On The Wall

Look into the mirror

Tell me what you see

Are you really what

You first appear to be?

Look past the clothes

Look past the hair

Look into the very depths

Look on, if you dare

Your self is down there

Waiting for you

Just imagine the many

Things that you could do

If you look into the mirror

Ringing Bells

Up there, on the very peak of the lowest hill, there lies a bell. Not a very special bell...looks rather dingy from some angles...but it gets the job done. What job you ask? You'll have to ring it.

Of course, surrounding the bell on the very peak of that lowest hill, are a few...guardians, so to speak. No I'm not going to explain them! What nerve...ruins the whole surprise, it does.

Oh yes, life-threatening obstacles are rather morale-lowering, I suppose...but that just makes it more worth it in the end, m'boy! ...Oh I never! I will not stuff it! Youth has no sense of drama these days...or maybe too much?

Just prepare yourself well. At least I warned you, spoiled little...Anyway, another word of advice. There's no rope on the bell, but bringing extra is the very last thing you should do. Why? Eh...well you'll have to do the job to find out.

Judgment

Intelligence.

It has replaced physical prowess as the key determining factor of success in recent decades. Which of course begs the question, what is intelligence? There are many different views on this subject...ironic considering the sheer budget that flows into methods of ranking individuals based on this singular statistic. It could be the ability to look smart even if you're not really sure about yourself or what you're talking about, or the practical application of what you know to real life, or a person taking what they know, no matter how much or how little, and using that to help others, or being able to get as far to the line as possible but knowing when to not cross it, or even simply logic, or IQ, or memorial capacity, or pattern recognition, or (as the dictionary puts it) the capacity to learn.

Do any of those definitions (from different people, I might add) hold merit? Perhaps all, perhaps none. We go around the block on a daily basis constantly judging other people's intelligence, or lack thereof. Do we use the preceding paragraph as the criteria in our judgments? I'm guessing no. Many would use an unconscious comparison to themselves, thinking "Ha, I'd never do that," or something to the effect, or merely cite a disagreement as proof of stupidity. People naturally favor those they agree with, but there is a line, whereupon the crossing crosses into ridiculousness. Think about it. That block is not nearly everything, but skim over it again. Do you match every part?

Now, look at that. A bit of a handful, eh? You'd better have been paying attention, as you only have a handful of opportunities to prove to the world that you are a lower numerical value than everyone else. You judge people, right? They judge you too.

12

Observe


That is the ruler of the world. You cannot escape.


Change its form. It matters not. You can't escape...


...from the rulers of the world.

Shining

Sun shining down on me
Shining for all the world to see
Shining so that we can be free
Shining on.

But then here comes the moonlight
Giving rise to a great deep fright
But always throughout the night
Shining on.

Stars that shine so very bright
Shining so that they can be
symbols of eternal might
Shining on, oh yes you see.

Endless Waltz

We study, to make acceptable grades. We endeavor, to make an acceptable college. We study again, to make acceptable wages.

So we can afford for our children to do the same thing.

Over, and over, and over.

How did this happen? Aren't we worth more than a numerical value? Isn't it worth doing something?

Or is the world really over when you get an 89 in Advanced Aerospace Engineering?

Directions

"Crap..."

"What's wrong?"

"The compass..."

"Yeah...?"

"It's...uh..it broke."

"So?"

"Whaddya mean so!? We're out in the middle of a desert!"

"Oh? Then what's that tree doing there?"

"What tre-what the..?"

"Y'see? We're fine."

"I've still got the map...there's no forest on here..."

"You say something?"

"No...nothing.."

Hide and Seek

Can you find me?

C'mon, hurry up!

Keep looking!

I'd say you're getting warmer..but you aren't...

Don't give up!

Hehe, now you're warming up.

I'm hiding behind the moon.

Philosophies

Some say:

"Early to bed and early to rise makes a man smart, healthy, and wise."

Others say:

"Early to bed and early to rise makes a man weak and blind in the eyes."


Personally, I think the second hits it spot on.

In The Gloomy Darkness

As I lay here in the gloomy darkness, I wonder...

Why is the night sky yellow?

Ensemble

As they sat wearily around the campfire, one noticed the silent monotony, and, feeling mischievous, quietly doused the fire.

Panic surged a couple of the friends, but the laughter accompanying the gasps quickly spread, and accurate guesses were made about the perpetrator. One moved to ignite the tinder again, but another, as if reading the former's thoughts, cut him off.

"Let's leave the fire. We're all done eating, right? Can't we just enjoy the evening?"

"But..."

"Aww, scared of the dark now, are we?"

"Haha, it's not like anything will attack us way out here."

"I guess so..."

"There now...isn't this a lovely night?"

"Hmph.."

...

"Mm....what..do you all see?"

"Nothing! Haha! Can't even see my own feet."

"The graves of my enemies, rotting in the darkness.."

"An ambush.."

"..the moon is lovely tonight."

"Hmm.."

"Well, what about you?"

"Heh..our dreams..seem to be in reach."

"Didn't need you to tell us that!"

"As you wish.."

...

"What was that..!?"

Roughing It Like Diamonds

This world is a beach.

The people, its sand.

Some are just there to hold the others up, some get to the top only to be stepped on, some get washed away into the ocean only to return to the masses. And some, rather unfairly, get scooped, burnt, and transformed into glass. Sometimes beautiful, and sometimes not. Of course, there are the rare few 'diamonds in the rough', but what's the point of that? No one wants a diamond the size of a grain of sand. You can't even always tell the difference.

Then there's the sand that ends up in unfortunate places.



The point of this? Sand puts up with all this garbage. So can you.

Catches

Somewhere in the world, they say, there's a quill pen that never runs dry, and when written with, provides its holder with an endless stream of ideas.


























The catch? Whaddya mean catch? I'm just spreading the word. No one in their right mind would want a piece of crap like that. Where's the fun in that?

Soap Suds

It's funny, yet horrifying, when you realize just how corruptible humans are.

cor-rupt:
To change the original form of

We start at the very lowest level, or rather, that of a baby. The one being that is universally agreed to be pure, at least in some circles. The inconsistency of this has been noted. But small children are the symbol of innocence, correct? And small children, being small children, are very susceptible to corruption, whether it be for better or worse. Can someone be tainted for the better? Of course. That's what the bad guys say.

What are the virtues of virtue, exactly? A ticket through the Pearly Gates, certainly, but not everyone believes in that. What else? The respect of anyone good enough to recognize your inherent good, probably. Maybe a sense of selflessness in yourself, and a warm feeling as accompaniment. More than likely the false sense of superiority that some Chri-...people seem to have. And karmic gratification. Of course, you also get to stay out of prison, you goodie-two-shoes, you.

Good of being bad? Two words: street smart. Plus little to no restrictions on said street, really. A sort of confidence, too. You're bad-a, if video games have a say. Karmic retribution applies, but why sweat the small stuff, right? It just feels good, you baaaaad boy.

Don't drop the soap though...

♪♫

I will always be here,
So you don't need to fear,
Whatever may come both our ways

Whatever happens to you,
I will always be true,
For the rest of each one of our days

Please don't worry,
No, don't worry.
Please don't worry,
'Cause I'll be here for you.

When we're passing the time,
It feels like a crime,
Whenever I have to leave you.

To my heart, you've got the key,
So please never leave me,
Because I don't know what I would do.

Never worry,
No, don't worry.
Never worry,
'Cause I am here with you.

Clock Time

Tick tock
One feels great
Tick tock
Two's kinda late
Tick tock
Three's in a rush
Tick tock
Four's gonna brush
Tick tock
Five's outta time
Tick tock
Six's on the line
Tick tock
Seven's in the lead
Tick tock
Eight's got a bead
Tick tock
Nine's almost there
Tick tock
Ten likes to stare
Tick tock
Eleven wants to stop
Tick tock
Twelve just dropped

Technicalities

What would you if you could do anything?




















Oh, wait. *laughs out loud* You already can.

Twisted Stars

Every so often, I get the insatiable urge to walk outside in the night, sit there, and stare at the stars.

A slight monkeywrench being the fact that I live in a suburban area, well equipped with all manner of lights to better ensure the safety of its inhabitants. Thank God the moon is bright enough to overpower our fear-warders, but that's another story.

I live in an area armed to the teeth with darkness slayers, light bringers, and safety protocols because what we can't see must be bad. So we must see it. See what? There's nothing to see in the light.

There's nothing to see in the dark? The sky begs to differ. Your imagination too. Big kids grow out of fearing that which bumps in the night, right? So why all the light for the sake of our sight? Bloody blight.

If light is order and darkness is chaos, I think the scale may be a bit unbalanced.

Car accidents? Foo.

Simply

Don't let the music stop! Keep it live! Keep it free! You can feel it; I know you can!

Never say bye! Never let the music die! Feed it with your love! Feel it, with your soul!

The music is in the air! Wreathing and breathing! Ever relieving!

Simply because it is there.

A Dream

Everyone dreams whilst they slumber. While most lHook at dreams as a wonderful escape from reality, there is one place you never want to escape to.

It will never be the first. It will only appear in the middle of dreams, interrupting your bliss with a shock, but never enouEgh to wake you up...no matter how much you may wish it.

It does not matter what you were previously dreamSing of, or who you were, or even what color it was. You will find yourself as a child, with naught but the clothes on your back and a tricycle. A creaky little red tricycle. The creaking will be the first thing you notice about the dream, because it is the only sound you wCill ever, ever hear. You will be in a large field, strewn with tall hedge columns, each exactly the same distance apart, in perfect rows. Everyone wanders through this field. Even the ones who would stand are iOnexplicably...drawn in.

And then you will see him.

He will do notMhing. Nothing, but stare. An old man, dressed in a crisp black suit, derby hat, and a red bow tie, holding a silver-topped cane with both hands. He will stare. Not a single human emotion will cross his fIace. He will simply stare. Straight into your heart. With eyes of living flame. And you will be but as ice before his eternal gaze.

You will wish to run, run away from his eyes. TNhis is where the struggle begins. The man will never budge from his stance, but nor shall you.

But you must.

You musGt.



Will the man ever move? I can't say. I got out of there. But whenever I hear of missing person cases, I remember.

I remember the silver-topped cane underneath my pillow when I woke from that one dream

.

Rhythm

He said

"Don't...ignore me." She said

"Don't...forget me." He said

"Try not to hurt me." She said

"I guarantee nothing." He said

"Please don't confuse me." She said

"It isn't my fault." They said

"Don't throw it away." We said

"All together."

Mum

To see what cannot be seen, one must be unable to see what can.

Little Rhia understands this, do you? Do I?

Can't say.

Another Comparison From Twit

Life is like a roller coaster.

There's ups and downs and loop-the-loops and spirals and slows and fasts and sometimes, you just feel like you're upside down.

And you know that the worst parts always feel the longest, but they don't actually last that long, and before you know it, you're up again.

The throwing up part? You're probably just drunk.

Navigational Procedures

Take out your map.

See that big ol' X right there?

Yep.

That's where you're not going.

Wind

The wind's at your back, mate. That's all ye need, in'nit?

All ye need t' take yer life back from the depths, and sail yer own ship, off into the horizon. Ye've got yer crew, ye've got yer supplies, ye've got yer bloody ship, bless 'er heart, and ye've even got the rum. Now, have ye the guts? Have ye the fire in yer belly? The gall to go where yer fear will never guide ye?

The helm is yer's, boy. Ye've sat in the cabin long enough. 's time to take command o' yer own vessel.

Ye shan't follow the wind. The wind's followin' you, Captain.

Roses

They're waiting.

Why aren't you smelling them?

Dance

Dance

under the stars in the sky

with the full moon at your back

feeling the fire in your soul

on through the night.

Just dance.

Falling Down A Black Hole

"Oh, dearie me but I seem to be falling...can't tell where or from whence but at this rate I suppose I shall be quite dead by the time I hit the bottom.

Can't see a blasted thing, not even myself. Just dark and dark...falling and falling...haha it's a wonder I haven't fallen asleep in this dreariness. Suppose it would be less painful that way, hm?

Phoo, maybe if there was something to do, I'd do more than simply talk to myself. Nope, nope...nothing to do but fall. Wish I would. At least a dream would be something to do.

Do do do....I could sing! Sing a song...la la...sing a song about falling! Falling in a black hole! Blacker than the black of coal! In the earth just like a mole! Falling down an endless hole~!

That got old rather fast...Hm, I wonder if it's possible to swim in the air...? Hmph I shan't try. Hitting a wall is more pain than I like. I could always dive though...down into my grave! Ha!

...Ooh this is no fun. My heart isn't even racing anymore. It feels like I've been here for hours...days...Death would relieve the tedium of thi-Oomph!

Ooooh...the bottom? How in God's name am I still alive? Hm...maybe I already am dead, and a hole is my personal hell...? A hole...blast it I'll just feel around for the wall at least...something to do..do...oh!

A ladder? How remarkable...guess I'd better start climbing then."

Galactic Doors Slamming - Can You Hear Them?

"Oh, hey there. Nice of you to drop in...*chuckle*..."

*you look up at the trap door you just fell through*

"Ah...you're one of those. Bother, I do hate to explain things...but I suppose that's what I'm here for, eh? Come now, look sharp man. You see these two doors? Yes...'course you do."

*more looking, more looking...the room feels smaller somehow...*

"...No, not the ceiling, idiot. You can only go forward from here. So, which will it be? Door Number One or Door Number Two? Door Number B or Door Number A? Door Number Heads or Door Number Tails? Door Number This or Door Number That? Door Number Minie or Door Number Eenie? Door Number Right or Door Number Left? Door Number Death or Door Number Life? Heh...Door Number...what are you sitting there staring at me for, dummy? That wall isn't going to slow down just because you're in the way. Don't worry about me, I've always been able to manage when the traffic decides to be slow."

*you rise, still making your decision, but becoming understandably hastened in the undertaking*

"Oh yeah. Leave your sword here."

Love, Actually...

Love.

I have stated two times that I have been in it. The first time I realized I was wrong soon after, and the second time I was told I was wrong immediately after saying it. After reflecting upon both incidents, I have to conclude that I was a fool both times, though the second time is much more bittersweet and the first is just a bad memory.

So, obviously, I don't want to make that mistake again. But what is love? A feeling, obviously...

Feeling like you'd do anything for someone no matter what, feeling like you'd rush to their side at a moment's notice no matter what, feeling like you'd only take the bullet if there was no other option since death would hurt them too no matter what, feeling completely at ease and able to trust them with anything no matter what, feeling like nothing matters except that someone no matter what, and thinking about them all night and day..even when you don't want to....

Love's actually not that complicated...right?

Joke's On Us

It's funny.

What is order? What is chaos? Why is it that order has such a...nicer ring to it? What else is order..besides itself? Rigidity, stability, steadfastness, predictability, stubbornness, construction, conservatism, restriction? Order...always in the light of our minds, right? Being proper and all that nonsense...being polite at the very least too, I suppose.

Chaos...we humans of the world feel squeamish at the mere mention, don't we? Pardon, the orderly peoples at any rate. Others thrive on chaos, and are consequently admonished for it. Wild, destruction, liberalism, interpretation, imagination, randomosity, distractions, freedom? Could not this all be what chaos is? Such a dark connotation...but what is darkness? Not something to be feared...or hated...right?

Of course, the real joke is that they define each other. Without one, the other isn't even itself anymore. Go ahead, dance a chaotic dance under the order of the stars...and remember nothing is futile.

Hmm...

Man, I must be getting good if I'm getting requests. Dang.

But tragically, I...don't know what to write. And how can this be as perfect as I want it to be if I have no idea what I'm doing? Besides, no matter how good or bad it is, she'll probably read it and just say "...thanks William."

Hmm...

There's this girl I know, whom I shan't name for her sake. We haven't known each other very long, but I like to think we have a bond of sorts. Enough of a bond for her to ask this of me and for me to comply, at least. But this isn't about me. This is about a girl I know who happens to be a nice ray of sunshine for at least one person and who probably won't like the fact that I called her such. But too bad for her. Because she is a ray of light. Not like those perky early birds that make you want to "accidentally" spill your hot coffee as you pass, but like...a genuine source of warmth and happiness...which fits her because she's always so happy. Words are failing me right now though...or maybe I'm failing them, and her. Hm...a poem to help clear my thoughts:

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Life would suck more
If I hadn't met you

A literary masterpiece, to be sure, but nothing is too good for her. Not granny panties, or a hot pink thong, or a bathing suit that really accentuates her skin tone (in a good way, lol), or even hot pink drum sticks. And especially not butt-you know.

Give me a "b"?

Keep in Touch

So, my best friend is moving.

doubleyou-tee-eff, right?

Writing this is more than a little bitter though. I mean, the two of us haven't really spoken much lately, through no fault of his. I admit I should have made time for him, and for that I apologize (and hope he reads this without my asking it).

But an apology is but a phrase, meaningless without action to support it. So here my fingers tread along this keyboard, trying to make up for lost time. What to do, what to do...is it enough to say you're one of a kind? Hm...probably not. I'm not really sure where I'm going with this.

More relevantly though, each time I've looked at your blog, I've noticed that the most recent date is April 30th. This is unacceptable. Just because our only conversation this year existed as waves in the hall does not mean you can slack off, mister. If all I can do is keep that on track, than that's what I'll do. And don't you dare call me a hypocrite for my lacking schedule of writing.

I sat down with a purpose, but it's not coming along very well...how problematic...this sucks.

This isn't coming out how I wanted it to, so I'll try to sum it up with a poem:

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Don't forget us
'Cause we'll never forget you

The Forest Maze

Darkness, then twilight.

You see a wall of foliage before you. A grand wall of frightening proportions, so great that the sunset sky is shadowed by its sheer height. You, however, are not so taken aback by your new, grandiose surroundings to notice that you are alone. Or that there is another wall behind you. And to a side.

Without hesitation, you take a step forward. After all, just sitting there won't solve anything. There don't seem to be any instant-death traps set in the vines, so off you go, not pausing to wonder how you got there to begin with.

Night has fallen, and the walls of your prison begin to glow somehow, just enough for you to see them clearly with the light of a full moon. An eerie mist flows along the ground, swirling around your feet. Thankfully, the hedges keep any wind off, but you can't help but shiver as you sit in the soil after wandering for so very long. The silence of the night, rather than soothe, only further unnerves you. As you gaze up at the lack of stars, something dawns on you. The silence, the solitude...Other than the hedges, not a single living being can be found. Not just other people, but nothing. The word alone fully crashes down upon you as you fall back.

The mist crawls over your body, pulling you down ever so slightly. You try to close your eyes, desiring only to fall into a deep sleep...sleep...but, there is a light that pierces the misty veil. Irritated, you quickly sit up and stare at the source of the intrusion...which seems to be the moon, of all things. Funny, you don't remember it being so bright earlier...remember...ing someone. There's someone you have to get back to...that's right...Silly you. You don't have time to be lost in some maze. The mist dissipates as you rise. As you regain your bearings, you notice a black speck on the moon, but easily dismiss it, as escape is the priority. However, the growing shadow over your own is about to convince you otherwise, when something nails you squarely on the head.

Of course, nothing was going to stop you from getting out of here now, but your newfound lump insisted on you being realistic. Quickly deciding to ponder the maze after you investigate your assailant, you cautiously turn around, only to...

...*you got a flamethrower*

The greatest risk...

...is not taking one.

Sigh...Teenagers

The teenage specimen never ceases to amaze me. What other life form tries so fervently to act as an adult, and sometimes even looks like an adult, but can still retain a mind even more immature than a child's? Maybe that's too pessimistic of me. Maybe a little high and mighty, seeing as I'm a teen myself. But...

I like to think that I put others before myself.

I like to think that I'm not the center of the world.

I like to think that other people's opinions are not said world.

I'm not (the) one to say if what I think is right or not, but I know that the rose-tinted glasses have long since come off; it's hard not to notice things. How we talk behind everyone's back. What we say for no reason. What we do for no reason. What we don't do...for no reason. A guy I know said this, and I've already agreed with this forever, but I don't understand why anyone could ever think it is a good idea to hurt someone. Yet teenagers continue to commit crimes against humanity daily. It's not really a question of who's doing the backstabbing, but how deep they decide to push it in, purely on whim. And how rarely the salve of honesty is ever applied. What really bothers me though, is how little any of us actually stop and think. Think about just what the hell we're doing to ourselves. Oh, which reminds me of a more minor point: silly teens curse far too often for it to ever be taken seriously, right?

I know I'm being too pessimistic, but at the same time, I can't honestly say that I can comprehend all of this. I've begun to pride myself on being a very good judge of character, albeit unconsciously it seems. Out of all the friends I've made and people that I've allowed myself to get close to at all, I've only made the wrong choice once, and she doesn't even know it. Fitting though, in that she happens to epitomize most of my grievances with this troublesome, hormonal demographic.

However, for the sake of not beginning and ending on a negative note...again, here's something positive. Never doubt the capacity of a teenager. Capacity for anything. For all our inherent foolishness, we're capable of much more than we ever get credit for. Capable, perfectly, of that crisis-averting thought, that deep thought, always slowing things down. And capable also of the cure for this steaming pile of...yeah. Capable of love.

That's all that really matters, isn't it?

Maeinng

flower petals drift in the wind
rain lazily washes down
the sun peeks through the morning clouds
mist scatters the evershroud of time
a door opens, letting dark peek in
shall we banish it? the mist asks
the petals reach out, an odd gesture
for in this absence, the shroud returns
what to do, what to do
the mystery of life lives on

Ode to a Stranger

Roses are red
Violets are blue
You are cute
Like a button

On Leadership

What is a leader, exactly? One who leads, presumably. Right? One who ceaselessly toils in the line of duty, neglecting personal desires simply for the sake of those one leads, right? One who insists on not turning in a completely generic piece of drivel, not on the off-chance that the piece of drivel will actually be read, but because drivel, in and of itself, is silly. Surely not one who looks up the biggest, fanciest words to include in their drivel, on the off-chance that it is actually read. One who has no concept of free time, because the word free has been replaced by band.

One who stops citing ridiculous examples because they make him or her feel ridiculous.

Seriously though, leadership is not to be taken lightly. It's not some natural-born right, or just another reference for a resume, it's a privilege that, honestly, shouldn't be taken lightly. It's for people that understand the difference between being too stiff and not quite stiff enough, and can easily toe that line appropriately. But more importantly, it's for people that can get other people to follow them. Understanding the people they lead, that's key. Some of the greatest leaders in history have also been the most charismatic in history, but most, inevitably, put themselves before their followers. Many still do. The natural-born leaders are just as prone to falling apart as the uneasy. But that's not the point, is it? The point is for the leader to be there when others fall apart, and to put them back together. To lead, if you will, the whole, and prevent it from falling apart. To build such an atmosphere that, even if something does fall apart, it doesn't get anyone down. Upward thinking. Positive thinking. The kind of thinking that gets you places.

That's what a leader is.

Chains

Recently, I got to thinking about something. Not to say that I'm not normally thinking about something. Heck, it usually takes me at least half an hour to fall asleep every night cause my mind won't calm down and go to sleep. Anyway, I was thinking (and still am) about a single imperfection of the world. Just one. One that trumps all others (and boy are there others). Now I may be wrong, and I already know that some disagree, but the conclusion I arrived at was pretty simple.

There's too much hatred in the world.

Now there are other extremely negative emotions. Dante has seen to it that we are very familiar with them. Lust, Pride, Wrath, Gluttony, Sloth, Greed, and Envy. But these are base sins, an inherent part of every human being. Everyone, from the most warped psychopath to the most reverent priest, has felt at least one of these slithering beasties wrap a tendril around their beating heart. They are just as much a part of you as Honor, Faith, Compassion, Charity, Passion, Trust, and Love. Hatred, however, exists outside these. He does not have a seat at the central table. He is born like an innocent little scrape, nothing anyone thinks very much of. Time then passes, and the tiny wound slowly festers and becomes infected. More time passes, and eventually even the mightiest resistance will crumble to the disease.

Initial sin, or its more worldly counterpart of crime for the less religiously inclined, will almost always come to be as a result of the involvement of one of the cardinal Sins, but will almost always result in some form of hatred. Just like my English teachers would probably 'hate' me for writing such a wordy sentence. See, Hatred is only brought about by other actions. But what about after that? The hatred is now out in the world, just sitting there, and gets a little lonely. So it strives for more hatred. And more. Before we know it, an eternal chain is choking the world.

The natural reaction to hatred is obvious. Some may say that hate is too strong a word, but we all know the feeling, regardless of depth. But stop for a moment, and think. What would happen if we chose the unnatural reaction? As humans, we're all about doing the unnatural anyway, right? Don't give hateful acts a hateful response. I'm not saying everything should be forgiven, far from that, but we have the strength to bear it in all it's unfairness. Don't think about an eye for an eye or vengeance or any of that silly mishmash. Think about how you felt, and still feel, and think about keeping others from feeling that way. This chain may reach through the ages, adding links to itself by the hour, but it can still be broken, and that's exactly what I intend to do.

Story Time

"Welcome back, class. I hope you all had a wonderful break."

"Thank you, Teacher."

"Yes, well, I'm sure all of you are dying to talk about what you all spent that refreshing reprieve doing and not doing, but before we do anything useful...it's story time!"

"Yay!"

"Now now, calm down. This is the story of a man. A man who, as a boy, had the most wonderful upbringing. You see, his parents had paid attention to their own parents, and still believed in the proper standards that had been set way back in those olden days. It's really a shame that so few families still have such moral discipline...but silly Teacher could lose her job for telling you all such things! Anyway, no one around could claim to be the nice guy that this man was, such did he believe in doing the right thing. His friends, in particular, remembered him for this.

'Hey, can I borrow your homework? Nah, don't worry; Teach'll never catch me! You're always top of the class anyway, man! No sweat.'

'Man, check that girl out! Think I'll ask her out for a few drinks. What? You two've been going out for a couple of weeks now? C'mon man, nice guys like you always get the babes. Just take a dive for me this once, k? I'll make it up to ya, promise!'

'The boss is making his rounds. Please man, I need that promotion. I know Boss's had his eye on you...but I gotta feed my wife and kids, y'know? What...never mentioned the wedding? Slip o' the tongue, buddy. Haha, sorry.'

And so more years passed, in much the same manner. The man, slowly but surely, began to learn from his mistakes, and changes came about in his life. Positive changes, to be sure. Success. Fame. He got it all. At a cost, to be sure, but who has time for such sentiments? This man had it made. And so he lived out the rest of his days, forgetting the chains of his past, and only looking out for whom he cared most.

I hope you all see the moral of this story. The Board has been very clear about getting a point like this across...yes, Jimmy? A question?"

"Yes, Teacher...about the ending of the story..."

"Yes, go on. Don't take too long now. What do you think?"

"Screw that."

[vent]

How often do we stop to consider just what it is we are doing?

This entry merits a change in perspective. Today and yesterday in my English class, there they were: the precious little bundles of potential, sitting at their desks, reviewing in preparation for the writing portion of the Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills. They, or rather we, were going over what to do and what not to do, and thusly scanning our curious eyes over past answers to the "thought-provoking" essay questions. The quality of any given answer is ranked on a scale of 0 to 4, with a 0 being the lowest. Feeding our memories with ill-given responses is all well and good

I want to stop writing this.

Someone neglects to provide any evidence. Laughter. Someone misspells the word "beast". More laughter. Someone believes that a woman with multiple sclerosis hiked the Himalayas. The room continues to echo. Now, granted, there are always going to be people who don't care, who refuse to care. But then too are the children who try, try with all their mind and might, and still come up short. And we respond to their so-called feeble attempts with laughter. Are these people in the room with us? No. Are they aware that their best efforts are being thrown on stage before a storm of putrid tomatoes, only to be ripped apart by fools who take their gold for granted? No. Does that make it right? You can try to justify yourself...you can try to say that you're only making fun of the writing and not the person, but then you aren't only scorning their work, but their very way of thinking.

I am in no position to say anything. I laughed too. I can try to justify myself by saying I didn't laugh as long or as often, but that is no excuse (yes, I'm perfectly aware of how self-gratifying that sounds). But consider the position of the hypocrite. Is it not still better to try goodness only half the time, than bad forever?

Do you feel anything, as these words pass from my keyboard to your screen? Do you feel...bad, now that I've brought this to your attention?

I shouldn't have had to.

[/vent]

Try Again? [Yes] [No]

What happens when you give up? What happens when your troops abandon that final bastion? When you stop relighting the blown out candle? A flash. The enemy rushes in. It's all over. No second chances, it's too late for that. You made the wrong decision. You lost hope, and gave up.

Why?

Giving up is for the weak. For people that fight for things they don't believe in, or just lose faith. Don't be like that. If you believe in something, it's always worth fighting for. Always. You wouldn't believe in something not worth fighting for. So don't give up. You're better than that.

There's no such thing as not being "good" enough, or "smart" enough, or "cute" enough, or "strong" enough. That's what people say when they give up. When they can't see that there is always a way. Are you like that? Are you good enough?

That's what I thought. Now put another quarter in, kid. It's game time.

A Comparison from Twit

Confidence

It's like gas. Too much, and nobody likes you. But you'll always need some to get where you're going.

The Egg or the Chicken...?

It was a bright, sunny day. The farm animals couldn't have been happier, lazing about, going about their farm animal lives. The chicken, however, could not help but be discontent. He had heard the farmer sharing a riddle with his wife. The humans both got a good laugh out of it, and the matter was soon forgotten, lost in the mist of human worry. But for the chicken, this was no simple riddle. This was a question that may provide an answer towards his existence. As a result, he snuck out of the coop that very night, intent on solving the mystery that had plagued him throughout the day. There was only one egg left, so he would have to use extreme caution in his interrogation. The chicken entered the shed where farm animal spoils were kept and counted his chicken blessings that the room was deserted. Except for the egg.

The chicken was nervous, more nervous than he could ever remember being before (which wasn't a very long span regardless), but pressed onward, sweating his chicken sweat all the while. After hours of tortured marching, the chicken finally made it across the room, and opened his beak to ask the fateful question...

"Hold it right there, bub! Don' even think about opening that cluck-box o' yours."

The chicken was so startled, he felt sure he would have laid an egg himself, if he had been capable.

"Yeah, that's right. I know exactly what ya were gonna ask. Lemme tell ya somethin' right now: forget about it."

The chicken was becoming quite offended with this turn of events. He was supposed to be the intimidating one. He was the one who had the idea. After all, he came first.

"Oh don't go spewing your baloney to me, bub."

This was getting decidedly off-beat.

"Lemme ask ya, what difference does the silly mess make? The egg hatched, leading to the chicken. Or...the chicken laid the egg. There's the possibilities. Who cares how it happened? Will your chicken kibbles start tasting better once you know? You just wasted a wonderful day wondering about a wonder that, quite honestly, is wonderfully pointless. Don't wanna waste that chicken brain o' yours? That's fine, fine. Try looking around you then. An egg. A life yet to be lived. Endless possibility, right there, waiting to happen. Doesn't that boggle your chicken mind? Look at yourself. A life in progress. Experiences that have happened, are happening, and still waiting to happen. A work of art in progress, really. Your life is begging to be lived, boy. Get your chicken butt out there and get to it. And keep thinking about that egg. About what will happen. Possibility."

The chicken smiled a lot more after that. Kept away from eggs though.

Rites of Passage

I don't even know what to say about this. The only problem is that the marimba part vastly outweighs the other three parts except for certain sections. The vibe solo is nothing short of perfect. Or rather, the key is. I can already think of ways to change it...

http://www.tapspace.com/rop.html

I know I go to this website too much.

Finding It

Where do I want to be in twenty years?

Where do I want to be in ten?

How about five?

Two years?

Just one?

Where do I want to be in six months?

Or three.

Or one.

Where do I want to be in a week?

Tomorrow?



Happy.

Isn't that all that matters?

Is this naive?

I'll just make my own Neverland, but I won't do it alone.

The Simple Truth

It is not enough to simply say. It is not enough to simply hear. It is not enough to simply see...no, not even enough to simply do. One must go further, beyond the mere saying, or hearing, or seeing, and even the doing, and try to feel. Feel...with the heart. Cliché, to be sure, but no human being ever got anywhere by simply doing. Or rather, no human being was ever happy. Isn't that what really counts? A man can do any number of bodily exercises, and do repetition after burning repetition, but unless he stops to feel, he will only become another number on the charts of modern life. Number One, perhaps, but a number nonetheless. A woman can do all manner of mathematical calculations, and quickly rise up the monetary chain, but unless she stops to feel, the countless, countless numerals are empty. A child can achieve the very greatest of results, on a scale of zero to a hundred, becoming the envy of the crowd and the apple of his parents' eyes...but at the end of all that labor, tedium, and terrible pressure, the child is still but a number, without feeling. Without the feeling of that blazing fire burning in his belly, there can be nothing beyond the doing. But, should even the smallest of sparks fall into a kindling heart, then the smallest of lights will appear, and from that smallest of lights, the smallest of flowers will bloom. With that, the path will not quite be the smallest of paths any longer.

It's the simple truth, it is.

Believing

I'll start believing when the guns start
jamming when they go rat-a-tat-tat and the wars are
stopping over this and that and the bloody fires stop
burning in their horrible ways and the ground isn't
shaking all night and day and when we all start
talking, about why we cried and everyone starts
swallowing their pride and no one's ever
trying to get back at him and parents aren't
worrying when it starts to get dim and kids aren't
lying because they're scared and teens aren't
dying because they were dared and people aren't
starving in their own backyard because the blues are all
selling every little shard and people like me aren't
writing, that this is what it takes,
for them to believe.



But I'll stop believing
when the sun don't shine,
and our hopes don't climb,
and the love has died.

TTYSNTAWOP

or Three Things You Should Never Talk About With Other People

You all know what I'm talking about. Those forbidden fruits of the conversationalist's orchard. The mere mention of any of these topics, while almost guaranteed to give any exchange a spark (bonfire?) of life, also have the propensity to trigger wars, grudges, fistycuffs, and food fights, among other such travesties. Of course, I say almost. Most people who talk about this kind of thing hopefully have the foresight to reserve these topics for those who agree with them. It has been scientifically proven through rigorous experiments that people think highly of other people that agree with them as opposed to people who don't. More of that self-indulgence thing, eh? And then, of course, there are the people who go around shouting out their opinions on these topics for all to hear, whether they want to hear it or not, just for the juicy reactions.

These people, quite frankly, are sillies. Ignore them.

Returning to the topic at hand, we will begin our tour of the verbal no-no's with something that should be on every American's mind right now: Politics.

Also the least likely to spontaneously combust. Fans of this topic can most easily be divided into three groups. We have Republicans/Righties/Conservatives/Fetus-Lovers, Democrats/Lefties/Liberals/Fetus-Killers, and those that believe politicians should be hanged. The point is, when it comes to politics, at least half of the country is likely to be in very strong disagreement with you. This probably includes Fox News. Not much to see here otherwise.

Next up, Religion, Bringer of War. Now, don't get me wrong; religion is a fine thing. It gives us hope, joy, a justification to all the times we didn't hit somebody, and made us feel bad when we did. But then, under all the wonderful teachings these things bestow upon us, there is always the inevitable edict within every religion that denounces every other religion as being wrong, and in most cases, blasphemous. Now, it's human nature to place oneself above all others, but narrow-mindedness on this scale is just pointless. I don't see the benefit of taking a sword to my neighbor because my God is better than his god even though they're essentially the same, just with a different name. Theological arguments themselves can be extremely enlightening, but then speech comes to scream and you can't hear yourself think because two people (countries) have two different opinions.

There he is! There he is! The Great Pumpkin! This brief list was inspired by Linus van Pelt, who uttered the very same words in syndicated form. The Great Pumpkin. How often was poor Linus ridiculed for his loyal beliefs, when all the other kids wrote letters to a fat old man in a red suit? Ridiculed because they thought it was stupid, because they thought he was a fool, because they didn't understand it. Most people, not all, but most, will choose to poke fun at things they don't fully understand. They'll choose to fear it, to disdain it, to cast it out. Why? Good question. It doesn't really make that much sense. As if the effort of learning a little more about the world, or another person, isn't really worth it.

**A short disclaimer: if the contents of this entry, or the entire blog for that matter, somehow offend you, I'm very deeply sorry. This was meant to be slightly satirical in nature, so take the stick out of your butt. Also, thanks to Steffi for being the wall I bounced ideas off of for the first half of this.