SHARK IN THE SHALLOW END

CAPTURED BY MITCHELL ROYEL

Now playing: Jaymes Young - Dark Star

Vulnerability in the Digital Deep

Modern Dating Story

We’ve all been there—that moment when the night ends, and we’re left wondering what comes next. Let me tell you about one of those moments that changed everything.

The movie had been good. Not great, but good enough. We’d laughed at the right parts, shared popcorn, exchanged those knowing glances when the plot took a predictable turn. The chemistry was undeniable—that effortless kind where conversation flows like water and silence doesn’t feel awkward. He was charismatic in that way that makes a room feel smaller, more intimate. Confident. The kind of guy who knows how to make you feel like you’re the only person in the theater.

But then came the parking lot.

Separate cars. Separate directions. The reality of modern dating where we hedge our bets and protect our independence. We said our goodbyes with promises to “do this again soon,” and then we were alone with our thoughts and the glow of our phone screens.

Text That Changed Everything

Twenty minutes later, her text came through: “So… what kind of music do you like?”

It’s such a simple question, isn’t it? The kind we ask when we’re not ready for the conversation to end. When we’re fishing for connection, for common ground, for another reason to keep this thing going.

He could have said anything. He could have played it safe—named a popular artist, stuck with the charismatic persona that had carried him through the evening. Instead, he sent her a link.

“Dark Star” by Jaymes Young.

Here’s where it gets interesting. Here’s where we see the mask slip, just a little.

All evening, he’d been on. Charming. Witty. The kind of confident that borders on cocky but never quite crosses the line. He was the guy who had it together, who knew what to say and when to say it.

And then he sent her that song.

“If I told you where I’ve been, would you still call me baby? And if I told you everything, would you call me crazy?”

The lyrics hung in the digital space between them like a confession. This wasn’t a song about confidence or charisma. This was vulnerability set to a haunting melody. This was a man admitting he was a “dark star”—someone with a past, with scars, with stories he wasn’t sure he should tell.

“My heart was born out of the fire, I lost love a thousand years ago, and still I can’t find her. Now I don’t love like I used to.”

The contrast was jarring. Beautiful, but jarring.

Her Reaction

She sat in her car, phone in hand, and listened. Once. Twice. Three times.

The first listen was curiosity. The second was understanding. The third was appreciation.

Because here’s what she realized: the charismatic guy from the movie theater wasn’t a facade, but he wasn’t the whole story either. He was showing her something real. Something raw. He was saying, without saying it directly, “This is who I am beneath the confidence. This is the part of me that’s still healing. This is the part that wonders if you’ll stick around when you see it.”

She texted back: “This song is beautiful. And kind of heartbreaking.”

And then, after a pause: “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

What We Can Learn

This moment—this Dark Star moment—teaches us something profound about modern dating and human connection. Here are the lessons we should all carry forward:

1. Vulnerability Is Magnetic

We spend so much energy crafting the perfect persona, but real connection happens when we let someone see beneath it. The charisma gets you in the door; the vulnerability keeps them there.

2. Music Speaks What Words Can’t

Sometimes we can’t articulate our feelings, our past, or our fears. That’s okay. Let art do the heavy lifting. A song, a poem, a film—these can communicate depth that small talk never will.

3. Timing Matters, But So Does Courage

Was the first date too early to show this level of depth? Maybe. But there’s something to be said for not wasting time. If someone can’t handle your complexity early on, better to know now than six months in.

4. The Right Person Will Appreciate Your Layers

She didn’t run. She didn’t think it was “too much” or “too soon.” She recognized the gift of honesty for what it was. That’s how you know you’re dealing with someone worth your time.

5. Contrast Creates Intrigue

The juxtaposition of his confident exterior and vulnerable interior made him more interesting, not less. We’re all walking contradictions. Embrace it.

6. Follow-Up Matters

Don’t just send the song and disappear. Be present for the conversation that follows. Vulnerability without follow-through is just emotional exhibitionism.

7. Know Your Own Story

He could share that song because he’d done the work to understand his own narrative. Before you can let someone in, you need to know what you’re letting them into.

Takeaway

We live in an age of carefully curated Instagram stories and first-date personas. We swipe, we match, we perform. But somewhere between the parking lot and the text message, between the charisma and the confession, real connection happens.

It happens when we’re brave enough to send the song that says, “I’m a dark star, and I’m not sure if you’ll still want me when you know that.”

And it deepens when someone texts back, “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

So the next time you’re sitting in your car after a date, phone screen lighting up your face in the darkness, ask yourself: What song would you send? What truth would you tell? What version of yourself are you brave enough to share?

Because we’re all dark stars in our own way—born from fire, carrying our past, wondering if we’ll be accepted for everything we are.

The question is: are we courageous enough to let someone see it?

What’s your “Dark Star” song—the one that reveals who you really are beneath the surface? Share your story in the comments below.

From the Bubble to the Valley — Journey Beyond Comfort and Illusion

Captured by Mitchell Royel. Now playing: Pursuit of Happiness by Kid Cudi.

Hey,

There’s a story I’ve been carrying — one that doesn’t fit neatly into the polished narrative of suburban privilege or the neat boxes we’re often forced into. I grew up in a wealthy suburban high school, a place where conversations felt scripted, where laughter was often a mask, and where the future was laid out like a blueprint. But beneath that surface, I felt a growing restlessness, a hunger for something real.

Leaving that world behind, I took a job as a server at a local restaurant. It was a world apart — raw, unpredictable, and alive. The late nights were filled with laughter that wasn’t rehearsed, conversations that cut through the noise of my old life. I remember one of the guys I worked with, a musician, inviting me to a backyard show in the valley. Driving there, I felt the pulse of a world I’d only glimpsed from afar — a world where people weren’t defined by their wealth or status but by their stories, their struggles, their truths.

The restaurant itself was a classroom of life. I perfected the art of folding kid menus — a small, almost meditative task that grounded me amid the chaos. It was in these moments, folding those little menus over and over, that I found a strange kind of peace. It was a ritual, a way to keep my hands busy while my mind wrestled with everything else.

Before my girlfriend, there was another girl — she caught me off guard, hitting on me during a shift. For the first time, I felt truly seen, not as a product of my environment but as someone with depth and complexity. That moment cracked open the illusion I’d been living in.

Then came my girlfriend — a force of nature wrapped in vulnerability. She was bipolar, and living with her was like riding a wave I couldn’t predict. The mood swings were intense, the late nights filled with silence and sudden storms. I remember her dad knocking on the door, speaking in a language I didn’t understand, his voice low and urgent. Those moments were raw and real, a stark contrast to the polished life I’d left behind. It was messy, complicated, but it was life — unfiltered and true.

Meeting her through a friend at the community college was a turning point. She challenged me, pulled me out of complacency, and convinced me to drop out and leave my job. It was terrifying — stepping into the unknown with nothing but faith and a restless heart. Six months later, I was signed to a modeling agency. Suddenly, the world I’d known shifted again.

After my run with the modeling agency, I found myself drawn to a fitness studio — a place where I could reclaim control over my body and mind. The discipline of the workouts grounded me, offering a rhythm and focus that I hadn’t realized I needed. It was another form of transformation, one that wasn’t about image but about strength and resilience.

Then came the drive back into my hometown, this time for a job interview at a bookstore. The plaza looked the same, yet everything felt different — or maybe it was me who had changed. Walking into that quiet space filled with stories, I felt a strange comfort. It was a reminder that life isn’t just about chasing the next big thing; sometimes it’s about finding stillness, connection, and purpose in the everyday.

Here’s what I’ve come to understand:

• Authenticity is a rebellion. The raw conversations and laughter at the restaurant were acts of defiance against a world obsessed with appearances.

• To be seen is to be vulnerable. That girl’s boldness showed me the power of recognition beyond surface-level judgments.

• Growth demands risk. Leaving the safety of school and a steady job was terrifying, but necessary.

• Community is our anchor. The people who walk with us through uncertainty shape who we become.

• The journey is never linear. Returning home felt like stepping into a story still unfolding — one I’m both author and character in.

• Love is complicated and real. Loving someone with bipolar disorder taught me patience, empathy, and the beauty in imperfection.

• Strength comes in many forms. Fitness wasn’t just physical; it was mental and emotional, a way to reclaim myself.

• Purpose can be found in quiet places. The bookstore was a sanctuary, a place to breathe and reconnect with what truly matters.

We’re all navigating the tension between who we were and who we’re becoming. The cool thing? We get to write our own narratives, break free from the scripts handed to us, and create something real — something us.

Stay restless. Stay brave. Stay us.

— Deck

Dracula

Captured by Mitchell Royel—now playing Dracula by Tame Impala. The moment crystallizes: artistry meets vision, and the narrative shifts. This is what happens when creative conviction refuses compromise.

Captured by Mitchell Royel

Captured by Mitchell Royel

The first time I felt the pull of midnight's electric current, I was standing on my apartment balcony, watching the city lights blur into streaks of neon honey. There's something about the witching hour that transforms everything - the air becomes thicker, more alive, pulsing with possibilities that daylight simply cannot contain.

I've always been drawn to the liminal spaces where reality bends at its edges. Those moments when the familiar world dissolves and something far more intriguing takes its place. It's in these spaces that I discovered the true essence of nocturnal transformation - not the gothic romance of old tales, but something far more electric and immediate.

The city at night becomes a different creature entirely. Streetlights become stars, casting their amber glow across empty sidewalks where shadows dance to rhythms only they can hear. I find myself walking these streets, feeling the pulse of something ancient yet thoroughly modern coursing through the concrete veins beneath my feet.

There's a particular corner downtown where the old architecture meets the new, where Victorian ironwork casts intricate shadows against glass and steel. Standing there, I can almost feel the weight of centuries pressing against the present moment. The past doesn't disappear - it layers itself into the now, creating depth and texture that makes everything shimmer with possibility.

What if transformation isn't about becoming something else entirely, but about discovering what was always there, hidden beneath the surface?

I remember one particular evening when the fog rolled in from the harbor, thick and mysterious, turning familiar landmarks into ghostly suggestions of themselves. Walking through this transformed landscape, I felt myself changing too - not into something monstrous, but into something more authentically alive. The boundaries between self and environment began to blur in the most beautiful way.

The allure of the night isn't about darkness conquering light - it's about finding the electric energy that exists in the spaces between. It's about discovering that transformation can be gentle, hypnotic, like waves of sound washing over you until you're not quite the same person who began the journey.

In these midnight wanderings, I've learned that the most profound changes happen gradually, almost imperceptibly. One moment you're walking down a familiar street, and the next you're moving through a landscape that feels both completely foreign and intimately known. The rhythm of your footsteps begins to sync with something larger, something that connects you to every other soul who has ever felt the magnetic pull of the night.

There's magic in surrendering to this transformation - in letting the boundaries of your everyday self become fluid and permeable. Not the dramatic metamorphosis of legend, but something far more subtle and infinitely more powerful. It's about becoming more yourself, not less.

The city's heartbeat becomes your heartbeat. The electric hum of late-night energy becomes the soundtrack to your own becoming. And in that synchronization, you discover that the night doesn't change you - it simply reveals who you were always meant to be.

The dawn always comes, of course, but those who have danced with midnight's electric embrace carry something of that transformative energy with them into the daylight hours. They move through the world with a different rhythm, a deeper understanding of the magic that exists in the spaces between what we think we know and what we're brave enough to discover.

-Deck (of Mitch Leyor)

Echoes of a Digital Serenade: Calabasas Nights

Captured by Mitchell Royel, the ephemeral essence of adolescent anticipation crystallizes—a moment suspended between vulnerability and unbridled potential. The evening's choreography unfolds like a delicate narrative, where pressed suits and carefully selected ensembles become metaphors for transformation. Each glance, each measured step represents a threshold of becoming, that singular precipice where youth confronts its most intimate aspirations. Now, watching the music video for Bubblegum by The Stunners (YouTube), I'm transported to those liminal spaces where memory and possibility intertwine, where the soundtrack of youth plays its most profound melodies.

In the pixelated realm of MySpace, she first appeared—
A melody suspended between digital whispers and dream-soaked memories.
Calabasas nights pulse with an electric heartbeat,
Where music becomes more than sound—it becomes destiny.

We are not passive observers.
We are architects of possibility.

Her profile—a constellation of moments, carefully curated,
Each image a brushstroke of potential connection.
The concert wasn't just an event. It was our battlefield of desire,
Where algorithms of chance would bow to the gravity of intention.

Streamers dance like neural pathways,
Confetti—our metaphorical DNA of pursuit.
The venue thrums with anticipation,
And we? We are the living embodiment of calculated risk.

One glance.
One moment where digital becomes visceral.
Where MySpace becomes more than a platform—
It becomes the origin story of our inevitable connection.

Her number—not just digits,
But a coordinate of human possibility.
A testament that in this age of algorithmic isolation,
Raw, unfiltered connection still reigns supreme.

Shooting Our Shot: The Definitive Guide

Listen up, because this is how we turn potential into reality:

1. Digital Reconnaissance
   We don't just follow. We study. MySpace isn't nostalgia—it's our intelligence gathering platform. Know her musical taste, her vibe, her essence before you even think about approaching.

2. Venue Domination Strategy

• Arrive early. Own the space.

• Position is everything. Find that sweet spot where connection becomes inevitable.

• Confidence isn't loud. It's a quiet, electric current that everyone feels.

1. The Approach: Precision Over Performance

• Forget pickup lines. We craft narratives.

• Reference something specific from her music. Show you're not just another face in the crowd.

• Authenticity is our secret weapon.

1. Conversation as an Art Form

• Listen more than you speak.

• Every word is a strategic move.

• We're not here to impress. We're here to connect.

1. The Follow-Through

• This isn't about one night.

• Create momentum.

• Be the unexpected variable in her algorithm of existence.

Pro Tips for Us:

• Dress like you own the narrative

• Body language speaks louder than words

• Confidence is a frequency, not a volume

• Respect is non-negotiable

• Your energy is your most powerful asset

We don't chase.
We manifest.
We don't hope.
We create.

This is how we turn a moment into a movement.

-Deck

STICK HANDLING LIFE

We are pleased to acknowledge the collaborative visual documentation by Mitchell Royel, in conjunction with our recent screening of the cinematic production “Focus,” featuring distinguished performers Jamie Foxx and Ariana Grande.

This statement serves to recognize the artistic and professional achievements represented in this collaborative media experience.

Minnesota: A State of Exceptional Diversity and Promise

Geographic and Natural Landscape

Minnesota, known as the “Land of 10,000 Lakes,” is a Midwestern state characterized by its diverse landscape, spanning from the northern boreal forests to the rolling prairies of the south. The state encompasses approximately 86,936 square miles, featuring a rich tapestry of natural environments that support robust ecological systems and recreational opportunities.

Economic and Cultural Significance

As a hub of innovation and industry, Minnesota boasts a robust and diversified economy. The state is home to major corporations such as Target, Best Buy, 3M, and General Mills, positioning itself as a significant center for business and technological advancement. Minneapolis-Saint Paul, the state’s twin cities, represent a metropolitan area known for its progressive urban planning, extensive park systems, and vibrant cultural scene.

Hey there, future champions.

Growing up in Minnesota, I learned two things early: respect your elders and hockey teaches you everything you need to know about life. Now, I know what you're thinking – "Hockey? In the South?" Trust me, Tyler from my old youth group said the same thing before he discovered that the ice rink was where he learned his most valuable life lessons.

Let me share something with you that took me years to figure out, and hopefully save you some bruises along the way.

1. Don't Get Caught Icing Your Dreams

Work-life balance isn't about perfect splits – it's about knowing when to push and when to pull back.

Mason, a buddy of mine from church, used to work 70-hour weeks at his dad's construction company. He thought grinding harder meant caring more. Wrong. Just like icing the puck when you're exhausted leads to turnovers, overworking leads to burnout.

The secret? Shift changes. Even Wayne Gretzky took breaks. Schedule your "shifts" – work hard for focused periods, then step off the ice completely. Your family, your faith, and your future self will thank you.

[Try This: Set a "shift timer" on your phone for 90-minute work blocks]

2. Power Play Your Priorities

When you're up a man, you don't waste the opportunity on fancy moves – you score.

Blake learned this the hard way during his senior year. He had a scholarship opportunity, a girlfriend, and three part-time jobs. Instead of focusing his energy like a power play, he scattered his shots. Result? He missed every goal.

When life gives you advantages – whether it's extra time, resources, or opportunities – attack with purpose. Don't try to do everything; do the right things with intensity.

Your priorities should be as clear as the goal posts. Faith, family, future – in that order.

3. Assist Your Way to the Hall of Fame

The best players make everyone around them better.

Here's something that'll blow your mind: celebrating your friends' success actually makes you more successful. Hunter used to get jealous every time someone in our group got promoted or found a great girl. That jealousy? It was like playing short-handed – constantly defending instead of creating opportunities.

When Caleb got into his dream college, Hunter could have sulked. Instead, he threw him a party. Plot twist: Caleb's college roommate introduced Hunter to his future business partner.

Stop competing with your friends and start completing them. Your success isn't diminished by theirs – it's multiplied.

[Action Step: Text one friend right now congratulating them on something they've achieved]

4. Penalty Kill Your Pride

Sometimes you're down a man because of your own mistakes – that's when character shows.

We all take stupid penalties. Maybe you said something you shouldn't have, made a promise you couldn't keep, or let your temper get the best of you. The question isn't whether you'll mess up – it's how you'll respond when you're short-handed.

I remember when Tyler accidentally damaged his boss's truck. He could have made excuses or blamed the weather. Instead, he owned it completely and worked extra hours to pay for repairs. His boss was so impressed with his character that he got promoted six months later.

When you're in the penalty box of life, kill that penalty with integrity. Don't compound mistakes with more mistakes.

5. Hat Trick Your Habits

Three goals in one game isn't luck – it's preparation meeting opportunity.

The young men I know who are absolutely crushing life all have one thing in common: they've mastered the fundamentals. They wake up early, they keep their word, and they invest in relationships that matter.

Blake's morning routine? Prayer, workout, and planning his day. Every single day. Sounds boring? Maybe. But boring habits create exciting opportunities.

Your hat trick habits should be:

• Spiritual foundation (start your day with purpose)

• Physical discipline (your body is a temple, treat it like one)

• Relational investment (text your mom, call your friends, be present)

Listen up, champions. Hockey taught me that the game isn't won in the highlight reels – it's won in the fundamentals, the assists, and the way you handle yourself when the ref makes a bad call.

Your life is your game. Play it with honor, celebrate your teammates, and never forget that the best victories are the ones you share.

Now get out there and show the world what Bible Belt hockey players are made of.

-Deck