Sometimes when I look at a blank blog post box I get a little intimidated. There's so much I could choose to put in or just leave out and an astounding amount of it remains somewhere scribbled on scraps of paper in a notebook or on posts that never got published on the front page of the blog; there is always a chance an idea may never see the reaction of another's other than my own.

I have a lot to say normally, in my head that is. I guess you really have to understand less is more when I'm speaking. The more concise I am the longer I've thought about it. The more time I take explaining something I don't know, or haven't worked out very well, is often when I start to flounder.

My life has been crazy of late.

I ran into someone from my hometown that actually teaches at DePaul now! I'm really excited to see her again and hopefully we can meet up sometime. I'm fascinated when I see people from home in Chicago, let alone at DePaul; I'd definitely like to talk and get to know her better if there's a chance. Could this be a product of homesickness? Before, we had a working relationship when we were in theater, when I was in high school, and I don't remember what she was doing at the time- still in school somewhere probably.

Another one of my long lost friends from theater in middle school found me too. I guess we "dated," or we called it that. She lived a distance away and I think I only saw her once or twice before losing contact with her. Relationships were hard without text messaging in middle school haha.

I get my hopes up. I do. Even though I try not to. There's a part of me that wants to be gullible and believe everything but there's always that feeling where nothing is for sure. Heresy is my addiction lately.

And now it's bedtime- my favorite time because I've been severely lacking it. I'll dream about tomorrow probably, or being in a rocketship, or maybe an excursion to the beach, a sunflower coming to life, or hopefully something more substantial- a look at what I want the most. (I almost made it an entire blog without alluding to my heart or my ongoing struggles in that department, damn).

Intellectually originated in 'Daredevil's Hamlet,' but I can relate to it and want to relay it
- playing at the Neo-Futurariam this weekend.

When we were little boys, my friends and I played 'War'- not the card game, but the childhood reincarnation of what we thought war was like to our six and seven year old heads; we were just trying to make sense of it all. 

Across the yards of our neighborhood we would set up our own trenches and advance on foreign territory, some of it we had actually never seen before, sneaking around corners and pretending the enemy was continually coming. The open field was where we would scream and dart from each end whilst avoiding cannon blasts and those zipping-by bullets.

This was an imagined world of war, and we were never completely out of casualties because we suffered them daily, whether that be actual physical marks (on knees or arms) or the ones we just made up- so at times one of us would get "hit" by the enemy.

This game as it was still applies to my life today; however, in a different sense than before. 

I want to be the first one hit during the battle because those are always the ones people go back for. "No! We can't leave Eric! No man gets left behind!" As they would rush back towards me, using my body as a tactile defense position encircling me, protecting me from more oncoming fire.

I'd get slung over a shoulder or dragged to a safer place where we could have a chance to be men instead of warriors again. Someone close would lift my head, put it on their lap, and comfort me in my declining moments: "We're going to get you out of this." To be supported: "You are going to make it." And to be needed: "Don't you dare quit on me now." 

Those people who go back for you, lift you up, carry you to safety, and more are what I'd refer to as "best friends." There will still be people who are off somewhere in the distance waging countless other battles but there's that person who sticks to you, not for the sake of the roles they play in the game but because they actually care.

With as many things that I'm doing at DePaul, it's not easy to have consistent relationships with people. I recognize how truly lucky I am then to have those people in my life to be there for me when I get "hit" by life's intangibles. 

Thank you for what you have done for me so far and in advance for what may come in the future. 
Thank you for allowing me into your lives and giving part of your time away.
Thank you for listening to what I mean to say, not always what I do say, haha.
Thank you for sharing personal experiences with me- we have inside jokes now!
Thank you for asking me critical questions about myself.
Thank you for being yourselves with me.

The list far exceeds this one; I hope I got the idea across and that we'll continue to "build" that relationship in ways that works on an individual level (do you know what I mean?).

You want honesty?
You beg for it- from me,
Like I didn't want to give it.
But I say my peace
And get nothing in return.
Not.
A.
Word.
You want honesty?
What will you trade it for?
___________

When I was asked yesterday about making my blog more outright, I wasn't sure what exactly that meant. I am always on the lookout to make this page better and more interesting to read- because I want people to; so I am considering what was put forth. But how?

By being more outright I could list the things I do on a daily basis, I feel this is uninteresting. There are times when I do write what I did that day because I either have nothing to write about, I'm avoiding something, or it goes with a bigger concept I'm trying to convey about life in general. However, my day to day activities are pretty monotonous. I go from 8a-1a pretty much every day, seven hours of sleep is my average. Within one day many things happen- my Twitter serves as a mini-live-blog. If I had Internet on my phone, I don't know how often I'd be writing blogs anymore because of the amount of information I'd post there. So, yeah, follow me on Twitter is the moral of that story.

By being more outright I could say the things I've been meaning to say more directly. Now, I've covered this before but I want to add a little bit more to it. Even recently, I posted a blog that started off by saying how there are some things I cannot write in the blog (referring to "Respectfully..." (09-04-10)) and this is totally true, things can become too personal. What I want to add is that I don't like hurting feelings because I know how it feels, and it's pretty un-fun. By writing texts that can't necessarily be pin-pointed to a particular person, I can use the excuse of, "how exactly do you know I was writing about you?" I feel people's opinions of me change rather quickly and I'd rather avoid a conflict especially when something is read on-line and can be read out of context.

By being more outright I could...I don't know, ask for audience participation? So I ask you, the readers that I do have, what is it you want to read? What will keep you coming back, without me having to post something on Facebook? I need suggestions. This isn't just about me, but a community of people that may or may not know me that live through the same experiences. I'm being serious though, it may be tempting to write something jokingly, but please mean what you write and be constructive. If you say my writing sucks, I will believe that you think my writing sucks and I'll never know how to get better. It's not required, but I'd appreciate the advice.
_____________

I am not made up of light bulbs, sometimes my colors don't shine bright enough for you to see them.
I am rather made up of prisms, if you shine a light at me at the right angle you can see everything I offer.

Yeeeesssssssuh. At last! I am back after my short, unplanned, hiatus from writing on this blog, which wasn't terribly long, but either way, plenty has happened this last week. So much that it doesn't bear repeating! There's literally too much to talk about in this post. I don't have the time or stamina to stay up any later than midnight tonight. I am fairly drained.

Classes have started! My classes are awesome except for my religion class which could very well be my hardest class in college so far. Tuesdays are literally unfathomable to those who like to space out their classes. Imagine, teaching from 9:30-11:30 in the Loop, shooting back to Lincoln Park to eat, having a class from 1:00-4:15, 4:20-5:50, and then trying to wrap it up with a 6:00-9:15 class. Fortunately, like I said, my classes are ballin'. My science lab requirement class (Image, Optics, and Cinematic Motion) could not be easier! My Interpersonal Communication class is taught by an awesome professor and it's something that I'm eager to learn more about. Finally though, my Topics in 19th Century Literature: Monsters & Villains has the look and feel like it could make my life hell, but the professor, well, she's worth the price of admission, if you know what I mean. hahaha.

So I'm in transition, in that, my life right now isn't something I would have guessed it would be and I am in the process of adjusting to, what I feel like is, an advanced plane of existence. By saying that I am referring to how I am a Junior now, so I am a year older obviously, but I definitely am aware of how being that much older feels, whereas before I really didn't understand how I was any different from last year (birthday post). I think I'll keep finding out things about myself that I like or dislike. I could mention a few flaws that I've noticed about myself lately, but why concentrate on the negative? It honestly feels like I'm on a different level. I'm writing, doing, seeing things differently than I would have ever done; it's like I just upgraded from a regular television to high definition widescreen 'shit-your-pants' quality. God, I don't want to even think about life without college now- such an amazing opportunity to get to know yourself and find out who you are as long as you take the time required to do so.

(I recognize these paragraphs are a little longer than I try and write them normally. I figure people look at big blocks of text and run away.)

Do I feel good? Yeah, right now I do. I'm happy. I'm figuring stuff out as it comes up and I'm not worrying as much. There's no way a person could bring me down other than myself- I feel pretty unbeatable.

You may or may not notice some of these changes, but I assure you they're happening right under your noses. I am sly-er than I let on. Those close to me will know soon enough what I mean by this when I point out the patterns I've laid out, like the DaVinci code, but not. The evolution of Eric Ruelle is ongoing, I entreat you to take note.

Three years ago I applied for The Theater School at DePaul University; I was an actor who was brimming with possibilities from four other schools but I had always housed some hope that Lincoln Park, Chicago would be the place where I would end up. In December of the same year I went for an open house and was blown away by the city life I had been searching for after growing up in tiny Port Huron, Michigan. In February I had my audition. I remember practicing my piece in a hotel room on Diversey, pacing back and forth as my mother listened and constructively commented.

I've probably mentioned this before but there are some things I cannot write about in this blog. Either they're too personal or have too much to do with an individual that really doesn't deserve to be talked about in length, or the issue in question needs to be addressed to them in a more personal fashion.

 Having said that, I do have some concerns.

 I walk a fine line between my values for writing these blog posts and my utter need to feel like I am getting some of this out of my system. So I will write with much objectivity. What I write in my personal notebook though is a different story.

 For one, I need to stop saying "I've been thinking a lot lately," because while I do, it paints a negative light on the situation sometimes. I think a lot of good things too, actually- like thinking about memories that bring a smile to my face. Is thinking necessarily a bad thing? Perhaps when you think too much. Thinking can be compatible with the word "lingering." especially when it comes to something specific. Knowing how my mind works though, my mind is normally on shuffle. We'll table this discussion for now I guess.

 One day (less than 24hrs.) = VERY short time. Emphasis.

 There are a lot of things I do not know. But, I know I am a good guy who tries his best to treat everyone with respect. I go out of my way to help other people at personal cost without admitting to it all the time- it's in my nature to put others over myself. There is a level of caring I can provide that has yet to be fully utilized. I reflect and try to better understand what I have to offer in life. I am comfortable with my feelings; I can/will talk about them. I am honest. I listen. I yearn to learn. I think I have qualities that are admirable, I really do.

I believe that I am going to make someone so happy when given that opportunity.

 I can't assume ANYTHING. It's how I get myself in trouble by guessing what I do not know for fact.

 I can, in fact, predict the future- but I haven't wanted to lately.