Evening Star

My heart lives on this December night
On this weighted drift in time
In a land of blissful blue moonlight
The Evening Star mirrors all who pine
Beneath the Night’s Eye she swings
As a girl who within her love no peace sings
How it is my Evening Star that night is your best light
How does the darkness make of you the fairest sight
The Bright and Morning Star has saved me
A tear drop of the sun.
But you tell of a road to be long treaded;
Of the fierce battle, the loss I long dreaded
When I headed east to snatch the day
While beside the shifting moon
You blocked my way
So say I to you, the one beside the shifting moon
“What is love if he leaves too soon?
If only himself one blissful night and only part the rest?
You cheat yourself and that’s true
And is really what makes the night blue
Some nights its only you.
On this weighted drift in time
You, Evening Star, mirror all who pine

Tragic Sense Of Life

I would like to write of the tragic sense of life, which is a topic I consider a lot. No I do not walk around depressed, just thinking about life makes me wonder what life is about. It really has a sense of sadness, because despite how you live life and what you do, it will all disappear and all you have done will come to nothing. It will all fade. What’s the point?
So we must start to ask ourselves, what in the world could be done that would last? Most have figured that transforming another person's life or "making a difference" is a worthy and noble cause, one that would be remembered at least. Some call their children their hope... their hope of what? I think it is the hope that that child would accomplish the dream the parents could not, perhaps make that difference they wanted to be remembered for. A parents words to his children could be said like this, "Son you will be greater than me, I am proud of you" "Daughter you are so wonderful, don't let anybody say you cannot, because I know you can, I love you". We all go through life knowing there is something or many things we have not done. Something we wish in the depths of our heart that we had done. This next part is a portrayal of life.
Let’s start it now, the beginning of the end. As in old age an old man understands all he ever knew has faded from memory and the tragic sense of life becomes his name, death waits upon him to take a stained mantle full of the memories of the past and the pain sits there in the pool of blood. Still, waiting for him to take a final breath and for him to accept the end, while he the one once full of life knows it was not always this way...
But he knows it all began somewhere. He could imagine cries in a darkness a baby did not understand why he is taken from the home he once knew so well. Soon, opened his eyes to a world of light, blank pages fluttered in a wet world of color, all are ready to be soaked. All are ready to be stained, then, for the first time, burned to ashes, fringed with black ash and glowing embers that sparked the first flame of terror. The happy colors burned, where once only perfect bliss stood beneath a bright sun as a small body took a deep breath of the perfect day. Upon the ridges of a cliff and against the wind, against all the laws, stood a baby to declare, "Someday I will learn to fly and someday I will be like all my dreams".
With this in mind he added weights to his feet and began to see dreams only as pretty paintings never to copied, never to be followed. "I still will be like all my dreams". Hurt unspoken, tears unbidden accepted as sacrifices for a simple joy that can never be forgotten. On a rainy day, he remembers a young love and the kiss of a mother still softly touches the cheek and pierces his heart. The eyes fill with the water of the soul, closing his yes to the mist of a now gray world. Here it comes... "I-I remember... I remember much different days. I remember a time long ago in a place that seems so far away".
What’s the point? When it all is to fade and much as a life is lived to gain no regrets those regrets still come. As tightly as dreams are held, in time those fade even when change was wanted the least nothing is ever the same. In fact, these terrible tragedies are the exact things that one always desires to change but never can. However, rather than to our demise it is through these tragedies that we grow the most. By being burned you will never forget caution around fire and failing in one test is to hopefully succeed the next time that difficulty comes around. When facing the tragic sense of life and knowing that some part is not quite perfect is no reason not attempt to make a mark. It is still a good purpose try to be remembered and a great purpose to try to be remembered for something good.

Grace

You brought me out of my shame
Lived to die as I ought
spilled blood to ignite a flame
a flame from above
a gift of life, a gift of love
This pardon goes beyond shame
frees your hert; an' clears your name
sets my joy firm
and my ignorance starts to learn

A Day In The Life

If only to hear her heart near
Unsaid, undone, in shameless love so dear
I will know the best of it all
Her smile, her laugh, and every idle call
Still would I know more of thirst not quenched
To see the truth in the blood of a wound
It all quells afar from war made tame
This beast in me becomes stilled by sleep
I saw the truth in the blood of a wound
Hence all became clear to me
No longer hope in hope so unfound to slay joy
But met in the clash of willful desire
These two became naked though with no shame
Akin to bareness of soul; shieldless hearts revealed
"I do love you" "I do also love you"
Echoes hardly went then fled all care
Then they belittled eternal life as well
Becoming two like mirrors of foolish love
"Heaven has no equal next to my love,
no purer world and to thine a god is lesser
Who dares to heighten her beauty?
Who dares to dress her?
Its a cold act, bold and useless"

Love is a Falling

“That is what I love about you. You think before you act”. Jackie said smiling. She meant the thought before he loved her, but really he thought of nothing. He still could not understand how Jackie could become everything. No, he never knew of a place called Love. Not of the hills and spires covered with trees that populate that wasteland of overgrown vegetation. For as alive as it could be, dead also as rotten flesh; pungent and inescapable. Something sickly perverse draws a like a dream only a child could conceive; making one like Death, to haunt a land of Affection. He drew like a ghoul upon something holy, Becoming drunk as dry sand drinks water and likewise always wanting. “oh! How the lights sparkle here dear, Oh! How they shine”. After a while the undead became false life. Flowers grew from his mouth and the petals covered her face. Now her face was lovely above all. The green vines thick from his hands grew upon her head. Her hair became the finest thread. As lovely as lovely could be, Saw only he the loveliest she. “My love, my love the petals that fall are still falling on your face”.

I Don't Know Kung Fu

I cannot sleep I cannot dream tonight. It seems so much time has passed since last I met you. You're an angel in my life; I cannot help but laugh around you. Is it not your very presence that brings me happiness. I once heard where there is love that can exist no fear. Since love is the absence of fear. But I fear now. I am terrified now! I do not know how to sing and I do not know how to fight. What class did I miss when they taught Kung Fu of the heart? I feel so lame, how can I say what I need to and still feel like a man. But it is honor not pride I would lose. I would feel desperate and low. I'd rather us both be strong in love. What if's turn my mind blank. In the end I am the smooth killer of my dreams, I play the friend and all the while wish for so much more. What is the wisdom you can give my dear Grandfather? Wish you were here now... Mother? Where are you? Where is your advice in this? Because my heart is now thoroughly distressed. I can only imagine now how she will be caught. My angel will be taken by another. I once thought I was equal to all the other warriors and I once thought I was as deadly as they... I once thought I had game. Yet now I see what a fool I have been. This weakness has got to count against me... saying nothing of my small size. What is it now that I can bring that would fascinate her. Character? it is only a star to be stared upon, you know you cannot reach stars. I have ran out of options and I have tried almost everything. Yet brute honesty will help me the most. When I think about it, it seems so simple. Tell her! Tell her! Tell her! Yet would such a destructive action cripple our friendship? I don't want to be the cause of that again... I don't want to be the cause of that again. I was so bold back then when I told that lovely girl how I felt. Then it was as if I died and went to heaven. My darling turned into a light that even silence and separation could not penetrate. But now 2 years later that massive explosion I would have to call a failed relationship I have learned not to be so bold. I cannot stand it! It is as if I am hanging from a ledge over a furious sea. Dare I fall into the thunderous depths? Dare I fall in love? But Love is not love... But Love is not love... I know it to be true by scars... Up until I have loved her in every way i can think of to truly love a person. I have not judged her character when it was less than perfect. I have not betrayed her trust. I have complimented her good abilities and encouraged her in her strengths. I have often helped her when I did not need to. I have been her friend. How I wish I could advise her in a matter that would give me the greatest joy. To help her in someway. I have found true Love to be more of an action rather than a feeling. I will know when it is true when the fear is gone and I am not going in because I "feel" so strongly. But when I do, I will "know" it is right. Maybe my Kung Fu is good... is it not good technique to be offensive and also secretive? I do not hide love though. But I hide my stupidity. I am a stupid human, foolish and simple hearted. I swear i will not hurt her in this way! I have thought humans are so silly. If they love just to take risks no wonder their hearts are so broken. A shoot-or-miss-or-miss philosophy, the odds are against you. I think it should be sure-shot! I know it is not long now. These days will pass and I will ponder so many words I could have said. I would replay the situation a thousand time until I was Mr. Smooth and her my captive audience. Yet now it all makes sense to me, now this point of contact seems right. This is where we meet my friend and I am sure glad I have you today. Just as a friend. It seems I am not ready for that jump. I am just not ready.

Changing of a Heart

I took it as it was something to be had. But I only deceived myself and spent my days with it at my side. Little did I know how it weakly shimmered and its thin substance was everyday on the brink of disappearance. I looked to the horizon full of hope and thoughtless happiness, it was nothing I had fought for or by any force claimed as my own. In this life I cared for nothing it all came to me, none of it a was conquered. The day today was ending and I knew tomorrow was already anticipated to be peaceful as always. I walked away from that shimmering mist knowing it would follow, expecting it to follow. It always did. It would never leave me. I took to bed in the forest as I always did, the mild climate sustained its temperate conditions day and night. I did not fear the cold or the heat. i did not fear thirst or hunger. I would never know the consequences of my careless living.

I went to sleep quickly that night with the soft ground holding me delicately in its earthy arms. In a dream the mist glided lightly with me into a vibrant sky. High in the wispy clouds we basked in the brilliance of the high noon sun. Fearlessly I took to the sky, Taris fallowed slowly. Taris was the mist and in my dream he became a man. He looked strong, reserved, yet it was a calm of a lion who knew none could challenge him. I was confident as I looked at the world beneath me. "Together Taris, you and I will conquer the world". He smiled nodding his shaven head in compliance. In this world though there was nothing to conquer, but everything we saw was ours. From the sea bed, to the highest mountain peak. It was all ours. There existed no one to defy our dominance. For a long time we rested in the great power we had over all creation. "Taris, this is our creation, this is what we made". He nodded. I grew to know the rhythms of the earth, the pounding tides and the fierce winds. The devastation of an earthquake and an eruption of a volcano became displays of my power. I could no longer recognize that I caused none it. Over time I looked at Taris as a nuisance. He was always following me. I despised his calm reserve and even began to dislike his compliance. Why did he have to always agree with me? In my dream I flew to far side of the Earth far from the place we called our home. I smiled in a new kind of freedom. Yet as I turned to revel in my solitude there he floated. Calm. Powerful. Silent. I became so furious I couldn't speak. To me he became my master, watching my every step. I reached a conclusion out of my rapidly increasing paranoia that he was jealous of me. I began to have fits of outburst and rage against Taris. Soon I could tell that my anger started to spark agitation in Taris, it was the only thing I feared. It was like watching small cracks forming before an earthquake. Where once the earth had been so pristine and calm. I saw something inside Taris shift when he would no longer smile at me and even felt the ominous terror when he would no longer look at me. Nonetheless he followed me as always, he became like a weight when I flew and when I swam I could vividly imagine his iron like hands clamping to my heals and dragging me to the cold depths. Taris... when did this happen I thought. In a praire it was no longer a simple happiness in the tranquil waves of the grass. It was only a mockery of my inner turmoil. Suddenly as if my mind was a pane a glass my thoughts shattered with the abrupt realization. I felt the ground, it bunched in the curling of my fists. I breathed out hot air until my lungs were empty and I gasped for air in panic. The air was cold, no it was warm, but if felt cold as sweat formed all over my body. It all felt so...so...real! I wasn't in a dream anymore. Taris! The sharp feeling of terror pierced my heart, I felt like I was going fall off the planet. Taris! The horizon was hazy. I tried to run; stomping slowly across the ground, it hurt to run I was so heavy. The forest behind loomed out to me, from the recesses crooked branches reached out to me. I felt empty and cold. The world felt empty and cold. "TARIS"! I screamed.

Empircal Feelings

Ash- may burn as bar-ley
and the
day may burn so early
Lyrical brother to delight like the feather
worst is worst come to fight
the smile, the kiss to bring light
we played, we fought, and loved together
but ends delight the ending twins
of bitter and sad thus lonely spins
next of kin, mirrors broken together
to vex, to test that lyrical brother
but said I to the coming new, "Too Old!"
for the ending in hearty weakling fold
so troubled as I
I said "me" to I
Also says I more words
to blast her memory high
but she stayed high
Like a fortress liken
only to a girl hurt as she

He Spoke Mono

There is a boy in the back room, his collar is red. He blends into the black velvet curtains. Invisible. He waits in silence, but no one here wants to go to him. I didn't even know he was there until last night, but he cries a lot so you might not want to get close or you can get a little wet if you want to. But as for us, we will stay clear, even this distance is close enough, I feel sick. Another warning, he is really angry and hurt, that is why his collar is red. It keeps him there in that back room, hidden from the rest of us. No one here doesn't even go near him, but we know we couldn't get that collar off. It is too hot, even if you think about it too much, my head starts to hurt. Lets talk of something else. Yeah... this is a strange place, I only started going here last week, but all these people are something dead. A part of something dead, at least- they smell. I can distinguish the smell, but even I am getting tainted, I bring perfume, really potent, could even knock you unconscious, but it doesn't last long in this place. I am becoming tainted. I have to separate myself constantly I don't want to smell dead and not know it. They don't seem to mind though, they just walk around and whisper in corners, they are afraid to disturb each other, but their murmurs drive each other crazy. They are paranoid, I am paranoid. Did you see that shimmer! Oh! I really hope that ghost doesn't talk to me again. He spoke to me to me last time and I froze for the entire night. I almost broke my ankle when I was released, because I had no strength to stand after. You learn to ignore the dull whispers after while, it is almost like you are in a hive. I don't know where the honey is though. I know I should shut up because I am making no sense, but seriously, if you had sense you would leave. Oh! You're gonna stay? Your brother is here! Your friend you say. He must be a close friend to be a brother. I had a brother once, he got swept away in that river, the one that never stops. From what I heard, it won't stop until some guy put it under his foot. I wonder what kind of shoes he will be wearing? Not sandals because that won't stop any water, it will just pass through...

Dream

In a empty stone room I asked, "Is this the end?".
"This is only the beginning", the guard replied.
I started to turn and whispered, "I've got to get out, I have to leave", the walls were full of puzzles.
Someone spoke again,"This is only the beginning, you cannot escape the end. You cannot escape your end." Suddenly, I didn't want to leave, this place looked so wonderful. Look at that angel! She is called my mother's name. She sat wasting time in a small box... like me and I felt comforted.
I screamed, "Madness, where's the exit? NO! Get away! You're crazy, isn't there a way out? I heard myself whimpering, "There too much blood and so many faces! Why are they crying? Why am I here?" With tears streaming down my face I heard a voice, "Turning is useless, you turn from one Thing only to meet another Thing. Those are monsters and they have come to consume you... if you move".
I stood still in a room of stone, a stone box and there was only one man. Then the man who was the guard appeared and spoke to me again.
"You cannot leave this place of horror and bliss, you will be trapped in this place of nothing and see everything. Nothing is hidden from you, but you are blind.
Without moving I felt my back against the floor covered in blood, but it was silk and still tried to turn with no avail. I squinted confused. There was no ceiling... I turned my head... no walls. The floor! I was suspended in the darkness. I stiffened trying not to fall.
"Is this the end", I asked. I felt a breath on my back, it whispered, "This is only the beginning". Suddenly it became a laughing screech and then a tortured roar. Dark blue tendrils looking like fire wrapped around my form, twirling upwards and fading with my passing. I was falling. Screams jolted me out of my sleep. I looked to the flashing television. Images of blood and war seared my mind. The screen filled with the face of a crying baby. On the wall a clock ticked, it looked like a puzzle. On the wall also hung a canvas that depicted a savage image from Left4Dead. I had painted it last month. The room tilted, exhausted I fell weakly onto the softness of my pillow. The lamp on the stand next to my bed lit up a picture of my mother smiling at me while she held a young child. Her image blurred. Why is she in a box? ... the room went dark.

Looking Out the Window

He climbed the wall like one of those stupid spiders, complete with hairy legs and all the after images of a nightmare. I shivered watching Spike, our three year old monkey make his way along the naked water pipes. I could almost imagine him as King Kong, but the King never went through a mass of metal tubes... "Stupid Spike you have to come down sometime", I raised my eye brows at him. He just glanced at me, then twisted his head and hissed at the window. The sun barely lit the dank recesses of our bug invested window well. I remember playing in those searching for rare spider species or hoping I would find some creature never seen before. It was the hope of a child and the fear. I looked into those secret dirt holes and peered in the gravel crevices with the greatest anticipation only to come out empty handed except with a little more fear of the unknown. I wanted to know. But what would it help if I did. I would only be scared out of my mind and never return there again. I peered down at the sticky pop cans littered at my feet and felt sick. I knew drinking so much soda wasn't healthy, but that was what I called a good Saturday night. Your most boring laziness beneath a bunch of sticks with a hairy creature to ignore you. Loneliness. I listened once more for the groaning noise of the garage door that would announce the return of my parents from their weekend trip to the Coast. They were both busy with work all the time, leaving early and arriving home late. They used the weekend to escape and leave me trapped. I often made my own dinners. I even stayed home from school some days when I didn't feel like going, who was there to make me go anyways. It was a privilege most teenagers don't get. But how would I know, maybe they liked school because it was better than home. I rolled my eyes once again and sighed as I sunk my body heavily against the folding metal chair. I sent the cans clanking away as I pushed my feet out. Why was I wearing sandals with socks? I wish she would call me. Man! I wish Jack would call me. Boring Jack, hanging with his girlfriend seemed to be all he did these days, ever since the summer. She said she would call me. Leaning my head back I looked at an upside down monkey still staring into the window well. "Spikyy", he continued to stare out the window, "Spike!". He look at me, rubbed his hands and looked back out the window. I frowned at him. Am I looking at a depressed monkey? He looked even more depressed as there was barely any light coming through the window. It was all turning into a blue cold evening. I sighed again and got up pulling lightly at the lamp string over my head. Yellow light illuminated the concrete floor and boxes teetering against the wall. There really was no door to the basement, only a small wooden latter lead up to an opening that lead right to our back entrance. This place was so empty. I knew my parents weren't coming home. I would have friends over, but seeing as I only had one, I guess he would be busy. I thought of Jane again. Why did I think of her? I asked myself again what was wrong with me. I started to kick one of the cans up against the wall. Looked out the window, without even noticing Spike... In my memory I kicked a can across the road and I heard Jane's voice as it rang through the hot summer air of August."You stay in your house a lot". She said this and went quiet again and looked back down the white sidewalk. I could only say one thing, "Its my house". I walked over to her as she stared down the lane of cookie-cutter houses. I stared down at her hair as it shone in the high-noon sun. She continued to stare, I sat next to her. Why was she here, in front of my house? "Did you enjoy your summer", I asked. She responded quickly, "Yeah, I guess". I frowned at her, then smiled, "What did you do?". "Not much". I frowned again. "Well, I will tell you about the most exciting summer ever". She turned her head to me, "Yeah, what did you do?" I lied, "I went to the Coast, spent almost two months there actually. But we wanted to spend the rest of the summer home, that is why I am in my house a lot. Plus, I guess the neighbor was sick of taking care of Spike" Jane laughed, "I still cannot get over that you have a pet monkey, I thought only people in India that sorta of thing and celebrities". I smiled, "We're pretty exotic! Love doing all sorts of strange things together". "I am glad your family does things together, my parents just fight all the time".

Its a Choice to Feel

   I start my day with the sunrise and I beckon to the winds. Come all thee flowers and the beauty of hers eyes, I call for them all. Then onward to the sweet sound of her voice, my heart drinks it like wine. Pure and sweet.

   Another night. I start my day in the shadows and the cold, she isn't with me. I fear the day to come the sun has not risen yet. The trees grow shadows and the stars fade into a dim blue sky. The frost bites me as I think of her name, bringing a myriad of thoughts. My footsteps are heavy until I see her.

   When I see her suddenly the steps I make to her was just one, which I marked so vividly in my mind. Its the last step I had to take until I was close to her. Her eyes are bright and I catch the smile she made while she drew her face to my own. In the silence of my mind, I watch her lips moving. Her hand catches her hair and flings from her shoulders, laughing as a friend spoke her name in shock. She was proud of her accomplishment.

   Another night. But the night is long and the memory of her smile leaves me in a trance as I replay my thoughts of touching her hair. I go through the motions of tomorrow. What shall I say? It will be this and it will be that, she'll do this and that. Then this will begin and I'll say that, with a flirt make a statement and a plan. It won't end, but only starts again. It will be this way and it will be that way. It will be this way. The dawn wakes with my dreams still floating like clouds in the sky.

  All day I never see her and all day I can't say all I want to. The world is so bright, yet it also is dark and dim without her next to me today. I hope so much in nothing, I see her ghost in a thousand place and she left me many trinkets to remember her by. She won't be gone forever, but I see her everywhere.

Dauntless

I am love and I've got a thing for you. No matter how you run you cannot escape my grasp. Gonna have you forever. Then in the pit of despair the light you shine I will see and make a hearty laugh. I knew you wouldn't leave me. Gonna have you forever. They say I am so good and when compared to them maybe I am just a little better. But what kind of thought is that... "a good person". No one is good except the Lord and in my heart I will always believe that. No matter how far I run from Him and even try to hide, it will always be what I believe. Ha ha you with me in this dank pit, both of us are dirty and broken... me good? hahaha How can dirt be good and how can I not contaminate the purest waters. Of this I am sure and then cleave for the under blessed fun, of hope that never weeps. But that other Hope drags me along like a destroyed doll with no mercy or escape from the thoughts of future that bring to this meandering state of stillness. I pray you know where you are going and in the silence will hear of the places we need to be. For now you are my leader Hope, my master and my king. Because I am lost and feel there exists no place where I can hide. So now we run, and run forgetting the breathless gasps and the painful hints of exhaustion. I am actually dying. But I run to live. Through the dim forest I catch the bright afterimage of your face, your laughing and I can hear the echoes of that sound. It terrified me and I weeped so hard I couldn't breath as my body was still hanging limp from the shoulders of the one I clung to. Who was it that held me? Who was it that dragged me along with such thoughtlessness, I hated her. But her face was shapeless and she brought me nightmares and tiredness. I laughed at my own insanity, for surely she will not leave me to die in this wilderness. For surely we have yet to glimpse the sunrise and it will obliterate this darkness.  For now there are just shadows.

Feelers

Well since I have not written here in a while I would like to begin. :) As of right now I am skipping class for the sheer fun of it and would like to continue my day with as little disturbances as possible. These days I feel overwhelmed by all that I have to do and by all the encompassing tasks that must be completed. It is hard to know where to begin and I have come to understand that action is the only proactive thing I can do at this point. I am very serious these days, at least when I write. Everything is dark and dreary, I don't know how I can make the jokes I make. I won't pride myself with being clever or at all lighthearted. Maybe it is more for the sake of the other person and sort of a defense mechanism for myself. So, the person does not see how I truly feel. That would be a great misfortune; if someone where to see how I felt. I think that person would be harsh and not at all sensitive to what I am feeling. Mistrust. Yes I am very distrustful. I will let you see how pretty my house and all the work I put into making it. However you will never see the inside and that is where the possibility of you seeing it does terrify me very much. As ardently as I wish for this to be a fairy tale it is not. It is what I have contemplated on very much and have made the preceding conclusions. But controvesy strikes me where I am! Am I not showing how I feel. Oh much like a message in a bottle. However, you do not and cannot understand the complete scope of my feeling with this language. I would not do it if I did not trust it. Stranger you are and stranger still your response, you wouldn't send that would you?

Thesis Power

I am scared about my thesis, which I would consider a good thing. Ha ha I would say, I am glad I even have one. I think I present on the morrow.
I would like to write of the tragic sense of life, which is a topic I consider a lot. No I do not walk around super depressed, just thinking about life makes me wonder sometimes. It really is sad. Despite how you live life and what you do, it will all disappear and all you have done will come to nothing.
Sorry! My thesis... right. But yeah, life is tragic, and I wanted to write a paper on that, really detailing my experience with life's tragedy. As much as people would like to think life is not a tragic. The only reason that there is something called life anyways is because there is death. Just as there is good because there is evil. Right because there is wrong. Love and Hate.

Books and Movies

I am completely amazed by the power of the motion picture and also by the written word. It is all so amazing! Can you tell I am excited? When a person can create a work that influences my life and causes me feel a certain way, it just makes so happy. In my development as a writer and also as an artist my greatest inspirations have come from movies and books. Suddenly I am enraptured in the pain of character or their joy. I hate the villain and I scream(inside) at a character that makes a stupid decision. Sometimes, when a certain part comes out that so freaking mind blowing I even laugh aloud and possibly jump up and dance or do some weird display of amazement. Seriously. :) I really get into it. But I never do this with people around, thankfully. Then from that I am inspired, then from that raw emotion I forge an idea and I crank out a work of art or, mostly likely, a poem. I am almost at the point where I despise creating something without any inspiration or excitement! It feels like I am grinding against nothing. I have only said this to emphasize the importance of both. Though we have not had motion picture until recently considering historical time. No fifty years is not a long time. :) However, even before the creation of television and the boom of modern media, we had theater. There is a certain importance in visually seeing something acted out to remember a particular story or even an event that happened within a group of people. It is also important to read a book to remember a story or event. But also it is important to be simply entertained, life is hard and it is good at times to be taken away and perhaps only for a while experience another world.
It is hard to say how much of what I know and how I act has been influenced by books or tv, but I hope I have learned a little by piles of books I have read and many movies I have seen. I am starting to think that without life to pound my head in, I would have never learned the things I have read and seen in those different types of media. You can study all you want, but until you actually apply what you have learned there really is no experience gained or useful way you could use all that information.

Poetry on Page 350

The Law of Immeasurable Quantity


Notice law = known right angles makes known unknown forms,
Also Immeasurable= the known forms make a little door
drawing the same process of a segment,
making an unknown form.
Quantity is a known door, since two sides and the included angle are known (SAS).
We can derive other unknown forms of the law of Immeasurable quantity recognizing that the opposite is true for all three unknown forms.
Since, left and right equal known quantity, the known door included is the only known quantity.

Ridiculous! Found it in a trig book, talking of The Law of Cosines.

Sonnet

Ha ha, I probably destroyed the idea of Iambic Pentameter, and this is a bit too deep. But I am sure that anyone who has been in love it is blinding. Whoa!I just wanna say... Shake-a-Spear! :)

                        Agapē  

How when I look upon you such desire

Opens and burns and consumes my dry soul

I’m chaff and the waste ready for a fire

You own me, your love is all that I know

Lovely, lovely my desperate hunger

Waits like in the dark for your bright light

You will come and I will wait no longer

I will be sated walking from the night

Into your presence I am put secure

You hold me never willing my depart

All your love is aroused and will endure

Stars do not last and forever is short

Your embrace last longer, your hold has no end

There’s no one else for me, no closer friend

Sonnet: Clandestine I

When my sight unseen your sweet complexion

Time has stilled this grinding fire’s bitter burn

Yet silence only rounds another tiresome turn

My Heart heeds the Banshee’s depiction

Gnarled twists of her face lay waste my still hand

Aback the Flower heeds an infant’s frail curl

My Heart’s whimpers, drowned by cries, for that girl

Panicked gorge spurts blood upon the sand

Wrenching on the ground the hallow wind blows

Of future hope know I not where it goes

Like Or As

 Caterpillar

"Bailey remained in the 

driver's seat with the cat-gray 

striped with a broad white face 

and an orange nose-clinging to his 

neck like a caterpillar." 

(398 R.)

 Hippoptamus

"She had her big 

black valise that 

looked like 

the head of a 

hippopotamus." 

(393 R.)

                          Snake

The Mist fit sprang back as if 

a snake had bitten him and 

shot her three time 

through the 

chest." 

(403 R.)

uhhh... some of these are quite disturbing, hippos, caterpillars, and snakes. Mostly animal 

references, which is interesting, because I guess it is way easier to picture animals. Also, these 

animals mentioned are not that attractive, at least not like a butterfly. :) This is good though 

because that adds to the style by the author writes this story.

It was the strangest and faintest dream, but I thank God I finally had one I could actually remember. :) Well I sort of remember it. Well, it began with the setting around a pool; one that I think is much like the one at my home. There was sort of a game like basketball in a pool. I sat out as I usually do in social gatherings and observe; that’s at least what I think I was doing. People would automatically pair up and would play a game I am still unsure about what it was exactly. It did require swimming though. With dreams, it is always so strange that physical things come in feelings and emotion. It isn't stone, but what I feel what would be stone. Fear isn't seeing something; it is premonition that without a doubt something is there, even though I don't see it. So I was watching strangers, friends, and family play this game in the pool. Then somebody I loved touched the bottom of the pool and lost. When she got out of the pool she was angry and hurt she had lost. I embraced her as she came around to where I was and I felt the emotion of feeling cold skin. But I also felt the enormous satisfaction of holding her so close and securely. I wasn't sure who she was. She disappeared from my consciousness and I soon joined the game. But I don't know what it was I was playing. I just wanted to show people how I could launch from the wall and go speeding through the water. However, I touched the bottom of the pool and got the feeling I did something wrong, because I knew I shouldn't touch the bottom of the pool, but I pretended I didn't. Then, just as if I had jinxed myself, I did it a second time, by this time I knew I was cheating by not taking myself out of the pool. Then I touched the bottom of the pool for the third and final time, so when I came to the surface a man was there pointing a thick finger at me. He had a green coat on with a green hat and a orange beard, I got the impression of a dwarf/lepercon sort of guy although he was tall. So I got out and continued to watch the game from the side lines. After that it is just bits and pieces, but none of them are clear enough to tell

Memory

The only thing I could think of as my earliest childhood memory is one takes place on a cracked sidewalk outside my house in Billings. I do not know why I remember this though. It could be because those days were the last days I was with my parents. But now our family is broken and I haven't been with my family in 14 years. The memory is faded, yet what remains is there is printed in my mind like a painting that has been scraped with sand-paper. I was playing with either my brother, friends, or myself. But I was very interested in getting one of those toy cars that look like red and yellow beetles over the cracks in the cement. That is my earliest memory of frustration, yet it may have been something entirely different.

The Brothers Karamazov(17)

I really enjoy Dostoyevsky’s narrative. I have only read beginning the book, but there is something that caught my attention that I would like to “blog” about. It is interesting to notice how writers often find ways of exploring the human complexity in a way that I could not in all my methodical meditations. It is sort of similar to an enlightening and most often leaves one me with a gratitude for reading that I doubt will ever be replaced. However, back to this passage that caught my attention.

“In his childhood and adolescence he was not effusive and he did not even like to talk a great deal, but it is was not from mistrustfulness, nor from shyness or from morose unsociability; quite the contrary it was from something else, from a sort of inner preoccupation, a preoccupation that concerned only himself and had nothing to do with anyone else, but so important to him that he seemed to forget others because of it. But he loved people; all his life he seemed to have complete faith in people and yet no one ever took him for a simpleton or a naïve person” (Dostoyevsky, 17).

It is often in this very similar “preoccupation”, that I find myself caught up in. It is these kinds of introversion I often reprimand myself for, not as a result of my own two-mindedness, but because of society. In the American society in regards to socializing, it is all talk, where always, one is expected to have something interesting to say or some comical statement. Going back to my “preoccupations”, I would not like to think myself as “mistrustful” of others, Or “shy”, or “unsociable” However, it is the label that we, even I, stick to the foreheads of those whose tongues are less free. Instead, I would like to relate myself to Alyosha, “no one would take him for a simpleton or a naïve person”. It is often because of my thoughts that I am silent. 

Le Premier

Well class today was quite interesting and amusing. I am suppose to say something so I guess all I will say is I will enjoy this class. Though I am very unsure about the novel. I had started it high school and I remember all of the names were very hard to get by. However this is a challenge for me and one I am looking forward to surmounting. I really hope it does prove to be one of greatest novels of all time, at least for myself. :)