Justin Razor and the World

Sometimes Im forced by circumstance to halt and take stock or what my life has become, the beneficial turn it has taken through all the innumerable growing pains Ive endured. Im sitting in a luxury hotel drinking imported iced tea, 3000 miles away from a home that hardly recognizes me anymore. A wanderer and adventurer betrothed to the Navy, this journey and all of its trappings were thrust upon me with such sudden surprise that a millenium of planning and preparation wouldve been impotent to help me meet the challenge. Louis Zamperini, after turning to Christ and surrending himself to our Lord and Savior, reflected upon all that he had endured and encountered. What he had initially believed to be arduous and fatal, an egregious attempt by the world to rob him of his life, dignity and sanity, had actually been a testament to the Love of God. Adrift in the ocean, aimlessly wading precariously above the jaws of death, he viewed his past experiences as perilous and anguished. However, w...

Classic rock blares through tired, worn speakers. They're blown out of course, as seems to be the requisite for every dive bar in the known world. Dens of sin and regret dotting the map of the globe like the pockmarks adorning their most devout denizens like badges. I love them. Nondescript treasuretroves of history, experience and hard won life. I read alot, indiscriminately voraciously, but let me tell you that the best advice and most readily applicable wisdom Ive ever received came from a 53 year old biker in Imperial Beach called Teddy, rather than the hovels of stiff intolerance and willful ignorance occupied by some staunch, ancient academic breathing shallowly as to not waste the precious few breaths they have remaining. Maybe its my age, but I find I prefer the women more as well. Nights like the last prove and reinforce to me the rapidly declining quality of girls from 18-22 (except for you Bonnie, if youre reading this. You know that youre different beautiful). But the 2...

I circumvented the island today, hugging the outside perimeter. It was astonishingly gorgeous, although I suppose thats to be expected. The weather was overcast and dreary, but in me this invokes a nostalgic feeling. It's the same ambience that clings to the Bay, and whenever I encounter it Im instantly transported back to day long excursions with my family. My Uncle, fastidious as he is towards work, calling in sick to take us to the San Francisco Zoo, then treating us to thick, greasy slices of pizza after. Even at 12, he deserves the Legion Of Merit for shouldering my portion of the bill that day. My Father, inoculating me through the hidden secrets of The City, known only to those who have become intimately acquainted with the locals and the soul of the metropolis itself. We went to Treasure Island, the old Coast Guard installation, and he wove treatises and lessons gleaned during his time in the Air Force. For a young man who believed the world had no place for him, these stor...

When I was 19, fresh out of my first real relationship and enduring my opening brush with heartbreak, I felt disenfranchised. Life was a grind, and I loathed rolling out of bed in the morning. I worked a job I could scarcely endure, lazed about in college lacking a focused purpose, and was generally depressed. That pain, the searing of which felt so insurmountable at the time, became the catalyst for my entire being as an older man. I thank God profusely for it every time I feel overwhelmed and unsatisfied with my station or place in this world, with the course He is guiding me down. Writing this in the Hawaiiam breeze, shade indolently guarding my windscarred skin, I feel at ease. I find my current working conditions stifling and claustrophobic, signaling that a change is definitely in order once complete control of my life is relinquished back to me by the military. I long to drive in one direction forever, unhindered by barbed wire fences, access gates and the constant presence of t...

The body rebels in the mornings, ironically exerting more effort towards laziness and immobility then will ever be required during your light, pre-dawn workout. The joints are stiff and rusty, making you feel like you exist in only 2 dimensions. Your head is foggy, your vision compromised and sense of balance askew. Undeterred, you lumber like Frankenstein's Monster to your sink and turn the handle, grinning as the mechanics of the system creak to life in the limbo of awakening, just like you. In a moment, you feel warm, pleasantly scalding water coat your face, stirring you into being, forcibly returning some sense to your weary self. Your mind, best friend, most essential tool, and hated enemy, peppers you with verbal jabs, but you deftly perry them with the ease of the experienced. "Your bed looks soft and inviting.", he whispers enticingly. "Yet, my floor is annoyingly absent sweat.", you reply curtly, a grin appearing in defiance of your own weakness. ...

My first was a bible verse, Philippians 4:13. Now as I write, I can see it peeking out under the sloping sleeve of my uniform. It winks at me sporadically throughout the day whenever my focus wavers or my confidence falters. Life is rife with pitfalls and potholes, yet with Christ, who strengthens me every moment of my life, from here to Heaven, I can achieve all. Others are spread rebelliously across both forearms, on the thick bellies and rippling tops. They were placed here for a reason, to tell the world to bring it on, essentially. After my anchors were completed, brandished proudly across the surface of my wrists, the bottoms poking out onto the beginnings of my hands, I read a study on the psychology of those who get tattooed in certain places, what their choices reflect about their hidden characteristics. Those who emblazon their forearms with ink are aggressive and confrontational in nature, unafraid of violence and eager to bleed. This could definitely define and describe me ...

Drifting through the world aimless and lacking direction is an existence I know too well. That's not to say that Im wasting my days away wantonly, drinking to excess and sacrificing half of them to excessive sleep. Libraries are slayed and fitness is pursued myopically. I meet new people and live the way a 25 year old bachelor is expected to. But isnt there more to strive for? As I sit here, another faceless denizen of an irrelevant bar, I take in the sights. Several groups of blue collar men and women huddle together in hermetically sealed cliques, loudly discussing gossip derived from stunted lives and unrealized potential. They argue over their favored teams in football, basketball, baseball, and hockey, strongly accentuating that "their" team is going to "do them proud". A business entity they have no tangible, financial part or ownership of, no fiscal stake in. Grown men and women living vicariously through those men and women that had the courage, dedicat...

I love people watching. Always have. Movies out here cost a small fortune, but observing humanity in all of its diversity, good and bad, intelligence and idiocy, destroys the appeal of any modern, mainstream CGI dump. The large majority of the time I enjoy this distraction from the boredom and tedium inherent to daily life, Im solemnly and quietly disappointed. Even in paradise, obesity and sloth run rampant and unrestrained. Men the size of NFL Linebackers lacking both the talent and athleticism lumber along gradually, with one thick arm, biceps undulating in the baking heat and triceps dripping like country gravy from a fresh biscuit, draped protectively over the mammoth masquerading as their woman. Understand Im not speaking derisively of local Hawaiians from a racial standpoint. This cornucopia of disgusting failure is blind to ethnicity, infecting people of all colors, tourists and locals included indiscriminately. They saunter around jauntily, their eyes fixed perpetually on ...

I think, hidden deep down in the recessed caverns of their undivulged secrets, everybody has an obscure talent they'd commit murder to be paid and laid for. One of my childhood friends could roll a joint in about 10 seconds by his estimation, a skill that may earn him healthy dividends in our modern world of legalized cannibis. Another girl could draw literally anything and everything, whether it was placed right in front of her or sprang forth from her macabre imagination. Yet, due to lack of business acumen and an overgrown, overly sensitive heart, she never progressed past trading paintings and graphite portraits for pills and small amounts of pocket change. Myself, it should be evident what I do. This blog started as a pet project, a tangible medium for me to vent my pent up creative energy. I never had any aspirations for it to provide a living beyond wishful reveries. Now, Ill take it a bit more seriously. My astute readers, all 4 of you, will notice the 2 month absence. Alth...

Growing up the world was at my disposal. Privileged beyond mere love, my splendor was obscene. We werent rich, despire what I believed, blinded by childish naivety. My parents bled to bless me with affluence far beyond normality. This became so commonplace that from a young age I developed a taste for prosperity and decadence, evolving and maturing with me, growing from the gluttony of taste to the enigma of women, my personal favorite, and only vice. When I left home, I found myself stripped of all favor aside that from God. No longer could I rely on family and money to catapult me from danger or save me from the snapping jaws of deliverance. I was on my own. And aside from being in shape and book smart, I was woefully unprepared. Living anywhere, sans car, motorcycle, or even bike, is no life at all. Instead it is drudgery, a mundane, listless existence. You are reduced to the station of beggar, of perpetual hitchhiker. When, as I do, you live 45 minutes from friends, at the very l...

We bathed in luxury, earned by way of gambling and sweat, long days at sea and long nights on the felt. The mountains, shrouded in shadow and swallowing darkness, formed an imposing backdrop. Two outlaws on the run from the rules of life and the laws of creeping time, we drowned our hesitancy with emerging love and imbibed long lost innocence until we collapsed in each other's arms in a drunken stupor. We laughed defiantly in the face of rationality, stretching each moment into an eternity. Each passing day became a monument to our devotion, every steamy, raw session of carnal lovemaking a sacrifice at the altar of our love. Bonnie and Clyde. The news trickled over me at a leisurely pace initially. Raindrops from Heaven, dotting my cheeks like freckles, revealed themselves to be tears shed from my own glossed over eyes. The specks of water grew sharper with each passing second, the realization entering them and changing their consistency. Anger gave them blades, slicing me deeply...

At the age of 23, the male lion is ostracized from his group, his family. By way of lethal force, only if necessary, he is cast out by the Alpha, the overarching leader of the Pride. Others may ride the coattails of the strong, content in their complacency and secure in their mediocrity. But not the lion. Lonely, bitter, starving and alert, he is all too aware that he is completely self-reliant. Fear washes over him, a foreboding sense of unease at the calamity of his situation. But, nestled within the trepidation, is a priceless gem, buried underneath the turmoil and dread. It is the knowledge that one can only be truly free if unfettered by the chains of others. Enlivened by this new information, the lion strolls forward boldly, ready to meet his destiny head on, with roaring spirit, gnashing teeth and protruding claws. That lion is me. With the dissolution of my last relationship, my old enemy, loneliness, has reemerged. No longer will, in the throes of a nocturnal panic attack, I...

Friendships, like all things, are fickle and fleeting. It's said that the beauty of anything in this life is that it is not immortal and boundless, but is indeed bound by the incontrovertible laws of mortality. Romances, the lives of loved ones, even our connections with our closest friends have an expiration date. While this bit of knowledge does its part to shoulder the burden and temper the blow, it still, frankly, hurts when they reach their inevitable demise. I dont tolerate disrespect kindly. If you were someone Ive liked or trusted and enjoyed the company of in the past, I may bear it for a short while as I feel you out. Anyone that knows me well knows that I love to talk shit. One of my standards for friendship is that you have a thick skin, as I most certainly do. If youre offended by jabs at your sexuality or ridiculous insults, I have no patience for you. But, if after surviving my initial barrage, you inform me that you're proud a midget could do so well for himse...