Sunday, August 30, 2009

Time Stands Still

"...and as the man was hurtling through the air, he caught sight of his Lucky Stone flying alongside him. As he stretched his arm out to hold it, his life did more than flash before his eyes. He was everything, and he was nothing, and he was a boy, and he was an old man, and he his head was in the oven, and his wife lay curled to his chest when he hit the ground. When everything stopped, and when something else started.

Soon they found him, and were surprised to find his hand clenched so tightly around a small white rock. It was pried open, and the stone was thrown away."

500 Days Of Summer

When I was watching the movie, I kept thinking that both of the characters were like me. I thought about it more, and came to this conclusion: My mind is not unified by a single objective*. This in turn got me thinking about all the other things. Is this normal? Well yes and no. When I look at hardcore Republicans or Democrats, I see people who are willing to label themselves in an attempt not to have to make decisions for themselves. When I look at extremist anything, really, it's the same. Why my mind like this? Possibly growing up in a warzone, or maybe just loving two people who hate eachother can do that to you. When step back and look at myself, I usually see that I'm leaning towards one side on some argument or another. But when I LEAP back, I see that I have never decided outright that one choice in these key arguments is better than the other. I don't really know how to explain it any better, and I didn't plan it out so this is what you get.

Then again, I'm probably not unique.

*I'm really not trying to be proud or anything here. Really. I'm not better than anyone because I'm unique, if in fact I am, which I don't even know. Please don't see me for someone proud.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

I find that the term "Selfless" doesn't apply to humans.

Monday, June 15, 2009

A Note on the Setting of Suns and it's Effect Upon the Clouds

When the sun sets or rises upon a cloud, you'll notice that it will change many different colors before the black of night or the light of day reaches the cloud. Red, Orange, Yellow, and Purple are all common colors to find in these transitional hours. Some will tell you that the water inside the cloud refracts the light like a prism and separates it into it's many colors. I would argue that that is not the case.

When a person begins a new life, they experience things for the first time, and are full of emotions. Then, after a while, what was extraordinary, beautiful, or inspiring is now dull, regular and senseless. But when a person reaches a time of death, a time when things are about to change forever, they will look back and see once again the intricacies of their daily lives, those things that were lost for so long. Once again, for a brief period of time, they live full of emotion, full of happiness, sadness, hurt, and even anger.

I would argue that clouds do the same thing.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Majorly Philosophical Song

Can you find the golden lines?

I found an interesting website today. Truly a work of art. And it's interactive, that's a plus.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009


It's a burden to be smart.

But someone has to do it.

Weird Things

Some weird things just happened to me.

My dear mother told me when i got home from school that my step-father had been asked to leave.

How delightful.

I took all of my autistic step-brother's things out of my room, and the house feels empty.
And calm.
Peaceful, you could say.

Why is he gone?

He stole 1,200 dollars out of a joint account and didn't tell anyone. And was planning to take everything in the house and leave during my birthday party.

Or at least that's what mom says.


Saturday, May 02, 2009

Life Becomes Real

"...The boy had been born. But it didn't cry. They did. The mother and father decided that their next child, the second-born, would be the one to live up to those lost expectations..."

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

"'I mean if he were a girl -- somebody in my dorm, for example -- he'd have been painting scenery in some stock company all summer. Or bicycled through Wales. Or taken an apartment in New York and worked for a magazine or an advertising company. It's everybody, I mean. Everything everybody does is so -- I don't know -- not wrong, or even mean, or even stupid necessarily. But just so tiny and meaningless and -- sad-making. And the worst part is, if you go bohemian or something crazy like that, you're conforming just as much as everybody else, only in a different way.' She stopped. She shook her head briefly, her face quite white, and for just a fractional moment she felt her forehead with her hand -- less, it seemed, to find out whether she was perspiring than to check to see, as if she were her own parent, whether she had a fever. 'I feel so funny,' she said. 'I think I'm going crazy. Maybe I'm already crazy.'"(Franny, J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey)
Is there any way not to conform?

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

What's Behind

What's Behind

One day

I bumped into someone when I was

On the sidewalk.

The person was wearing a

Mask it was


I apologized,

They apologized,

And we went our separate ways.

The next day, I saw that person

Again, and they were wearing the



I said “hey!

You’re that guy I bumped into


And I sat down

And we talked

And she took off the

Mask called


The mask underneath looked

Much like a



But some

Features were

Distorted, although I could

Not tell which ones

They were.

We chatted for a

While, and the

Day grew late, as the

Sun lit the clouds in the


I asked her if she wanted

To talk again

Tomorrow. And she said


And she took off the

Mask called


The mask underneath looked

Much like the one above

Except that now I

Could tell which features

Were “distorted”:

There was no distortion.

There was an exuberant,

Energy-filled face,

Which was beautiful.

We met again at

Daybreak, on a

Ridge overlooking the

Rising sun.

And we talked about

Meaningful things, like





And we

Were so

Happy, but so

Unaware of the

Truth of all things.

The day after, we met in the

Afternoon, and again talked about

Meaningful things, like





But we also talked about

Meaningful things, like





And the mask began to


We talked through the

Night. And when the

Sun came up again,

I could tell that the

Mask called

Friendship had

Fallen off.

The mask underneath looked

Like it could change. It

Didn’t look

Like a

Mask at all.

It looked like one of



Except that the


Moved around endlessly,

Searching for their



We kept talking.

About all the things

We’d ever



All the things we’d ever



And I reached

Over to her

And peeled back the

Mask called




Now the

Right side of


Face was the

Mask called




And the

Wrong side of



Revealed the

Mask called

Consciousness, or the

Mask that we


Take off.

This mask looked

Unlike the others.

It was a machine, that

Constantly moved to the

Commands of something

I could not see clearly.

We were


Crying as I slowly

Looked to see if I could

See what was driving the

Machine. I

Halted some pistons, and

Undid some screws, and

Recoiled as I saw what was

Behind this last


I knew, from

Then on,



Is an illusion

Created to pacify us, and to

Hide the

Darkness that




What is










Signs Of Life

"...She looked down at her stomach, and felt a tiny stir. Her firstborn child was soon to be born. An innocent, perfect, beautiful baby boy..."