See ya in 2.

I've said all my goodbyes... and it's finally real now.
I'm about to embark on a stage in my life that I've been anticipating since primary.
THE MISSION.
I'm so excited, that not only can I form a sentence in words about my feelings; I can't even write a sophisticated post about them either. But here's my attempt.

Missions are not easy, everyone says that. Everyone also says, it was the best two years of their lives.
Well... I've had some pretty dang good years. These last 6 months have been amazing, and I'll never forget them. They are definitely going to be hard memories to top, BUT if everyone claims it's the best two... then I want to join this bandwagon.

24 hours from now... I'm going to be set apart as a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

48 hours from now... I'll be sitting in the Los Angeles Airport waiting for my connection to Guatemala.

72 hours from now... I'll be staring at the ceiling in the MTC asking myself what I got myself into, and praying that I survive.

I CAN'T WAIT. I've been anxious this whole last week, and it has easily been one of the most spiritual times of my life. Temple run on temple run on temple run. Oh yeah, that's right.

I know I never would've gotten to my point in this life if it wasn't for my family, they've always been there for me. So shoutout to them, and I know that they'll be safe and blessed while I'm gone.

I'd like to give some shoutouts to my best friends. My bros, and my best girls. We all go together like peanut butter on jelly on wheat bread on dairy/gluten free cake. Here they are, the ALLSTARS of allstars, the greatest and bestest on the greatest and bestest.

Dallin. BOOOOOOM. Biggest stud I know. He's always been there for me, and he's going to kill it in Spain. His Christ-like personality is going to convert the entire Catholic church, just wait.

Gabe. the babe. I don't know a sexier and more confident guy than him. Argentina is getting a male model here soon. Although he hated me in 9th grade and thought I was annoying, I'm glad we've become good friends. He's an all-around good guy, and a lady-killer.

Zack. mmmmm whatcha sayyyyyyy..... DOPE. He's a leader and someone I look up to. One of the hardest workers, and is dedicated to what he does. Now drop a beat, and get on the mish dawg.

Grant. or should I say Mark Zuckerburg? Just wait, he'll be famous. Hopefully he remembers me in the future and that one time I rained a screw into his ear. Kill it in El Salvador, remember to wave to me across the border.

Zoie. Such a strong girl, and always looks for the positive. She's adorable, and always has something good to say. If you need someone to teach you how to be amazing, hit up Zo.

Sierra. DANNGGG... the most stunning girl I know. Whoever hitches up with this dime piece is a lucky guy, she's the sweetest and cutest girl I know and definitely going places. If you want lessons on how to be a sweetheart, hit up Sie.

Sarah. Although she hates a lot of things, she's also the most caring girl I know. She always recognizes those in need, and recognizes the good in the bad. Thanks to her I have the best group of friends ever, and I'll never forget that. Thanks for everything. Also, BYU watch out, here she comes.

Kenzie. Such a guppy. I don't know another person funnier than her. She's more outgoing than Kanye West at a singles ward. Let's just say she's the Alpha, and a person you want to be like.

Rachel. Rachie poo. Our sense of humor is the exact same, and she always takes things too far. She's amazing, and I don't know what else to say other than you're the bestest. Humble, sweet, and caring, she's got it all going on. I'm still trying to figure her out though, she's so mysterious it's intriguing.

To all my bros, kill it out there in the field. I'm not worried about any of you because I know how amazing you all are, and that you're taking the right steps in life.

To my bestest girls, good luck with school and all your activities. I suggest you all get on those missions because you all have amazing testimonies, and can change peoples lives. You changed mine.
BUT, if some lucky guy is capable and able to steal one of you girls within the next to years.. well... if he's an RM, worthy priesthood holder, and it's a temple marriage, then you have my approval. Those three attributes are requirements to have my approval though.

I'm so thankful for this opportunity to go serve The Lord in Guatemala. I love this gospel and this church.
Thanks to anyone and everyone who read this blog.
And I love you all.
See ya in 2.

-J.Stamos. (Elder Nathan Walton)

"I can't help you, if you don't let me,

you're here to live, just be, don't forget me."

-Macklemore (The End)

Looked into her eyes I could see myself.

Don't tell me this hurts less than a broken bone...

I've followed all the rules. I kept my mouth shut and opened it when appropriate.

Sometimes my life feels like a poorly reffed soccer game.
I've played clean, and showed good sportsmanship, yet the referee still decided to call a foul and give me a yellow card for no reason.

I had two options.
1. Turn around and keep playing the game. Tighten my laces, adjust my shinguards, and wipe the grass stains off my shorts.
2. Argue with the ref and risk the possibility of receiving a second yellow card for dissent.

Dissent is not the way to go.

Although I play soccer and yes, this is a possible scenario... this is an analogy to my life right now.
I've stayed in-bounds, shared the ball with my teammates, and put away a few goals myself, but life isn't allowing me to win. I imagined myself raising the trophy and having it all to myself. I looked forward to the future when I could call myself a champion. We could share this experience together.

I do play soccer, and yes this is all real. But this is an analogy to my life in general.
We would've been the perfect team.
I'd pass the ball and get the assists, you'd shoot the ball and score the goals.
But right now I'm sitting the bench and you're the all-star.

Maybe I'll get my chance.
Or maybe not.
Who knows.

-J.Stamos.

Monkey.

For those of you who read my blog, I'm going to continue to post until I leave on my mission so stay tuned...


I wish I read and commented on everyone's blogs so they would read mine.
I wish I had the time to read everyone's posts and then read their last one and be surprised by who it was. #realtalk.
I wish that I had a reason to write besides the fact that I want to be heard.

I write to vent, to reveal, and to create.
But that writing isn't meant for others. No one knows I write daily, things that are so creative that I impress myself.
I don't really want to reveal my ideas, thoughts, and opinions with others though.
I don't want their opinion.

I wrote things I was willing to share on this blog.
I wrote... things that come from my second heart, but maybe not my first heart.
First heart is shy.
First heart is quiet, but definitely has an opinion.
Second heart is loud, and isn't scared to tell people what he thinks.

You read my past and you listen to second heart.
I like second heart.
But I love first heart.


MEET FIRST HEART.

umm.... hi.
welcome to my.... house. my home is being built right now, this is my house. there is a difference.
i don't know exactly what to say, and i'm overwhelmed with delight. we may have different definitions of delight though.
my heart is full of letters and pumps words through my veins.
one time i wrote a poem about a monkey on my back.
here.

"I woke up one day and noticed something funny

and different.

There was a monkey on my back.

He didn't say much and was a constant burden.

I didn't want anyone to notice the monkey on my back.

I wore thick sweaters, and hoodies to cover up the monkey.

Go away monkey.

Eventually I became immune to his presence, and warmed up to the little fellow.

He wasn't so bad. He told me his name was John.

I embraced John and welcomed him into my life.

John was the monkey on my back.

One day John disappeared without a departing word.

But he left a note:

I was only on your back because you had a chip on your shoulder.

I liked the flavor of your chip.

Once you befriended me your chip was gone.

-Monkey

I now realize that not only was John a second burden,

but the monkey on my back,

had a monkey on his back."

-J.Stamos. -N.Walton.

J.Stamos. also known as...

I'm not an easy person to read.
I come across as intimidating and mysterious, and I'm not sure why.
If you don't know me I'm sure you think I'm a punk, but obviously you just don't know me.

Those that know me, know that I never shut up.  I always have something to say and a lot of the time I speak before I think.

They know that I am kind, and friendly and always have a smile on my face.
You don't realize that sometimes I just paint a smile on my face like a clown, and put antiperspirant deodorant on my eyes to stop myself from crying.

Everyone knows I have facial hair and assume that I'm super-mature, but they don't realize I choose to be immature because it's more fun like that.

I'm self-conscious about my appearance, but I don't let people realize this.
My self-esteem is usually hovering around average or above, which means I have an arrogant-essence.

I'm not one to sugar-coat around things.  I'm straight-forward and if you don't like my bluntness, then you should probably stop asking my opinion or saying something that makes me express my opinion.

I'm really good at hiding my feelings about other people.  I could have a crush on someone and they'd never know, or I could respect you like none-other and you think I look down on you; irony.  You've always been an example, I just might never tell you this.

I'm a question, and I'm full of answers.
I take nappy-naps on the weekly because night-time is the best time to have fun.

I don't have much more to reveal because I'm tired and didn't get a nappy-nap today.

I'm Nate Walton, and I approve this message.

-J.Stamos.

Sorry not sorry.

I'm sorry I never post pictures on my blog, it just takes to much time.
I'm sorry I'm so insecure about everything, even though you can't see it.
I'm sorry I'm apologizing about things no one really gives a whoot about. Unless you were an owl; I'd just want you to find the center of a tootsie-pop.

I feel bad I can't please everyone. What's worst of all, I can never please myself. I'm not sure if it's my high expectations, or the fact the I put too much weight on my shoulders along with the backpack full of stones.
And each stone has one word written on it, but these words are in another language I can't translate.
It's like giving a baby a violin and telling it to play Beethoven. And yes, I realize he didn't play violin but you get my point.

Sometimes it feels as though the only thing my parents appreciate about me is that I always finish the empty boxes of cereal, even if there's only two bites left.

I'm sorry I can't hang out tonight, but I already made plans with the girl I told I was insecure about my arm-hair to. I just feel more comfortable around her.
The problem is I'm even more comfortable around the girl who I don't tell my insecurities to because I know she doesn't care. She sees me for who I am. She is down-to-earth and just, gets it.

I'm sorry I haven't answered your phone-calls lately, but you've been such a dick to one of my best-friends that I don't want anything to do with you.

I'm sorry my posts are so broad and jumbled and confusing.
I always imagine them as a beautifully dyed Easter egg, but they just end up being brown because I added too many colors.
Brown isn't bad.
You just got to dissect the colors yourself, find the true interpretations and the blueprints are laying around somewhere gathering dust.

I'm sorry not sorry.

-J.Stamos.

Just a thought.

I've watched dozens of people with near-perfect lives complain and complain about small difficulties.

They complain about things like not having enough time to get ready for the day, and a pony-tail is a rough-day.

They complain about things like their younger siblings borrowing their clothes without asking and running out of chocolate milk.

I'm not saying my life is difficult and hard, nor am I saying it's perfect.

I'm not saying I've never complained about something meaningless and stupid either.

But as I watch people who've gone through hell and back act happier than these other people, I'm so confused.

One of the happiest girls I know had the experience of watching her dad ditch her family for another woman.

One of the happiest guys I know got his girlfriend pregnant at age 18 and had to figure out a life he wasn't prepared for.

One of the happiest girls I know lots BOTH her parents to a murder-suicide.

Don't complain about your broken iPhone or your scuffed-up kicks.

If these people who've been through the lowest-lows are still always able to put a smile on their face, so can I, and so can YOU.

Happiness is an essential key to enjoying life.

We just need to focus on the good things.

-J.Stamos.