air.  I can not take my own life cause that would be too simple, but why cant I have peace?  Do I not deserve serenity.   I am exasperated with jumping through hoops.  Maybe I will just move up into the pacific northwest in the hills and become a recluse.

I have had everything I could ever have wanted in life already.  Then I lost it.  I don’t want anything else.  Why can’t you see how wrong this life is that you created for us.  I know your not happy. Stop lying to yourself and be what you always told me you were. My faith in humanity was small when I met you and now after it has diminished even more.  Fuck everyone.  I’m over  all of you and your shit.  Stop laughing at me cause its not funny.  It never has been.  While you laugh I cry.  Thats how its been my whole life.

What the fuck more do you want from me?  What more do I have to prove? How much more suffering should I have to endure?

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This morning I woke up on someone else’s couch, my new abode for the next few weeks.  Its funny that I started out here in Santa Barbara on the couch about four years ago.   Four weeks ago I thought I had it all.   I had a great job, a nice apartment, a steady job and a wonderful girlfriend whom I adored.  If you were to have told me then I was to wake up on my friend Lindsay’s couch this morning with just barely three hours of sleep and tear tracks on my cheek I would have laughed at you.

I’m not laughing anymore.  Things have been pretty slow here on SurfingRuinedMyLife.net and the little writing that has been published was down right depressing.  I promised at some point I would have an explanation of it all.  Now is as good of a time as any as I sit in my darkest hour huddled up in a ball of misery and despair.   I have a pulse, breathe air and have all signs of life yet I feel mostly dead.  I have become a zombie.  The world is going on all around me, but I am not a participant nor an observer.  I’m just there.

In retrospect I know I got what I deserved and the irony of how the shoe falls when it is worn on the other foot is archetypal.  Im so so sad right now, but at the same time I think it is great that I am not mad.  I spent my entire life suppressing the emotion of sadness exchanging it for pure anger.  The old Chris Lisanti in my current situation would have went crazy.   Last night I was faced with the hardest decision of my life and I can proudly and sincerely say that I took the high road.

My story begins twenty two months ago from this past Wednesday.  It was the fourth of July when I met this beautiful, smart, amazing women and fell in love.  I had promised myself that love was an emotion I would never let myself feel again after Sindia.  I fought those emotions for a few days, heck I did not even get her phone  number.  After a couple of days I decided I had to acquire another audience with this enchanting female.

I knew where she worked and after an entire day of mustering up the nerve to go find her I set off.   An hour long misdirected search later I found myself standing face to face with the woman of my dreams.  It was a rather awkward moment, but none the less she agreed to go out with me.  From that day on I pretty much saw her every night for nearly two years, some of the happiest of my life.  Sure we had our ups and downs, but that is how relationships are.  If it was always sunshine and roses it would not be real.

Things were going rather smoothly till this past January when I decided to go out on a drinking bender with a few friends while she was out of town.  I got smashed lost my debit card and made a drunken fool of myself as usual.  When she came home from her trip she asked me if I had went out.  My girl friend was not a big fan of the friends I went out with or my party life style.  Rather then being a man and admitting what I did, I denied it, full on knowing how important honesty was to her. I lied and made her feel bad for even asking me about it.

Turns out she had some inside information and knew the truth.  She eventually called me out on it and then asked me if I would never lie to her again.  I told her I could not promise such a feat.  I mean come on, that is crazy for anyone to promise.  It was at that moment that I began to take the steps necessary to become a more honest and noble person.  For her on the other hand, and I was oblivious to it, might I add, the relationship was over.   Of course she still let it drag on another three months hating me more and more everyday.

Finally in that interim she met someone else.  Someone more genuine, kinder and ultimately better then me for her.  Shocking I know, but its true.  I met the guy yesterday and he seemed like a really good guy.  Wait Im getting ahead of myself here.  About three weeks ago I finally realized just how angry my girl friend (now ex-girlfriend) had become of me.  She was literally repulsed by even the sight of me.  Why she did not just discard me back in January is beyond me, but one cannot put himself in another’s shoes and its not my place to judge another’s actions.

I decided to ask her what was going on just jokingly.  Turns out it was no joke.  At first I got angry and behaving completely immature yelled at her and told if she was over me then to move the fuck out.  A few hours later I came to my senses realizing how much I actually did love her and begged her to give me a second chance.  She conceded and I really thought we were on the right track, that was because I had no idea about the other guy.  Things slowly got better and I was feeling somewhat ok about our situation, although had high suspicions  that she was cheating on me.

The thing is that I trust my significant others 100%.  Im not a jealous person and it would not get me any where to be such.  After we had that talk I started to go over little facts and details in her life that all led to the fact she was having an affair.  Fast forward to just about two weeks ago.  She was about to leave for a trip to Ireland and it was eating me up inside to let her leave with out telling her how I felt.  I pretty much proposed to her with out a ring, despite my past preconceived notions and experiences with marriage.

She started crying and when I asked what she thought about all this she finally admitted there was another guy.  My world was shattered.  My first instinct was to freak out, yell, scream, break things and kick her out of my apartment.  That is surely what the old Chris Lisanti would have done.  Instead I took a deep breath ,collected my thoughts and told her that if she thought she would be happier with him then me, I wanted her to go to him.  I loved her enough that I would have rather seen her smile with someone else then spend another moment frowning with me.  She claimed she was confused and did not know.

Being she was leaving for Ireland anyway in about 48 hours the trip would be the perfect place to think things through.   I took her to the airport and kissed her good bye knowing it may have been the last time I would ever have such an opportunity.  I got home and decided to write her a three page love letter explaining all my deepest inner emotions, things I have not allowed myself to feel in years, things I have never wrote to another.  I sent that letter and  a dozen long stem roses to Ireland.  Not a cheap or logistically easy feat my friends.  My hope was it would warm her heart back to me and come off the plane running into my arms.

What actually happened was more what I believed to happen.  She got the flowers and letter and did not even mention it to me.  Instead I got a one line email telling me she was really tired and would talk to me when she got back to the US.  I was a little bummed to say the least but knew my girl and was sure that was the response I was going to get anyhow.  I still thought there was a glimmer of hope.  I went to air port, more flowers in hand, planned out her favorite breakfast in the morning (breakfast is her favorite meal).  I am talking fresh waffles topped with fresh blueberries, strawberries and mangoes, maple syrup, mimosas made with real French Champagne, none of that sparkling wine shit.

Well she got off the plane and could barely look me in the eye.  Turned a cheek to me when I went in for a kiss.  I should have ended it right there.  Instead I held on to the fantasy built up in my head and gave it another four days.  This brings us to last night.  I knew who the other guy was.  I had never met him before, but had heard enough about him to know it was some dude she played volleyball with.  She loves volley ball and for me to forbid her to not play because of him would have been liker her telling me not to surf.

By Thursday night I could not take the pain of her coldness towards me.  Everything I did would have made any other women melt in my arms or at least have the strength to end the relationship and put me out of my misery.  I decided to go down the volley ball courts and see her interaction with this guy for myself.  I walked from my apartment to the courts on east beach, three miles to get composure and think.  I got there and she barely even looked at me.  She spent the entire time making eyes at him, the eyes she used to give to me.  It was at that moment that I realized it was over.  I met the guy, shook his hand, even played a round on his team.

He is a really decent dude and completely deserving of her love.  That night we went home and I told her that I wanted her to go be with him.  Then I packed some stuff and moved out for the month.  We share the rent and neither of us could afford to buy the other out.  I had a few couches to sleep on and being the gentleman I bowed out and left.  I told her if she changed her mind all she would have to do is contact me and ask and I would take her back, wipe the slate clean and start again.  I know I was not always the most perfect boyfriend to her.

So that is where my story ends.  I sit here now on my friend Lindsay’s couch, incidentally the one whom I got myself into the initial turmoil back in January.  Basically I’m sleeping in the living room cooking her and her 19 year old roommate meals for my keep while my ex-girl friend is most likely blissfully enjoying guilt free times with her new lover.  Thats how it works sometimes.  On a side note, I was in the parking lot talking to a friend of mine on the phone when who should pull up into the parking lot, but volley ball man himself.

Turns out he lives in the building that I am staying for the month.  Think I’m exaggerating?  Folks I could not make up a better story if I tried.  The irony of all of this is as poetic as it comes.  Now if you don’t mind I have some crying to do.  Yeah you did not get blogs for nearly two weeks.  This is my story, my explanation and apology.  Don’t worry for me, I really have learned a ton about myself in the past few months and I know I will get through this pain and will be a better man for it.  I think I handled the entire as classy as ever.   Adam Bede would be proud.

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By now you have noticed there have not been any new blogs here or even surflog updates since Friday.  I would like to just plain blame it on laziness as usual, but that unfortunately is not the case.  Actually in a round about way laziness did help to cause my woes.  And as always surfing did help too.  I did not pull the name of this website out of hat people.  My mind is rather cloudy right now and emotionally Im hurting pretty bad.

Im caught in a rather ambiguous situation at the moment the result of which either way will mean a major life style change for yours truly.  Im not going to get into any details at the moment because like I said things are up in the air for the time being and I just need to stay positive and keep on keeping on.  All I can say is that your support and understanding in the matter of not having as much SurfingRuinedMyLife.net entertainment will be greatly appreciated.

I had this wonderful garden that I grew and enjoyed the fruits of for a long time.  Then I got really busy in my life and began to neglect this amazing garden of mine.  Except I did not  neglect it in the sense that I left it alone entirely.  Instead I kept picking all the fruit and vegetables, selfishly enjoying the yield without the toil.  With that kind of care it is not long before your garden begins to wither and die.

Being the oblivious bone head I normally am I came onto the problem a bit late.  Now Im putting 100% of my efforts into saving may garden, which I believe or hope still has some life in it yet and can be nourished back to its once beautiful self with lusciously flowing branches, crisp green leaves and the ripest vegetables in existence.  I think if I can save my garden it will be all the stronger from here on out and I know I for one will never let it get to the state of disrepair I have.  Im watering and trimming and toiling all with the aspirations of having back what once was and more.  At this point all I can do is wait and see.

Whatever the outcome one thing I can say for sure is that it has been a refreshingly humbling experience.  Despite how I portray my character Chris Lisanti is always in need of improvement.  Sometimes I improve very rapidly then all of a sudden regress.  Maybe that is natural for humans, I dont know.  This whole scenario has allowed me to do a ton of thinking about who I am, who I was and who eventually I want to be.  I know I have wrote all this before, but I really do want to be a great man, an honorable man.  I want to be looked up to for my good deeds and actions and not because I did a big air or got a deep barrel.  I dont want to be the man because I can chug a 40 oz and then wake up in a puddle of my own vomit in the morning.  Lastly I dont want to be recognized by the number of women I have had sex with.

So thats all I have to leave you with for now.  I promise as soon as my life has some concrete answers about which direction I am to head in you will be the first to know.  One thing I will promise is either way, however painful the reality may be I will persevere and  when all is said and done reinvent just the kind of person Chris Lisanti is.

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