Kim K is a proud momma.

Just when you think the pinnacle of Hollywood's (i use that very loosely, pardon the pun) vapidness has been reached, this fat-assed megalomaniac takes her selfishness to new heights.  I sat this morning trying to compile a list of people that have no regard for children and I could only come up with two: Taliban and Kim K.  The fact that I know this human's name pisses me off.  How many issues will this poor little girl have when she gets old enough to recognize that in every picture with her parents, you can only see her cropped-out left cheek.  Why are people so obsessed with asses?  I don't get it.  By almost no general consensus is she attractive.  She's like 10% of the person she was born as.  She's barely 5' tall and her ass looks like a rhino's...and that's not a compliment.  I'd rather have sex with an Ewok...or a blender.

Nobody does it better than rock.

Just use common sense.

Thanks for nothing history teacher.

If you don't know Brobible, you should. Check out my man David Covucci's work. Poignant stuff, ladies and gentlemen.

Most of the nonsense on Brobible won't win awards for its depth and fortitude into the human experience, but this, I have to say, is alarmingly relatable.  I've read tons of books on the human psyche, evolutionary behavior, sexual evolution, and I've never seen anything from this perspective.  It's a ballsy move, but a well thought one.  I'm not saying it's all right, but I will say that everyone has  had moments in life when they've wondered what it's all for...why they battle the marching ants of taillights in the morning and evening, the massive mortgages, the ever-increasing stuff that just accumulates that doesn't really make a difference in one's life.  What are the things that really matter?  What are the things that are ok to feel apathy toward?  Does it make you lazy or just acutely aware?  Im not sure, but I think it's pretty f'ing good...And, David is a cool mf, so read his stuff.

http://www.brobible.com/author/david-covucci/
(A link to all his stuff)

Again, I do not own any of this content.

http://www.brobible.com/life/article/in-defense-of-apathy/




By: David Covucci

When I was 12, my mother—upset with what she felt was a middling academic performance, especially when compared to my two all-star sisters—took me to a psychologist.

Alec Lebedun. Sometimes, if I asked, he would let me sit upright in his chair while he took a prone position on the couch. We met every Wednesday night, but not for long. After only the fourth or fifth session, mom told me I wasn’t going to be going back.

I thought I’d won. So, of course, I had to needle her. I asked her to tell me what the psychologist thought was wrong with me, knowing there couldn’t be a problem if I didn’t have to return.

“Nothing,” she said and I felt vindicated, but only in the moment before her voice turned angry. Harsher than anything I’d ever heard come out her mouth.

“You’re just lazy.”

She said is so bitterly. It stung.

But I kept getting B’s and C’s through middle school. What’s, I thought, the point of doing anything more than the bare minimum? If that is what is set as an acceptable achievement point, achieving it should be acceptable.

Not when you are me. Not me, David Covucci—I’m nothing special—but rather someone ‘blessed’ (I hate that word) with a level of intelligence that surpasses average, and other attributes, ones society thinks are both indicative of and essential to success. Because of what you’re given, you have to do more.

I don’t want to do more. I only want to do what’s necessary. Often times, I don’t even want to do that. Exerting any excess effort seems superfluous to me.

What do I like to do? I enjoy my couch at the end of the day. Everything else, I’m pretty apathetic to. Success. Family. Relationships. Mattering. None of it.

Why try at anything, really?

When I was 18, I joined my high school cross-country team. I wasn’t into running at all, but our lacrosse coach said that if we didn’t play a sport in the fall, we shouldn’t even think about stepping on his field come spring. He wanted us all to play football. I went the easier route. I ran. I turned out to be alright at it, thanks to having the long, lanky legs requisite for distance running. After one performance at some meet, at the next practice, my coach was running alongside me. He’d seen me train, do sprints, etc., and asked why I hadn’t passed a person ahead of me in the last 100 meters of the race. He felt I could.

I shrugged a response.

“You don’t want to win?”

“No, not really.”

“You’re saying to me you don’t see a person in front of you and immediately think, ‘I’m better than them. I can beat them?’”

I shrugged again. I shrug a lot.

I won a lot, too, back when I was younger. When I was 12 and 13 and 14, I was virtually unbeatable swimming. But victories didn’t come with some thrilling rush or any puff of pride. All winning really did was place untoward pressures on me. As someone who won, it was expected I keep winning. It’s a lot easier to lose. You can work less hard. Be less focused. Cede the silly notion that you are the best.

As I got older, no one began expecting anything of me again.

That was nice. When not as single person thinks you can succeed, it makes failure not at all awful to accept.

“Do you want to be a failure?” is the instant, reflexive, callous, mean retort I always get (it’s designed to hurt). It’s an acceptable response—that’s what everyone is thinking, so why not say it?—but, no, it doesn’t bother me. It bemuses me that a great number of people feel I should be some thriving one in seven billion, as opposed to what seems much more reasonable to me, just being one of seven billion.

Success is a form of abuse we’ve become conditioned to enjoy. It’s not my responsibility to perpetuate that perpetuation. And that strident belief that hard work will help you escape the modern subservience we’ve created for ourselves?

No. What if I want to escape another way? By not trying? The other option, the ‘right’ one, seems so Sisyphean to me. If I begin to put in nine hours, ten becomes expected. How is eight not enough? How are five days not okay? Really, how is it possible that all we do is create for each other more and more and more work?

It’s like we live in a world that breaks its own physics.

I don’t get how everyone thinks spinning their wheels faster than everyone else will solve anything. All I see is more spinning. More and more and more. To what end? Leave a mark? If you don’t, someone else will. So why bother?

It’s around the time in this rant that someone will mockingly ask if I have a girlfriend

Not in six years.

That was a long time ago. I don’t even know how to find one these days. I’m not going to be the guy who goes out to a bar to pick up girls. Never have been. I hate that conceit. Going out on a Friday or Saturday with the express intention of fucking someone else? Fucking awful. Why would you place upon yourself the same damn burden of expectations you endure every other day of the week? It’s no different. It’s the requirement to successfully complete a task and gain the plaudits of people you want to impress, be it your boss or your friends or yourself. Why would you want to succeed on the weekends? I’m forced by everyone else to try and do that all the time. I’m much happier drinking at home.

Plus, I’m not great at talking to people. Like when they ask me what I like.

“Uhh, nothing?”

Still, at my age–especially at my age–I’m starting to feel like I have to have someone to fit in. But these mechanisms we have now, facilitating the experience is harder than ever. I’m on Tinder and Hinge, but I can’t bring myself to look at either app but once every few weeks.

“That’s your problem,” people practically fall over themselves to tell me. “You gotta try harder for them to work.”

I guess I don’t care enough to work towards finding someone.

You’d think I can’t work at anything, but that’s not true. I can, when I have to. When it’s the best option. To me, it’s always about finding the path of least resistance.

Like my internship my junior year of college. I knew it had serious potential to lead to a job. And I really didn’t want to do the pre- and post-graduation career hunt, a situation so fraught with anxiety and dread. Instead, I got in early every day. Stayed late. Did more than what was asked of me. It was weird and uncomfortable—and yea, it felt alright. Before the summer was out, I was offered a job.

Out of school, I didn’t last long. It wasn’t a mere few weeks in before I was ready to quit. They wanted me to care. Not like, in the quality of my work, I already did that, but in the overall importance of the company itself and they work they were doing. Saying stuff like “we matter” and “this is important.”

Ugh.

It was the kind of company where if you fucked something up, you had to apologize. And not just apologize. You had to show remorse. My perpetual smirk didn’t sit well with them.

“Do you not give a shit?” adults screamed at me for the most minor of mistakes. The truth was I didn’t. I felt like I could do my job without caring. Same way I got through school without caring.

Once they knew that was my attitude, they ate me alive. When I was working by myself in San Francisco, when I once fucked up something, two different bosses flew cross country to chew me out.

Fun. All that did was inspire me to take things less seriously. If it’s all gonna end in bullshit no matter what…

Within two years, I was gone. My whole time working there, I was also involved in a long-distance, quasi-relationship with my college girlfriend. One where we were both holding on to each other while each actively looked for someone else. Pretty good stuff. But it was fine. We both hated each other. We both hated the situation. It wasn’t that hard to place all the blame on the other person.

Everyone kept asking me what the fuck I was doing. My sisters, my mother, my friends. They couldn’t—they said—fathom why someone would allow themselves to be involved in an experience that makes them unhappy (forgetting that is pretty much what everyone always does). The answer I never gave was the truth. Once you reach a status quo you are comfortable with, regardless of how uncomfortable it makes you, you go with.

You keep doing what it is that you are doing it, because doing it is all you know. Happy, sad, it doesn’t matter. It’s just the thing you do. Her and I, we knew how to keep doing that, whatever it was. Doing anything else was different. Exponentially hard.

It turned my life into a four year long malaise, which in retrospect is alright. Not much happens in your twenties, anyway. But now I find it impossible to associate love with anything other than that dragged down feeling.

So why bother, is sort of my attitude. I’m not subjecting myself to future pointless pain by abstaining now, and that’s a good thing. I think.

My next job, which began right around when that relationship ended, was lobbying for the real estate industry. Rental housing, to be precise. The work I did was and is the reason your rents keep going up. Terrible, but they paid. Except one summer, when my landlord hit me with a six percent increase. I asked for a commensurate raise.

No, my boss said.

I lost interest in all people in business after that. Fucked up world, right? So why care? I kept working for them. Finding something else was hard. And they paid well. I didn’t actually need that extra money.

Until I got this job. I took a pay cut when I came here. Obviously, blogging instead of lobbying. I knew it was gonna happen and was fine with it, but my boss was very accommodating, saying we could reevaluate my salary sooner rather than later. Around my one year anniversary, back in September, my father asked me if I’d gotten a raise yet.

“No,” I sheepishly told him.

“They refused?”

“No,” I confessed. I hadn’t asked. I made enough. I’d gotten shot down once before, albeit in another industry. It was enough to make me reticent. It would require asking someone to do something they might not necessarily want to do. I don’t want to make anyone do that, because I don’t want anyone to make me do that.

Lots of people in the world disagree with my sentiment. I sort of think maybe we’d all get along a little more if we all gave one less fuck. About everything. I stopped giving a shit about my own well-being a long while ago. I’m doing alright. It doesn’t hurt ya. And so what if I’m not gonna have a legacy or some shit. It won’t bother me if no one shows up to my funeral. I’ll be just fine being dead.

That sounds like a death wish. I don’t have one of those, I just have never particularly had a life wish. I like being alive. It’s fun and all. But I feel like since I didn’t ask to be here, I don’t need to act in accordance with the world around me, with the responsibilities of someone else’s construct from long ago.

I tried to use that argument once to justify not paying parking tickets.

“I didn’t agree to be part of the system that penalizes me for this.”

Of course, technically I did, by buying a car, but that wasn’t the argument I was trying to have.

“Well,” said the girl I was seeing at this time, and having this conversation with, who was not at all impressed with my cool, languorous disdain for like, society, man.

“What if everyone thought that way about everything? Wouldn’t everything fall apart? Wouldn’t the world collapse?”

Even if she’s right, I can’t think of a single thing that is anything less of my fucking problem. I am not here to keep this Earth spinning. It does that just fine on its own, and I’ve never seen it slow down, not even a bit, because I didn’t respond to an email I was “supposed to” at 10:45 p.m. on a Wednesday night.

Shit would suck, I guess, if society completely fell apart and like, humanity ended… I guess. I don’t really know. Neither do you. But it doesn’t matter what side of the argument you fall on. None of us is big enough to bring down whatever this churning mechanism is that we’ve created for ourselves. That’s the truth—that’s the truth—and since it is, I’d much rather live within it entirely on my own terms.

“You’re just lazy,” mother said to me some nineteen years ago.

Of course, I couldn’t leave it at that.

“What’s so wrong with being lazy?”

“You’re too smart to be lazy,” she said.

She was wrong. I hate to say it, but my mother’s wrong. I’m smart enough to know it doesn’t matter if I’m lazy or not.

Another trip that left me with a severe case of PADS.  For those of you that don't know, Post Alcohol Depression Syndrome is a bear.  Especially after nine days in Europe, three of those ending the trip at Oktoberfest.  Here are a few of the locales.  Enjoy. 

Prague at Dusk

 Neuschwanstein Castle, Bavaria

Church in Bavaria, the way it should be.

 German equivalent of the Capitol (Berlin)

 Brandenburg Gate, Berlin

Church in Berlin

Oktoberfest

This is not John Travolta

Belgium has a new Minister of Health.  Health.  They must teach "Healthy" in Belgium with irony.  

* (Former Belgian Minister of Health not pictured because he was eaten by the new Minister of Health)

If you don't find both the humor and the accuracy of this video, you're either more than likely loaded with prejudices, or you're just stupid.  Nonetheless, this is funny stuff.  Both of these videos were posted on Brobible.com so don't blame me.

Achievement is earned, not found.

I't not trying to be Confucius this morning, but I came across this article this morning from Business Insider that highlights the 7 Habits of People with Mental Toughness.  I found it perfect.  For me and my personality, reinventing my days to avoid the mundane are imperative.  I need that for my sanity.  I hope you find the rewards.

1. Always act as if you are in total control.

There's a saying often credited to Ignatius: "Pray as if God will take care of all; act as if all is up to you." (Cool quote.)

The same premise applies to luck. Many people feel luck has a lot to do with success or failure. If they succeed, luck favored them, and if they fail, luck was against them.

Most successful people do sense that good luck played some role in their success. But they don't wait for good luck or worry about bad luck. They act as if success or failure is completely within their control. If they succeed, they caused it. If they fail, they caused it.

By not wasting mental energy worrying about what might happen to you, you can put all your effort into making things happen. (And then if you get lucky, hey, you're even better off.)

You can't control luck, but you can definitely control you.

2. Put aside things you have no ability to affect.

Mental strength is like muscle strength — no one has an unlimited supply. So why waste your power on things you can't control?

For some people it's politics. For others it's family. For others it's global warming. Whatever it is, you care … and you want others to care.

Fine. Do what you can do: Vote. Lend a listening ear. Recycle and reduce your carbon footprint. Do what you can do. Be your own change — but don't try to make everyone else change.

(They won't.)

3. See the past as valuable training … and nothing more.

The past is valuable. Learn from your mistakes. Learn from the mistakes of others.

Then let it go.

Easier said than done? It depends on your perspective. When something bad happens to you, see it as an opportunity to learn something you didn't know. When another person makes a mistake, don't just learn from it — see it as an opportunity to be kind, forgiving, and understanding.

The past is just training; it doesn't define you. Think about what went wrong but only in terms of how you will make sure that next time you and the people around you know how to make sure it goes right.

4. Celebrate the success of others.

Many people — I guarantee you know at least a few — see success as a zero-sum game: There's only so much to go around. When someone else shines, they think that diminishes the light from their stars.

Resentment sucks up a massive amount of mental energy — energy better applied elsewhere.

When a friend does something awesome, that doesn't preclude you from doing something awesome. In fact where success is concerned, birds of a feather tend to flock together — so draw your unsuccessful friends even closer.

Don't resent awesomeness. Create and celebrate awesomeness, wherever you find it, and in time you'll find even more of it in yourself.

5. Never allow yourself to whine. (Or complain. Or criticize.)

Your words have power, especially over you. Whining about your problems always makes you feel worse, not better.

So if something is wrong, don't waste time complaining. Put that mental energy into making the situation better. (Unless you want to whine about it forever, eventually you'll have to make it better.)

So why waste time? Fix it now. Don't talk about what's wrong. Talk about how you'll make things better, even if that conversation is only with yourself.

And do the same with your friends or colleagues. Don't just serve as a shoulder they can cry on. Friends don't let friends whine; friends help friends make their lives better.

6. Focus only on impressing yourself.

No one likes you for your clothes, your car, your possessions, your title, or your accomplishments. Those are all "things." People may like your things — but that doesn't mean they like you.

(Sure, superficially they might seem to like you, but superficial is also insubstantial, and a relationship not based on substance is not a real relationship.)

Genuine relationships make you happier, and you'll form genuine relationships only when you stop trying to impress and start trying to just be yourself.

And you'll have a lot more mental energy to spend on the people who really do matter in your life.

7. Count your blessings.

Take a second every night before you turn out the light and, in that moment, quit worrying about what you don't have. Quit worrying about what others have that you don't.

Think about what you do have. You have a lot to be thankful for. Feels pretty good, doesn't it?

Feeling better about yourself is the best way of all to recharge your mental batteries.

Read more: http://www.inc.com/jeff-haden/7-habits-of-people-with-remarkable-mental-toughness.html#ixzz38rjylNg8

Don't wait...life won't

If you want something you've never had, be prepared to do something you've never done.  Sometimes it only takes a child to make you realize the important things in life.  Self-worth, self-awareness, someone to share life's ups and downs, and a motivating, challenging and rewarding career that represents something you love to do every day is truly what should inspire us.  To me, that's happiness.

Diary from Kilimanjaro

Flight from Atlanta through Amsterdam to Tanzania

The first flight was uneventful to Amsterdam. 7hours. I was shocked in Atlanta when I was able to take both of my two huge bags on the plane and didn't have to check them. When I got to Amsterdam, the security was like the Gestapo. They made me check. 9 more hours. We land in Tanzania and as we walk down the steps of our plane onto the Tarmac, we looked back and our plane was parked adjacent to a huge portion of tall grass one would picture growing in the savannah. There were scores of indigenous men as women pointing people in the right direction and they were all smiling and seemed genuinely happy to see me. I expected the temp to be hot and humid, but it was the opposite. It might have been the most pleasing and forgiving weather ive ever experienced. the smell of the air was so peculiar. I dont mean this distepectfully beause i loved it, but it smelled wild and virgin; it smelled like no one had breathed the air before me. We walked into the terminal and the building was architecturally beautiful. Large planks of soft wood, scarred by years of wear covered the floors and the roof was open air. It was breathtaking for any building, much less an airport. There were hundreds of people in this room, all waiting to get cleared through customs with their Tanzanian visas. It was organized and efficient and within minutes, we were grabbing our bags and heading outside. At least two dozen drivers and tour organizers had signs up with names that were indicative of nearly every part of the globe. I never realized how many people were drawn to this mountain. We found our driver and they were so polite and helpful. They said it would be an hour to the hotel. He was right. The landscape of Africa, at least what I saw of it in the dark was breathtaking. Seeing it for the first time was unlike anything I had ever experienced in my life. It was as if god had taken extra time creating this place. The trees, the grasslands, the leaves and flowers, the hills, the mountains all popped out at you like it was trying to get your attention. I sit writing this at four am and I can hardly contain the excitement of seeing this paradise when the sun reveals its beauty. The ride to our hotel was scary and erratic, filled with horn blowing and flashing lights. It was no different than riding in a cab in Jamaica, if you've ever been there. In fact, the people are similar in their habits. There are many motorcycles, people out walking, but I couldn't help but wonder what they were doing or where they were going at 10pm on a Thursday. Do they work? Are they homeless? It was sad and confusing. We finally made it into the city and after turning down a few alleys and side streets i began to get nervous about the location. There were tons of people out and not many of them looked to be doing positive things. A gang of men had started a large fire in a trash can less than a hundred yards from our hotel. we checked into the hotel and our room was much nicer than expected, but that's relative. The location, however, was a nightmare. There was a party going on next door at a house and lots of drinking and yelling. There was a dog there that must be weaning because it yelped all night. Literally. My internal clock was so out of whack, I began writing and this is what you got. Ill retire for now. I can't wait for my eyes to see Kilimanjaro tomorrow for the first time. I can't believe I'm here. Truly, a dream come true. 

Day 1

The morning came quick. I finally fell asleep and got about 45 min. The city was alive and moved with purpose. Kids had book bags, women carried greens and other produce in huge baskets on top of their heads, just as you've seen on tv. We got dressed and had breakfast and Chris went outside to shoot some photos of the hustling city. He started shooting a group of young boys across the street, about 10 of them. They were obviously very poor as some didn't even have shoes to cover their feet. He took many of them and they posed proudly, excited to share in our experience. I met him outside with a few of the candy bars I saved for our climb and handed them out. The ones that didn't get one begged for more. It was the most heart breaking thing one could imagine. We walked back inside just as our bus pulled into the hotel for our drive to Kilimanjaro. It was loaded w a driver and five guys, all of whom were among the friendliest people I had encountered. We loaded in and started our two hour drive to the mountain base. We drove around the market and words cant describe the level of congestion. cars going wrong ways, coming out of side streets, horns blowing, motorcycles with two year olds in school uniforms squeezing inches between cars at thirty mph. to survive that commute on daily basis is in itself, an accomplishment. As we drove through the streets and through the market of arusha, we began picking up more people until we had 15 total. The van was slammed and the Tanzanian people never stopped talking. the road was rolling hills on the way. i told the driver we needed to stop for a toilet break, since bathroom and restroom certainly didnt translate. when we did, i asked everyone to get out and inside the store where we stopped, i bought everyone a beer. Yes, even the driver. The group was elated and very thankful. "Asante" they kept saying to me, which is swahili for thank you. As we were leaving the adjacent store had a glass front and i noticed, of all things, jack daniels, on one of the shelves. I figured why not, so you know how the rest of that goes.

we finaly made it up the rural road to Machame base camp elevation:8200 ft. At this camp, there were people everywhere. Two huge log books chronicled every climber since jan 1 2013. People had come from everywhere and written a comment as a sort of prologue to their journey. While we were waiting, our porters gathered our non essentials, things we wouldn't need for trekking, and they started up the mountain. As you can imagine, these guys don't look powerful, but their level of strength and endurance is hard to comprehend. They carry 50 lbs bags on their heads while carrying two things of substance in their hands. For perspective, I had a 40lbs pack and At times, i struggled. I've never seen anything like it. The initial hike through the rain forest was the most dense foliage I've ever been through. There was a blanket of fog gripping the trees as far as you could see into the jungle. Mud layered the trails like chocolate frosting and your legs burned with each step up the relentless grade. The trails were never below a ~35 degrees. This was the case for 5 hours. My glutes and my hips were burning with each step. When we finally arrived at our first camp, it felt like heaven due to my lack of sleep and mental fatigue. the camp looked like tent city. There were at least 50 tents scattered throughout the camp. When we finally arrived at our campsite, we found our tents already set up and food and sterilized water being prepared. The level competence these porters have is something to behold. Because I had slept an hour the previous night, the day had taken its toll on me. By this time, I was exhausted. As dinner was being served, I could hardly stay awake to eat. I didn't want to disrespect them so I somehow finished and said "Asante" and retired for the night. It felt like midnight after the day i had but it was only 8pm. i literally cant remember a time when ive gone to bed that early. The night was incredibly cold and very windy. My tent mate, chris, made a bathroom break at midnight. he came back and regretfully said, can you believe it's only midnight. we have 7 more hours of this cold, at least. my response was, "that the best news you couldve ever given me." Thats how tired and worn out i was from the climb. we lose so much fluid throughout the day its imperative to say hydrated to avoid acute mountain sickness. Were all averaging between 4-7 liters daily. The night was Probably in the low 30's, with the wind whipping. This made my 230 am bathroom run precarious to say the least. Morning came and breakfast was amazing. The guys have a tent only for dining and cook three course meals. My respect for these guys is immeasurable. I don't know of one single American that would do that job, or even be physically capable ot doing it, much less while smiling and singing. It's refreshing and heartwarming. They love to teach their culture and way of life and speak of their family glowingly when asked. They had camp disassembled and on their heads and backs within minutes and started up the mountain headed for next camp.

The morning arrived like most. our waiter sets up a table for our hot tea and we eat a very good breakfast considering where we are and our limited resources. Every time i eat, i have an overwhelming sense of guilt that these men are carrying all of this equipment through an unforgiving terrain and up a grade that i can barely even climb. they make it look easy. i had always heard these stories of US soldiers and how challenging it is to fight an enemy like the Taliban in their terrain because they are so capable of traversing those mountains with ease. Well I understand that challenge now. In this terrain, I wouldn't stand a chance against these guys. The cook is very quiet and fittingly, the only one thats fat and doesnt carry anything. after breakfast, the level of speed at which camp is disassembled and relocated is something you simply have to see to believe and appreciate. Today was the most physically daunting and intimidating thing I've ever done in my life, but somehow, they assure me tomorrow is somehow worse. i consider myself a person in good to excellent health and conditioning and it was exhausting and mentally draining. The much-needed sleep the night before saved me. I seemed to tolerate the day easier than others. It was a very steep grade, around 50-60 degrees, and was the first time you could tell the oxygen was becoming scarce. Couple that with the intense terrain and unforgiving sun and you've got an intense day. We started at 9800ft and ended the day at 12400 ft. That took four hours and almost 6 miles of traversing. It's not that the climb is that tough physically. It's tiring, but very possible for nearly all ages. The requirements for mental toughness are far more limiting and intimidating. The shortness of breath, especially for those like me who don't spent time at altitude, can induce paranoia and anxiety at only the slightest symptoms. The key is to remain calm and pole pole (pronounced poley), slowly in Swahili. The less you know, or try to know, or assume you know, the better. The path all day was very rocky and narrow, with loose pebbles and gravel making each step a concerted effort and dedicated thought, which os frustrating and demoralizing. All day up we had the mountain on one side and thousands of feet down on the other. Being acrophobic, it was not my idea of fun. With each ascent to another lookout, the view became a better version than the one before. We had amazing views of Kilimanjaro's sister mountain, Mount Meru, all day as ascended. We were, for the first time, ascending into the clouds. Being above the clouds, seeing an ecosystem that is so foreign, so unique, so odd, was the closest thing to heaven I can imagine. It was peaceful, quiet and serene. It was exactly what I imagined when i read hemingway and hoped it would be when I decided to undergo this expedition. Everything seemed foreign. the plant life had so many unique adaptations to withstand the cold and harsh conditions.Most of these unusual plants are unique to Kilimanjaro. The mountain is so massive it has its own weather pattern and its fauna and animal life have selected for their own unique survival traits. Some of these plants and animals are found no where else in the world but Kilimanjaro. One of the plants closes like a fist at night to protect itself from the harsh cold, only to open again in the sun of the early morning. After midway through our trek, we could see the plateau that disguised camp on the other side. With each hour it inched closer and closer. Scale is so hard to comprehend on kilimanjaro because of the massive size. nothing can be put into perspective from a distance. you simply pick a point, put your head down and persevere until you reach it. Then repeat. It's mentally exhausting. The last 45 min were treacherous and depleted any bit of morale and energy we had left. After reaching the top, we could see down into the valley where tents were being assembled everywhere. I imagined that it would be a very social area at night as everyone was one step closer to the roof of Africa. When we reached camp, a hot lunch was prepared by our chef that consisted of fried chicken without flour, sautéed cabbage, and French fries. Chris and I said we can't remember a time when we've consumed more calories than we have over the past few days. And somehow, were always hungry. After lunch, we came back to our tent for a rest before we trek up the mountain, only to descend back to camp, for the sole purpose of climatization or altitude acclimation. I lie in my tent typing this on my phone and I can hear our porters always talking. They are a very social people, but take their work very seriously. Opportunities for income are so scarce and limited in tanzania due to the corrupt government, they take nothing for granted. I have seen our guide, the boss, austerely and with finger pointing, scold a couple of teenagers carrying our stuff. We caught them resting on a rock and sweating and Sam did not take kindly to that lack of effort. He told me that he has done all the jobs on the climb, including balancing gear on his head as a porter for five years, so he knows what it takes to be successful. He said he had no tolerance for laziness. I'm in awe of these people and their dedication and work ethic. Every American should be forced to see this alternate reality. The perspective this trip has brought me, on so many levels, I wouldn't trade for anything.

Like most mornings, Saturday came at sunrise. The smell of our tent is not what one would hope for. At this point, out scents unfortunately blend in with the wild. This is not a good thing. This morning is freezing. It's barely above zero. I slept in cold weather under armour sell, parka, and ski pants, and shivered all night. Also, I was so sore from yesterday's climb, i took my first 800mg ibuprofen. I feel a little less sore this morning. I can hear many people already up scurrying throughout camp; I'm sure it's all the porters and chefs preparing the day for us. We met a large group of Iranian Americans that are very nice. I made a friend named parvin. Parvin and her husband are doing well, but many others in the group are suffering severe AMS(acute mountain sickness), and have even vomiting and experiencing vertigo and migraines and feeling just generally terrible. This has caused them much delay. I feel for them. Our porters have constantly fed us more than I'm used to eating. I would assume I've eaten at least 4000 calories per day. They tell me that my appetite will completely disappear when we reach higher altitude, therefore, we need to stay ahead while we can. I trust them. This is our guide, sam's, third trip up Kilimanjaro this month. That alone is something beyond comprehension. I cannot tell you in words the physical demands this trip has placed on my body. there isnt much i havent put my body through, in fact, i am used to signing up for ridiculous events that test my mental and physical limits. This is different. We started our trek through an alpine desert with very little Vegetation. The grind is beginning to wear on everyone. We are hiking to lava tower, a vent created when Kilimanjaro erupted thousands of years ago. It's at 4600 meters, our highest and most grueling ascent yet. It took us four long and slow hours to reach the tower. Along the way, people were very sick due to the altitude. Nausea is the first sign. Well, nausea and headache. Fatigue at this point is disguised by torturing your body over the last few days so its hard to distinguish. I performed very well and I was pleased. Altitude is so unpredictable and when it comes, it grips you like a vice until you descend. After lava tower, we hiked two hours down through a valley that is labeled an alpine desert. this area contained the most unusual wildlife and fauna I have ever seen. This place is so isolated, the species of both plants and animals are something you would see imagined in the movies. We finally reached base camp about 330 and as we were nestled between two huge rock faces, over a thousand feet each on both sides. One of those sides was to be our path for tomorrow. We tried to eat as much as we could, but our appetites are waning, just as they said they would. For the third night in a row, we were in our tents sleeping by 730pm.

It's 207am and I'm wide awake. No one knows Insomnia until you're freezing cold, alone, thousands of miles away from anything familiar and fearing the most challenging physical demands of your life. I've got a bad cough that has my lungs congested and irritated, which makes me really nervous about summiting tomorrow night. Today at high altitude, i could feel deep breaths literally causing me pain due to the immense pressure. Physically, from an endurance and muscle standpoint, I could go for weeks more; there's plenty of food, plenty of sleep, except tonight, plenty of clean water and adequate clothing, so far. Mentally, however, I've never been challenged like this before. I've done more than most in my life to push my physical and mental limitations to their limits and I must tell you, tonight, I am close to my breaking point. I have a myriad of emotions: sadness, hopelessness, exhaustion, both mentally and physically, home sickness, anxiety, anticipation, excitement and sadly, fear of death. Sure, many people succeed; but this mountain also claims its stake as well. Nothing I can write would adequately describe my mental condition right now. It takes will beyond anything ive ever experienced to stay focused and positive. i didnt know what to expect, and although i knew it would be difficult, i didnt know it would try to break me and perhaps succeed.

As i type this, Chris is very sick. He has a stomach bug that is making rest impossible. I feel for him. I cannot imagine being demoralized physically in the mental state I'm in. It would be devastating. Im gonna try to sleep for a few hours, although it doesnt seem possible. over the last few days, all I've had is time. I've been thinking and reflecting on mistakes ive made and ways to right them. ive realized this is a good reminder of all the positive and hopeful things in my life. It made me think of a phrase recited by Navy Seals in BUDS training: "The only easy day is yesterday." Tomorrow, I will attempt to live that mantra. When we woke up, our guide told us to eat well as today would be the hardest we'd seen yet. Great. Today were tackling barranco wall. A rock face nearly straight up for about two hours with no ropes. Standing at the bottom it looked like it would take All day. At several points, you're holding on to a rock and stepping across a hundred foot drop that would certainly kill you, or at least make you wish you were dead. We all were very careful and precise. After about an hour or so, we crested. The rest of the day was intense with 70 degree grades the entire way. It was completely demoralizing. Around lunch time, we stopped for lunch. Me and one other person were the only two that ate. Altitude was starting to set into everyone. The overall morale was very low. no one had much hope. its amazing what being deprived of oxygen is capable of doing to your body. The day was about 7 hours of hiking and the last huge grade of the day led into base camp for the summit. It was about 4pm. The last hill killed me. I was so low on oxygen I could hardly breathe. Everyone in the group felt terrible. When I got to camp, I couldn't even move. I was gasping for air and vomiting. They said you either get ams or you don't. It was obvious I did. Chris, who was sick all night before, seemed unchanged. He had been sick all day. We got to camp and the only thing you could think of or concentrate on was sleep. The plan was to sleep and wake up to eat dinner and then again at midnight to begin the summit. I skipped dinner. I felt as close to death as I've ever felt. I had bad mountain sickness ad lucky for me, whatever Chris had the night before had made its way over to me. It was like having the worst virus of your life, but not being able to breathe. It was truly indescribable. I kept trying to muster the energy to do anything and no matter what, it was exhausting. At dinner, I couldn't dream of eating so I slept. At midnight, when we were awakened, it was literally more tiring than running a half marathon just tying your shoes. No joke. We were moving like turtles. It was below zero, dark and we were all sick. All of us. Everyone was throwing up all over the camp. Chris, seemed to be the best of all of us, but that was marginal. As we started our ascent, I would move about 50 feet and be forced to rest for five min as I literally gasped for air. I felt zero acclimation. The minimal time we had spent at 4600m simply did nothing to help us. We moved slowly through the night. Each step was literally a conscious effort and thought. I'm not joking when I say this, but I was sicker and more miserable than I had ever been in my life. It made having appendicitis seem like a walk in the park. The only thing you could do is not look up and count your steps. More and more the altitude began to take its grip on me. After three steps I would be forced to sit down As I gasped for air to stop my rapid breathing. At one point, it was so bad I dropped to my knees and rolled to my back. My chest was rising and falling like I had been sprinting. I was so sick I couldn't think of anything else. I had never been lower in my life. My guide would whisper to me, "200 more meters." I would stand back up, which literally took my breath and start walking again, only to repeat this painful process all over again. Deep breaths were impossible. Oxygen was so scarce I couldn't talk. Mountain sickness is a weird condition. It hits some, me, like a train and others, seem unphased. I saw no one unphased by this mountain. I just saw some tolerate it. I was not one of those people. I had been hiking three hours when my guide told me it would be at least 5 more. I knew at that moment the mountain had beaten me. The ironic thing about it was I was ok with it. I literally felt so close to death, I couldn't rationalize another five hours. I was somewhere around 5300meters of 5900 meters, so close to the roof of Africa when I waved the white flag and succumbed to the sickness, the virus, the hypoxia, and the cold. I could literally see the glacier less than 200 meters away. I stood there on the side of the mountain thinking about all the things my life and the clarity this trip had provided me. I stood there for five minutes, literally gasping for each breath, and my guide didn't say a word. He knew. We both did. It was as if he knew what I was thinking. It was one of those moments people describe when having a near death experience. Everything becomes quiet and acute. Your breath is the only ambient noise. I stood there at nearly 18000 feet and stared at this massive geological obstacle that had been the object of my desires and thoughts for so long. I stood there, staring up at it, an in a moment of sheer certainty and not one ounce of regret I said to Sam, "trende." (Let's go in Swahili). He never said a word to me. He just turned, threw his arm around me and started walking. Unfortunately for me, my night was just beginning. You could see the hint of sunrise over the horizon. I barely made it back to camp. There is no way I could've continued as sick as I was for 6 more hours and then down. When I finally made it to camp, I had never been sicker. I had a high fever, with shivering and sweating all night. I vomited all night long, among other things and I can say without equivocation, it was the closest I've ever felt to dying or giving up on life. Chris was the only person in our group to make the summit and he literally looked like death when he got back. He told me he doesn't remember anything about the top because of the intense and severe hypoxia. I have no regrets. None. This trip has been the most spiritual and enlightening thing I've ever done in my life. I will come back here. I will always remember the lessons this mountain taught me. The loneliness and despair and subsequently, the hope it helped me find. I've had the roughest two years a man can have and I can say God brought me here, above the clouds to experience the clarity perspective can bring. I am so thankful for Africa. I feel alive. Kilimanjaro has given me time to heal and forgive, both myself and others. If you ever want to be humbled, and experience the dichotomy of being brought to your knees in both triumph and defeat, there's a mountain in the east african country of Tanzania that will happy to oblige you. 

Last day: I wanted to hate this experience because never in my life did I think I would get to share in something so foreign and magical. The writing is a little haphazard, but I did the best I could. Enjoy!

Today after arriving in Tanrangerie National Park, we went straight to the bush. We were riding in a land rover with a top that popped up so you could stand and take pictures. The landscape was as magical as you can imagine. Chris and I both agreed this is the best thing we had ever done in our lives. The grandiose nature of the African savannah is breathtaking. As far as the eye can see, there is nothing but grasslands. Massive trees called baobabs are sporadically placed. The trunks are massive and can live hundreds of years old. They lose their leaves in the dry season and elephants will use their tusks against the massive trunks in search of moisture. In the process, you can see where these trunks have considerable damage done to them. The Park is known for its massive quantity of elephants. We also saw mongoose, ostriches, wart hogs, antelope, gazelle, water buffalo, water buck, zebras, giraffes, monkeys, wildebeest and lions. We were lucky to see from ten feet away, a lion stalk a group of zebra crossing a water source. It was like being in a national geographic video. It was an amazing experience, but truly paled in comparison to what would lie ahead for us. After the park, we were fortunate enough to visit a local Masai tribe. These people are incredible.

The dirt road seemed endless leading into the park. As we got close we could see a Masai village from a distance. The Masai people are the only ones allowed to live in the parks. Our driver told us we would be going there to see the details of how the people lived. As we pulled up the leader of the tribe came to greet us. His English was remarkably well spoken. He told us he had 6 wives and 18 children. I thought I had problems. He and the other men wore recycled tire treads as their sandals. They all drape themselves in purple or red garments and carry either a spear or a staff. We were told that we could take any pictures we wanted as we were led around the village. Before we started, they wanted to show us a tribal dance and some of their ceremonial traditions. the women all lined up in a row and sang while the men performed wht looked to be some sort of battle dance. one of the members would jump like a pole high into the air while the others would create unusual noises. It reminded me of what you would picture the native americans doing before they left for battle. They pulled all the males in our group into their circle and we performed with them. They all loved this, as they were all laughing and smiling. when te dance was over, our guide, one of the young powerful and promising males of the tribe, led us to his hut. It was only slightly larger than an average closet...a mans closet, not a female closet. The outside looked like mud, but it was made with cow dung, straw and water pasted together and hardened. The women of the tribe are responsible for the construction of the houses while the men are away tending to their herd. The number of their herd is how they evaluate wealth. The construction of each hut takes about 4 weeks and there are two small cubbies for beds, one for the children, the other for the adults. we walked in and there was a small fire on the ground in the middle of the hut, which seemed so dangerous. I saw roaches and hundreds of flies. it literally was an experience I couldn't comprehend coming from a life in the United States. Our guide told us how they made the beds and the food they would cook. Everything is a team effort. The bible verse, "it takes a village to raise a child" is precisely how they live. We could learn a lot from them. We continue to raise ungrateful assholes that tell the parents what to do. Not these people. Later on that day, after our safari, the bartender of our hotel was masai. he talked to us for an hour about his people and his upbringing. At our hotel, two masai walk you to and from your room to the main part of the hotel. i asked him what a couple of guys with spears will do against a lion and he laughed. "Two Masai will easily take on five lions." Two men with spears against five lions. These men have no fear. He told us, as a child, he is sent I to the bush at 8 years old to care for 15 cows. It's their coming of age.

He used a beer coaster to describe the hunting patterns for lions and prefaced the conversation with, lions are very clever. When out in the bush guarding cattle, you must stay in the middle to protect and guide the herd. Lions are very easy to kill, he said...wait till they pounce and spear it. Very easy." Chris and I sat in total amazement. He told us right outside of our hotel Lions killed a wildebeest and you could hear it moaning. The Masai are very quiet and you can tell they are always very aware of their surroundings. He told us they aren't religious people, but most of them are slowly becoming Christian with influence from others. He told us that inside the grounds of our small lodge, Masai killed a leopard last year. one masai with a spear. I cannot get over these people. Im so in awe of their simplicity and their honor. That night, as we slept, two huge elephants walked through the grounds of the hotel and stole water from our pool. If you want a place that will be guaranteed to forever change you, Africa is the place you must go.