If you died tomorrow would you be proud of your life?

So many times, not only was I ashamed of my life but I actively tried to get myself killed. Any risk I took face first. I did this because of the short falls of my life. I wasn’t living up to the potential I knew I could achieve and that we all can achieve. I wanted to be the one to lean on. I wanted to be the honorable big brother to my fellow men and women who would was willing to sacrifice, protect, inspire and provide for them. For eight years I have tried to achieve this goal by showing all those around me how grateful I am to have them in my life and give something back. To lend support, to listen, to help build their dreams as they did for me.

 

Many years ago someone told me to focus on me. To look out and take care of me because I wasn’t in a good place. And that this person needed to do the same. But they were wrong. Looking out for yourself will only get you so far. That will make you average. Those who want to help everyone. Who are willing to shoulder the burden we change the world. We inspire. Because we do what is hard, what is illogical, what is painful. We run towards danger to help others. We don’t run away to protect ourselves. That is what I wanted to achieve and falling short was killing me. But I kept trying. I kept working on my dream. I knew that my invention wouldn’t only help the planet. It had the potential to change the way we think. Not only can we now remove microplastics from the water but that idea started with a half drunk dreamer at the country club of virginia. I walked out of there a failure. I looked my friends in the eyes and knew we were headed back to the same shit hole we lived in. We were headed back to our average lives of life, rent, and death. I walked back in and made a contact that started all of this for them. I’m not trying to change the physical world that is secondary. I want to change the hearts of the people in it. I want my story to be one of someone who came from the shitiest apartment in richmond. Someone who should have never been invited to the country club of virginia. Someone who had been abandoned, marginalized, and banished from his home by what was left of his family. Someone filled with shame, failure, pain and hate. If I could achieve this then all of you could see that I am not special. We all are special. We all dream and feel love in our hearts. All that is stopping us is that we are thinking about ourselves. We are consumed by the fear. We need to build a better world of the heart. Inspire the ones we love. We all need to love one another.

 

Tonight is the first night I go to sleep proud of my life because of a phone call I got today. My big sister. The successful responsible one of the family called me the black sheep today to thank me for inspiring her. She had a dream to change some hospital protocols that would protect patients and doctors. She had a dream to help others and asked for my help and inspiration. She said you have achieved so much and made so many positive changes in your life I wanted to better myself and the world around me too. She worked on her policy for a year. She was doubted, ignored, and marginalized just like I was in the beginning. I told her to stay with it. Fight. Keep hope alive. Fight for your dream. It is worth it. You can help these people if you don’t give up. You are right and it is a good idea. We need this and you are capable of shouldering the burden to get us there. You are strong enough to achieve this dream and win the hard fight ahead. You have the courage to have patience and the perseverance because this will be hard, this will take years. I have complete faith in my big sister as she did in her little brother.

Today she was nominated for a nightingale award because of her new policy. The head of her hospital was so proud of my big sister he nominated her because she fought to change the world for other people. My big sister was inspired to fight because of the little brother who fought for her. My big sister was recognize for her achievement, courage, and heart. And when the battle was won she called her little black sheep brother and said thanks for inspiring me.

 

My inventions are in major circles. You will see them soon. We can clean the water. We can reduce coal emissions by 93%. We can generate electricity in new ways. And I am just getting started. But what I am proud of most is the reinvention of myself. Taking the pieces of my shattered life and making a beautiful inspiring mosaic of love, dreams, invention and determination.

 

I got here because I fought for others. I got here because I dreamed. You can too. I know it.

Tradition

 

I’m sitting here waiting for news that will change everything. All of you raised me with pride in my name. Our family has always lead the way. Our town bears our name. All of you built the local economy, the local fire department, the local water works and even the best restaurant in the state. All of you raise our town from nothing. It took five generations but we did it.

You could have been selfish so many times. You never were. You did it because it was the right thing to do. To set an example for other generations. You were as strong as Atlas. It’s an easy road when you walk alone. But when you carry those around you with unconditional love you prove your strength, dignity and chivalry.  We were a beautiful family and we all made mistakes but we never stopped trying. We never judged each other and were always there for each other. Your cooking, your laughter, your smiles have faded. Your all so powerful you even choose your time to go away. You went when you were finished building a better world then you found. You never judged and you never thought you were better.

I miss you all and hope to see you again at the end of the bar. Today I wait for news where I earned my place at the table despite my mistakes. I kept the tradition alive even alone.  Our town will thrive again but this time maybe even the world. This will change everything around me for the better. I know it will work because I built it with what you taught me. I built it with my heart and dreams not my head. We never care about the odds. Thanks for your patience and sorry you had to go away, but I know it was your time.

Granddad 700 people must have been in your funeral they couldn’t fit in our church. The funeral procession was longer then our town. I was so proud to be your Grandson. Instead of a corny psalms I should have just said, “Look around you, look at all the lives my grandfather touched. That is his legacy and thanks for coming to honor this great man my grandfather. The last cowboy.”

Grandma we all knew you couldn’t live without him and it speaks  volumes that two completely different people came together and built something so powerful it couldn’t exist on this earth alone. You brought out the best in each other and accepted each other faults. A love like that exists only in stories and I saw it every night at dinner. You were Grandpa’s beautiful girl, always. I hope to find that unconditional love one day. True love is your legacy Grandma. I know where ever you both are your together and that is all you need to be happy.

Dad I miss you so much and wish we could listen to some Clapton and share this moment. You would be so proud I finally saw the light. I’m sorry it took so long. That was a beautiful boat and day you had when you finally were put to rest in the river we spent so much time on. I hope you liked it. Thank you for always treating me as an equal and your only son. I miss your stories and your understanding. I know it wasn’t easy having a fuck up as a son but you were always proud of me. Most of the time I never knew why, but I get it now.

Cheers to you all. Past the lips through the gums look out stomach here it comes. You were the best family anyone could have asked for. You raise the bar of honor, compassion, dignity, strength and chivalry. We may be a bunch of relics from a bigon age but it is who we are. That is our tradition and family creed. Everyone has value. No exceptions.

Long Live the writters

Taylor Oceans

Will

 

I will win

I will replace pain with perseverance

I will fight for myself and everyone around me

I will never substitute fear for reason

I will love and never hate

I will rise when knocked down

I will respect even when disrespected

I will substitute doubt with confidence

I will always stand and never kneel

I will always be proud of myself and those I love

 

Long Live the Writers

Taylor Oceans

It’s been a while America. Anyone still there?

Oh we don’t know the roads that we’re heading down
We don’t know if we’re lost, that we’ll find a way
We don’t know if we leave, will we make it home
We don’t know, there’s hope, then we’ll be okay

It’s hard when you’re living and you don’t feel much
And you’re down and you’re hurting ’cause you don’t feel loved
It’s hard when you’re living and you don’t feel much
And you’re down and you’re hoping that things are gonna change

In this life we feel entitled to happiness. We have faith in the happy ending and the smooth road. Well some people, mainly everyone, don’t get those cards. You have to fight and believe. You will inevitably die like the rest. Some are lucky in business and unlucky in love. Some only have bad luck. Some get cancer when they are twelve. Some get wounded in war because they wanted there family to have it better then they did. We will all feel pain and loss.

I was a man raised by women. Every boy needs a Father. Dad was left but he did have the balls to come back just long enough to die of AIDS and it broke my heart to watch him suffer. I miss him everyday. He was the best and our time was to short. I don’t wish that kind of pain on trump. You want to lay down, shake and cry every time you think about it because that loss never goes away. Every song, pancake, smoke, and when you need guidance only a father can give. All I can do is ask a picture on my desk.

So we all should go kill ourselves right? Wrong my mom, rose and sister raised a Gentleman. (Gentleman is a metaphor for someone who accepts responsibility and the cards he is dealt taylor oceans is not sexist or racist he was raised by three women with the biggest balls in the world). They raised someone who isn’t in this life for happiness. He is looking for an honorable fight. He is here to make this world better for all people so that one day no one has to feel that pain. Because it never goes away. So we all have a roof over our heads, food in our belly, books to read, the love of a family, clean air and clean oceans.

Some of us have to hack it more then others. We won’t get what we want. We won’t get the family. We will get cancer. We will lose those who we love. But that doesn’t give us the right to be assholes. We won’t take it out on the sales rep, we won’t ignore our friends problems substituting and quantifying our own. We will hold the door for everyone in the human race. We will pull over and help. We will fight for our fellow man and woman. We will conduct ourselves with honor. We will do our part for the human race. For that dream.

I picked this song for two reason. First holy shit it is hysterical the Capt nailed his entrance. Street fighter for life. Second as individuals we are only a solo act. Together we can be Capt Strumbella and fight the Dark in this world. We will always lite a candle. We can be kind to the sales rep. We all have to make a living and if you don’t have a degree and want to make +80k to afford your invention you hustle. You hustle like a southside pimp because the asshole bitching you out for no reason is going to benefit from your dream. We can love and support those around us free of obligation or judgement. Because it is honorable to respect everyone and we need that self-standard. So everyday when you look in the mirror you can see a good, pure, honorable human being. We can trust and work together as the human race. That is the master race. All of us together fighting and loving as one. So let it all go and stand honorably with me every minute of everyday.  The entitlement, judgement, the pain of loss, your views on cultural norms and our basic animal instinct to kill and fuck… That is my Dad’s legacy. It is my dream.

 

Addendum

We can keep the fuck part I take that back. Fuck like animals that is good. That sweaty raunchy, passionate shit that wakes the neighbors. You need to take a shower after but your too damn tired and pass out next to the person you love most. Or hooker whatever works. I can make that joke I’ve been paid for sex.

 

Next year will be ten years Dad. Sorry I missed your anniversary again, but you know me I’m like you. Distracted and never thinking of the here and now. But your lessons are always with me. I’m a dreamer. I miss you a lot and our conversations. See you at the end of the bar Dad, but I still have some things to do here that will make you proud. I don’t know the roads I am heading, I don’t know if there is a hope it will be OK. But I will always be honorable. Just like you taught me. Rest in Peace.

Long Live the Writers

Taylor Oceans

COME ON AMERICA

 

America yet again you have earned my disdain. While leaving the hardware store today I saw a handicapped guy all alone trying to fix his chair. At the hardware store, the epicenter of handymen and everyone just drove by as this pathetic (Not to insult the guy but he obviously needed help in a very sad way) dude tried to get out of his chair and fix his own wheel.  It was hot as shit, the sun is beating on this guy, he cant even speak, hold up his head or function is any way I would call normal. This guy makes you thank god or whatever deity you believe in that you did not get his lot in life.

So I get out of my car go over and fix his chair. His crooked smile was heart warming. His skinny weak hands tried their best to shake my hand in thanks. I offered to escort him across town in case the wheel messed up again, but his little computer said he was fine. He cant even speak on his own America and you drove by FUCK YOU. I then returned to my car, drove to a gas station, got him a fiji water, went back and hunted that guy down. He was making good time and I gave him the water because I had no idea how long he was trying to fix his wheel in the sun. It is hot in Virginia today.

America this has been the worst year of my life. The woman I love left me for a guy you could find at any sports bar. She added insult to injury by communicating that message to me in a text. I also broke my hand this year making my normal jobs in construction impossible to work because now my hand is more like the guy in scary movie and it hurts like shit every minute of everyday. I could not work, pay my medical bills and bottomed out at 2.95 in my checking account. I was also mauled by a dog, this year, and have had a nightmare every night for the past 158 days since she left me. But who is counting right? I am sleep deprived wounded, heartbroken, and alienated from my family and home. This is not a pity party I just want to illustrate that if anyone has an excuse to be in a bad mood, ignore the world or go on a shooting rampage it is this guy right here writing for you.

But I’m better then that. I’m Taylor mother fucking Oceans, I will always help people and I never give up no matter the odds. I have rallied over the past months and now make 1,000 a week, running my own media and design company. My patent is about to be approved by the EPA and I’m going to be so rich I think I’m going to start my own country. None of you are invited. That is how real Americas rally.

FUCK ALL OF YOU FOR DRIVING BY THIS AMERICAN WHO NEEDED HELP. NEXT TIME GET YOU HEAD OUT OF YOU ASS, PUT DOWN THE SMART PHONE, AND DO SOMETHING USEFUL WITH YOUR LIVES EVEN IF IT IS JUST GIVING FIVE MINUTES TO A CRIPPLE AND FIX HIS CHAIR. WHY IS IT SO HARD FOR US TO BE HUMAN?

Long Live the Writers

Oceans

 I’ve done horrible things in my life. But I have changed. You can too. You have the power.

 

 

 

The Grim Reapers Toll

 

The way the ship lay still and dank

Will remind you of the day she sank

The people astir all over the boat

Praying to praying that she will float

The sounds of the people wailing and screaming

Praying and praying that they are only dreaming

As the boat began to sink they ran to the stern

They now know the lesson to learn

Don’t be consumed by wealth or gold

For the Grim Reaper comes for the meek and the bold

Then you feel the water rise

Floating there your body dies

Then you are merely a soul

Forever more paying the Grim Reapers toll

 

~Taylor Oceans~

 

Thanks for reading America just broke 11,700 disciples tell your friends. Follow on FB.

 

Gentleman don’t quit

 

America I’m here to show you how to live. In the last two months I have had my heart broken, my right hand broken, and was bitten by a dog. The specifics are irrelevant however I do have to take the blame for all three. The point is I still suited up, took off my cast, put her picture in my pocket and sold a millionaire on my invention. Not only that but I sold him on making me an Executive of his Company and the Creative Director. I looked him in the eye, shook his hand like a Virginia Gentleman and took the pain of him re-breaking my hand. Then I took my check, left, and reset the bone myself on the sidewalk. Gentleman don’t Quit. You shouldn’t either.

There are no obstacles in life. Only challenges. When you get knocked on your ass and your body is broken. Lying alone in the mud wishing you were free of the pain. Your only comfort a tattered picture of her you still carry in your pocket. Gentleman still reach for the stars. Even with our ass stuck in the mud. We get up, lite a smoke, make a drink, and say “Fuck it, I can take it!”. Your dreams only fail when you give up on them and I will never give up on my dream for us.

I don’t care what your problems are America. Trust me we all have them. But stop being such a pussy and Fight. Fight for your dreams. Fight for your future. Fight for love.

Long Live the Writers

Taylor Oceans

Want to read my story? Link to my book below.

http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

 

 

If your wondering how a dog bit my arm pit I was protecting my beautiful face. Luckily my shirt was ok.

Oh and a freezer is harder then your hand.

Like on FB

https://www.facebook.com/taylor.oceans.3

 

Merry Christmas America

Even if yours is a little rough like mine this year smile. Through endurance we conquer.

Merry Christmas America

Long Live the Writers

Oceans

38. VALENTINE’S DAY DONE RIGHT

For those not celebrating S.A.D. day, here are some plans to celebrate the perfect day for her… First, you will send her to a Spa to have her nails done. A cheap way to do this is only 18 or 28 dollars. At least go for the 28, you cheap bastards. If you expect her to go through the breaking-in period of anal, get her fucking nails done. She can look at them when she bites the blanket.

Second, the flowers. Now I used to be worth half a million dollars at 24 so doing this on discount is new to me so if I can do it, shut the fuck up. I’ve had two strippers fighting over the numby on my cock (drugs are bad) with their tongues so all can do the couple shit if I can. At least get her two roses. Now men since we know shit about the price of flowers, here is a bone. Three red roses from the stand on the street for fifteen bucks is a fuck in the ass without the courtesy of a free drink.  If you don’t plan on going to a florist to get six roses for fifteen, you’re getting fucked. I did not plan, so the bitch on the street got her hustle on and got me good. So this is what you do. Get creative. When poor, I took two roses I paid 10 bucks for (my ass is sore), some baby’s breath, and this cool shit called thistle of life and some cool blue shit I at least talked her into including. Then I bound the stems with some bullshit twine I had laying around, cut the leg off some tuxedo pajama pants I had (don’t ask) and the chain from some dog tags, rolled it like a joint, and served it up well enough to make Martha Stewart’s pussy wet. Because men and I guess gay women, women want you to do shit that makes you think about them for about an hour. Now, when you include some good rum, perhaps some greens (in certain states), and a good documentary about the battle plan of Japan in the Pacific, you can arrange flowers without your balls retracting or packing up and leaving.  

Third, dinner… Her favorite restaurant. Now some would say make reservations. This is wrong. I just discovered this thing called a budget. It sucks. Take out is always cheaper, first and foremost, because no booze and LESS tip. Now fucks. I used to work in a restaurant and tip on take out. Not 20% and that’s 20% America they live on tips, tip 10% and be happy it’s just that shut the fuck up. Do it enough, and that restaurant will fucking love you, give you the best tables, and never spit in your food. Yeah, we really spit in your food, and I’ve seen worse. Try asshole gravy, cheap tip fuckers. We remember you.

Get takeout and let her stay in bed while you get it. Tell her to keep it warm. Start watching movies in the warm bed because it is February, get the take-out order and let her stay. She will fight you on this because women are “independent” now but don’t let her. For the record, if shit like this turns into a fight, let her win and come with you.

Get the food and get into bed. For the medal of anal, take a 5×2 board (Gentlemen are carpenters learn on your own time America) lay it at the foot of the bed and dinner is served. Put on the movie of her choice, Pretty Woman is acceptable and dig the fuck in. Since you’re eating at home, you can get your booze at the ABC, saving your money while getting her drunk in your bed. Do the math. The extra I just added tonight is this. Her favorite is Sushi, and you eat it with Sake. The catch is Sake is served at 98.4 degrees F°, Gentlemen. So when you go to the store, buy it, preheat some water in a pot, and put the bottle in the water half way with the top loose so that when it heats up it, doesn’t explode. I am not liable if you blow up, I did this once and the top thing sounds logical but I have no evidence it works aside from the passed out chick next to me while writing this.

Fourth, fifth, whatever is the sex toy. I’m a straight guy with a suitcase; I’m talking rolling luggage, full of toys and a sex swing bitches. Buy one. They rock. Guys, our cocks don’t vibrate at 500 RPMs. No shame in some mechanical help. We use bulldozers for houses, saws for carpentry, and all kinds of mechanical advantages in our over-complicated lives. Why not complicate the fuck out of sex too? Magic wand people. I gave her a cowgirl outfit, doggy style strap for shower sex, and some hot leggings that match the cowgirl outfit. Don’t force her to wear it tonight. Get her off (This may not include you. Valentine’s Day is her day. If she does get you off, she is a keeper), and feed her well. She is waking up, so I have to wrap up this chapter.

Gentlemen, if she doesn’t pass out well-fed, cummed, smiling, and losing her voice from screaming your name in the throes of passion, you’re not a Gentleman on Valentine’s Day.  Spoil her on this special day, and she will return it ten -fold.  Besides, she just wants to brag about getting spoiled to her friends.

I hope you enjoyed chapter 38 from my book and I welcome all feedback

Merry Christmas

Taylor Oceans

Long Live the Writers

41. WHEN SHE BREAKS YOUR NOSE DURING SEX

 

So one night, I’m plowing this chick missionary in my bedroom. Everything is going great. I’m fucking her hard and she loves it. I can tell that her next cum was going to be huge. I grabbed a handful of hair and whisper into her ears, “I want you to cum all over my cock.” As soon as I had articulated these words, she came thrashing around as she normally does till she fucking head-butted me. She hit me square in the nose. I was forced out of her and onto my desk across the room clutching my face. In complete shock, we both just stood there naked. Me with a broken nose expecting the blood to start running, and her recovering from an amazing orgasm, wondering if she should apologize or thank me.

Undaunted by the excruciating pain in my face, I took a swig of rum and coke and got back in there, quite literally. Luckily, my nose was not bleeding and figuring I didn’t really break it, I thought I could take the pain long enough to get mine. So after ten more minutes of sex and her not cumming, I start to notice she is staring at my nose. Realizing I hadn’t even seen myself in the mirror, I turn my head to the mirror on my closet. Gents, put a mirror on your closet door so no matter where you’re banging in your bedroom, you can line up the mirror.

I then notice how truly fucking crooked my nose was. In horror, I pull out and go to the bathroom to the sounds of her saying, “Yeah, sorry about your nose. I may be able to fix it.” You see she has a medical background, so she comes across this stuff all the time. The problem is, I hadn’t realized she had just graduated and had probably done this procedure once before if I was lucky. She applies her thumbs to my crooked ass nose and boooooom. She popped that fucker back in, and it looks OK. Kind of funny because when I nibble on her neck now I can feel how the tip of my nose never healed right. OK fine, it’s still crooked. You get what you pay for and in my case, my nose was fixed by a naked lube covered hotty who just came all over me. My nose fixed, I resolved to pay my medical bill with a few more cums and then go to sleep. I sucked back on another rum and coke, took the pain, and tagged it a few more times.

So class, remember when she breaks your nose during sex, take it like a Gentleman and get back in there. (As long as you’re not bleeding, because let’s face it, that would just be weird pounding a chick with blood all over your face like some horny zombie.)