Unintentional Craziness. Maybe.

I can’t for the life of me think of what to write. I’m sitting here with my finger firmly on the backspace key, shaking my head at everything that comes out of it. The world blows by us, faster each day. Millions of sounds, thoughts, pictures, feelings, and I can’t find one to write about. Which ironically enough brings me to write this. Apologies for the cliché, but what is this? Ramblings of a mad man, and leading to what end? We read thousands of things every day; meaningless, mindless drivel, everything that will never move your soul or pluck a heartstring. I don’t want to be one of those; I will not be content with one in a million. You should come here to feel somethi-no. No. I should come here to feel something, and I do. It’s right here in front of you. You should come here to feel it with me. This right here is my biggest fear and maybe, probably my best talent. But for it to mean something, anything at all, it must truly come from within me. I came to an agreement with myself that if I did this, I was doing it. Matthew Richard Brock means something different to you than it does to me. But if I can make you feel what I feel, if I can move you just an inch, light one candle within you, then maybe we can start to see the same person. Maybe I’ll be able to smile about him more often. Maybe one day, the world will be reading this. Imagine how much more light would be in the world with so many candles…..

I love to write only because you read. If that means I fail out of the gate as a writer, so be it. But I do this to see your reaction, to see that whatever I was feeling in that moment has resonated with you. If it doesn’t, if empathy escapes you, then there was no point, and then I have truly failed as a writer. That will be the last time I ever write. Until then, enjoy the ramblings of a mad man who still can’t think of what to write. (And who can’t keep his finger from laying on that backspa



And so it ends. The wave of a hand, the wrench of a heart. Goodbye’s inevitability makes it no easier to endure. It can bring with it the worst of empty feelings, the knowledge that you once had everything you could dream of, but couldn’t grasp it firmly enough. Everything will change, time will tick, but you will never forget that time and place, or that look in his eyes, and the way the moon lit them on fire. Yet for your sake, he can be nothing more than a memory, an irreplaceable and inexplicable pain that shoots straight through everything you are. And if you let it, that pain will leave you dreaming of the life you could have had, instead of making the one you already have better.

I have been dreaming for far too long. I have been wishing, praying for some semblance of myself to reappear, while simultaneously knowing that I am no longer that man. I have been torn down. Stripped. Burned. I have been reminded how stacked the deck is against me, how low I am and how much further I can still fall. He made me feel greater than anything in this life. He smiled and the world fell to its knees. He was everything I needed, the only thing I needed. But I couldn’t hold on to him, and in a flash and a bang, he was light-years away, and I was broken. I was broken, and worse, I was content. Life wasn’t good enough, but it wasn’t going to get better.

Then I picked up the pencil, and it all came flooding back…

That time, that place. Those eyes…the pain, joy, every heartbreak and miracle in between. It hit me like a gust of wind you could not imagine. All the worst pains in my life, punching me in the gut all at once. But I was alive. I cried, for a long time, as I wrote whatever my head could muster. I lived through it one more time, so that he and that life could never haunt me again. I’m tired of being broken. I’m tired of living within my fears. I’m tired of waking up and dreading the day. I am simply tired. For years I have been shattered, but these words feel like the first steps toward being whole again, stronger than I was before. Maybe these words are just what I need to finally wake up, once and for all, and see the life I have is better than any life I could possibly dream of.


And so it begins.

Let Go

Release yourself Matthew. Let it all out. Forget what you know, what you think you know, what you wish you knew. Let it all go. Fear your tears no longer, face that which you swore you would hide. What would you say to yourself? What if the mirror could talk back? Would you scream at the top of your lungs? Would you fall on your knees? What if everything inside your heart were projected to the world? Would they still love you? We all have monsters inside, skeletons from our closet come back to life to haunt us as soon as we turn the lights out. Can you live with yours? Would it make a difference? Let it all go. It doesn’t matter. Not a god damned bit. Your life is hard; that is not a secret known only to you and the mirror. But are you strong enough, good enough, to overcome it? You feel like you’re here for a reason, for a specific and special reason. Yet everyone around you is looking through you….can your voice be loud enough and pure enough for them to hear you? You have people, friends, family that love you, unconditionally and for who you are, even when you can’t love yourself. So then why is it that that broken mirror and those forsaken skeletons are the only ones who reach out and touch your mind and soul? Why, if this swirling madness around you is consuming you and killing you, can no one reach their hand out to save you? Do they really expect you to save yourself? Can you? Or more importantly, should you?



Don’t stop typing. Don’t ever stop thinking. Don’t ever stop writing. One day, one glorious day, they will all know how you really feel, Matthew. You’ll scream at the top of your lungs. You’ll fall on your knees. They will still love you. You CAN live with your demons. You can make a difference. And some day, when you can fall no further, and your own strength can carry you no further, they will reach their hands out, and lift your weight upon their shoulders.


And you can finally let go.

Let’s give this a shot…

Well. Hello world. It’s been a while. This blog was going to be the thing that…I don’t know, kickstarted my sportswriting career? That never quite panned out. I’ve ventured pretty far from my writing days…until recently. But I think I’m something better than terrible at writing, and it doesn’t hurt, at least not yet. Putting what’s in my head on a web blog for the world to see is a little daunting, as I have not yet gotten over the fear of what everyone else thinks…I want you to like what you read here. But I can’t write differently because of that. If this is my best shot at letting the world see me, then I’d be a fool to not take it, especially out of fear. So here goes.