Blanks

Seeing this huge, white expanse is a little depressing. I had an idea, then I saw this thing and thought "How am I supposed to fill all this space up?" Writing short stuff is all well and good, yeah, but it's sort of a challenge to try and beat the blanks back, filling the ranks of my alphabetical army with meaningful phrases and philosophical words that can actually tie together into a theme understood by more than just me.

It sort of raises the question, why do I write? For myself? Certainly not, silly stranger. I like to think of myself as being a less selfish person than that (don't we all) and besides, what would be the point of actually writing it down in that case? If the writer wrote only for himself, he'd be better off just keeping it all in his head and away from that harsh mistress we call public criticism. After all, the mind is far better suited to the organization of thoughts and ideas than [digital] pen and paper. No, any writer who claims to write for himself is just being silly.

That pretty much just leaves one other option, right? While maybe the least flashy, writing is still an art, and easily one of the most powerful. We write so that others may read. Read and hopefully be changed for the better. We write to leave our mark on the world. We write to be analyzed. We write because, hell, it's way more fun than school gives it credit for.

Go on. Fill in some blanks.

Steps

"I can make a difference by....no wait, scratch that. I WILL make a difference by...Wait, how can I make a difference? I'm just a naive child...No matter how grandiose my plans may turn out to be, who would lend their ear to a mere child...? An immature youth, completely unversed in the ways of this darkening world. A world delving deeper and deeper into an inescapable abyss...An abyss in which greed, envy, and pride reside. Three triplets whose charms have eternally ensnared the hearts of mortal men, who wreak havoc on the moral values of the world, who are only growing ever stronger...What is one child against the powers of such demons? We've been waltzing down a crumbling bridge, never once looking back into our ruinous wake. The sun shines on the path we chose not to take...the path that we started down...one step at a time...One step...after the other...If I just start with what I can do...maybe...no, not maybe. I will start with what I can do. And what I can do, right here and right now, is write. Write about what's wrong, write about what's right, write about what is dark, write about what is light. All I have to do is...believe in my writing, meager though it may be. For if one believes, it will become two, then three...All it takes is one. One mind. One voice. It can make a difference. It will make a difference. Just believe...yeah...that sounds about right."

-So wrote the young apprentice upon his very soul...

Can You See Clearly Now?

Light = Knowledge

Darkness = Mystery

That's how we see it, right? But why? Why can't it be Light = inside the box and Darkness = outside the box? Concrete versus Imagination? What's the big deal with Light always being good and Darkness being the evil witch, cackling up to her horrible, melting end?

Don't give me that crap about what I just said. It's a matter of perspective and you know it. Some old guy way back when decided how to think and everyone else decided to think what he had thunk without giving it much thought themselves.

Light equals the past, the known, the written, the has-been, the essay already written, the problem already answered, all that is tangible.

Darkness equals the future, the unknown, the soon-to-be-written, the will-be, the brainstorming, the empty blank, all that is intangible.

Am I shedding any Light onto the situation?? (haha, jokes) 'Cause I'd rather be making it oh so Darker.

Proper Grammar

I after We except when....wait what? No, I always goes after We. And We always goes after Them. So I goes after Them always too. I, being singular, takes second place to anything that is plural. We is inclusive of I however, so it too must concede dominance to Them, as Them is not inclusive of I. I stands alone, We stands together, They stand without I at all. I has the power of selfishness, We have the power of disguised selfishness , They have the power of selflessness. One finger. Five fingers. Five hands.

Bad.

Good.

Best.

Quick Review

We've got two arms to work and toil.

We've got two legs to carry us far.

We've got two eyes to seek out the truth.

We've got two ears to listen and learn.

We've got one nose to tell us what's wrong.

We've got one mouth that can open and close.

What do you want?

Another one to eat with?

How come people are only silent when they're eating?

Eraser

The pencil flew across the desk.
The darkness welcomed it with open arms.
The pencil flipped and did its duty.
The darkness cried and slowly gave way.
The pencil would not relent in its duty.
The darkness gave up and clung tight.
The pencil turned to darkness from light.
The darkness still there and now it had spread.

Angst

Man is a social animal. Such are the words of many a pompous blowhard who wanted seem wise. It is true though. Some people would do just about anything if they felt it would bring them acceptance. While some are minor, others are far more serious. I keep asking myself why. Are humans really so afraid of being alone? Afraid of the dark? Afraid of...rejection? Humans are stupid. I am also human. I am stupid, but that's beside the point. Man's overbearing selfishness as a whole has led us down this bloody, scarred bridge that may soon crumble to dust.
An age where it's better to conform to the standards of others than to voice your own. A corrupt age where the light is slowly dying out. An age where people cry out for a cause to believe in, because they are afraid to lead their own. Chivalry has been dead for ages, but now the rest of its family is fading away, one by one. An age where most people, if given a choice between money and happiness, think they know the obvious answer.

The horizon, how gray it is...

-The Angst-Ridden Teenager of Yesterday

Some General Rules

1. We know nothing.

2. We know nothing of ourselves.

3. What we do know, we do not acknowledge.

4. What we do not know, we imagine as we please.

5. We know nothing of others.

6. What we do know, we choose to condemn.

7. What we do not know, we choose to ridicule.

8. We do not care.

9. We do not watch.

10. We do not listen.

11. We place ourselves before all.

12. We are trapped.

13. We refuse to believe any of them.

Be There Martians?

Sometimes, when I read some thing that's just really out there, I start wondering just how people get the idea. It's a pretty simple process I guess. You take a basic theme, boil it with thoughts for a while until it becomes fiction, add some genre, then sprinkle it with style and you're done, right?

Some of the stuff though...I just start thinking, what if God was putting these ideas into our heads because they aren't ideas. Maybe ours isn't the only Garden of Eden out there, but merely different branches from the same roots. Maybe Holmes sits in his study late at night reading about Hurricane Katrina, or Luke watches holograms of The Beatles in his spare time, or somewhere in the far reaches of space, there actually is a planet full of spiky-haired gold people who eat steroids for breakfast before they get constipated on their monkey tails.

Or maybe we're just more creative than I give us credit for.