Our culture is melancholy for the days that were never theirs, nostalgia dripping from every perfectly diminished Polaroid picture. Our culture wants to live the life of luxury, fame, wealth, but we crave the life of love and two bit camera tricks. We want the world to mean so much more than it does -- a 500 Days of Summer syndrome between nature and humanity.
We want summer nights driving in the car to the soft melodies of star's music, looking up to the pitch black sky to try and find the source of such longing. We live between the happy moments and the sad, the calm and the adventure, somehow between yet not accomplishing either.
Our culture longs for the things they don't have. The warm nights with lovers never quite lovely enough for the taste of a romantic, too intimate for the independent. Where is the line drawn? It surely must be dotted because we've fallen through the cracks without a map to lead us home again. The minotaur knows no sorrow compared to the labyrinth we must maneuver to reach our goal. The sphinx knows no riddle like that of the human condition.
We are contradictory. We leave behind that which is meaningful in order to feel meaning, yet desire those we've left or lost. We want to feel the anchor drop upon finding the photo of a long lost friend, the edges frayed, the filtered photo fading away, losing its inhabitants. Yet no such photo exists. It never has. Our photos are yet incomplete, and that is the feeling we are in search of. To feel incomplete. To be alive, to be loving, to be lost and lonely and craving, to be wishful, is to be incomplete.
Our culture is lustful
Our culture is lost
Our culture is longing
We are joyous
We are wistful
We are found
We are gone
We are between.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Monday, July 15, 2013
To A Dearest Friend
Yearning. It's one of the most complex creations. It begins in the feeling of desire, branching across nostalgia and melancholy to rest in its conclusion at the new flower buds created at the branch's tip. Yearning is a tree that sprouts quickly and is forever rooted, deep in the core of your chest. It feeds off of your fears, your hopes, desires, the spiders that crawl in your limbs and the sun that shines through your eyes.
Yearning appears and suddenly you're lost in memory. The years on the sand; the whispers in a dim-lit volvo; the afternoons of tea and hospitality. Then can never be now and now can never then, but with the right tune and a quiet mind you can bring back those moments with such clarity that sometimes your yearning is satiated. You've fed the beast and woke the melancholic monster hiding deeper within, and that's a monster best dealt with from a distance.
Yearning is forgotten during daylight hours. It is a vampire of the mind, sheltering itself from the comfort of sunlight and calling out to its lovers as the clock strikes midnight. Its in those late moments that yearning leaves its desire irreplaceable. A placebo here bears no warmth of ignorance. The lack of medicine burns as the infection spreads until no friends could ease the pain of yearning for that closest friend. Yet upon waking in the morning the infection has cleared, the memory erased. The vow to call is lost, or if remembered becomes the glint of electronic words sent into the air.
Yearning becomes a blog post in the late evening hours. It becomes a tree of nostalgia. It becomes a picture of silhouettes in the fading evening light. A vow to call. A letter crafted with weary eyes addressed
To A Dearest Friend,
and what was intended as just a stylistic flair in an over stylized attempt to communicate an aspect of human-ness becomes something more literal. An actual letter, slowly losing style and gaining only friendship and longing, reading:
I miss you, dearly. Though it never seems we meet for long enough, I have found you to be one of the few people I miss when I'm away, wholly and truly. I am absolutely honored and joyful to be able to call you my friend, and someone who I can rely on. Someone I can joke with, have fun with, drink tea with; someone I can be honest with, talk about deep complexities of life with, or debate symbolism with. I have no other friend nearly like you. And I am failing right now at describing what I mean completely. But as is said, these words are futile devices.
and the letter, leaving with a simple
See you soon
left so much left to be said with no way to say it, and left the yearning, the memories, the melancholy for another night, when the daylight waned again.
Yearning appears and suddenly you're lost in memory. The years on the sand; the whispers in a dim-lit volvo; the afternoons of tea and hospitality. Then can never be now and now can never then, but with the right tune and a quiet mind you can bring back those moments with such clarity that sometimes your yearning is satiated. You've fed the beast and woke the melancholic monster hiding deeper within, and that's a monster best dealt with from a distance.
Yearning is forgotten during daylight hours. It is a vampire of the mind, sheltering itself from the comfort of sunlight and calling out to its lovers as the clock strikes midnight. Its in those late moments that yearning leaves its desire irreplaceable. A placebo here bears no warmth of ignorance. The lack of medicine burns as the infection spreads until no friends could ease the pain of yearning for that closest friend. Yet upon waking in the morning the infection has cleared, the memory erased. The vow to call is lost, or if remembered becomes the glint of electronic words sent into the air.
Yearning becomes a blog post in the late evening hours. It becomes a tree of nostalgia. It becomes a picture of silhouettes in the fading evening light. A vow to call. A letter crafted with weary eyes addressed
To A Dearest Friend,
and what was intended as just a stylistic flair in an over stylized attempt to communicate an aspect of human-ness becomes something more literal. An actual letter, slowly losing style and gaining only friendship and longing, reading:
I miss you, dearly. Though it never seems we meet for long enough, I have found you to be one of the few people I miss when I'm away, wholly and truly. I am absolutely honored and joyful to be able to call you my friend, and someone who I can rely on. Someone I can joke with, have fun with, drink tea with; someone I can be honest with, talk about deep complexities of life with, or debate symbolism with. I have no other friend nearly like you. And I am failing right now at describing what I mean completely. But as is said, these words are futile devices.
and the letter, leaving with a simple
See you soon
left so much left to be said with no way to say it, and left the yearning, the memories, the melancholy for another night, when the daylight waned again.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Never Lovers Lost in the Sea
The wind whipped through the half-rolled window of the bronze jeep and wrestled his dark hair from its mold. As he drove down the overgrown road creatures of all sizes leapt from the brush that was shoved aside by the grumbling vehicle, this foreign being in the world of instincts. With reckless abandon, the beast and its inhabitants reformed the long forgotten road, a path to the edge of existence - the edge of thought and the edge of reason. When they set out on this journey, they searched for a place to get lost, though not physically. They sought a place to be lost in an absolute, lost in a nothingness. To forget about existence entirely.
This is the night they found what they were looking for.
The team alternated driving and resting, rarely settling down for long in any one location. To settle is to have found. So they slept on the road. Faith drove most often, though she was not the one to have discovered their location. It was Sane's Jeep they drove, but he was commonly found asleep in the back seat. In fact, Sane, Faith, and the third companion Rose were all asleep when the beast growled down the path. But the driver knew the way.
When the Jeep began to draw tracks in the sand, dusk was making its arrival. The creatures of day were settling into themselves for the night, while the darker unknowns hid just out of sight of prying eyes, always in the peripheral. They meant no harm. The passengers awoke as the beast shuddered to sleep, reluctant to settle into itself and see nothing to be found. Unlike the other creatures, this beast was alone.
Faith was the first to sink her toes into the sand. She walked a short distance away and sprawled herself on the cooling sand, her soft blonde hair reflecting the ideals of the sunset and her eyes closed to the world. Rose came and sat next to her, looking out over the sea and watching as the tide repeated its endless cycle, too timid to reach up to these new visitors and too interested to leave completely. Sane stood behind them, looking up at the changing sky, watching as the stars and the sun intermingled, destined to be acquainted but never lovers. The driver was the last from the vehicle. He left the keys in the ignition, and walked over to his friends, his strangers, his lovers. He let them be for a while, soaking in their existence, before saying with a smile
"Lets go"
The group looked at each other and quietly smiled. They took each others hands and were lovers on their walk to the tide's edge. As their grips loosened and their hands fell from each other they found themselves as strangers, yet strangers with impossible knowledge. They stripped from their clothes, leaving the denim, the cotton, the polyester to the creatures who made their home in the night. As Sane looked back one last time, the road they travelled down was no more, swallowed by the forest, swallowed by the darkness, swallowed by the found. The bronze beast was gone as well, its tracks leading to an absence. But that was of no concern. Nothing was of concern any longer.
They stepped out into the sea, leaving the beach behind them with their past. All that was left for them was to move forward, go farther into the ocean. And so they went.
As the sun disappeared behind the horizon, so did they. They were no longer to be seen, no longer to exist or not exist. They simply vanished on the other side of the edge, lost in the sea. Lost together.
This is the night they found what they were looking for.
The team alternated driving and resting, rarely settling down for long in any one location. To settle is to have found. So they slept on the road. Faith drove most often, though she was not the one to have discovered their location. It was Sane's Jeep they drove, but he was commonly found asleep in the back seat. In fact, Sane, Faith, and the third companion Rose were all asleep when the beast growled down the path. But the driver knew the way.
When the Jeep began to draw tracks in the sand, dusk was making its arrival. The creatures of day were settling into themselves for the night, while the darker unknowns hid just out of sight of prying eyes, always in the peripheral. They meant no harm. The passengers awoke as the beast shuddered to sleep, reluctant to settle into itself and see nothing to be found. Unlike the other creatures, this beast was alone.
Faith was the first to sink her toes into the sand. She walked a short distance away and sprawled herself on the cooling sand, her soft blonde hair reflecting the ideals of the sunset and her eyes closed to the world. Rose came and sat next to her, looking out over the sea and watching as the tide repeated its endless cycle, too timid to reach up to these new visitors and too interested to leave completely. Sane stood behind them, looking up at the changing sky, watching as the stars and the sun intermingled, destined to be acquainted but never lovers. The driver was the last from the vehicle. He left the keys in the ignition, and walked over to his friends, his strangers, his lovers. He let them be for a while, soaking in their existence, before saying with a smile
"Lets go"
The group looked at each other and quietly smiled. They took each others hands and were lovers on their walk to the tide's edge. As their grips loosened and their hands fell from each other they found themselves as strangers, yet strangers with impossible knowledge. They stripped from their clothes, leaving the denim, the cotton, the polyester to the creatures who made their home in the night. As Sane looked back one last time, the road they travelled down was no more, swallowed by the forest, swallowed by the darkness, swallowed by the found. The bronze beast was gone as well, its tracks leading to an absence. But that was of no concern. Nothing was of concern any longer.
They stepped out into the sea, leaving the beach behind them with their past. All that was left for them was to move forward, go farther into the ocean. And so they went.
As the sun disappeared behind the horizon, so did they. They were no longer to be seen, no longer to exist or not exist. They simply vanished on the other side of the edge, lost in the sea. Lost together.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
To Those Ending an Era, or Tomorrow You'll Be Gone, or What Will You Save?
It's happening. You may not be aware, or it may be what is defining your life. You may not feel anything or you may have lost the ability to feel anything because you've felt everything. Despite the combination, it is happening; you are completing an era, and it will change you. Your giddy rondo will move into the next movement and become an elegy, but unlike music you will never again revisit the era from which you depart. You may again hear a theme or motif from a treasured movement later in your symphony, but the exact expression created by the intricate weaving of your emotions during this era will never be reprieved - at least not long enough to satisfy that nostalgic craving.
So take your time. Let the taste linger before you cleanse your palate and move on. Spend time with those around you that you know you'll never see again, but more importantly spend time with those most important to you. Sometimes, it's the least expected people who leave your life. And they are the ones who will sadden you the most, once you realize. Last you remember, your best friend and you had been laughing, crying, skinny dipping in the creek, getting existential under the stars, understanding each other completely during the silences. Where did it all go? Well you see, when you left, a great divide opened up and began consuming your understanding. Playing "Let's Get Coffee and Catch Up on Life!" slowly becomes a futile attempt to grab the most important things from falling into the divide. It's like the question "What five items would you save if your house was burning down?" Except the items aren't necessarily material. I'll save the boy who took my innocence, the friend who killed himself, the glasses broken while drunkenly streaking, the album that got me through the winter, and the knowledge gained from a complete stranger you spent the day with and never saw again. But all the little bits that make up the idiosyncrasies that make you unique get burned up. So... What will you save?
At the end of an era, everything becomes symbolic. Giving your box of old toys to Goodwill becomes a metaphor for your loss of innocence. A party around a fire becomes a parting of ways, and the burning of what brought you all together. In reality, symbolism is only real in that it's human.
It's happening. And you're intensely aware. It's the beginning of summer and it's the months for goodbyes, for nostalgia, and coping. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll do things you never thought you'd do before. And you'll think about everything more than you ever have before. You may figure out, perhaps, that the question is not what will you save but what CAN you save. And whatever you find you can save, hold onto for dear life because what stays now will be some of the most important aspects of your life. And suddenly the summer is coming to a close. It was a later and its become a now and you have no idea how that happened I mean you only closed your eyes for one night didn't you? And after one more night theres only one week left and there's so much to do but doing anything makes you break down and cry into your best friends shoulder and the moving van is all packed, hey do you think we could get some coffee I need energy and I leave soon? Now. Tomorrow. better hurry. Say goodbye to family, say goodbye to best friends, goodbyes to friends and acquaintances who will completely fall into the divide themselves. Say goodbye to your bed and your dog and the tree you would climb and read in back when you were young and innocent. What do you mean that was only a month ago? i'm leaving, no time for memories now, unless we're making them. memory making machines, set precariously on the edge of the divide. be careful not to fall in.
Tomorrow you'll be gone. we'll all be gone, won't we? no one left... hey I was literally just about to call you, i really need to see you. okay perfect, let's get coffee. I need energy, just put the last box into the car. yeah we leave tomorrow afternoon. so i need coffee because i dont want to close my eyes again. Let's not close our eyes together. see you soon.
I know, and youll let me know next time youre back in town right? hug me tight please or i wont make it. I'm going to fall asleep again soon, I can tell. I don't want to, but I'm going to. Tomorrow will be my last day awake for a while. oh wait i mean today, i need to go now or we'll be late... i cant do this i can't say goodbye please don't leave me. I know you're not leaving me i'll always be here too just for you...
I'll see you soon.
And you watch out the back window as you leave them behind, waving, the tears hidden in the shine of the sun. You pass the places you've always known and you'll always remember. And even though you may return, they won't be the same place anymore. Your friends won't be the same people. The sun won't have the same shine and the tears won't have the same weight. It's always the unexpected. It's always the most painful. Changing and forgetting - these are the hardest of it all......
Yeah, I remember that! Oh god, that day was perfect. And then when we went down to the lighthouse and watched the tide roll out and the sun go down? I miss those days. Eh this coffee is a bit burned. My friend at college loves burned coffee and I don't understand. Yeah, I broke up with Erik... it was about a month ago or so. I met this other guy and it really made me realize, you know?, that like I wasn't getting what I wanted out of life and I needed to change things. Get back to where I was last summer. Yeah! Oh this scar? It was stupid really, i was like running around and a friend from college bumped me with her car and I fell onto a curb. Hahaha it wasn't so bad but ya know?
Yeah, I've really missed you too. So much. I remember leaving... like it was yesterday. Wait wasn't it? I think I'm waking up again. huh? what'd you say? Ohh yeah, you're so right. Well, anyway.....
What have you saved?
So take your time. Let the taste linger before you cleanse your palate and move on. Spend time with those around you that you know you'll never see again, but more importantly spend time with those most important to you. Sometimes, it's the least expected people who leave your life. And they are the ones who will sadden you the most, once you realize. Last you remember, your best friend and you had been laughing, crying, skinny dipping in the creek, getting existential under the stars, understanding each other completely during the silences. Where did it all go? Well you see, when you left, a great divide opened up and began consuming your understanding. Playing "Let's Get Coffee and Catch Up on Life!" slowly becomes a futile attempt to grab the most important things from falling into the divide. It's like the question "What five items would you save if your house was burning down?" Except the items aren't necessarily material. I'll save the boy who took my innocence, the friend who killed himself, the glasses broken while drunkenly streaking, the album that got me through the winter, and the knowledge gained from a complete stranger you spent the day with and never saw again. But all the little bits that make up the idiosyncrasies that make you unique get burned up. So... What will you save?
At the end of an era, everything becomes symbolic. Giving your box of old toys to Goodwill becomes a metaphor for your loss of innocence. A party around a fire becomes a parting of ways, and the burning of what brought you all together. In reality, symbolism is only real in that it's human.
It's happening. And you're intensely aware. It's the beginning of summer and it's the months for goodbyes, for nostalgia, and coping. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll do things you never thought you'd do before. And you'll think about everything more than you ever have before. You may figure out, perhaps, that the question is not what will you save but what CAN you save. And whatever you find you can save, hold onto for dear life because what stays now will be some of the most important aspects of your life. And suddenly the summer is coming to a close. It was a later and its become a now and you have no idea how that happened I mean you only closed your eyes for one night didn't you? And after one more night theres only one week left and there's so much to do but doing anything makes you break down and cry into your best friends shoulder and the moving van is all packed, hey do you think we could get some coffee I need energy and I leave soon? Now. Tomorrow. better hurry. Say goodbye to family, say goodbye to best friends, goodbyes to friends and acquaintances who will completely fall into the divide themselves. Say goodbye to your bed and your dog and the tree you would climb and read in back when you were young and innocent. What do you mean that was only a month ago? i'm leaving, no time for memories now, unless we're making them. memory making machines, set precariously on the edge of the divide. be careful not to fall in.
Tomorrow you'll be gone. we'll all be gone, won't we? no one left... hey I was literally just about to call you, i really need to see you. okay perfect, let's get coffee. I need energy, just put the last box into the car. yeah we leave tomorrow afternoon. so i need coffee because i dont want to close my eyes again. Let's not close our eyes together. see you soon.
I know, and youll let me know next time youre back in town right? hug me tight please or i wont make it. I'm going to fall asleep again soon, I can tell. I don't want to, but I'm going to. Tomorrow will be my last day awake for a while. oh wait i mean today, i need to go now or we'll be late... i cant do this i can't say goodbye please don't leave me. I know you're not leaving me i'll always be here too just for you...
I'll see you soon.
And you watch out the back window as you leave them behind, waving, the tears hidden in the shine of the sun. You pass the places you've always known and you'll always remember. And even though you may return, they won't be the same place anymore. Your friends won't be the same people. The sun won't have the same shine and the tears won't have the same weight. It's always the unexpected. It's always the most painful. Changing and forgetting - these are the hardest of it all......
Yeah, I remember that! Oh god, that day was perfect. And then when we went down to the lighthouse and watched the tide roll out and the sun go down? I miss those days. Eh this coffee is a bit burned. My friend at college loves burned coffee and I don't understand. Yeah, I broke up with Erik... it was about a month ago or so. I met this other guy and it really made me realize, you know?, that like I wasn't getting what I wanted out of life and I needed to change things. Get back to where I was last summer. Yeah! Oh this scar? It was stupid really, i was like running around and a friend from college bumped me with her car and I fell onto a curb. Hahaha it wasn't so bad but ya know?
Yeah, I've really missed you too. So much. I remember leaving... like it was yesterday. Wait wasn't it? I think I'm waking up again. huh? what'd you say? Ohh yeah, you're so right. Well, anyway.....
What have you saved?
Friday, May 25, 2012
Existential
We live in a cloud. We get caught up in the fictional, dedicate our hearts to objects that can never love. And in the cloud we can’t see the darkness of death ahead - the absolute abyss of nothingness afterwards. What’s the point of it all when in the end we disappear in nonexistence? We can only serve to benefit others once we’re gone, so why are we such selfish beings? The finality of existence is one of the most frightening things, and it’s inevitable. So why not make it worth something.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Consolidate
It starts out as a friendly group activity. You invite a dozen of your friends to go on a night hike up a nearby ridge. It'll be fun and athletic and everyone will have a great time. But it's an hour before the hike was set to begin, and the last person falls out. One has to work the next morning, one's too tired, one's got an injured ankle, others have no reason at all.
So you go it alone.
You pack a bag. Extra sweater, water, flashlight. You go out to your car and begin the drive to the trail head, just a bit agitated about the situation, but determined to make some use of the evening. It will be fun, even if you're all alone.
You park the car and begin hiking, along moonlit paths and past shadow-ridden orchards. It's all a bit spooky, but the flashlight lends it's beam of comfort, and you trek onwards. Up, up the slope, you make random noises to scare off animals and start playing your music. The music that finds comfort in loneliness.
The cold wind bites at your face as you climb higher, looking up to the stars and the full moon, shrouded in thin clouds. As you reach the crest, you turn around and see the whole valley laid out before you - the lights that form the town glimmer, the monotonous red lights flashing from the wind farm, the cloud bank marching in over the distant hillside.
You start to cry. Standing there, on the ridge, you start to cry, the tears freezing as they run down your face, with your comfortably lonely music and the stars and the valley and the full moon and the sound of the brush as it plays in the breeze.
And suddenly it all collides. The past, and the future. Who you were, and who you will be. Where we once were meets where we will be. It has never been like this before. Always it's just been fragments of the past, imaginings of the future, together making you as you are now. But on that ridge, the tears start as you suddenly realize the world.
As you realize yourself.
It's not just that we're incredibly tiny in this universe of ours. It's that we're tiny and alone. Tiny, alone, and incomprehensible. It's said that we can not fully understand others - not without actually being them. We imagine others as a mix of what we have experienced of them, what we expect of them, and how we relate to them. But really the problem is: how can we understand others when we do not understand ourselves? How do we understand others when they don't understand themselves?
And yet, that's not even it. As you stand high on the ridge you contemplate everything, and you come to a realization.
As you start the hike down the ridge, you try and cope with this fullness of self - but you can't. Even as you begin to embrace it, you begin leaking away again until you're back to your fragmented self. And you can't help but start to run. Run not out of fear, and not of a desire to be anywhere sooner, but rather because there is no other option. You are incapable of not running, and you don't truly know why. As you approach the shadows once again, you realize that what people fear is not the dark. It's not the shadows, or monsters. What people fear is life.
You sit in the car, having run all the way back, and stare blankly. What are you to do? Where are you to go when your past, present, and future have collided? You go back to the beginning.
You call your parents.
We're all alone in this world. We barely have the capacity to understand ourselves, let alone others. Too often we find ourselves clinging to friends or lovers as a source of entertainment - assuming them a constant. And when they've finally made their leave of us, we no longer have that rock, that source of comfort and consistency. In the end, there is only one constant: yourself.
As I stood on the ridge, I realized: life is what you make it. All life, not just your own. The world is yours to craft. And all along, humanity has been asking the wrong questions, and thus looking for the wrong answers.
In truth, there is no answer to the meaning of life. But that, you see, is because there's no question to begin with.
So you go it alone.
You pack a bag. Extra sweater, water, flashlight. You go out to your car and begin the drive to the trail head, just a bit agitated about the situation, but determined to make some use of the evening. It will be fun, even if you're all alone.
You park the car and begin hiking, along moonlit paths and past shadow-ridden orchards. It's all a bit spooky, but the flashlight lends it's beam of comfort, and you trek onwards. Up, up the slope, you make random noises to scare off animals and start playing your music. The music that finds comfort in loneliness.
The cold wind bites at your face as you climb higher, looking up to the stars and the full moon, shrouded in thin clouds. As you reach the crest, you turn around and see the whole valley laid out before you - the lights that form the town glimmer, the monotonous red lights flashing from the wind farm, the cloud bank marching in over the distant hillside.
You start to cry. Standing there, on the ridge, you start to cry, the tears freezing as they run down your face, with your comfortably lonely music and the stars and the valley and the full moon and the sound of the brush as it plays in the breeze.
And suddenly it all collides. The past, and the future. Who you were, and who you will be. Where we once were meets where we will be. It has never been like this before. Always it's just been fragments of the past, imaginings of the future, together making you as you are now. But on that ridge, the tears start as you suddenly realize the world.
As you realize yourself.
It's not just that we're incredibly tiny in this universe of ours. It's that we're tiny and alone. Tiny, alone, and incomprehensible. It's said that we can not fully understand others - not without actually being them. We imagine others as a mix of what we have experienced of them, what we expect of them, and how we relate to them. But really the problem is: how can we understand others when we do not understand ourselves? How do we understand others when they don't understand themselves?
And yet, that's not even it. As you stand high on the ridge you contemplate everything, and you come to a realization.
As you start the hike down the ridge, you try and cope with this fullness of self - but you can't. Even as you begin to embrace it, you begin leaking away again until you're back to your fragmented self. And you can't help but start to run. Run not out of fear, and not of a desire to be anywhere sooner, but rather because there is no other option. You are incapable of not running, and you don't truly know why. As you approach the shadows once again, you realize that what people fear is not the dark. It's not the shadows, or monsters. What people fear is life.
You sit in the car, having run all the way back, and stare blankly. What are you to do? Where are you to go when your past, present, and future have collided? You go back to the beginning.
You call your parents.
We're all alone in this world. We barely have the capacity to understand ourselves, let alone others. Too often we find ourselves clinging to friends or lovers as a source of entertainment - assuming them a constant. And when they've finally made their leave of us, we no longer have that rock, that source of comfort and consistency. In the end, there is only one constant: yourself.
As I stood on the ridge, I realized: life is what you make it. All life, not just your own. The world is yours to craft. And all along, humanity has been asking the wrong questions, and thus looking for the wrong answers.
In truth, there is no answer to the meaning of life. But that, you see, is because there's no question to begin with.
Monday, April 9, 2012
The Friend High
There is a curious phenomenon. It happens all too rarely, which is rather a sad thing. And I believe that fewer people experience it than you would expect, which is also incredibly sad because it is one of the most wonderful things.
It's a feeling. A rush. It's incomprehensible. I call it a Friend High. It's the sudden realization that you have the most amazing friend(s) you could have ever asked for. It usually strikes at completely random times, and it can be debilitating. You suddenly realize that you absolutely love your friends, and always have and always will. These are the friends you will NEVER lose, no matter what happens. You can't afford to.
These are the friends who understand your brain. They understand your heart. And they still like you despite your faults. They, of course, have none whatsoever or if they do you're completely blind to them. And it's perfect that way, and you would love them even if you discovered these faults.
With this Friend High comes the intense desire to relay to your friends your feelings for them. This is, of course, impossible. That's the nature of the Friend High. Even when you try to put it into words, it gets all garbled and doesn't come out right.
So this is my attempt. This post is for you. Because if you're reading this, chances are pretty high that I have felt this Friend High towards you more than once. Because you are not only an amazing friend, but an amazing human being.
Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for always being there. But most of all, thank you for being you. I wouldn't have it any other way.
It's a feeling. A rush. It's incomprehensible. I call it a Friend High. It's the sudden realization that you have the most amazing friend(s) you could have ever asked for. It usually strikes at completely random times, and it can be debilitating. You suddenly realize that you absolutely love your friends, and always have and always will. These are the friends you will NEVER lose, no matter what happens. You can't afford to.
These are the friends who understand your brain. They understand your heart. And they still like you despite your faults. They, of course, have none whatsoever or if they do you're completely blind to them. And it's perfect that way, and you would love them even if you discovered these faults.
With this Friend High comes the intense desire to relay to your friends your feelings for them. This is, of course, impossible. That's the nature of the Friend High. Even when you try to put it into words, it gets all garbled and doesn't come out right.
So this is my attempt. This post is for you. Because if you're reading this, chances are pretty high that I have felt this Friend High towards you more than once. Because you are not only an amazing friend, but an amazing human being.
Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for always being there. But most of all, thank you for being you. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Fuck Reason
So I'm a bit of a pushover. At least in the things I really care about - which is kind of backwards when you think about it. You're supposed to be assertive about the things that matter and let everything else sort of happen. Right?
In hindsight I always find that I have more to say. I think it's rather typical for people to feel this way, but I don't think quite to the same extent. It's almost like I read into what the other person wants, what they expect, what they hope for, and then comply. But it leaves so much for me to feel later, that as a result then goes unsaid.
So I'll say something now:
Looking back, I shouldn't have let things go so easily. Forgiveness and understanding was what you hoped I would give you, and thus that's what I provided. Revisiting the whole situation, I'd have much more to say on the matter. I wish you could understand how I feel about it now, instead of only knowing how I was then.
Looking back, I should have been more straightforward. It was expected that I accept what you said as truth, but I should have probed more. I mean, maybe you would have understood sooner had I questioned you. But I'm not really caught up on it anymore. I was for longer than I should have been, but I'd rather like to be friends.
Looking back, I should have said everything I felt. You had valid reasons and you made sense, and I think that's what I hated most. I didn't want you (or myself) to feel like I was trying to persuade you into it, but I should have said far more than I did. I certainly had more to say. And maybe I'll find a way to tell you all of it soon. But I think the main thing I feel in this case is: fuck reason. Reason sucks. The times in my life when I go against reason are most often the times that I find the most enjoyable and rewarding. So, maybe I'm biased, but I think everyone needs to have a bit of time in their life when they take logic and reason, tie them together, and throw them out the window of your car while flying down the freeway - let your emotions and your gut take the wheel and drive you on a journey with an unknown destination.
Because fuck reason.
In hindsight I always find that I have more to say. I think it's rather typical for people to feel this way, but I don't think quite to the same extent. It's almost like I read into what the other person wants, what they expect, what they hope for, and then comply. But it leaves so much for me to feel later, that as a result then goes unsaid.
So I'll say something now:
Looking back, I shouldn't have let things go so easily. Forgiveness and understanding was what you hoped I would give you, and thus that's what I provided. Revisiting the whole situation, I'd have much more to say on the matter. I wish you could understand how I feel about it now, instead of only knowing how I was then.
Looking back, I should have been more straightforward. It was expected that I accept what you said as truth, but I should have probed more. I mean, maybe you would have understood sooner had I questioned you. But I'm not really caught up on it anymore. I was for longer than I should have been, but I'd rather like to be friends.
Looking back, I should have said everything I felt. You had valid reasons and you made sense, and I think that's what I hated most. I didn't want you (or myself) to feel like I was trying to persuade you into it, but I should have said far more than I did. I certainly had more to say. And maybe I'll find a way to tell you all of it soon. But I think the main thing I feel in this case is: fuck reason. Reason sucks. The times in my life when I go against reason are most often the times that I find the most enjoyable and rewarding. So, maybe I'm biased, but I think everyone needs to have a bit of time in their life when they take logic and reason, tie them together, and throw them out the window of your car while flying down the freeway - let your emotions and your gut take the wheel and drive you on a journey with an unknown destination.
Because fuck reason.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
-Waiting and Waiting-
Waiting
Waiting and Waiting
The dusting of the moon slowly spreading across the Earth's soft hips
Its hair flowing gloriously towards a far off waterfall
All is silent
Silent Still
Until
The murmuring of the words desired, falling upon future ears
Or is it
The soft whispering of destruction
Falling Fast
The Earth comes crashing, shattering
And then silence.
Silence until
A prospect. An idea, spoken to baited breath
That may the sun bring to the dusting of the night
And call forth sweet Spring
Or yet may forever cast away the warmth
And leave all shrouded in Black Velvet
And yet
Only the Fates can recall the weaving of their tanged skein
For the rest there is Waiting
Waiting and Waiting
Waiting and Waiting
The dusting of the moon slowly spreading across the Earth's soft hips
Its hair flowing gloriously towards a far off waterfall
All is silent
Silent Still
Until
The murmuring of the words desired, falling upon future ears
Or is it
The soft whispering of destruction
Falling Fast
The Earth comes crashing, shattering
And then silence.
Silence until
A prospect. An idea, spoken to baited breath
That may the sun bring to the dusting of the night
And call forth sweet Spring
Or yet may forever cast away the warmth
And leave all shrouded in Black Velvet
And yet
Only the Fates can recall the weaving of their tanged skein
For the rest there is Waiting
Waiting and Waiting
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Time for Adventure
So, there's been a question floating around recently. I can't seem to find a solid answer to it... So I'll ask you:
Do you start something you know has an end date? Something that, when it ends, will hurt an incredible amount?
My first response is yes of course. Life is experience, memories, and emotions. Why deny any one of those? They are what we build our personalities out of, and what teach us how to grow. Not to mention the fact that, essentially, everything carries with it an end date, even if that end date is marked by your own death. The only thing that has really changed is the fact that you know roughly when the time will come for things to end. And I think "I can handle that, it would all be worth it." And it very much is, and would be.
But there's no denying there will be pain. Laying here imagining the arrival of the end brings more than the comforting melancholy of evening thoughts. It brings a sadness. If the prospect of the end is already this muting, can already cause this hollow feeling, it's hard to figure how much worse it could be when it's finally time.
But of course what's life without living? Of course it'll all go through. After all, the pains in life are the proof that we're alive. Without pain there couldn't be true happiness, true euphoria. Isn't that one of the things about drug addiction? And without life there couldn't be death. Everything can be a metaphor for death.
So the pain will be put off to the future. Now is the time for adventure, enjoyment, fulfillment, and intrigue. I'm off to the safari. I'll try to send you a postcard if I get a chance.
Do you start something you know has an end date? Something that, when it ends, will hurt an incredible amount?
My first response is yes of course. Life is experience, memories, and emotions. Why deny any one of those? They are what we build our personalities out of, and what teach us how to grow. Not to mention the fact that, essentially, everything carries with it an end date, even if that end date is marked by your own death. The only thing that has really changed is the fact that you know roughly when the time will come for things to end. And I think "I can handle that, it would all be worth it." And it very much is, and would be.
But there's no denying there will be pain. Laying here imagining the arrival of the end brings more than the comforting melancholy of evening thoughts. It brings a sadness. If the prospect of the end is already this muting, can already cause this hollow feeling, it's hard to figure how much worse it could be when it's finally time.
But of course what's life without living? Of course it'll all go through. After all, the pains in life are the proof that we're alive. Without pain there couldn't be true happiness, true euphoria. Isn't that one of the things about drug addiction? And without life there couldn't be death. Everything can be a metaphor for death.
So the pain will be put off to the future. Now is the time for adventure, enjoyment, fulfillment, and intrigue. I'm off to the safari. I'll try to send you a postcard if I get a chance.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
New Beginnings
Things change constantly. The world is never ending change.
The thing is, you never really know what comes after. Like the transition from life to death, what comes after is shrouded in speculation and best guesses. You may have faith that the things in your life will turn out one way, but you won't truly know what will happen until after the fact. Will you?
And then things afterwards are so different than you expected them to be. For a little while, you form the world to your expectations. You live in a world of partial non-reality. But your perception breaks, and you realize that things aren't quite what was expected. The world is brighter than your speculation. The world is messier, and darker, and ever more changing.
Once your world has shifted, it's time to find new constants - new stars in the sky to map and comfort yourself with. For some, this is the hardest part. We aren't all born astronomers. Some turn to the darkest places, while some search in the past to find their new points in the sky. You find constants that you thought had disappeared.
But most unexpectedly, you find constants from the unknown. You're introduced to someone new, and suddenly the days go by in such a blur you never thought possible. And you're happy again. You realize that things in the past weren't quite as you remembered, and you find comfort in this.
There's comfort in new worlds. Unexplored realms, new friends, new ideas. And you find yourself thinking:
"I never want this to change..."
The thing is, you never really know what comes after. Like the transition from life to death, what comes after is shrouded in speculation and best guesses. You may have faith that the things in your life will turn out one way, but you won't truly know what will happen until after the fact. Will you?
And then things afterwards are so different than you expected them to be. For a little while, you form the world to your expectations. You live in a world of partial non-reality. But your perception breaks, and you realize that things aren't quite what was expected. The world is brighter than your speculation. The world is messier, and darker, and ever more changing.
Once your world has shifted, it's time to find new constants - new stars in the sky to map and comfort yourself with. For some, this is the hardest part. We aren't all born astronomers. Some turn to the darkest places, while some search in the past to find their new points in the sky. You find constants that you thought had disappeared.
But most unexpectedly, you find constants from the unknown. You're introduced to someone new, and suddenly the days go by in such a blur you never thought possible. And you're happy again. You realize that things in the past weren't quite as you remembered, and you find comfort in this.
There's comfort in new worlds. Unexplored realms, new friends, new ideas. And you find yourself thinking:
"I never want this to change..."
Monday, November 14, 2011
This Autumn Mind
I thought I'd see your face by now. It's been so long, I hardly even remember it. Parts of you are still here though - the little freckle by your nose, the way your cheeks crumple when you smile, the way your eyes can pierce through a soul. Sometimes, I imagine that you're here next to me holding my hand, and it's almost like I can feel it. Like some piece of you has traveled all this way to me just to hold my hand while I cry at my favorite movie, and drift off to the whispers of Frank Sinatra and Julie London.
I still have those records you lent me, by the way. They're perched on the highest shelf, next to the feathers and flowers from so long ago. I've deemed it my shelf of remembrance. I catch myself quite often peering off into the distance beyond this little corner, caught in a stream of Nostalgia. Surely you remember those days - the ones filled with rose petals on water and stick races beneath the bridge. Those glorious days in the age of the Sun.
It's late autumn now, and those feeble leaves that cling so desperately to their branches are doomed to fall. I'm sure you're aware of this, being as perceptive as you are. We used to lay under such trees, watching the hours pass until the fateful moments when the leaves would let go and float down to their final resting place. I always knew I was one of those leaves.
We spend so much of our lives just passing time, in order to forget how fast time is passing. For now, the leaves are falling, and the trees are losing those most dear to them, and the world is going silent. But just wait a few moments. You'll find the sounds of life begin to return. You'll find the grass discover it's rich color. And you'll see the trees regain their lost friends.
I know I'll see your face soon. I'll see that little freckle, smile at your crumpling cheeks, and be pierced once again by those wondrous eyes. You see, i'm just getting caught up in this Autumn mind, and soon enough I'll discover the glory that rests in the depths of the mind of Spring. I'll feel the warmth of your hands once again, this I know for sure.
But for now, I'll settle for those moments of Nostalgia. They'll keep me warm while I wait.
I still have those records you lent me, by the way. They're perched on the highest shelf, next to the feathers and flowers from so long ago. I've deemed it my shelf of remembrance. I catch myself quite often peering off into the distance beyond this little corner, caught in a stream of Nostalgia. Surely you remember those days - the ones filled with rose petals on water and stick races beneath the bridge. Those glorious days in the age of the Sun.
It's late autumn now, and those feeble leaves that cling so desperately to their branches are doomed to fall. I'm sure you're aware of this, being as perceptive as you are. We used to lay under such trees, watching the hours pass until the fateful moments when the leaves would let go and float down to their final resting place. I always knew I was one of those leaves.
We spend so much of our lives just passing time, in order to forget how fast time is passing. For now, the leaves are falling, and the trees are losing those most dear to them, and the world is going silent. But just wait a few moments. You'll find the sounds of life begin to return. You'll find the grass discover it's rich color. And you'll see the trees regain their lost friends.
I know I'll see your face soon. I'll see that little freckle, smile at your crumpling cheeks, and be pierced once again by those wondrous eyes. You see, i'm just getting caught up in this Autumn mind, and soon enough I'll discover the glory that rests in the depths of the mind of Spring. I'll feel the warmth of your hands once again, this I know for sure.
But for now, I'll settle for those moments of Nostalgia. They'll keep me warm while I wait.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Winter Madness
Winter is a time of stress.
For the High School seniors, it's time for college apps. Getting those letters of recommendation, finding the schools you like, figuring out what you want to do with your life, and (maybe hardest of all) writing your personal statement.
For the college sophomore who is applying to transfer, there's all of this plus a few extra essays and reports to send in, as well as current year classes to figure out. (How do I finish my basic requirements? Should I take overload credits to do photography or would that be suicide? And if I do take it, should I take the 8am math class to accommodate it, or let the two classes cut half an hour out of each other twice a week? Should I take the 183 level chemistry, even though I haven't been in chem for two years, or would that also be suicide? There's been more of these questions in the last few hours than I'd ever imagined were possible)
For those with seasonal depression, well.... they're not exactly happy about these coming months.
Then there's the burden of the consumer nature that Christmas has adopted, buying just the right gift for the right person, in some cases spending money you really shouldn't be spending. Maybe I'll be more creative this year...
It seems rather contradictory that such a seemingly calm season should be so hectic. The thought of slowly falling snow late at night, the soft chill of the winter breeze, bundling up in blankets and sweaters in a warm house, maybe even next to a fire. It's such a relaxing thought. And the music that I relate to winter (besides holiday music) has such a calming, quiet nature- the kind of song you might fall asleep to, or contemplate the world while listening to.
And yet, in reality there's people working hard, fretting about the future, and generally being driven insane by the worldand christmas music. There are long shopping trips and worrying that you haven't gotten that person a gift yet. There's just general worrying!
So, I give you a task for this winter. During a time you're feeling especially stressed, or get caught up with tons work, or you're starting to go insane - Stop. Take a break and grab your iPod. Gear up in your warmest winter clothes. Put on the most peaceful playlist you may have ever created, and take a walk. Venture out into the world. Forget all your worries- forget even that you have an existence besides in that moment.
Let Winter take you away, if only for a little while.
For the High School seniors, it's time for college apps. Getting those letters of recommendation, finding the schools you like, figuring out what you want to do with your life, and (maybe hardest of all) writing your personal statement.
For the college sophomore who is applying to transfer, there's all of this plus a few extra essays and reports to send in, as well as current year classes to figure out. (How do I finish my basic requirements? Should I take overload credits to do photography or would that be suicide? And if I do take it, should I take the 8am math class to accommodate it, or let the two classes cut half an hour out of each other twice a week? Should I take the 183 level chemistry, even though I haven't been in chem for two years, or would that also be suicide? There's been more of these questions in the last few hours than I'd ever imagined were possible)
For those with seasonal depression, well.... they're not exactly happy about these coming months.
Then there's the burden of the consumer nature that Christmas has adopted, buying just the right gift for the right person, in some cases spending money you really shouldn't be spending. Maybe I'll be more creative this year...
It seems rather contradictory that such a seemingly calm season should be so hectic. The thought of slowly falling snow late at night, the soft chill of the winter breeze, bundling up in blankets and sweaters in a warm house, maybe even next to a fire. It's such a relaxing thought. And the music that I relate to winter (besides holiday music) has such a calming, quiet nature- the kind of song you might fall asleep to, or contemplate the world while listening to.
And yet, in reality there's people working hard, fretting about the future, and generally being driven insane by the world
So, I give you a task for this winter. During a time you're feeling especially stressed, or get caught up with tons work, or you're starting to go insane - Stop. Take a break and grab your iPod. Gear up in your warmest winter clothes. Put on the most peaceful playlist you may have ever created, and take a walk. Venture out into the world. Forget all your worries- forget even that you have an existence besides in that moment.
Let Winter take you away, if only for a little while.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
And At Once I Knew
I just wanted to take a moment to show you this. Below is a music video for Bon Iver's song Holocene. I honestly think it's the only music video I've ever seen where the beauty of the video is perfectly translated from the beauty in the song. They both feel so wondrous, and so lonely. It gives that feeling where you're not sure if you should smile at it's perfectness or cry at it's sadness and honesty. And the lyrics... "And at once I knew, I was not magnificent..."
I simply cannot describe my feelings. So instead, I'll show you:
I simply cannot describe my feelings. So instead, I'll show you:
Also, I want his sweater really badly.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Sometimes
Sometimes, it feels like the world slips away. You watch yourself having a conversation with someone, walking, pointing at something that excites you. But it's not you really, it's something that's taken your place while you float around in a sort of nothingness.
Where have you gone?
Sometimes, you find yourself back in reality. But you never realized you were gone. No time has gone by at all, and yet it's been an hour, a day. You look back and have all these memories of where you've been, the things you've seen and done. But you didn't do them. It was a placebo-you, filling in. It's almost like a vacation from life itself.
But you don't always want that vacation.
Sometimes you can feel the breeze on your skin, the cold nip at your face, hear the leaves rustle. It's the place where the leaves fall like snow. The place you never knew could have beauty, innocent beauty, until you were able to see the flaws of the world. Until the reservoir of sea water sprung a leak. Until you found yourself on your back looking up into the blackened sky, and watched those leaves that fell like snow.
Sometimes you wonder to yourself where you've been all this time. You don't understand yourself anymore, there's no logic to you.
Sometimes there can't be logic. It's nothing but rawness. Numbness.
And sometimes the world comes crashing in.
And sometimes there's nothing to do. Nothing to do but make a pile of those leaves, and fall asleep.
Where have you gone?
Sometimes, you find yourself back in reality. But you never realized you were gone. No time has gone by at all, and yet it's been an hour, a day. You look back and have all these memories of where you've been, the things you've seen and done. But you didn't do them. It was a placebo-you, filling in. It's almost like a vacation from life itself.
But you don't always want that vacation.
Sometimes you can feel the breeze on your skin, the cold nip at your face, hear the leaves rustle. It's the place where the leaves fall like snow. The place you never knew could have beauty, innocent beauty, until you were able to see the flaws of the world. Until the reservoir of sea water sprung a leak. Until you found yourself on your back looking up into the blackened sky, and watched those leaves that fell like snow.
Sometimes you wonder to yourself where you've been all this time. You don't understand yourself anymore, there's no logic to you.
Sometimes there can't be logic. It's nothing but rawness. Numbness.
And sometimes the world comes crashing in.
And sometimes there's nothing to do. Nothing to do but make a pile of those leaves, and fall asleep.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Seven Swans
Inspired by Sufjan Steven’s “Seven Swans”
“Billie! Billie come quick!”
I could hear my mother run down the hall to her bedroom to wake my father.
I looked across the room to where my sister was slowly waking. An orange glow came through the window bathing her and the angel mural my mother had painted at my birth in unfelt warmth. I got up from my bed and cracked the door, watching my father run by frantic and down the stairs. My sister came up to me, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. I put my finger to my lips, telling her to be quiet. As we went down the stairs I could hear my mother sobbing and yelling at my father.
“This is your fault!”
“Christine…”
“No! Don’t you dare! This wouldn’t’ve happened if you would just do what’s expected of you...”
My mother trailed off as she saw my little sister and I watching from the open sliding door. My father stood with hunched shoulders over the flames as my mother came over to us, scooping up my sister and putting her hand on my shoulder. We stayed that way for a while, watching the fire burn its message into the earth. The light felt so invasive as it cast shadows into the woods and outlined my father as he stood before it.
I broke away from my mother’s touch and ran up to my father, stopping by his side. I looked up at him and felt the pain in his face as he shifted his gaze to me. He treated the flame as if it were the open casket of a man he did not know. I reached up and took his hand in mine. There, with my father, I tried to understand the meaning of the word that was burning into our family’s backyard. The word that would cause my mother to look into my father’s face with such disdain.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t understand why someone would go so far to deliver the message. It simply read:
“Sinner”
I heard the sound of birds from the wood behind the house, and watched as they flew overhead. Seven swans, tainted by the glare of the fire. They were gone after a few moments, and the rest of the family didn’t seem to notice them. As they disappeared over the house, I heard a voice in the back of my mind. It said:
“I’ll try, I’ll try… I’ll try”
The sun shone through the living room window as I sat on the couch reading the book my father had given me earlier that week. I could hear my parents arguing from their room. Their muffled voices felt as if they would rip me apart. There was a slammed door, heavy footsteps, and my father appeared from the stairwell. He stopped and stood motionless, looking at me. I looked back. He set down the large bag he held and motioned for me to come to him. I could see him starting to cry, and I didn’t understand.
He bent down to me and put a hand on my shoulder.
“I… I’ve got to go away for a bit honey.” He spoke so quietly I almost couldn’t hear him.
“But why daddy?”
“Your mom doesn’t think I should be around you girls. Thinks I’ll be a bad influence on you.” Tears rolled down his face and he chucked softly. “Who knows, I might’ve been.”
“But why would you be?”
“Well… It’s a bit hard to explain honey. You’ll understand one day. For now, you just go to school, and church... And be a good girl and do what your mother tells you…”
“You can’t be leaving though! I need you and sissy needs you! I’m reading the book you gave me! Is it because of the fire?”
“…Yes honey, it’s because of the fire. Daddy decided not to go to church anymore, and it didn’t make people very happy. So daddy is leaving… And it makes him so sad to leave you girls.” It was getting harder for him to speak and finally he hugged me tight and stood. Wiping his face on his sleeve, he grabbed his bag and started walking to the door. He opened it and looked back at me.
“I love you so much. When your sister gets back from preschool… tell her I love her too. And remember what I told you. Be good.”
He paused there, watching me for a few moments and turned out the door. I hurried to the window, tears in my eyes, and watched him back out of the driveway. In the sky over the house, I saw seven horns singing their goodbyes to my father. As he drove away I thought I heard someone talking to me, but there was no one around.
From the kitchen I heard my mother’s sobs while she pulled the roast from the oven. When she brought dinner to the table I looked into her eyes and saw into her soul.
“Why did daddy decide not to go to church anymore mom…?”
She froze and looked at me for a long while before answering.
“Well… He got it into his head that our God isn’t real honey…” She focused on her food and didn’t look at me
“And that’s why he left us?”
“Yes honey, that’s why he had to leave.”
“What he did was so bad that he couldn’t be with me anymore?”
“You’re young honey, you’ll understand when you’re older. You have to grow up to be a wonderful woman who finds a nice husband and has children of her own. God will give that all to you if you’re faithful.” She reached across the table and stroked my face, smiling at me.
I was quiet for the rest of the night.
As I lay in my bed that night, I heard a voice. It was very firm and commanding. It said to me, “I am Lord. Be faithful to me, for I am Lord.”
And I lay in the darkness, the sobs shaking my body under the blanket.
My father had been gone a long while now. I laid in the same place I was when he came down those stairs, and my sister lay on the floor beside me reading passages. Suddenly she looked up at me and stared.
“He will take you.”
“What?”
“If you run, he’ll take you.”
“If you run, he’ll take you.”
I sat silent and just looked at her
“He’ll chase you.”
I started to cry. “Why? Why would he do that?”
“Because he is the Lord.”
“Because he is the Lord.”
I put my face in my hands and wept. Wept for my father, and my family. When I took my hands from my face, and looked up my sister stood at the bottom of the stairs looking worried.
“What is it sissy? Why’re you crying?”
I sat there for a few moments and looked down into my lap.
“Nothing… It was nothing.”
She came over and hugged me for a few minutes and then stood back up to leave.
“I was just listening to dad’s radio upstairs. Want to come with me?”
I softly smiled. “Sure.”
And we went upstairs, to let the radio wash us away.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Two Hours
At the halfway mark comes the sun, shining through. Then back to the rain.
The music fades in and out with the swells, parts missing, parts brought out from the depths. Skipping, skipping, skipping through old memories and new ideas.
It's a long path, and the mind likes to wander. The past, the future, is all laid open as the mountains to the clouds. Condensation collects on the thin glass, and it's all hard to comprehend. The dozens of histories, hundreds of actions, thousands of words. They all get mixed into a jumble of everything, and nothing.
It's a winding path, and it's easy to get lost. A couple of words can mean dozens of different things, and suddenly they're all possible. Paranoia sets in the mist. A sideways glance darts by showing a second of annoyance, and it's gone. But that means nothing, and everything. A touch is forgotten, a word remembered forever, an expression a vague memory.
It's a dead end path, and it's either turn back or trek forward into the unknown. The path back is too familiar to be remembered. Seconds move by slipping through the grasp of memory, until you've found a new way to go. But what if you don't? The trek forward is too new and invigorating to be forgotten, and yet too detailed to be recalled. The wrong words are remembered, the right ones locked away in a labyrinth. But the seconds are grasped, and rewards may await.
It's a path that has no end. It's a path that has no beginning and few destinations. It's a path you must travel alone, and yet not alone. You just put one foot in front of the other and hope you don't confuse another's path for your own.
It's a painful path. You'll emerge with scars and bruises. It's a rewarding path. You'll emerge a changed person, more knowledgeable and hopefully happier from the journey.
There is no path.
The music fades in and out with the swells, parts missing, parts brought out from the depths. Skipping, skipping, skipping through old memories and new ideas.
It's a long path, and the mind likes to wander. The past, the future, is all laid open as the mountains to the clouds. Condensation collects on the thin glass, and it's all hard to comprehend. The dozens of histories, hundreds of actions, thousands of words. They all get mixed into a jumble of everything, and nothing.
It's a winding path, and it's easy to get lost. A couple of words can mean dozens of different things, and suddenly they're all possible. Paranoia sets in the mist. A sideways glance darts by showing a second of annoyance, and it's gone. But that means nothing, and everything. A touch is forgotten, a word remembered forever, an expression a vague memory.
It's a dead end path, and it's either turn back or trek forward into the unknown. The path back is too familiar to be remembered. Seconds move by slipping through the grasp of memory, until you've found a new way to go. But what if you don't? The trek forward is too new and invigorating to be forgotten, and yet too detailed to be recalled. The wrong words are remembered, the right ones locked away in a labyrinth. But the seconds are grasped, and rewards may await.
It's a path that has no end. It's a path that has no beginning and few destinations. It's a path you must travel alone, and yet not alone. You just put one foot in front of the other and hope you don't confuse another's path for your own.
It's a painful path. You'll emerge with scars and bruises. It's a rewarding path. You'll emerge a changed person, more knowledgeable and hopefully happier from the journey.
There is no path.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Some Thoughts from a Wandering Mind
Sometimes I feel as if modern entertainment is robbing us blind. Even the most gripping and revolutionary of entertainment. And what I feel it takes from us is the magnificence of the world.
Turn the channel and you'll find you're in the Pyramids at Giza, or on the edge of the suicidal waters of Niagara Falls. With your television alone, you can explore the world. And this seems wonderful, that anyone can experience these things without any trouble at all.
But you see, when you watch these things from afar, you only take in the feeling of seeing whats on the screen- you can't feel the wind breathe across your skin or smell the mist of the falls; you can't feel the heat from the sun as you float in the water of the pacific, or experience what it's like to stand on the edge of that towering cliff where one wrong step sends you falling an unimaginable distance. So you are able to see these fascinating things, but when it comes time to experience it for yourself, you find that you're slightly less impressed than you thought. You won't admit it to anyone, even yourself. And it's because the full experience has been taken from us, leaving us with only fragments of how it should be. You've seen it all already so only the other sensations are new to you, taking away our true first experiences.
Modern entertainment, in some ways, also sets us up for disappointment. Watch a romantic movie and it gives us expectations for what true love feels like. Watch a teen angst movie, and it give you expectations for your life as a teenager. Expectations that in many ways cannot or will not be fulfilled, no matter how much we want them to be, and in this way entertainment robs us of going into situations with an open mind, being willing to experience what comes at us for better or worse.
I think this is one of the reasons I've always loved books. They take you to far away places with new people and adventures that are left up to you to imagine and create. They can't take away that first experience, though they can create expectations. Everything is so hard-set when it comes to things seen on a screen. When you fall into the world of a book, the world becomes yours to craft and shape.
---
I think i will stop the rambling here before my ideas become any more disorganized. Summer is slowly on it's way out now, just as the weather is starting to shape up to resemble something somewhat decent... I have so many things I want to do before it's disappeared completely. I hope you are all doing well! And I'd better see you soon!!
Turn the channel and you'll find you're in the Pyramids at Giza, or on the edge of the suicidal waters of Niagara Falls. With your television alone, you can explore the world. And this seems wonderful, that anyone can experience these things without any trouble at all.
But you see, when you watch these things from afar, you only take in the feeling of seeing whats on the screen- you can't feel the wind breathe across your skin or smell the mist of the falls; you can't feel the heat from the sun as you float in the water of the pacific, or experience what it's like to stand on the edge of that towering cliff where one wrong step sends you falling an unimaginable distance. So you are able to see these fascinating things, but when it comes time to experience it for yourself, you find that you're slightly less impressed than you thought. You won't admit it to anyone, even yourself. And it's because the full experience has been taken from us, leaving us with only fragments of how it should be. You've seen it all already so only the other sensations are new to you, taking away our true first experiences.
Modern entertainment, in some ways, also sets us up for disappointment. Watch a romantic movie and it gives us expectations for what true love feels like. Watch a teen angst movie, and it give you expectations for your life as a teenager. Expectations that in many ways cannot or will not be fulfilled, no matter how much we want them to be, and in this way entertainment robs us of going into situations with an open mind, being willing to experience what comes at us for better or worse.
I think this is one of the reasons I've always loved books. They take you to far away places with new people and adventures that are left up to you to imagine and create. They can't take away that first experience, though they can create expectations. Everything is so hard-set when it comes to things seen on a screen. When you fall into the world of a book, the world becomes yours to craft and shape.
---
I think i will stop the rambling here before my ideas become any more disorganized. Summer is slowly on it's way out now, just as the weather is starting to shape up to resemble something somewhat decent... I have so many things I want to do before it's disappeared completely. I hope you are all doing well! And I'd better see you soon!!
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Nice to See You!
It's been quite a while since I've been back here... Hello again! :) i feel like I only come here anymore to put random stories I write somewhere. So I'll do a bit more than that this time!
I'm really ready for summer. And next school year. This year has been great, but I feel like it's been mostly a learning experience. How to adapt to everything, if you will. Roommates and friends, grades and homework, home and school. Plus, i've got some pretty exciting classes next quarter, including being in a lab with mice, and doing behavioral studies! It's all very exciting. And I'm ready for summer....
I spend a lot of time on tumblr now... It's sort of consumed my blogging. You can find it at Doorwayshome.tumblr.com if you wish to see it. Tumblr is a really cool community...
I've had a hard time finding things to decorate my walls with since I'm very picky about things like that, so i've decided to draw/paint my own things to hang! Which is pretty exciting...
I still have a continuing obsession with cats.... In fact, it may have gotten worse, if that's possible. Kittehroulette.com....
Also, I'm 19 now! What's strange is I actually do feel a bit older, which isn't usually the case. 19 just seems so old.... I'm almost in my 20's... That's just a strange thought. It's also strange to think my grandparents were already married at my age!
I think i've exhausted my ramblings for now, so i'll leave you with a short story/thing I just wrote. 'Til next time!!
A Thread Cut With a Carving Knife
It was a hot and sultry afternoon in late June. The two of us had collapsed ourselves in the deep shade of the willow tree on Peak Hill to conclude our day’s love affair. We lay there in the deep green grass, looking up into the weeping branches of the willow as the sun continued it’s slow decent to the distant horizon. There was so much I felt I needed to say to you, but it was too damn hot to speak that much, even in our shade, and we found it felt much easier to touch. As the sun neared its destination, arriving with a blind man’s masterpiece, we just lay there clinging to one another, as if to separate were to say a farewell forever. And so we forget to fall apart that day.
I'm really ready for summer. And next school year. This year has been great, but I feel like it's been mostly a learning experience. How to adapt to everything, if you will. Roommates and friends, grades and homework, home and school. Plus, i've got some pretty exciting classes next quarter, including being in a lab with mice, and doing behavioral studies! It's all very exciting. And I'm ready for summer....
I spend a lot of time on tumblr now... It's sort of consumed my blogging. You can find it at Doorwayshome.tumblr.com if you wish to see it. Tumblr is a really cool community...
I've had a hard time finding things to decorate my walls with since I'm very picky about things like that, so i've decided to draw/paint my own things to hang! Which is pretty exciting...
I still have a continuing obsession with cats.... In fact, it may have gotten worse, if that's possible. Kittehroulette.com....
Also, I'm 19 now! What's strange is I actually do feel a bit older, which isn't usually the case. 19 just seems so old.... I'm almost in my 20's... That's just a strange thought. It's also strange to think my grandparents were already married at my age!
I think i've exhausted my ramblings for now, so i'll leave you with a short story/thing I just wrote. 'Til next time!!
A Thread Cut With a Carving Knife
It was a hot and sultry afternoon in late June. The two of us had collapsed ourselves in the deep shade of the willow tree on Peak Hill to conclude our day’s love affair. We lay there in the deep green grass, looking up into the weeping branches of the willow as the sun continued it’s slow decent to the distant horizon. There was so much I felt I needed to say to you, but it was too damn hot to speak that much, even in our shade, and we found it felt much easier to touch. As the sun neared its destination, arriving with a blind man’s masterpiece, we just lay there clinging to one another, as if to separate were to say a farewell forever. And so we forget to fall apart that day.
And the next day….
****
Above me lay just a cold and endless sky, grey clouds looming on into the distance. It was the day that I decided I was through with love. I made my slow journey along the path that lead from the hill back into town, pausing along the metal serrated fence that surrounded the small graveyard. A small girl lay there, curled next to a modest headstone and clutching a small tulip in her sorrowful sleep. As I neared her, I noticed the drying tracks that lead from her now silenced eyes down to her frail chinbone. The engraving on the tombstone read:
Grace Campbell
1980-2010
Beloved Mother, Daughter, and Wife
Graceful in life, Graceful in death
I removed my heavy coat and laid it over the girl to shield her from the grey clouds, and made my way back. As I neared the small barrier of trees guarding the town with piles of leaves as skeletons, I realized that I was only skin and bones.
I went to the bridge, just outside of town. The one at which we had met. I went to the bridge so that I could fall, and drop down into the current, far away from it all. But as I stood on the edge, ready to let go, I looked down at the water. It was so black and deep, that I had to close my eyes and look away.
And I fell asleep, ‘til the next day….
****
The snow had fallen hard from five to five, and the only way to stay alive was to drink your worries away. The tumblers were drained and then flooded again and again as I sat slouched on the barstool I called home. And as the bartender filled my glass one last time for the evening, I wished it would kill me too. Because then at least I’d have something changing me. There would a break from the continuous dark emptiness.
I was as cold as the ice at my front door, and I raised my trembling glass, shouting “Fuck the war!”. And then I fell into oblivion. Through the blackness of the world I found myself lying on my bed with my shoes on. That was the last of the light I felt.
‘Til the next day…
****
As you handed me the envelope, I knew what it contained. And I knew no matter what that opening your letter would be the hardest thing I would ever do. On that terrible evening when the darkness began looming, I opened that grey envelope as if I were a doctor making the first incision for a heart transplant.
The world I saw no longer had substance – the lines around me had been blurred until everything I saw blended into one. I began to read your final words to me.
“Baby, close your eyes until tomorrow. It could bring joy, or it could bring sorrow, but no matter what happens it will come as sure as light. You never know what may come, but you have to be ready for anything, even if it means losing everything. Try not to dream tonight. I know that if you do you’ll just be consumed by the darkness in the corners of your mind, and you’ll be lost to the world too. Imagine that you’re just standing here, and suddenly you disappear. That’s how I feel… I’ll never be ready for this, but I know I’ll disappear soon. ‘A thread cut with a carving knife’- That is what they call our life. And now, I understand.
I love you.
Be strong.”
Monday, March 7, 2011
Hmmm
Recently, I've felt like I should blog something. But I have no clue what...
What do blog posts usually talk about?
Events... Well there hasn't been too many of those recently. Aside from an enjoyably awkward high school Tolo. My spring break is coming up fast though! I should get back around the 17th, and my week is wide open! So whoever is reading this, let's plan something :)
Emotions...? Nothing new here either really.
Objects of stress... Well my physics of sound professor gives out craaazyyy loads of homework. Which mixed with everything else gets to be quite a bit too much. Can you say all-nighter? Also my piano class has just been pointless. She's a rather awful teacher and i have a test to catch up for very very soon.
Newly discovered things.... The book Brave New World! It's really really great. We read it for genetics class and it turned out to be much better than I thought it would be. The blog/book Stuff White People Like is quite funny, and true. The creator came to Central and talked about the blog and how it was created and everything. It was really interesting and I started to get the humor on the blog that I didn't pick up before.
Stuff currently happening.... Ellie Goulding's album is on repeat. It was just released in the US finally! Soon to come is a night filled with homework and Desperate Housewives.
Miscellaneous... It seems every time I try to do something in my beanbag, I end up taking a nice long nap... It's started to become a bit problematic haha.
Hit me up for spring break plans!
What do blog posts usually talk about?
Events... Well there hasn't been too many of those recently. Aside from an enjoyably awkward high school Tolo. My spring break is coming up fast though! I should get back around the 17th, and my week is wide open! So whoever is reading this, let's plan something :)
Emotions...? Nothing new here either really.
Objects of stress... Well my physics of sound professor gives out craaazyyy loads of homework. Which mixed with everything else gets to be quite a bit too much. Can you say all-nighter? Also my piano class has just been pointless. She's a rather awful teacher and i have a test to catch up for very very soon.
Newly discovered things.... The book Brave New World! It's really really great. We read it for genetics class and it turned out to be much better than I thought it would be. The blog/book Stuff White People Like is quite funny, and true. The creator came to Central and talked about the blog and how it was created and everything. It was really interesting and I started to get the humor on the blog that I didn't pick up before.
Stuff currently happening.... Ellie Goulding's album is on repeat. It was just released in the US finally! Soon to come is a night filled with homework and Desperate Housewives.
Miscellaneous... It seems every time I try to do something in my beanbag, I end up taking a nice long nap... It's started to become a bit problematic haha.
Hit me up for spring break plans!
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