Souljourner
Raging heat, augmented by humidity
Refreshes my being
The air clouded, adulterated by pollution
Inhale the fumes, a purifying soothing solution
Gaze upon the mania of metallic beasts
As they roam the narrow streets
Tuk-tuk[1] terrors traverse loudly
Motorcycle menaces maneuver swiftly
Bloated buses barge through
The bedlam calms my nerves
I walk down the soi[2]
A poor, hairless creature limps along aimlessly
Its’ emaciated frame, covered in sores
Resembles a heart away from home
A voiceless toothy grin
In response to the clunk, clunk sound of coins
Her teeth, stained red and rotted from betel nut[3]
Like the tattered transient upon a glimpse of home
Mansions stand proudly along the road
On the other side of its walls the slums hide in humility
On both sides of the walls laughter can be heard—
Happiness and contentment despite condition
The rain tap dances on the tin roofs for days
Drenched raiment clings to his shivering skin
As the beggar searches frantically for solace
So is a soul away from home
A flurry of bright orange arises in the east
In the west, monks robed in saffron—
The ersatz glory of the sun—collect alms in peace
A warm, welcoming grin from the land of smiles[4]
To the weary sojourner—the souljourner—
As he returns to his place of rest
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[1] An open three-wheeled vehicle, a cross between a motorcycle and a taxi, used for public transportation.
[2] The Thai word for sub-street
[3] A type of seed that contains traces of stimulants that provide a buzz when chewed.
[4] Thailand is known as “the land of smiles”
Written for my English class last semester...apprehension of criticism for perhaps misrepresentation has prevented me from sharing earlier. It was so hard to write about only a few select things which had to be understandable to those that have not been privelaged to witness everything that Thailand is, but I guess this is more Krungthep--a morsel of it. Home where is home?
Monday, August 27, 2007
July 11, 2005 - Pioneer
Pioneer
Sometimes I wish I was the pioneer of written language
To be the first to etch thoughts and inner stirrings
In a time of newness
Where everything seems fresh
To be the originator of written expression
To say anything without being cliché
In the place free of criticism
A brief dream that is
For I have realized the purpose
Of the staleness of communication
Is to force creativity
I am convinced there are few new themes in life
They are rarely discovered
Only varied by situation
There are only new ways to share them
Which few have found
For each man feels every experience
As if he has been the first
Not knowing humanity knows all too well
Saying straight out how he feels
Thinking honesty is crisp and unworn
Innocent ignorance has led many this way
Creating atmospheres of no hope for language
Hope lies in the abstraction of obscurity
This is what gives language its beauty--
To form something new out of the stale
These thoughts hurt
But they cauterize the wound
Reviving expression by stretching the mind
I know this has been said before.
Sometimes I wish I was the pioneer of written language
To be the first to etch thoughts and inner stirrings
In a time of newness
Where everything seems fresh
To be the originator of written expression
To say anything without being cliché
In the place free of criticism
A brief dream that is
For I have realized the purpose
Of the staleness of communication
Is to force creativity
I am convinced there are few new themes in life
They are rarely discovered
Only varied by situation
There are only new ways to share them
Which few have found
For each man feels every experience
As if he has been the first
Not knowing humanity knows all too well
Saying straight out how he feels
Thinking honesty is crisp and unworn
Innocent ignorance has led many this way
Creating atmospheres of no hope for language
Hope lies in the abstraction of obscurity
This is what gives language its beauty--
To form something new out of the stale
These thoughts hurt
But they cauterize the wound
Reviving expression by stretching the mind
I know this has been said before.
June 28, 2005 - 25 Days
25 Days
so severe
the pang of longing
despite knowing the wait is short
I will see you soon
never has the ache of distance
been this short
but oh so much more painful
ironic
unfair
why?
yet now—different circumstances
forced to change against our feelings
when I see you again
I know I will confuse
my actions will contradict
with what was said in the past
I apologize a head of time
sorry
it will be like the days of old
but we know it will hurt
how it stings to let go
so you can freely roam
to find self and soul
no longer stunted growth
by this hand that holds close
25 days
I’m elated
I’m scared
25 days
can’t wait to see you.
so severe
the pang of longing
despite knowing the wait is short
I will see you soon
never has the ache of distance
been this short
but oh so much more painful
ironic
unfair
why?
yet now—different circumstances
forced to change against our feelings
when I see you again
I know I will confuse
my actions will contradict
with what was said in the past
I apologize a head of time
sorry
it will be like the days of old
but we know it will hurt
how it stings to let go
so you can freely roam
to find self and soul
no longer stunted growth
by this hand that holds close
25 days
I’m elated
I’m scared
25 days
can’t wait to see you.
May 29, 2005 - The Weed
The “Weed”?
**Another story if you will...one along the same lines as the last one, although this one is more relevant to something in the past.**
He reached up to adjust his rearview mirror, briefly taking notice of the shiny new car behind him. A thirty-something woman sipped her Starbucks as she prattled into her cell-phone equipped with internet and camera and from the looks of it—the steering wheel for the car. He sighed as he looked around at the mess in his ’87 truck—waiting for the stoplight which resembled a tomato—it was old but had served him well all these years. He pulled forward as the tomato unripened from a lush red to a bright and sour green, giving him the signal to go. Mellow music mused in the background interrupted by intermittent waves of static as he drove along silently.
Upon reaching the house he got out of his white truck which read “Gardening Service” on the side, and walked to the front door of the medium sized grey house. The nine o’clock sun glared at him while he squinted right back. He rang the doorbell but then realized that there was an enveloped taped to the door with his name on it in careful writing. In it was a note with some basic instructions and a check for far more than his standard fee.
He made his way around to the backyard to inspect his patient to see what he would need to do to conjure a remedy. It was bad, but he could tell that it had once been a decent backyard with a pleasant garden in the corner. The grass was wild and long—briefly bringing to mind his long hair hippy days—and the weeds were looking as if they were preparing to usurp control of the backyard.
In a matter of several hours it looked completely different—he had transformed a jungle into a lawn and garden. There was something that was troubling him however. There was a strange plant, like no other he had seen in all his years in gardening, at the corner of the part where the lawn transitioned into garden. It looked like it belonged in the garden and yet somehow at the same time it seemed so out of place. He was unsure as to what he should do. It almost looked like an exotic plant, but at the same time it could have been a weed. Whatever it was, it was strange and too small for him to determine. He did not want to appear unprofessional and possibly leave a weed growing but did not want to destroy a special plant. The note left by his customer asked him to come once every fortnight and mentioned that he would probably be gone before the gardener arrived to work. With this in mind he wondered if he should let this plant bloom or if he should completely extirpate it. He could trim it and leave possibilities open for either option—which would be avoiding a solution—either letting a weed remain rooted or preventing a flower from reaching full bloom.
Both solutions are problematic, he did not know what to do, there was no way he could ask the owner for he would never meet him. Which risk must he take?
**Another story if you will...one along the same lines as the last one, although this one is more relevant to something in the past.**
He reached up to adjust his rearview mirror, briefly taking notice of the shiny new car behind him. A thirty-something woman sipped her Starbucks as she prattled into her cell-phone equipped with internet and camera and from the looks of it—the steering wheel for the car. He sighed as he looked around at the mess in his ’87 truck—waiting for the stoplight which resembled a tomato—it was old but had served him well all these years. He pulled forward as the tomato unripened from a lush red to a bright and sour green, giving him the signal to go. Mellow music mused in the background interrupted by intermittent waves of static as he drove along silently.
Upon reaching the house he got out of his white truck which read “Gardening Service” on the side, and walked to the front door of the medium sized grey house. The nine o’clock sun glared at him while he squinted right back. He rang the doorbell but then realized that there was an enveloped taped to the door with his name on it in careful writing. In it was a note with some basic instructions and a check for far more than his standard fee.
He made his way around to the backyard to inspect his patient to see what he would need to do to conjure a remedy. It was bad, but he could tell that it had once been a decent backyard with a pleasant garden in the corner. The grass was wild and long—briefly bringing to mind his long hair hippy days—and the weeds were looking as if they were preparing to usurp control of the backyard.
In a matter of several hours it looked completely different—he had transformed a jungle into a lawn and garden. There was something that was troubling him however. There was a strange plant, like no other he had seen in all his years in gardening, at the corner of the part where the lawn transitioned into garden. It looked like it belonged in the garden and yet somehow at the same time it seemed so out of place. He was unsure as to what he should do. It almost looked like an exotic plant, but at the same time it could have been a weed. Whatever it was, it was strange and too small for him to determine. He did not want to appear unprofessional and possibly leave a weed growing but did not want to destroy a special plant. The note left by his customer asked him to come once every fortnight and mentioned that he would probably be gone before the gardener arrived to work. With this in mind he wondered if he should let this plant bloom or if he should completely extirpate it. He could trim it and leave possibilities open for either option—which would be avoiding a solution—either letting a weed remain rooted or preventing a flower from reaching full bloom.
Both solutions are problematic, he did not know what to do, there was no way he could ask the owner for he would never meet him. Which risk must he take?
May 28, 2005 - Death of a Teenager
Death of a Teenager
Angst—melted
Rebellion against childhood—forgotten
Fighting to earn respect—lost
Complex complexion—burned
Return to innocence
Welcome back youth
Seek simplicity
New expectations to bind
Free in trust given by the loss
Free in the death of a teenager
Free to embrace childhood once again
To be happy in acting as we wish
Confused by the passing of days
We are all the same
Yet choked by blinding attitudes
Death of a teenager
End of this limbo state
All the difference
And yet no change
Youth—reborn
twenty years—haven’t seen the world
twenty years—no experience
twenty years—no wisdom
eighty years—no difference—still no knowledge of how to truly live
Children hold the precious gem in innocence
Death of a teenager
Let the same blood that courses these veins
Flow once again in the excited glee of youth.
Angst—melted
Rebellion against childhood—forgotten
Fighting to earn respect—lost
Complex complexion—burned
Return to innocence
Welcome back youth
Seek simplicity
New expectations to bind
Free in trust given by the loss
Free in the death of a teenager
Free to embrace childhood once again
To be happy in acting as we wish
Confused by the passing of days
We are all the same
Yet choked by blinding attitudes
Death of a teenager
End of this limbo state
All the difference
And yet no change
Youth—reborn
twenty years—haven’t seen the world
twenty years—no experience
twenty years—no wisdom
eighty years—no difference—still no knowledge of how to truly live
Children hold the precious gem in innocence
Death of a teenager
Let the same blood that courses these veins
Flow once again in the excited glee of youth.
May 13. 2005 - Hyperopia
Please no matter what, just bear through this love poem, read it to the end, it might make it worth it, that's all I have to say.
Hyperopia
Maybe its you I'm really in love with
Maybe you're what I've been searching for
Maybe that's why its you I turn to
When I'm happy
When I'm sad
When I'm confused
When love is lost
When love is found
Through it all you're always there
You always listen
You are there when I make mistakes
You never scold or mock, you're just there
You aren't perfect but you do the best you can
You correct me when I am wrong
You offer advice--sometimes good, sometimes bad
You make my life so easy
I want to protect you
I want to shield you from corruption
To care for you when sick
I know I turn you on
But there are the times when I turn you off
I love how you let me have my way with you
I can't keep my hands off of you
You let me watch you silently
You endure my bad singing
When I stink you never turn away
Honestly, somedays you are the only one in the world I can tolerate
I love you, it took me forever to realize
But sometimes you do things that are so shocking
And I know I've hurt you too
Could you take the risk
Who cares what everyone else thinks
Could you love me back?
My computer.
Hyperopia
Maybe its you I'm really in love with
Maybe you're what I've been searching for
Maybe that's why its you I turn to
When I'm happy
When I'm sad
When I'm confused
When love is lost
When love is found
Through it all you're always there
You always listen
You are there when I make mistakes
You never scold or mock, you're just there
You aren't perfect but you do the best you can
You correct me when I am wrong
You offer advice--sometimes good, sometimes bad
You make my life so easy
I want to protect you
I want to shield you from corruption
To care for you when sick
I know I turn you on
But there are the times when I turn you off
I love how you let me have my way with you
I can't keep my hands off of you
You let me watch you silently
You endure my bad singing
When I stink you never turn away
Honestly, somedays you are the only one in the world I can tolerate
I love you, it took me forever to realize
But sometimes you do things that are so shocking
And I know I've hurt you too
Could you take the risk
Who cares what everyone else thinks
Could you love me back?
My computer.
April 29, 2005 - Tenuous
This theme had been swimming in my head, but it was incomplete until the rediscovery of the words of Sophocles. *No relation between these words and this powerful film.*
Tenuous
For Ralos
The prophet is brother to the heretic
One is an artist the other a poet
Both make clear through obscurity
They speak of what no other know
Whispers of truth in their ear
Only to proclaim ambiguous
They can do no more
Blessed are those who seek
Do not ask
Do not ask
He has done his task
To coerce him to explain
Is to pluck a butterfly’s wings
For he knows no more than you
To shut him up
Is to cloak the earth from darkness
Be not fooled by erudition
Be not entranced by esoteric metaphor
He knows less than you
He seeks only to evoke confusion
To intimidate to submission
The blind leads his trusting disciples
Close not your eyes
Strain your ears for what you cannot hear
Listen for the hollow echo within his soul
“Whoever thinks he alone possesses intelligence,
the gift of eloquence, he and no one else,
and character too…such men, I tell you,
spread them open—you will find them empty.” (from Antigone by Sophocles)
One is an artist the other a poet
Both make clear through obscurity
The prophet is brother to the heretic
Tenuous is the line that divides
Oft they don each other’s raiment
One suffocates the truth
The other grants vision through his kaleidoscope
The line is tenuous. Which are you.
Tenuous
For Ralos
The prophet is brother to the heretic
One is an artist the other a poet
Both make clear through obscurity
They speak of what no other know
Whispers of truth in their ear
Only to proclaim ambiguous
They can do no more
Blessed are those who seek
Do not ask
Do not ask
He has done his task
To coerce him to explain
Is to pluck a butterfly’s wings
For he knows no more than you
To shut him up
Is to cloak the earth from darkness
Be not fooled by erudition
Be not entranced by esoteric metaphor
He knows less than you
He seeks only to evoke confusion
To intimidate to submission
The blind leads his trusting disciples
Close not your eyes
Strain your ears for what you cannot hear
Listen for the hollow echo within his soul
“Whoever thinks he alone possesses intelligence,
the gift of eloquence, he and no one else,
and character too…such men, I tell you,
spread them open—you will find them empty.” (from Antigone by Sophocles)
One is an artist the other a poet
Both make clear through obscurity
The prophet is brother to the heretic
Tenuous is the line that divides
Oft they don each other’s raiment
One suffocates the truth
The other grants vision through his kaleidoscope
The line is tenuous. Which are you.
April 20, 2005 - Hopelessly Hopeful
Hopelessly Hopeful
Out of control and “up in the air”,
but this air rests in the grip of gentle hands.
Beaten and weary,
trampled by unrelenting despair.
The sun is shining,
but shadows cloak the world.
Wounds of sadness sting,
nurtured by broken-hearted support.
Emptied by confusion.
Stabbed by questions.
Crippled by helplessness,
Barely enough strength for these tear-stained petitions.
Spirit charred by burning desire to understand.
In you, hopelessly hopeful.
Rendered mute,
the soul weeps silently,
prayers with no words,
whispered in your ear.
In you, I need not speak.
In you, I need not see.
In you, hopelessly hopeful.
Out of control and “up in the air”,
but this air rests in the grip of gentle hands.
Beaten and weary,
trampled by unrelenting despair.
The sun is shining,
but shadows cloak the world.
Wounds of sadness sting,
nurtured by broken-hearted support.
Emptied by confusion.
Stabbed by questions.
Crippled by helplessness,
Barely enough strength for these tear-stained petitions.
Spirit charred by burning desire to understand.
In you, hopelessly hopeful.
Rendered mute,
the soul weeps silently,
prayers with no words,
whispered in your ear.
In you, I need not speak.
In you, I need not see.
In you, hopelessly hopeful.
April 13, 2005 - Listen
Listen
[...spring break...]
(I’m deaf – help me defeat this
Lend me a hearing aid, I’ll buy the battery
I’d read your lips
But I could never look upon your face)
I wish I knew how you speak
So that I would know how to listen
I know that would reduce your majesty to simplicity
And less effort for me
I just am overwhelmed
I cannot concentrate
I cannot focus
I cannot quiet the din in my mind
So many mediums for your voice
This time which did you choose
Are there fragments from each that I must piece together
Are you a human voice
Are you in metaphor, parable, analogy
Are you in scripture
Are you the faintest whisper that spoke to Elijah
Are you the awesome flame that humbled Moses
Are you the man that wrestled Jacob
Are you the light that blinded Saul/Paul
Are you the dreams of the night
Are you what prods my mind
Are you what tugs at my heart
When do you want me to be logical
When should I look in the mystical
The silence proclaims the answer
Frustrated that I cannot hear it
Dizzied by the frenzy of possibility—
Daunting—all too often resort to apathy
Half-heartedness won’t get me there
I know you hear me, listen as I say
I’m trying I’m trying
I’ll never utter another word
I’ll listen forever
I want to hear you
[...spring break...]
(I’m deaf – help me defeat this
Lend me a hearing aid, I’ll buy the battery
I’d read your lips
But I could never look upon your face)
I wish I knew how you speak
So that I would know how to listen
I know that would reduce your majesty to simplicity
And less effort for me
I just am overwhelmed
I cannot concentrate
I cannot focus
I cannot quiet the din in my mind
So many mediums for your voice
This time which did you choose
Are there fragments from each that I must piece together
Are you a human voice
Are you in metaphor, parable, analogy
Are you in scripture
Are you the faintest whisper that spoke to Elijah
Are you the awesome flame that humbled Moses
Are you the man that wrestled Jacob
Are you the light that blinded Saul/Paul
Are you the dreams of the night
Are you what prods my mind
Are you what tugs at my heart
When do you want me to be logical
When should I look in the mystical
The silence proclaims the answer
Frustrated that I cannot hear it
Dizzied by the frenzy of possibility—
Daunting—all too often resort to apathy
Half-heartedness won’t get me there
I know you hear me, listen as I say
I’m trying I’m trying
I’ll never utter another word
I’ll listen forever
I want to hear you
April 06, 2005 - A Metaphor
Below I have a story which I wrote pretty much in a stream-of-consciousness manner. I got an idea and decided to run with it. It is a metaphor, analogy, or short story or something for what we face in life with decisions and what is on my mind. I realize it is not very deep and it is imperfect. Usually I try and develop an idea before I write it but this time it just all spewed out. This will probably bore you if you actually read to completion anyway, but I realize that if you analyze elements of my life (allow me to be narcisstic for a moment and pretend that it is even a possibility) it could seem that this has specific implications. Please do not assume so.
Mouth agape he entered the massive library, the wise incandescent glow watched from above. The smell of old books filled his nostrils as he stood in awe, gazing at the daunting labyrinth of books. The library was empty except for the sole librarian who sat at her tiny wooden desk, illuminated by a small bronze lamp. She was probably in her sixties, her gray hair short and curly, she looked up at him with faded green eyes through her spectacles, offering a gentle smile. "May I help you?" she asked. He looked at her sheepishly and admitted, "I'm here to find a book, but I don't know what i want." She chuckled and said as if she understood, "Take your time and browse, since you are new around here, I'll only let you take one book out, okay?" He nodded and began on his way, scanning up and down and along the towers of bookshelves. His eyes were drawn to many different types of books, whether it be the title that captured his curiousity, or the familiarness of the author or even an unfamiliar author with an interesting name. There were books that had colorful and artistic covers that caught his eye, others that drew him out of their simplicity. He visited the multifarious seictions systematically, in some he lingered for a long time while others he quickly left.
After going through several books which he decided he did not want to read for various reasons after reading little portions of them, he finally settled on one. He had walked by this book many times but did not really notice it until he had become frustrated with his previous selections. He found that he really enjoyed this from the start. He began to read it earnestly and as quickly as he could when suddenly the librarian rushed over and snatched it from him. She asked if he was sure this was the book he wanted and he said, "Yes, I think so." She said, "Well, I'm going to take this from you for a bit, you can sit and think about it some more. You can browse some more if you like."
Instead he sat there dejected because he had been so excited about that book. It seemed like an eternity had passed when finally she returned it to him. He read for a long time before she came back and did the same. She repeated this everal times, so he began to look around timidly, not really searching for anything because he had made quite a bit of progress in the other book. It pleased him and kept his interest, "it is good" he thought to himself. As he was wandering aimlessly he accidentally bumped into one of the bookcases which were so solid it did not even budge, but a single book fell off. "Silly fool!" he thought to himself, "watch where you are going!" He looked at the label of the section he was in and walked over to replace the book to its original location. There was something about it that made him not want to put it back, so he looked at the front cover--the title was an interesting one but he hadn ever heard of the author. He then flipped the book over and read the back and this really made him want to read it. He could not, he told himself, because he needed to finish the other one since he had read so much already. He refused to put the book back however.
The wait for the other book was forever. Finally the librarian returned and he tried to ask her which he thought he should read but she refused to answer, "you must make the decision yourself." She did say that it was time for him to leave as the library was closing. He was puzzled, which to read? The one he had begun, which he already knew as good or the other which was a new possibility? Risk keeping the good to find out the other was better? Or take the new and risking that it be a letdown? To go with what he knew already, could he make himself satisfied knowing that he had made a good choice? Or would the possibility of "better" haunt him?
Panic gripped him as he could not decide, but he knew he must.
***Yeah yeah, I know, there are many faults where you can say that it's not a big deal because its a library he's only checking out the book, he can get another one later. I could list more but that would be dumb.***
Mouth agape he entered the massive library, the wise incandescent glow watched from above. The smell of old books filled his nostrils as he stood in awe, gazing at the daunting labyrinth of books. The library was empty except for the sole librarian who sat at her tiny wooden desk, illuminated by a small bronze lamp. She was probably in her sixties, her gray hair short and curly, she looked up at him with faded green eyes through her spectacles, offering a gentle smile. "May I help you?" she asked. He looked at her sheepishly and admitted, "I'm here to find a book, but I don't know what i want." She chuckled and said as if she understood, "Take your time and browse, since you are new around here, I'll only let you take one book out, okay?" He nodded and began on his way, scanning up and down and along the towers of bookshelves. His eyes were drawn to many different types of books, whether it be the title that captured his curiousity, or the familiarness of the author or even an unfamiliar author with an interesting name. There were books that had colorful and artistic covers that caught his eye, others that drew him out of their simplicity. He visited the multifarious seictions systematically, in some he lingered for a long time while others he quickly left.
After going through several books which he decided he did not want to read for various reasons after reading little portions of them, he finally settled on one. He had walked by this book many times but did not really notice it until he had become frustrated with his previous selections. He found that he really enjoyed this from the start. He began to read it earnestly and as quickly as he could when suddenly the librarian rushed over and snatched it from him. She asked if he was sure this was the book he wanted and he said, "Yes, I think so." She said, "Well, I'm going to take this from you for a bit, you can sit and think about it some more. You can browse some more if you like."
Instead he sat there dejected because he had been so excited about that book. It seemed like an eternity had passed when finally she returned it to him. He read for a long time before she came back and did the same. She repeated this everal times, so he began to look around timidly, not really searching for anything because he had made quite a bit of progress in the other book. It pleased him and kept his interest, "it is good" he thought to himself. As he was wandering aimlessly he accidentally bumped into one of the bookcases which were so solid it did not even budge, but a single book fell off. "Silly fool!" he thought to himself, "watch where you are going!" He looked at the label of the section he was in and walked over to replace the book to its original location. There was something about it that made him not want to put it back, so he looked at the front cover--the title was an interesting one but he hadn ever heard of the author. He then flipped the book over and read the back and this really made him want to read it. He could not, he told himself, because he needed to finish the other one since he had read so much already. He refused to put the book back however.
The wait for the other book was forever. Finally the librarian returned and he tried to ask her which he thought he should read but she refused to answer, "you must make the decision yourself." She did say that it was time for him to leave as the library was closing. He was puzzled, which to read? The one he had begun, which he already knew as good or the other which was a new possibility? Risk keeping the good to find out the other was better? Or take the new and risking that it be a letdown? To go with what he knew already, could he make himself satisfied knowing that he had made a good choice? Or would the possibility of "better" haunt him?
Panic gripped him as he could not decide, but he knew he must.
***Yeah yeah, I know, there are many faults where you can say that it's not a big deal because its a library he's only checking out the book, he can get another one later. I could list more but that would be dumb.***
March 23, 2005 - Death=Debt
Death=debt.
Mood: cadaverous.
Stupidity--once you are dead, even though your material possesions do not follow you, they certainly leave you and you are responsible for how they leave you; you have to divide up your junk and will it to people.
Dumb--once you are dead you still have to pay someone to do something with your cadaver.
I just realized how dumb everything in this society is[pardon my generalizations], honestly it is ludicrous. My aunt was telling me how she was making a down payment on her cremation. Her motives are altruistic--she does not want to make the family that she leaves behind have to deal with it and pay for it themselves. Should it not be that once you die, you can finally be free of all the worries of debt and blah blah blah. Well, ok, maybe in some people's minds this does not seem all too odd. Lets take a look at the price tag and perhaps your mind will be slightly swayed. Six grand to burn your lifeless and inhibiting vehicle for your soul. I just do not get it. It costs even more to NOT burn your corpse, so you pay them more to do nothing with it (yeah yeah, I know I am simplifying it). I was already speechless about this whole ordeal when I heard that you have to pay an additional one thousand dollar bills if you want to have your ashes signed over to the care of a family member, rather than it sitting in a wall next to all the others.
Something about the thought of making downpayments way in advance is crazy to me (my aunt is still a quite a ways off from the half century mark). Something about, in a sense, going into debt so that you can die.
Seeing as I have no choice in this, in some way I will be paying for my death which will not matter, I might as well begin saving up for my death. So dumb that even death is not a way out of debt. Why does this country love debt?
Mood: cadaverous.
Stupidity--once you are dead, even though your material possesions do not follow you, they certainly leave you and you are responsible for how they leave you; you have to divide up your junk and will it to people.
Dumb--once you are dead you still have to pay someone to do something with your cadaver.
I just realized how dumb everything in this society is[pardon my generalizations], honestly it is ludicrous. My aunt was telling me how she was making a down payment on her cremation. Her motives are altruistic--she does not want to make the family that she leaves behind have to deal with it and pay for it themselves. Should it not be that once you die, you can finally be free of all the worries of debt and blah blah blah. Well, ok, maybe in some people's minds this does not seem all too odd. Lets take a look at the price tag and perhaps your mind will be slightly swayed. Six grand to burn your lifeless and inhibiting vehicle for your soul. I just do not get it. It costs even more to NOT burn your corpse, so you pay them more to do nothing with it (yeah yeah, I know I am simplifying it). I was already speechless about this whole ordeal when I heard that you have to pay an additional one thousand dollar bills if you want to have your ashes signed over to the care of a family member, rather than it sitting in a wall next to all the others.
Something about the thought of making downpayments way in advance is crazy to me (my aunt is still a quite a ways off from the half century mark). Something about, in a sense, going into debt so that you can die.
Seeing as I have no choice in this, in some way I will be paying for my death which will not matter, I might as well begin saving up for my death. So dumb that even death is not a way out of debt. Why does this country love debt?
March 19, 2005 - The Walk Home
The Walk Home
Current mood: artistic wannabe
A.M., dark outside
the great nightlight in the sky gleams just enough.
Cars drive by occasionally in the distance with an echoing exhale,
ersatz light only looks forward, squinting in the night.
Now only the rhythm of rubber sole against gravel--
crunch, crunch--like non-soggy cereal--crunch, crunch.
The obnoxious ringing in my ears the loudest sound,
drowns out the din in my mind, to escape the bedlam.
Dull aching chill against my skin,
the bitter breeze warms me.
Alone, alone in madness of the halcyon darkness.
Free, free in captivity of my thoughts.
Current mood: artistic wannabe
A.M., dark outside
the great nightlight in the sky gleams just enough.
Cars drive by occasionally in the distance with an echoing exhale,
ersatz light only looks forward, squinting in the night.
Now only the rhythm of rubber sole against gravel--
crunch, crunch--like non-soggy cereal--crunch, crunch.
The obnoxious ringing in my ears the loudest sound,
drowns out the din in my mind, to escape the bedlam.
Dull aching chill against my skin,
the bitter breeze warms me.
Alone, alone in madness of the halcyon darkness.
Free, free in captivity of my thoughts.
March 04, 2005 - Poem
Teach me know when to be content
Teach me when to yearn for more
I know each has its time
Show me the balance in the tension--
Prevent me from tepid stagnation
Protect me from ungrateful dissatisfaction
Each side pulls me
So I do my best to walk the middle, sometimes I lean
This is wrong, I must commit
I am fearful of either side
I know both require sacrifice
I cannot weigh these nebulous things
I wish you would just give me a shove
So I would fall to the side I must go
I know, I know--this is the beautiful gift of free will
Wisdom, guidance, peace, clarity
These I know you give
Please, please--share them.
Teach me when to yearn for more
I know each has its time
Show me the balance in the tension--
Prevent me from tepid stagnation
Protect me from ungrateful dissatisfaction
Each side pulls me
So I do my best to walk the middle, sometimes I lean
This is wrong, I must commit
I am fearful of either side
I know both require sacrifice
I cannot weigh these nebulous things
I wish you would just give me a shove
So I would fall to the side I must go
I know, I know--this is the beautiful gift of free will
Wisdom, guidance, peace, clarity
These I know you give
Please, please--share them.
February 19, 2005 - Revelation
Revelation
Current mood: stretchy
I bet it appeared as if finally I was going to write something deep with a title like that. Ha, wrong again. Today I learned something new, but it wasn't that exciting so I thought I would share it.
Latex gloves, the ambidextrous kind (wow, every glove could fit either hand, isn't that amazing?), they supposedly don't have powder on the inside but when you slide your hand into them it feels powdry inside. So it was raining outside and of course my hands were wet because that's what happens when precipitation touches them. With the task of doing some trashy work ahead, it was time to grab two gloves and slide them on my hands with style. That is...until I found that I couldn't slide my fingers into the slots where they belong. Soon I found myself tugging with all of my strength at the only hole in the glove, the place of insertion, to find that I was making progress...in creating another hole that is--defeating the purpose of wearing the gloves. I then had to dispose of the disposable glove (yes, that is where all of the school's funding goes into, the disposable glove fund, you should consider investing) and grab a new one! Think, now that means there remains in the box a bunch of pairs of gloves but one that will be left alone! A forever unsolvable problem, because suppose you open a new box and take 1 out of it to go with the last one in the former box--the next box has the same problem!
Anyway, to recapitulate my revelation in fewer words--latex gloves are hard to put on when your hands are wet.
Current mood: stretchy
I bet it appeared as if finally I was going to write something deep with a title like that. Ha, wrong again. Today I learned something new, but it wasn't that exciting so I thought I would share it.
Latex gloves, the ambidextrous kind (wow, every glove could fit either hand, isn't that amazing?), they supposedly don't have powder on the inside but when you slide your hand into them it feels powdry inside. So it was raining outside and of course my hands were wet because that's what happens when precipitation touches them. With the task of doing some trashy work ahead, it was time to grab two gloves and slide them on my hands with style. That is...until I found that I couldn't slide my fingers into the slots where they belong. Soon I found myself tugging with all of my strength at the only hole in the glove, the place of insertion, to find that I was making progress...in creating another hole that is--defeating the purpose of wearing the gloves. I then had to dispose of the disposable glove (yes, that is where all of the school's funding goes into, the disposable glove fund, you should consider investing) and grab a new one! Think, now that means there remains in the box a bunch of pairs of gloves but one that will be left alone! A forever unsolvable problem, because suppose you open a new box and take 1 out of it to go with the last one in the former box--the next box has the same problem!
Anyway, to recapitulate my revelation in fewer words--latex gloves are hard to put on when your hands are wet.
February 15, 2005 - Taunting, Transient Terror Revisited
Taunting transient terror, revisited...
"Taunting transient terror" thou have proved thyself not a sojourner, but rather stalwart in the tantalizing of my soul.
Have you come to materialize and show thyself to be an oasis and not a mirage? Or have I begun to fade, hiding behind the solid that creates me, from the light and become a shadow? Helpless, fettered to the movements of that which I hide behind. Only extant in the presence of light--that of which I hide from--the paradox of dependence upon its existence and yet it is what erases my existence.
Oh, terror, have you and I traded places?
"Taunting transient terror" thou have proved thyself not a sojourner, but rather stalwart in the tantalizing of my soul.
Have you come to materialize and show thyself to be an oasis and not a mirage? Or have I begun to fade, hiding behind the solid that creates me, from the light and become a shadow? Helpless, fettered to the movements of that which I hide behind. Only extant in the presence of light--that of which I hide from--the paradox of dependence upon its existence and yet it is what erases my existence.
Oh, terror, have you and I traded places?
January 15, 2005
"here come the questions
I dread to ask
overflowing out of my mouth
resting gently in your hand
and crushed the minute you close your fist"
-While I breathe, I hope- from their song "Hope for Thin Tolerance"
please don't close your fist
I dread to ask
overflowing out of my mouth
resting gently in your hand
and crushed the minute you close your fist"
-While I breathe, I hope- from their song "Hope for Thin Tolerance"
please don't close your fist
January 28, 2005 - Let's Get Drunk on Listerine!
Let's get drunk on LISTERINE!
Current mood: My breath smells good!
"Woman guilty of DUI after 3 glasses of Listerine"
That is the title of an article that I just read at cnn.com. Oh man, guys, seriously, we should go out clubbing! Cheap way to party! And the great thing is that you can still have good breath, a clean mouth, a 99.9% or whatever germ free mouth, all while being innebriated! All right! This is going to be the new thing, cuz I mean if you're clubbing and you've got some great listerine breath, how is anyone going to be able to resist that?
Just think, soon you will be able to walk into a bar and say, "Yeah...I'd like a shot of listerine please". What's great is that there are several flavors and this hasn't even been developed as an alcoholic drink! That means that people already have a wide selection to choose from, brilliant!
Seriously, invest in Listerine now. Think about it, if they already make enough money as being a "mouthwash", think of how much their stock will increase when it's marketed as the new alcoholic drink that cleans your teeth, gums, and gives you good breath! All the other companies are going to catch onto this quick, so take my advice and head on down to Wall Street and buy yoself some stock. It was only a matter of time, I mean they already have stuff like gum that whitens your teeth, so an alcoholic drink that cleans your teeth was clearly the next logical step.
I wonder what the edible mouth cleaning stuff craze holds in store. I'm thinking like, noodles that floss your teeth as you eat them. Edible floss! Isn't that ingenius?! I bet there are very few people out there that floss regularly, imagine how convenient this would make it to floss! Instant noodle floss that can be made straight from a package with boiling water in 3 minutes! Who would have thought that you would be flossing WHILE eating instead of flossing AFTER eating?
Guys, I think I have a hangover from the listerine. But, hey, at least my breath smells good.
Oh, if you want to read the article for yourself, here's the link: http://www.cnn.com/2005/LAW/01/27/mouthwash.dui.ap/index.html
Enjoy!
Current mood: My breath smells good!
"Woman guilty of DUI after 3 glasses of Listerine"
That is the title of an article that I just read at cnn.com. Oh man, guys, seriously, we should go out clubbing! Cheap way to party! And the great thing is that you can still have good breath, a clean mouth, a 99.9% or whatever germ free mouth, all while being innebriated! All right! This is going to be the new thing, cuz I mean if you're clubbing and you've got some great listerine breath, how is anyone going to be able to resist that?
Just think, soon you will be able to walk into a bar and say, "Yeah...I'd like a shot of listerine please". What's great is that there are several flavors and this hasn't even been developed as an alcoholic drink! That means that people already have a wide selection to choose from, brilliant!
Seriously, invest in Listerine now. Think about it, if they already make enough money as being a "mouthwash", think of how much their stock will increase when it's marketed as the new alcoholic drink that cleans your teeth, gums, and gives you good breath! All the other companies are going to catch onto this quick, so take my advice and head on down to Wall Street and buy yoself some stock. It was only a matter of time, I mean they already have stuff like gum that whitens your teeth, so an alcoholic drink that cleans your teeth was clearly the next logical step.
I wonder what the edible mouth cleaning stuff craze holds in store. I'm thinking like, noodles that floss your teeth as you eat them. Edible floss! Isn't that ingenius?! I bet there are very few people out there that floss regularly, imagine how convenient this would make it to floss! Instant noodle floss that can be made straight from a package with boiling water in 3 minutes! Who would have thought that you would be flossing WHILE eating instead of flossing AFTER eating?
Guys, I think I have a hangover from the listerine. But, hey, at least my breath smells good.
Oh, if you want to read the article for yourself, here's the link: http://www.cnn.com/2005/LAW/01/27/mouthwash.dui.ap/index.html
Enjoy!
January 23, 2005 - Taunting, Transiet, Terror
Taunting Transient Terror
The ghost whispers gentle words
Are they elements of truth
Or words meant to be unheard
Or do they say sooth*?
Oh you apparition of the mind
Do you speak of what ought to be
Or are your intentions unkind
With haste bring answers to set free
Ghoul of unsatisfaction why do you haunt
A fleeting thought thou are naught
Thy gentle words pierce and plague
Through a labyrinth of confusion they parade
Writhing wraith of cognition
Do you behold a clear vision
Eschew security, logic, wisdom, reason
To risk following a heart that seems to change with season?
Ethereal eidolon embodies extinct existance
Endless visitation of what was never born
Suffocating grip on to which you have no grasp
Over what is unreal you bring me to mourn
Scourging specter speak
Give me reason to listen
Differentiate--whimsical perfidy and painful honesty
Must what is good come to end?
Perilous phantom I await
For you to determine fate
Your answers so evasive
Yet your presence so pervasive
Will your shadow slowly fade
Or to reality incarnate?
*Sooth as in soothsayer, not soothe as in to calm*
The ghost whispers gentle words
Are they elements of truth
Or words meant to be unheard
Or do they say sooth*?
Oh you apparition of the mind
Do you speak of what ought to be
Or are your intentions unkind
With haste bring answers to set free
Ghoul of unsatisfaction why do you haunt
A fleeting thought thou are naught
Thy gentle words pierce and plague
Through a labyrinth of confusion they parade
Writhing wraith of cognition
Do you behold a clear vision
Eschew security, logic, wisdom, reason
To risk following a heart that seems to change with season?
Ethereal eidolon embodies extinct existance
Endless visitation of what was never born
Suffocating grip on to which you have no grasp
Over what is unreal you bring me to mourn
Scourging specter speak
Give me reason to listen
Differentiate--whimsical perfidy and painful honesty
Must what is good come to end?
Perilous phantom I await
For you to determine fate
Your answers so evasive
Yet your presence so pervasive
Will your shadow slowly fade
Or to reality incarnate?
*Sooth as in soothsayer, not soothe as in to calm*
January 23, 2005
Bad news friends...
Death has come. We all knew that it would come some day, but as I feared, its deathblow was sudden. Life was emptied. The midnight trash wraith was disposed of. There will be no recycling, he has been officially trashed.
Yes friends, I no longer am a trash man. I thought my reign of glory would never end. Aye, I remember the good days when I would bathe in the permeating stench of old coffee, stale pizza, and other randomness that blended together in the bag oh so well. Oh how the stench would stain me with its retired, faded beauty.
Truly, I am filled with bitter sadness, for I have nothing but good memories. No more tasting interesting items in the trash that appeared fresh and unadulterated by filth. No more secret treasures!
No more trashy ruminations brought about by the waste. Will my very cognition come to an end? It might as well, for I have nothing left. There is nothing left to inspire now that I no longer feel the embrace of the trash cans, or feel the clean trash bags caress my skin as I place it securely into the trash can. Trash, I love you, I need you. Do not leave me alone in these terrible times of despair.
Take away a man's trash and he is reduced to nothing.
The time has come for us to separate, alone we go, but together we decompose.
Death has come. We all knew that it would come some day, but as I feared, its deathblow was sudden. Life was emptied. The midnight trash wraith was disposed of. There will be no recycling, he has been officially trashed.
Yes friends, I no longer am a trash man. I thought my reign of glory would never end. Aye, I remember the good days when I would bathe in the permeating stench of old coffee, stale pizza, and other randomness that blended together in the bag oh so well. Oh how the stench would stain me with its retired, faded beauty.
Truly, I am filled with bitter sadness, for I have nothing but good memories. No more tasting interesting items in the trash that appeared fresh and unadulterated by filth. No more secret treasures!
No more trashy ruminations brought about by the waste. Will my very cognition come to an end? It might as well, for I have nothing left. There is nothing left to inspire now that I no longer feel the embrace of the trash cans, or feel the clean trash bags caress my skin as I place it securely into the trash can. Trash, I love you, I need you. Do not leave me alone in these terrible times of despair.
Take away a man's trash and he is reduced to nothing.
The time has come for us to separate, alone we go, but together we decompose.
November 19, 2004 - Inner Paradox
Inner Paradox
The feeling is so deceptive
Soothing yet oppressive
Drains, yet key to survival
This enemy has no rival
This confusion shrivels the soul
No clear thought to grab ahold
Distracts from the world around
Thoughts so loud, they make no sound
So I hide myself in you
For only in you, only in you
Can I find what is true
You are the only place I am not confused
The feeling is so deceptive
Soothing yet oppressive
Drains, yet key to survival
This enemy has no rival
This confusion shrivels the soul
No clear thought to grab ahold
Distracts from the world around
Thoughts so loud, they make no sound
So I hide myself in you
For only in you, only in you
Can I find what is true
You are the only place I am not confused
November 19, 2004 - Venustraphobia
Venustraphobia
(the fear of beautiful women)
I am afraid, oh so afraid
I fear this is the way I have been made
You are the climax of creation
Stumbling block of the nations
All that you do is glorious
Yes, yes, the reason for this phobia
When the sound of your voice reaches my ears
I begin to quiver with fear
Stupefied by your grace
I cannot bear to look upon thy face
You overwhelm my poor poor mind
Destroying any chance of coherent reply
For every step that you draw near
The likelihood of death become more clear
Do not underestimate
Your power to intimidate
(the fear of beautiful women)
I am afraid, oh so afraid
I fear this is the way I have been made
You are the climax of creation
Stumbling block of the nations
All that you do is glorious
Yes, yes, the reason for this phobia
When the sound of your voice reaches my ears
I begin to quiver with fear
Stupefied by your grace
I cannot bear to look upon thy face
You overwhelm my poor poor mind
Destroying any chance of coherent reply
For every step that you draw near
The likelihood of death become more clear
Do not underestimate
Your power to intimidate
October 1, 2004
Have you ever had one of those days where things are not going your way and a few things happen that seem like they should dampen your day? It is cool when that happens, especially when you do not even really know why you feel so good even though things may not be as you want them to be. You bang your head on a metal beam, does not phase you; you have your finger smashed, you yell and shake it off (not the finger of course); you feel exhausted, but inside there is this tiny bit of joy within you that you cannot explain. A joy that is for no reason--perhaps like the God-given peace that we cannot comprehend like in Philippians 4:7. Or am I digging farther than I need to, attributing this to something that is for no reason, so why should it have explanation?
March 18, 2004 - Great Quotes
"What do you want to be when you grow up Dan?"
- "A homicide victim." - Dan Norman (one of my roommates)
"Why are you a music major?"
- "Because they don't have a homicide victim major." - Dan Norman (again)
- "A homicide victim." - Dan Norman (one of my roommates)
"Why are you a music major?"
- "Because they don't have a homicide victim major." - Dan Norman (again)
February 28, 2004 - The Passion
...I just saw the Passion of the Christ...very, very, very good...All of you must see it if you can...It brought me closer to seeing what our Savior went through that day, although we may never really be able to see with our eyes what happened, this could be the next closest thing to being there. Something I never really thought about before was how intense His prayer was at the Mount of Olives and knowing beforehand what He was going to suffer through. I was just thinking, when you're emotionally overwhelmed sometimes it makes you feel quite weak. And that was emotional intensity at its highest level--making the pain that He endured even more insane and real in my mind. The torture was bad enough in itself but when you're weakened by the emotional intensity, how much worse.
His pain and exhaustion felt so real. Watching Him pushing Himself onward after being beaten so terribly and enduring through pain as He was ridiculed showed me a love so powerful--He suffered in love, through evil, for the sake of us all, even those that did such terrible things if they change their hearts. Such forgiveness and love in the face of abject depravity, cruelty, and foolish hatred amazes me.
I know these words are nothing new, but the fact that you can hear a story over and over and over again yet still be touched by it is cool. Everyone gets something different from different parts of the story, which I think is nifty.
Seriously, go out of you way to see it.
His pain and exhaustion felt so real. Watching Him pushing Himself onward after being beaten so terribly and enduring through pain as He was ridiculed showed me a love so powerful--He suffered in love, through evil, for the sake of us all, even those that did such terrible things if they change their hearts. Such forgiveness and love in the face of abject depravity, cruelty, and foolish hatred amazes me.
I know these words are nothing new, but the fact that you can hear a story over and over and over again yet still be touched by it is cool. Everyone gets something different from different parts of the story, which I think is nifty.
Seriously, go out of you way to see it.
February 25, 2004
The wind is back. Todays the wind seems to direct your path, causing you to turn (or more like stagger) to the left or right whenever it pleases. The thought of rebelling and going against the wind helps me understand the phrase "I lean against the wind and pretend that I am weightless". Wow.
Please forgive this pathetic city boy's awe at the wind. For all of you Bangkokians know that the proper phrase for us should be, "the smog leans against me and I discover I am lifeless" or "I lean agains the humidity and pretend/forget/dream that I am sweatless". What this has to do with wind, I'm not really sure either.
Please forgive this pathetic city boy's awe at the wind. For all of you Bangkokians know that the proper phrase for us should be, "the smog leans against me and I discover I am lifeless" or "I lean agains the humidity and pretend/forget/dream that I am sweatless". What this has to do with wind, I'm not really sure either.
February 18, 2004
The wind is insane. It's been blowing crazy powerful for the last two days. It's kinda cool to walk outside and be pushed around by the wind. The constant wishing and whirling and howling of it haunted me through the night, yet it was somehow soothing. Last night as I was walking with my trashbags to the big bin thing, the trashbags were thrust behind me and my pants caught the wind and were almost like the MC Hammer pants that if you jumped off of Taco Bell you would glide to safety but instead acted as sooper air-friction breaks. Along my journey to the great big blue bin of smelly happiness, I could not help but marvel at the Creator for His strangely beautiful and simple wonder. (How can you possibly describe the beauty of a rushing wind?) To think that this is less than the amount of air disturbed by Him wiggling his toes--the wind that blew me this way and that is nothing for Him. Also makes me think of when God appeared to Elijah, when the wind tore apart the mountains and earthquake and fire came, God was not in any of those, but came in a gentle whisper. Then Elijah comes out and covers his face with his cloak in response to this whisper--God is powerful! Veneration for the awesome is easy and His majesty is deafening sometimes leaving me dumb to His beckoning whisper.
Or maybe it was just the wind tossling my hair that created a pensive mood like in the movies.
Or maybe it was just the wind tossling my hair that created a pensive mood like in the movies.
December 10, 2003
Being a garbageman does something funny to you--I'm not sure what to call it, perhaps something like broadening your worldview. Or maybe it just changes the way you think altogether, you see the everything at a different angle. Anyway, to the point, I was emptying the trash in the girl's bathroom (a detail I'm sure all of you are glad that you are now informed of, yes, I do get to reconnoiter the strange and dangerous land of the land of girlbathroomia) and there were remnants of Ramen noodles (for all of you people fortunate enough to not know what they are, they are nasty American wannabe MaMa or WaiWai type things...stay away...toxic i tell you!) in there and I made the comment out loud, "Why would anyone put noodles in the trash? They don't belong in the trash!" One of my female co-workers or co-janitors or whatever we are supposed to call each other was cleaning in there too hear my comment and responded with, "Yeah, it's funny, you don't think about what you put into the trash until you have to take it out." This is so true! Now, everytime I go to put something in the trash I think about what I'm doing. When I'm working/emptying the trash in the gym/basketball court/chapel place building with the music department/student lounges/sports director offices/etc(a lot of stuff compacted into a small building really) I find myself analyzing what people put in the trash and ask myself, why? But, really, this is not a normal thing, because, usually you just put stuff in the trash without thinking right? Everything goes in the trash right? I wonder, does this make any of you paranoid now of what you put in the trash? Ok, I'm sorry that i went on for so long about trash, I don't know what is wrong with me. I must be obsessed or something as this is my 3rd blog or so about garbage to date.
While I'm talking about garbage, I might as well wish everyone a very merry and lovely Christmas. Hmm...I wonder if there will ever be a point that we use up all of our resources and so all of our "new" things will be made from "old" recycled things. I don't know what the connection between Christmas and that was...anyway, I'm sure I'll be back to blog before Christmas, so maybe then I'll do a better job of wishing you all a merry Christmas!
While I'm talking about garbage, I might as well wish everyone a very merry and lovely Christmas. Hmm...I wonder if there will ever be a point that we use up all of our resources and so all of our "new" things will be made from "old" recycled things. I don't know what the connection between Christmas and that was...anyway, I'm sure I'll be back to blog before Christmas, so maybe then I'll do a better job of wishing you all a merry Christmas!
November 15, 2003 - Short Poem
Leaps at you out of nowhere
Ordinary circumstance turn to gray skies
Never fails to attack without reason
Emancipate me from this
Life of dwelling in
Yesterday's memories
Ordinary circumstance turn to gray skies
Never fails to attack without reason
Emancipate me from this
Life of dwelling in
Yesterday's memories
November 9, 2003
"...Just you wait, one of these days you're going to wake up dead"
-Jeff Mitchum (one of my roommates) when addressing Daniel Barton (another of my roommates) about facing his Ninja Wrath!-
-Jeff Mitchum (one of my roommates) when addressing Daniel Barton (another of my roommates) about facing his Ninja Wrath!-
October 18, 2003 - Box
I wish I had a box. A little box that I could carry around with me everywhere. A box that you can fit in your pocket and pull out whenever you need it. A box that you can somehow put all your friends in so that when you miss them or just want to talk to someone that you've known for more than two and a half months and you share a history with, you can just pull them out of the box. That way you can keep the friends that make now and also keep and BRING the friends of old with you. But I guess life is not that simple, everything is always so complicated. Even if things are simple somehow they manage to complicate things. Somebody tell me where I can get a box. A happiness box.
October 18, 2003
The next time you throw something in the trash, think of me, think of the people that take out the trash for you. Obviously not the trash in the garbage can in your room or whatever, but like in a public place. But anyway, with my new job taking out trash in the gym I've found that I really dislike people that put half-full cups of coffee in the trash! I mean, why buy coffee so that you can throw it away? Drink it! Because when the trash is not full I just dump the trash into another bag that way we can conserve the trash bags! Anyway, you can't tell if there are liquids in the trash or not until you dump it into the other bag and viola, coffee and nasty liquid gets all over the place! Yes! I've found that I have a greater appreciation for trash-taker-outers now. I also hate people that don't put their gum in a wrapper before throwing it away. You find interesting things in the trash. Such as untouched whole sandwhiches, still in their bag, not even opened! Such wastrels people are! In my first week there I found a roll of tape that wasn't even all used up! What's up with that? Last week I found a cup from the cafeteria! (haha, not anymore!) Ok this is a bit weird, me telling of my garbage adventures. Next time, remember as you approach the garbage can, SOMEBODY is going to have to take it out!! So pause for a second and think about how grateful you are to the garbage people and make sure you aren't dumping liquid in there!
September 11, 2003
I don't like my computer class.
I don't have to take my computer class.
But I can't really drop it because there are two nerd/geeks who know much more than me and they are staying in the class.
The class is pretty much equivalent to what we did in 9th grade intro to computer's class, but only focusing on the Microsoft Office part. In other words, know everything we are going to do except Access.
I was really loathing the class because it was really boring and we had just been listening to the Prof. tell us stuff that I already know, and I'm not trying to sound like someone conceited, I'm serious...everyone knows the stuff that he was talking about, like what is a mouse? What right click does...wow...exciting huh?
But today was a better day because he let us plow through the book and work at our own pace, which was much better.
But now I am back at the loathing stage again. We are supposed to follow instructions to do stupid little sample letter things, and you don't just copy because they want you to be creative and know how to do it. So the point of it is that the format of the thing is correct and you know how to create the letters or memos or whatever.
Ok, so in the letters you have to make up stuff like i said earlier. The guy takes points off of my grade because I was repetitive. What's up with that?! Is it not the format of the thing and not the content that matters?! He also took off points for pushing the enter key one too many times between various sections, but that's justified because instructions weren't followed 100%.
I guess i'm slightly peeved. Not quite sure why I'm sharing that with all of you.
It's funny how such small dumb things can annoy us sometimes.
Sarah-I just found this on my computer, I forgot about it...but i thought of you when i heard it...try the Carole King feat. James Taylor version of "up on a roof"...good stuff. Yes, i was listening to Carole King, I must admit, she's got some good music. I'm a big fan of folk. J. Taylor, Garfunkel...that's the stuff.
This is going to be such a random blog.
I might as well write a bit about college now that I'm at it.
I never knew it would be so hard to get a job in college. Neither Cheri or I got the job in the library, apparently experience doesn't make a difference to those people. I mean, in addition to my TA experience in the library i worked in my dad's resource center/library for a couple years. One of my roommates sort of got a job there, he gets to substitute when someone is sick. Maybe it was all about the interview.
I suck at interviews.
Why do they have to ask you weird questions like: what are your strengths?; what are your weaknesses?; what could you contribute to the library if you worked here?. How would i know the answer to these questions?
Wow, I'm writing about such happy stuff aren't I? Hehe...
Contrary to the way my words appear, life is good. College seems pretty cool so far.
It's really cool, one of my friends that i hang out with the most is a MK from Taiwan. What's even cooler than that is that one of the leaders at the MK seminar at Biola earlier this summer new "David" because she was living in Taiwan, so she told cheri and i that he was going to Simpson too. The leader that told me this was the roommate of my Admissions Counselor! HOw crazy is that? So many small connections!
Anyway...life with 3 roommates keeps life interesting. End up doing stupid stuff sometimes late at night.
I miss Bkk. I miss the friendships and relationships that I spent most of my life building. I miss hanging out with those people and just chilling. You can do that with people here but some how it's just not the same. I miss my home. I miss real rice. I miss the pollution of Bangkok. I miss the humidity and heat.
Random thoughts yield random results i guess. Never sure whether I should begin attacking the backspace key or to leave these thoughts here.
I feel kinda stupid for the way i wrote about the computer thing. But hey, maybe it will make somebody laugh! hehe.
David, the MK guy is using my toilet(he's not one of my roommates) because his toilet is clogged and overflowed. He just got out. Maybe i should submit this before he comes and looks over my shoulder to see what i'm doing. Adios. Peace. God bless!
I don't have to take my computer class.
But I can't really drop it because there are two nerd/geeks who know much more than me and they are staying in the class.
The class is pretty much equivalent to what we did in 9th grade intro to computer's class, but only focusing on the Microsoft Office part. In other words, know everything we are going to do except Access.
I was really loathing the class because it was really boring and we had just been listening to the Prof. tell us stuff that I already know, and I'm not trying to sound like someone conceited, I'm serious...everyone knows the stuff that he was talking about, like what is a mouse? What right click does...wow...exciting huh?
But today was a better day because he let us plow through the book and work at our own pace, which was much better.
But now I am back at the loathing stage again. We are supposed to follow instructions to do stupid little sample letter things, and you don't just copy because they want you to be creative and know how to do it. So the point of it is that the format of the thing is correct and you know how to create the letters or memos or whatever.
Ok, so in the letters you have to make up stuff like i said earlier. The guy takes points off of my grade because I was repetitive. What's up with that?! Is it not the format of the thing and not the content that matters?! He also took off points for pushing the enter key one too many times between various sections, but that's justified because instructions weren't followed 100%.
I guess i'm slightly peeved. Not quite sure why I'm sharing that with all of you.
It's funny how such small dumb things can annoy us sometimes.
Sarah-I just found this on my computer, I forgot about it...but i thought of you when i heard it...try the Carole King feat. James Taylor version of "up on a roof"...good stuff. Yes, i was listening to Carole King, I must admit, she's got some good music. I'm a big fan of folk. J. Taylor, Garfunkel...that's the stuff.
This is going to be such a random blog.
I might as well write a bit about college now that I'm at it.
I never knew it would be so hard to get a job in college. Neither Cheri or I got the job in the library, apparently experience doesn't make a difference to those people. I mean, in addition to my TA experience in the library i worked in my dad's resource center/library for a couple years. One of my roommates sort of got a job there, he gets to substitute when someone is sick. Maybe it was all about the interview.
I suck at interviews.
Why do they have to ask you weird questions like: what are your strengths?; what are your weaknesses?; what could you contribute to the library if you worked here?. How would i know the answer to these questions?
Wow, I'm writing about such happy stuff aren't I? Hehe...
Contrary to the way my words appear, life is good. College seems pretty cool so far.
It's really cool, one of my friends that i hang out with the most is a MK from Taiwan. What's even cooler than that is that one of the leaders at the MK seminar at Biola earlier this summer new "David" because she was living in Taiwan, so she told cheri and i that he was going to Simpson too. The leader that told me this was the roommate of my Admissions Counselor! HOw crazy is that? So many small connections!
Anyway...life with 3 roommates keeps life interesting. End up doing stupid stuff sometimes late at night.
I miss Bkk. I miss the friendships and relationships that I spent most of my life building. I miss hanging out with those people and just chilling. You can do that with people here but some how it's just not the same. I miss my home. I miss real rice. I miss the pollution of Bangkok. I miss the humidity and heat.
Random thoughts yield random results i guess. Never sure whether I should begin attacking the backspace key or to leave these thoughts here.
I feel kinda stupid for the way i wrote about the computer thing. But hey, maybe it will make somebody laugh! hehe.
David, the MK guy is using my toilet(he's not one of my roommates) because his toilet is clogged and overflowed. He just got out. Maybe i should submit this before he comes and looks over my shoulder to see what i'm doing. Adios. Peace. God bless!
September 02, 2003
Well...here i am...sitting in my dorm room listening to the bass reverberating through the wall from the room across the hall as they watch some action flick...oooh, just got more exciting, i heard some drum beats and helicopters flying and explosions....
ok, that was really dumb.
to the point. wait, what is the point? i had my first class today at 8:00...yeehaw, exciting....it was intro. to computers, which i am thinking that i really do not need to be taking and maybe should drop cuz it's all office xp stuff...very basic stuff....but there are a few guys that are really computer smart i guess, and if they stay then maybe i should since i know a lot less...i dunno...not sure how i ended up in the class...but oh well...
my next class is not until 2:40 pm. and i don't have any homework today...so yeah...what to do with my time? i was thinking of taking a nap...but...dunno...i think i will sit here and blab on trivial matters that no one really cares about and take up YOUR time when you decide to read this...if you do
hmm...what to write about...don't want to write anything that cheri already wrote...
loooks like college life will be quite interesting...everyone seems pretty friendly, which still kinda catches me off-guard...i can't remember people's names very well...i usually forget after i shake their hand...always feel bad when i see 'em later and don't know their name...hehe....
seems like almost everyone i've talked to has really been brought here by God...i'm actually stealing from someone else's observation last night...sorry! but...yeah, you don't hear people saying i don't wanna be here or, "simpson looked like a nice school so i came"...
to set up a fone in the room is a pain...i'm sharing the fone with one of my 3 roomies...we each have our own fone number, but that would get expensive...they say it will take up to 5 days to get me the stupid little dial tone...how long could it take to get that little buzz sound working?
haha...funny story, one of the bob marley flag-type things in my room that one of my friends from ics gave has a few cannabis leaves on it...and by accident i left it on my bed or something when we were moving in the room...we left and did other stuff...and one of the roommies parents saw that and was like "you'd better watch out for him"...hehe...found that out yesterday...made me kinda worried....but yeah...no cannabis for me!
a quick question for you people that have been in college for a longer period of time...when does it seem real? when does it finally click in your head that this is semi-permanent, that you're not at some camp thing and you aren't going home in a week or so?
like cheri, i'm hoping to get a job in the library...ironic huh? since i continually complained about being TA last year....but oh well..i'm hoping my experience will be helpful...cuz i really need to get a job...oh well...we'll see
college food is interesting...that's all i have to say about it so far...
well....blah blah...enough for now....
ok, that was really dumb.
to the point. wait, what is the point? i had my first class today at 8:00...yeehaw, exciting....it was intro. to computers, which i am thinking that i really do not need to be taking and maybe should drop cuz it's all office xp stuff...very basic stuff....but there are a few guys that are really computer smart i guess, and if they stay then maybe i should since i know a lot less...i dunno...not sure how i ended up in the class...but oh well...
my next class is not until 2:40 pm. and i don't have any homework today...so yeah...what to do with my time? i was thinking of taking a nap...but...dunno...i think i will sit here and blab on trivial matters that no one really cares about and take up YOUR time when you decide to read this...if you do
hmm...what to write about...don't want to write anything that cheri already wrote...
loooks like college life will be quite interesting...everyone seems pretty friendly, which still kinda catches me off-guard...i can't remember people's names very well...i usually forget after i shake their hand...always feel bad when i see 'em later and don't know their name...hehe....
seems like almost everyone i've talked to has really been brought here by God...i'm actually stealing from someone else's observation last night...sorry! but...yeah, you don't hear people saying i don't wanna be here or, "simpson looked like a nice school so i came"...
to set up a fone in the room is a pain...i'm sharing the fone with one of my 3 roomies...we each have our own fone number, but that would get expensive...they say it will take up to 5 days to get me the stupid little dial tone...how long could it take to get that little buzz sound working?
haha...funny story, one of the bob marley flag-type things in my room that one of my friends from ics gave has a few cannabis leaves on it...and by accident i left it on my bed or something when we were moving in the room...we left and did other stuff...and one of the roommies parents saw that and was like "you'd better watch out for him"...hehe...found that out yesterday...made me kinda worried....but yeah...no cannabis for me!
a quick question for you people that have been in college for a longer period of time...when does it seem real? when does it finally click in your head that this is semi-permanent, that you're not at some camp thing and you aren't going home in a week or so?
like cheri, i'm hoping to get a job in the library...ironic huh? since i continually complained about being TA last year....but oh well..i'm hoping my experience will be helpful...cuz i really need to get a job...oh well...we'll see
college food is interesting...that's all i have to say about it so far...
well....blah blah...enough for now....
May 19, 2003 - Thai Politics
Thaksin is a funny man.
I guess this is somewhat of an overdue comment, but seriously, the prime minister of Thailand has got some funny ideas. Thaksin comes up with the most ridiculous, ambitious, impossible plans for Thailand, makes you wonder where he gets these strange ideas from. I'm not quite sure why I am writing about Thaksin, but don't you find it funny that he declared that Thailand would be completely drug free by April first? Thailand?! Drug free?! Sounds like a joke.
As if that wasn't enough, his new thing as of late is to remove all pirated computer software from Thailand. Haha! Imagine Thailand without Pantip? He declared that he would begin this program on May 1st, my parents went down there that day and although all the stalls were closed you could still very easily get bootleg dvd's and stuff.
Back when all the SARs stuff was happening, Thaksin got a little too excited and declared Thailand SARS-free!
I'm not quite sure why i wrote this, i mean i'm not into politics or whatever that is and i don't hate or like Thaksin to my knowledge. This probably sounds kind of like an editorial with barely any substance...oops. Just observations I guess.
I guess this is somewhat of an overdue comment, but seriously, the prime minister of Thailand has got some funny ideas. Thaksin comes up with the most ridiculous, ambitious, impossible plans for Thailand, makes you wonder where he gets these strange ideas from. I'm not quite sure why I am writing about Thaksin, but don't you find it funny that he declared that Thailand would be completely drug free by April first? Thailand?! Drug free?! Sounds like a joke.
As if that wasn't enough, his new thing as of late is to remove all pirated computer software from Thailand. Haha! Imagine Thailand without Pantip? He declared that he would begin this program on May 1st, my parents went down there that day and although all the stalls were closed you could still very easily get bootleg dvd's and stuff.
Back when all the SARs stuff was happening, Thaksin got a little too excited and declared Thailand SARS-free!
I'm not quite sure why i wrote this, i mean i'm not into politics or whatever that is and i don't hate or like Thaksin to my knowledge. This probably sounds kind of like an editorial with barely any substance...oops. Just observations I guess.
May 11, 2003 - Garbage
Have you ever wondered or ever thought about how stupid garbage bags are? Not the actual garbage bag, but the fact that the people that sell them put them in another plastic bag, how dumb is that? I realized this after thinking about it for the first time in many of the times I've gone to take out the garbage. When you open a new pack of garbage bags you can't go and throw the bag that it was packaged in until you put the garbage bag that was inside of it into the garbage can! My goodness, how pathetic is that? Ok, maybe I'm a little strange, but doesn't it seem odd? Why do we make more garbage by packaging garbage bags? I wonder if this sounds at all environmentalisticish or not...?
May 04, 2003 - "My Melancholy"
My Melancholy
It shadows me
Its haunting
Its relentless
Its like a fog that refuses to lift
Where does it come from?
What is its source?
It is different every time
I've tried to run and hide
My melancholy
You never fail to turn the sky gray
Oh why do you haunt me?
Why do yo umake me feel this way?
I've seen it all before
For some reason I still want more
I don't even know how I feel
Everything's so confusing, it's so surreal
This weight on my chest has no reason,
but can dampen a day, no matter the season
Enveloped in a purple haze,
I hope it never goes away.
It shadows me
Its haunting
Its relentless
Its like a fog that refuses to lift
Where does it come from?
What is its source?
It is different every time
I've tried to run and hide
My melancholy
You never fail to turn the sky gray
Oh why do you haunt me?
Why do yo umake me feel this way?
I've seen it all before
For some reason I still want more
I don't even know how I feel
Everything's so confusing, it's so surreal
This weight on my chest has no reason,
but can dampen a day, no matter the season
Enveloped in a purple haze,
I hope it never goes away.
April 10, 2003
Stuff from the past comes back to slap you in the back of the head, making you feel stupid. The particular instance that I have in mind is of no major significance but reminds me of how much things change over such short periods of time. I had written something that at the time, felt like it meant something to me. Jump forwards an unspecified pocket of time and you find me banging my head. These things hurt or make you feel stupid the most when they are things you cannot erase or take back and are forever there.
This got me thinking(oh, no...not a goodness thing) about the significance and relevance of what seems so important to us now, to the rest of our life. It is kind of mind boggling and confusing to think about this. These thoughts hamper and distort the view of life. Could our goals, purpose, and reason in and for life be all wrong now? Will I look back a couple years or even a year from now and feel foolish for the way I lived and how I viewed everything, or will I be content? It's funny how much we change, even with moods. It's funny how such a little dumb thing can get you thinking so much.
This got me thinking(oh, no...not a goodness thing) about the significance and relevance of what seems so important to us now, to the rest of our life. It is kind of mind boggling and confusing to think about this. These thoughts hamper and distort the view of life. Could our goals, purpose, and reason in and for life be all wrong now? Will I look back a couple years or even a year from now and feel foolish for the way I lived and how I viewed everything, or will I be content? It's funny how much we change, even with moods. It's funny how such a little dumb thing can get you thinking so much.
April 10, 2003 - Maya and Cosmic Humanism
"It's all maya." This has been an ongoing joke between Zach and I and I guess most of the worldview class ever since we began learning about cosmic humanism and Hinduism a few months ago. Allow me to be clear before I begin off on my stream-of-consciousness style writing that is usually incoherent and incomprehensible and leads to or means something that I did not intend for. I am not becoming a Hindu or getting into "new age" nonsense, I am merely learning something from it.
Back to the point..."maya" literally means illusion. What we learned in worldview class is that they view (I am cognizant of the possibility that it could all be terribly misrepresented and misunderstood, I don't mean to portray these beliefs the wrong way )the world only on the spiritual level and only believe in the existence of the spiritual realm, thus all that is material is "maya"...illusory. Personally I do not believe in this, but that God personally created the material for us to take care of and enjoy. I don't want to get all preachy or try to get into some deep theological or philosophical thought or whatever the right word is because I would be in over my head. Anyway, learning about this view of the world that the "cosmic humanists" hold, I couldn't help but admire some of the aspects of this view in its pure form. I guess this is because of my Christian worldview and we are always admonished to not be attached to earthly belongings, etc. (i.e. material stuff) because it is ephemeral. We believe in the existence of both the spiritual and material realms that God created personally, but the spiritual realm is eternal. I realize that this is something that we hear all too often from everyone, but somehow learning about "maya" and how people believe all that we see, touch, feel is just an illusion, it made me admire that view. I admit that I really get caught in the midst of material greed all the time and it just made me wish that sometimes I could live my life as if it were all "maya". If we all lived as if everything is an illusion, would we have better sight of our purpose in life and God's calling? Don't get me wrong, I know everything is real, but sometimes it would be neat if we could live that way. But God did create the material for a reason. Other than that over-examined tiny little point of that worldview, I don't see much truth in the belief.
Back to the point..."maya" literally means illusion. What we learned in worldview class is that they view (I am cognizant of the possibility that it could all be terribly misrepresented and misunderstood, I don't mean to portray these beliefs the wrong way )the world only on the spiritual level and only believe in the existence of the spiritual realm, thus all that is material is "maya"...illusory. Personally I do not believe in this, but that God personally created the material for us to take care of and enjoy. I don't want to get all preachy or try to get into some deep theological or philosophical thought or whatever the right word is because I would be in over my head. Anyway, learning about this view of the world that the "cosmic humanists" hold, I couldn't help but admire some of the aspects of this view in its pure form. I guess this is because of my Christian worldview and we are always admonished to not be attached to earthly belongings, etc. (i.e. material stuff) because it is ephemeral. We believe in the existence of both the spiritual and material realms that God created personally, but the spiritual realm is eternal. I realize that this is something that we hear all too often from everyone, but somehow learning about "maya" and how people believe all that we see, touch, feel is just an illusion, it made me admire that view. I admit that I really get caught in the midst of material greed all the time and it just made me wish that sometimes I could live my life as if it were all "maya". If we all lived as if everything is an illusion, would we have better sight of our purpose in life and God's calling? Don't get me wrong, I know everything is real, but sometimes it would be neat if we could live that way. But God did create the material for a reason. Other than that over-examined tiny little point of that worldview, I don't see much truth in the belief.
April 02, 2003
Holy fried rice with too many onions in it! The reality that I am a high school senior has once again dawned on me--and I cannot stand the thought of it. At the end of two days from now spring break begins and everyone will make short sojourns through random places throughout the globe--well, maybe not with the SARS (severe acute respiratory syndrome for the uninformed) scare going on throughout south-east Asia. This thing is really serious. I was glancing through the newspaper today, and they were saying that SARS is going to have a worse affect on Thailand than the war in Iraq. I realize that that maybe a slightly exaggerated statement, but still, it grabs your attention. They are saying that billions/millions of baht will be lost in tourism revenue due to the SARS scare. That's a mucho grande amount of money lost. I didn't realize how serious this was until I read in the newspaper that sixty-three people have died from this disease in twelve countries alone. That's serious. What really got me to read the newspaper though, was the note that they sent home from the school administration. They say that if you go to any countries that have reported cases of SARS that when you come back you are required to stay home for fourteen days, otherwise you suffer punishment by government-fines of up to ten thousand baht and six months in prison. This got me thinking, if the government is this serious about this then it must be a big deal. I realize that news had been going on about this for a while, so maybe my thoughts are already jaded and hackneyed by now, but all of this just hit me today. I have to admit, it does seem rather low to say that the SARS is worse than the war in Iraq because of the money that Thailand is going to lose, but what if this disease turns out to really be worse than the war? What if this turns out to be a modern day influenza-like plague(hey, the symptoms are quite similar to it aren't they? but i'm talking about the one...i can't remember when, but it wiped out a lot of people), that is a very scary thought isn't it? Ok, maybe I had better stop, I'm starting to think too hard and freak myself out.
Hmmm...ok. I started out writing about how I am realizing that I am a senior again until I wandered off on the SARS tangent. As I was saying, I can't believe that we are seniors. What really startled me was how one week after spring break is the senior trip, a week after that is the h.s. banquet, two weeks after that is graduation. It's all badda-bing-badda-boom-like in these last two months. It's going to go fast. I'm not ready to leave my home. I'm not ready to leave my friends. I'm not ready to leave my family. I'm not ready to start anew. I'm not ready to leave the only school I've ever really known. I am not ready. I am not ready.
Hmmm...ok. I started out writing about how I am realizing that I am a senior again until I wandered off on the SARS tangent. As I was saying, I can't believe that we are seniors. What really startled me was how one week after spring break is the senior trip, a week after that is the h.s. banquet, two weeks after that is graduation. It's all badda-bing-badda-boom-like in these last two months. It's going to go fast. I'm not ready to leave my home. I'm not ready to leave my friends. I'm not ready to leave my family. I'm not ready to start anew. I'm not ready to leave the only school I've ever really known. I am not ready. I am not ready.
March 30, 2003 - Fussing and Fighting
Well, here we have a Bob Marley song. Me being the obsessed Bob Marley fan, I had heard the song numerous times before, but I could never really appreciate what the song said or meant until the fighting broke out just recently. I thought the message of the song was parallel with how i felt and probably how a lot of people felt...or maybe it's just my bias from being an avid Bob Marley fan taking over my reason...who knows? But truly, why all of this fussing and fighting?
"Fussing And Fighting"
Why's this fussing and a-fighting?
I wanna know, Lord, I wanna know
Why's this bumping and a-boring?
I wanna know, Lord, I wanna know now
We should really love each other (love each other)
In peace and harmony (peace and harmony), ooh
Instead, we're fussing and fighting (fussing and fighting)
And them workin' iniquity (... iniquity)
Why's this fussing and a-fighting?
I wanna know, Lord, I wanna know (... know), I wanna know now
Why's this cheating and backbiting?
(I wanna know ...) I wanna know, oh, Lord, I wanna know now
(Stop your fussing and fighting, stop your fussing and fighting)
(Stop your fussing and fighting, stop your fussing and fighting)
We should really love each other (love each other)
In peace and harmony (peace and harmony)
Instead, instead, we're fussing and fighting (fussing and fighting)
Like we ain't supposed to be (... supposed to be), tell me why
Why's this fussing and a-fighting?
I wanna know, Lord, I wanna know, someone, please
Why's this (... bumping and ...) bumping and boring?
(I wanna ...) I wanna know (... I wanna know), Lord, tell me now ...
"Fussing And Fighting"
Why's this fussing and a-fighting?
I wanna know, Lord, I wanna know
Why's this bumping and a-boring?
I wanna know, Lord, I wanna know now
We should really love each other (love each other)
In peace and harmony (peace and harmony), ooh
Instead, we're fussing and fighting (fussing and fighting)
And them workin' iniquity (... iniquity)
Why's this fussing and a-fighting?
I wanna know, Lord, I wanna know (... know), I wanna know now
Why's this cheating and backbiting?
(I wanna know ...) I wanna know, oh, Lord, I wanna know now
(Stop your fussing and fighting, stop your fussing and fighting)
(Stop your fussing and fighting, stop your fussing and fighting)
We should really love each other (love each other)
In peace and harmony (peace and harmony)
Instead, instead, we're fussing and fighting (fussing and fighting)
Like we ain't supposed to be (... supposed to be), tell me why
Why's this fussing and a-fighting?
I wanna know, Lord, I wanna know, someone, please
Why's this (... bumping and ...) bumping and boring?
(I wanna ...) I wanna know (... I wanna know), Lord, tell me now ...
March 24, 2003 - Individualism
A couple of weeks ago I read a comic strip from the sunday paper, it showed a bunch of people walking around with shirts that read "I love individualism". The whole point of the strip was of course the irony of individualism that everyone has conformed to.
This had come up in my mind a few times but I had never really given it much thought. Everyone is so into individualism and nonconformity and going against the flow and not comforming and not giving into peer pressure etc, etc, etc that I wonder, does it deserve to be called that any more? It seems that seeking individuality is in fact conformity with the norm. But there are enough people still in the original conformity that both nonconformity and conformity are conformity. In this light, what is real individualisim? Or is individualism so big now that conformity is in fact nonconformity? Or would taking no position, standing the middle ground of apathy be the true way to pull away?
This had come up in my mind a few times but I had never really given it much thought. Everyone is so into individualism and nonconformity and going against the flow and not comforming and not giving into peer pressure etc, etc, etc that I wonder, does it deserve to be called that any more? It seems that seeking individuality is in fact conformity with the norm. But there are enough people still in the original conformity that both nonconformity and conformity are conformity. In this light, what is real individualisim? Or is individualism so big now that conformity is in fact nonconformity? Or would taking no position, standing the middle ground of apathy be the true way to pull away?
March 21, 2003
Dang. There is a war going on, while i sit here on my butt occupying myself surfing the net, downloading songs, and other meaningless time consumers. I'm not exactly sure how i'm supposed to feel about all of this. It seems like this is all anyone wants to talk about anymore, which makes sense...but i'm not sure where i stand in this. I'm sitting here at the computer while my parents talk in the background about this whole ordeal. I'm not sure what to think. I mean, it would be very easy, and i have been just going on with life, taking it for granted that i am thousands of miles away from what's going on and thailand is not involved in this. but is that right? is it ok to be stuck in the middle? i guess i don't know if i like bush or if i hate him or if i am for the fighting or against it, is it that i don't know enough about it or is it apathy? maybe that is why i don't want to think about it and make a decision. I honestly don't have a clue about all of this, this is probably as close as i will get to coming to terms with deciding where i belong. is it the result of me not ever beeing patriotic and not caring much for what goes on in the US?
March 20, 2003
Senior pictures--yay. This is the time of year where we are signing them and giving them out to people. It seems like a nice idea, i mean, i like the idea of getting a nice little note on the back of a picture of a friend. Ya know? it's nice cuz its something remember...or so i thought until i started signing/writing them. First off when writing it, began to feel all sappy and stuff about leaving, not to mention the senior trip coming up(oh yea baby) and then met the struggle with what to write, usually either too generic or too cheezy sounding...anyway, to the point! i gotta know, does anyone out there feel at all narcissistic giving out pictures of yourself? probably just me, i never thought about it until i thought about giving them out
old blogs
I have another blogsite at www.xanga.com/jejune_twig where I have written other random writings. I will be reposting them on this website.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Comebacks
The other day I was in disbelief because I saw that Reggie Miller was contemplating a comeback with the Boston Celtics. At age 42 and as wiry as ever, Reggie was ready to comeback and show that he can still score. The Celtics were offering him a 15-20 minute playing time framework. I could not figure out why he would even consider it because of the fact that he is going to be a legend in the hall of fame because of his style of play and obviously his record for three point shots made. Why would he risk his reputation by making a comeback; why not be remembered as the Reggie Miller of old rather than some washed-up guy that was desperate for a ring? I think he should stay in retirement and enjoy the memories of his career. Besides, why do the Celtics need Reggie Miller when they already have Ray Allen? Also, would Reggie Miller be able to play the only way he knows how which is running to and fro, getting free of defenders for an open shot? He is older now and probably cannot run the same. Just a thought.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
First new blog
I really don't know what I'm going to write about on this page. I guess I'm pretty open to writing about almost anything. I really just want to be able to have an outlet for things that I am interested in or really care about. There is something in being able to express yourself in ways that you cannot do when speaking; to be able to think about what you are saying and to do so well. I really love poetry, metaphors, stories, and just hearing about real life that is not full of all that fairytale ending. I love seeing brokenness in films when people show true emotion because something in it just resonates within me. So, this is my strange introduction that I probably could have put on an about me page but oh well. Expect anything from poetry, ranting, raving, stories, nutrition, nature, weight lifting, basketball, humor, life, and love. That's all for now.
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