The Experiment
A Memorial Day reflection on military service, political division, civic pride, and the strange loneliness of modern America. A veteran rides through northern New Mexico searching for community, meaning, remembrance, and perhaps a little hope that the American spirit still exists beneath the noise.
Remember The Fallen
Memorial Day is supposed to be about remembrance, sacrifice, and the men and women who never came home. A submarine veteran reflects on military service, fallen sailors, branch rivalry, and the growing disconnect between national sacrifice and modern American comfort.
Behavior Correction Plan
Motorcycle riding is equal parts freedom and survival. Between breathtaking New Mexico landscapes and drivers treating traffic laws like optional suggestions, I finally decided to start documenting the chaos with a full-on camera setup mounted to the bike. Expect beautiful scenery, questionable life choices, and a lot of screaming.
Necroptic Vision
Ever since the accident, people seem smaller to me. The ones I used to fear. The ones I thought were powerful. Maybe death changed my vision. Maybe I developed some kind of necroptic sight that lets me see through bravado and ego straight into the fragile little souls underneath.
Friendship Is the Front Edge of Romance
Friendship, for me, isn’t light. It’s not small talk or shared drinks or passing time. It’s standing at the edge of someone’s soul and choosing to stay. And that’s exactly why I can’t tell where friendship ends and romance begins.
Pain, But Progress
They fixed it. That’s the truth. Nerve endings waking back up, sensation returning to places that have been dead since October. That part is a win. But healing isn’t clean. It’s not gentle. It’s sharp, throbbing, and relentless. This is what progress actually feels like.
Cut, Stitch, Publish
On the same day I hand my face over to a surgeon’s knife, I’m waiting for something else to be born: my first book. One stitched back together. One finally set free. Either way, something changes today.
Proof of Life
Holy fuck. I just ordered proof copies of my book. It’s real now. One last push, one last pass, and it’s out in the world.
El Paso, Heat, and a Little Bit of Healing
Sometimes you don’t need to burn your life down. Sometimes you just need to ride far enough to remember who the hell you are.
Running South
I’m coming up on five months since the accident. Five fucking months. And just when I thought I was clawing my way back, life decided to remind me that sometimes the hardest hits don’t come from the road… they come from people.
Fire, Fracture, and the Finish Line
My book is so goddamned close. And So, She Rose didn’t come together in a straight line. It came together through death, through failure, through pain, and finally, through fire. Turns out, sometimes the ending of your story doesn’t come from inspiration… it comes from impact.
The Moment the Anger Leaves
There’s a strange moment after betrayal when the anger finally disappears. It’s the moment you realize the person who once held your heart no longer holds your gravity.
Defiance
Some betrayals can’t be spoken aloud. Not because they don’t matter, but because telling the full truth would burn more lives than it would heal. Tonight isn’t about revenge. Tonight is about defiance, integrity, and the quiet strength it takes to walk away while still protecting someone who never protected you.
A Night for Broken Hearts
Sometimes the deepest heartbreaks are the ones you can’t explain. The ones you have to carry quietly, because telling the truth would destroy someone else’s life. So you sit with the pain, question everything you thought you understood about love, and ask God why the tests never seem to end.
Memento Mori, Memento Vivere
I died three times in 2022. When I came back, I stopped fearing Death and started honoring it. The Reaper isn’t my enemy, he’s my reminder to live urgently, honestly, and without apology.
The Chosen
There’s a difference between faith and performance. Between humility and ego dressed up as revelation. I’ve stood close to death, and what I experienced wasn’t loud.
The Lonely Things I Choose
I get lonely sometimes. But I’ve also gotten ruthless about who gets access to me. When you build a life around riding, writing, and leading, you don’t have room for everyone, and that’s both the problem and the point.
I Am Not Reckless. I Am Deliberate.
There’s a difference between recklessness and deliberation. What people see is the decision. What they don’t see is the relentless internal trial that led to it.
What the Hell Happened to Driving?
Traffic up to Los Alamos isn’t bad because there are more people. It’s bad because two or three drivers at the front of the pack have collectively decided that fifteen miles under the speed limit is a personality trait. And somewhere between horsepower and hesitation, we lost something.