Worte, Parole, Mots, Verba

Dictionaries, spellbooks, novels, newspapers, advertisements; words are everywhere. Many individuals struggle with expressing themselves, as it is difficult deciding on which words to let loose from their lips. I am one such person; words simply do not come to me as quickly or transitionally as most people. Sometimes (and more often than not) I use hand gestures to attempt to communicate my point and to please the reciever of my "hand dialogue." However, I find it quite ironic, because, despite being shy and quiet, I am a singer, and have been in my school (and church choir when I was little) since pre-school. I suppose the beauty of words set to music to add a vocal element to the piece makes me light up with the greatest of awe. I also write, often and sometimes not enough; my best topic of choice, to converse about or actually perform.
However, sometimes I wonder if, maybe I were to become more outgoing and "entertaining," according to modern human standards of people who put their two cents into a conversation, I might finally be able to fit in and make aquaintances better, as I have difficulty with that immensely. But, I suppose you can't have your cake and eat it too, so I suppose I'll have the wonderful flowery language only in my writing and leave the short, simplicity of my Neanderthal speech to my spoken word. *Picture by 'SSilence on deviantArt*
~Life may not be a utopia, but look around you, it sure is beautiful sometimes.~

Life, Ink.

A shape, a symbol, a message, a memory, a loved one. Tattoos all have various meaning, some more so than others. I suppose there are certain people who find tattoos vulgar, against nature or against their religion, or even ugly, but there are also quite a few others that find an inked, permanent work to be full of meaning, a visual expression of art and rembrance. Usually they are significant of a loved one, loved pet, or a special event in the wearer's life, but often they are for fun, an 18th birthday occasion. My brother is one such recipient, as his tattoos are more for cosmetic appeal, rather than a deeper meaning, and I believe this may be because he got them on a whim, eager to "look cooler." He has a couple skulls and markings on his biceps and right forearm, but regrets his just-eighteen-and-ready-to-get-inked mentality, and now says he wants to get them covered with grander, more elaborate tattoos. So I suppose critics of tattoos might say that to have something permanently etched into your skin (as a choice) may not always be beneficial to the "human canvas" we sometimes think we are. Often, a person might decide they no longer enjoy the tattoo, or it was a stupid decision, or they get drunk and get an "I heart Mom" tattoo, in a most inappropriate place, or even find that as they get older, the tattoo they found awesome a few years ago now isn't suited for the workplace, or something to that effect.
But yet the thing that intrigues so many to the art of tattooing is the beauty of having a story illustrated on one's body; a beautiful, picturesque view of their life, a dragon taking off into the sky, a mermaid splashing in a lagoon, brightly colored flowers surrounding a cross, always honoring.

I Proudly Present...

No one human has everything, but yet not even the poorest 3rd world child has nothing. Each member of the human race is born with a gift, a unique opportunity to bestow upon the world in our own manner. But where is that gift? Is it placed in our hearts, to uncover when we have found our true selves? Is it in our minds, just waiting to be plucked out amongst all the thoughts and ideas, when the time has come for it to be revealed? And once found, how do we use that gift of ours? These and many more are questions that are often swirling around in the great expanse called the human mind. That gift is not in one certain place, a human's gift is themself, and while the certain romantic may believe that it is placed in our hearts once we have cleared out all the uncertainty and found who we truly are, the only true way one can find their gift is to look at the life lessons they have encountered, and the possible future events that can show them their destiny. Truly, the only answer to finding one's gift is life. We live, we love, we laugh and learn. To find one's gift, one must simply go out in the world and be yourself, but learn from the mistakes one cannot have found their gift without. So the final question might very well be once the gift is found, how do you use it? Quite often when you've found an answer, using the answer comes easily, and finding the answer to this question comes in the same way as the earlier question: simply laugh often, live happily, and love generously.

Just Put One Foot in Front of Your Brother

Have you ever strived to be "better" than your sibling? Tried to achieve greater heights than them, accumulate more positive feedback? We've all seen this at least to some extent in our lives, even if it didn't happen to us directly. "Joey was such an excellent athlete, so we expect our Christopher to be just as wonderful as he was." Sound familiar? Siblings, it seems, constantly try to be one rung higher than the other on the ladder of social status, whether among family or their peers. If the older sibling was the favorite, the younger one wants nothing more than to follow in their sibling's footsteps and be the favorite as well. Hand-me-downs, reputations, and expectations are passed from generation to generation within a family. But when does this hierarchy become a cloning of the same type of person, over and over? How does a child find themself when they try to achieve perfection of another persona altogether? The simple statement could be that they don't, and end up losing themselves in the whole process. They struggle with what their own dreams and goals are, because they simply can't identify the difference between their own and a sibling's. Yet, when have you ever seen two siblings exactly alike? Even twins have very different personalities and styles, once they become of the age when matching jumpsuits and sweaters become more Goodwill than "good taste." To put it into more tangible form, as two snowflakes drift down from the heavens, they seem uniform at first, but at a second glance, they are completely different, with their own crystalized patterns of beauty. So, no matter what we humans might set upon our kin to strive for, the only way to achieve a balance is to find interests and self-sufficiency without having to feed off a sibling like a leech to a rather porous wound.

The Absence

This is a new idea for a story I got one night while laying in bed, and is a small excerpt from the introduction chapter.
Blackbirds chatter and commute across an inky black sky, but there's no storm blowing in today, it's the sky's natural color. A pure white hand reaches out to pick an apple from a tree, but the apple is not green, not red, not even yellow, it is a deep gray. Where has all the color gone? The question is not where all the color has gone, it is rather when the color will come.
Pigmentum Medicus, a rapidly expanding number of people, starting out in a small town called Coloures have banded together to bring this color into their world of black, white and gray. But this isn't the first day of their existence, immidiately wishing to put the color back in; they have lived this way for thousands of years, awaiting the day when color would simply pop into existence.
That, however, did not happen at all. In the tunnels of their small, humble outcropping of buildings, a small bit of government for color formed, calling themselves the Pigmentum Medicus, "The Color Healers." There was no holy calling, no spiritual wonder asking for their contribution to the world, it was simply a cry for something new, and the people decided, together, that they were the ones to put color into this world.

Day 1825:Tortue

This is an example of minimalist fiction I tried-not sure if it's all that great, but no one could figure out what it meant, so I suppose that's a plus-side, what with the mystery of minimalist fiction.
A green haze splits the sky-a barrier between good and evil. A rope-bound mouth rents the air, startling the balance. Intakes of breath turn shallow and water seeps in; counting sheep never worked as well as this.
Light again; the monsters under the cliffs have gone to bed. Red rivers flow through great white mountains, tumbling over the cliffs into the golden sahara. Rope still binds-no, that's just pain-but the water rises ever higher. The barrier is diminished, yet the earth remains tilted in space.
Sun-risings reveal truth, but no upturned lips today-a turtle never survives long without its shell.
"Lay down, get up, go quickly;" words spoken from above; on Day 1825, never to see his shell again.

Social Caterpillar

I usually tend to lean toward the abstract in my writings (at least in this blog), but I've had something that's influenced me all my life on my mind, and I thought I should share it. You see, every year, no matter how many people I know, no matter how strong, determined, or how much support I have, I can never seem to socialize very well. It seems so simple in my head; each morning I wake up and imagine a scenario where I come out of my shell and just start talking, but when faced with actual people, I lock up. It's not a shell-shocked, hang-your-mouth-open kind of lock-up, but I just shy away and don't say anything, and if I do, I say very little, such as "Hi," and "How are you?" I'm sure I'm not the only one, I just seem to be so troubled when it comes to trying to be friendly, and not snobbish or standoffish, like I don't care about other's feelings. That's the thing, I care about others more than anything, but I just can't express that very easily unless I get to know them, so my first impressions are usually very difficult, both for me and the other person I'm attempting to make "small talk" with. I really have sympathy for those individuals, especially adolescents in high school and middle school, that have the same disfunction as me...if you can call it a disfunction. So, I suppose all I can say is that I hope all the quiet individuals out there may grow their wings and expand into the world with vibrant colors and the ability to find their own identity among the many other butterflies that already have.

Technologically Declined

I apologize for the length of this one, there was just so much to say.
Ding! “You’ve got mail.” Facebook Alert from…. People just cannot get enough of this lovely thing called technology. I mean, who wouldn’t want a 32 gigabyte MP3 player or a phone that does absolutely everything from opening car doors to checking if the lights in your home are turned off? But, what about the good old days, when family game night wasn’t on the Wii, and hamsters weren’t fuzzy little electronic toys with wheels? I know that this world can’t just give up all of the technology, for a single person’s opinion. Technology is not always a bad thing, either. While it may advance our willingness to stay on a screen for half the day, it also increases our chances of finding a cure for cancer, finding a way to increase the longevity of our planet, and bringing about better global communication.
First off, I would like to question the indulgent craze there is on Facebook. Must everything have a page on there? If you want to find something nowadays, you don’t necessarily have to “Google” it, you can just “Facebook” it. It seems to almost be a competition as well to have the MOST friends possible. Are they really friends? I know people that add people just for the sake of it. I am no better; I get on Facebook, my e-mail, and the internet more than I should, but it’s just insane the amount of time so many of us are on the computer every day.
To make my opinion clear, I would like to say that while I do not think we could ever go without technological advances, we could use a few less than the ones we make. There shouldn’t be a need for 500 different smart phones, when one could fit the bill. I do not have much knowledge in marketing, but I do know that competition is fierce. But, wouldn’t it be so much greater if companies banded together and split the money evenly with all their profit shares? But that would not work. How would those companies ever be honest and just in that? Maybe I know nothing, being a teenager whose brain has rotted out from staring at a screen for too long, but I just think that this competition of sorts is outrageous. No one knows what may come later on in our time on earth, but we should be living for all people, not all computers, all televisions, not all telephones!
My next opinion is on those darn things called “e-Books.” I do not understand the appeal to those. In my opinion, a good old hardback suffices for the few that still wish to read. I like the new technology of putting a textbook online, however. It makes it so much easier for those that have computers to get on, and access the text no matter where they are, without lugging a giant textbook everywhere they go. While it is very much a good idea, however, it is also a tricky one, seeing as not all families in the schools have an accessible computer. The library is wonderful, but then some children have no transportation, and therefore have no motivation to really try to accomplish their homework.
One last thing that I really wish could be different. Too often do I see misspelled words and grammatical errors in professional signs and articles. Just the other day, I saw a sign for “Middle Eastren” food! Now I am wondering if that is a delicacy somewhere in the Middle East. So many books have horrible grammar as well, and sometimes, the mistakes do not degrade the reading experience, but others create a horrible irk in the mind of the reader at not being able to completely decipher just what the author was trying to convey. As for me, I am all about learning more and more about this marvelous language we call English, and other languages as well.
In closing, I would just like to state that while my opinions are not the most accurate, they are an opinion nonetheless. Technology is not necessarily a bad thing; it is merely overruling the people of this planet.

What is your Quest?

Ever seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail? It's a classic comedy spoof about Sir Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. During one part of the movie, they come to a bridge, and the only way to pass is to answer three questions: "What is your favorite name," "What is your quest," and the last question varies. The comedic aspect of this is that if they answer wrong, they get thrown up into oblivion (and apparently die). Imagine yourself being up there, just before that bridge, answering questions to cross. If it was a simple answer of just what your "quest" is, then wouldn't it be simple to answer and cross that bridge? But it doesn't seem to work like that. Sometimes, our "quests" are only one of many; we would have to ask the bridge "keeper" which quest he was seeking, and then, if he didn't know, he himself would be thrown from the bridge. Sometimes, we may know our quest (or think we do), and then have it change a while later, only to look back and realize that what we wanted then isn't what we want any longer. So what exactly is a quest? That is quite the excellent question, as it can be many things. In the religious aspect, a quest is the fulfillment of our faith, the duty that we were given on earth until we reach our paradise, heaven, or whatever we may believe in. Those who have no religion or don't really care one way or the other may have a quest to build something great, go somewhere beautiful, or marry the love of their lives and settle down in a family. So, my question of the week is, what is your quest?
P.S. If you hear the sound of two coconuts clicking together, you may just see Sir Arthur on his noble steed momentarily. ;)

ConfeDENSEiality

As confusing as the above title may be, confedentiality seems to be skewed by the twenty-first century's newer views. There isn't an exact definition, and nowadays, confidence seems to be when a girl isn't afraid to show a ton of skin and the ability to cake on makeup with no regard for her true beauty. SoI'm wondering, what is true beauty? What does confidence mean? I've heard from many a wise person that those girls that show a lot more skin are in fact less confident, and feel that if they can show more, they'll feel better about themselves, similar to the bully principal of the bully having troubles of their own and deciding to take that out on others because they're less confident of themselves. To even the playing field and not just rat on girls, guys do similar things to "impress" girls, and feel better about their lack of personality: big guns, tight six-pack abs, and smooth skin. While that sometimes might be attractive, it doesn't exactly exude confidence. So what does that mean for a society that's constantly altering itself to meet others' needs? There are definite components that we all can change and make better, but it doesn't come easy. If we allow the DENSE part of our society shine, then we will never find the much more logical, experienced side that knows what true value and moral is. That may be the main point of this piece:that moral has been skewed, and is harder to define. But then again, complexity may just help us to find new morals we might never have thought of. But, in my opinion, true beauty in a woman or a man is when they don't have to show off everything they have, and when they shine from the inside out, not the outside in.

Weather Or Not

The hot summer sun and occasional humid day seem like a wonderful deviation from that which we have been having: cold, rainy, overcast, and miserable for May. I'm a person who usually takes most weather in stride, so long as it isn't to the extreme. But many people do not see things this way. If the weather isn't to their liking, they complain to the skies, as if speaking up will somehow change that particular day's weather. The weather does not listen to us very often, not even weathermen or women, who seem to know what the weather will be, and then it decides to rebel and go another direction; sometimes for the best, but sometimes for the worst. Apparently, at my sister's "Continuation," or graduation from 8th grade, her principal said something quite insightful,(which is unfortunately rare for him). I'm not sure of the exact quote (as I was not present), but he said something to the effect of, "You can't change the weather, you can only change your attitude." Doesn't that change your perspective on things? I think it means that no matter what circumstances we are facing, and no matter how many "rainy days" we have to endure, we should always try to find the good in them, and look at them positively. Besides, sometimes dancing in the rain or making snow angels in the snow is much more fun than moping inside wishing it were warmer. So come on, let's get out there and have a little fun, even if the weather forecast doesn't call for sun!

Catching Z's

Recently, sleep has been something I lack and wish I could have more of. It's hard to get eight hours in the busy schedules we have now, what with all the responsibility we have, not to mention those darn electronics keeping us up with backlit screens that don't allow us to fall asleep. I've tried many different remedies for falling asleep (some of which actually worked), but found that the most effective thing was to keep a regular schedule of bedtime-if you go to bed different times every night, your body gets thrown out of wack and can't recover enough to be rejuvenated in the morning, nor can it allow you to fall asleep quickly, because you either fall asleep too early, or too late. Sleep seems to be one of those things we sometimes take for granted: we need it to recover and restore our bodies, so why do we slack off and starve ourselves of that much needed restoration? We should all take a leaf out of the children's books and start sleeping a little longer.
So, in a slightly more "wordly" sense, sleep allows people such as me to create and imagine other worlds in our dreams. Sometimes, they aren't always beneficial, and oftentimes, with our horrible invention of alarm clocks, we interrupt dreams we surely didn't want interrupted! Dreams, at least in my opinion, may be only the problems and obstacles (and joys) we are facing at the given time, and the way we deal with it, but they also show us the fantastical version of ourselves-what better medium to create stories from? My advice to those sleep-deprived zombies out there is to eat a few less arms and catch a few more Z's.

A World's End

Today I thought I'd take a new spin and type up a poem I wrote a few years ago.

Two pairs of footsteps echoed in the deserted side street.
Two teenagers; a fate coming that they would soon meet.
Both emitting white fog from their mouths, hands enclosed in each other's.
This battle, the sounds of screams and shouts; with their footsteps; they smother.
A battle scene comes into view, blood spurting, clouds bursting, both sides
drenched in watery red.
And then a man in billowy white robes,
holds out his hands, holds out his hands,
To the people, and tells them to bow.
And they do, even the boy and girl:they bow,forevermore, or at least for now.
A siren blares, and then is silenced.
An ugly creature with red horns and tail comes from the earth, the core, with fiery hot hands, and the head of a boar.
The man in robes reaches a hand out, the peach, tanned flesh marked with
A small scar in the back and front, wounds of a death, and the creature called Lucifer holds his breath.
Lucifer then does a thing most unpleasant: he lifts his own hands and tells all the
people, "Get up now, or I shall kill you all!" And the boy and the girl try not to feel small,
But
bow lower still, the smell of sweet grass filling their nostrils.
The wind whips around and the sun is a-bursting, the houses and roads have been ripped
from their places, hungry and thirsting.
And then, the man in white robes speaks to the small people on the grass. He says to remain with their backs to the heavens, but the creature named Lucifer does not let this pass. He throws fire
with his fingertips, straight at a man crouched nearby, who screams, and melts into the core, the place where Lucifer had once been before. The celestial valleys, so black with silver stars, are twinkling.
The boy who had been running a long time ago, sees the stars, sees the stars, but only through his eyes; he will not look up, even if he hears the screams of much more innocence dying. Lucifer and the man named Messiah have a battle and the people stay crouched.
Then, the creature is ripped from its body, and there in its place is a white-clothed man, slouched.
He has wings of gold, and does not look old, and the people stand up, by the man in white robes.
The battle is won, Lucifer, evil, hatred are done, and those who have sinned
will never commit again.
A hole appears in the sky; a great set of doors.
The gate is gold, and the man in white robes says to follow him, and the people, even Lucifer, follow him through, to a land high above the earth we once knew.
The world is now gone, but the people have bowed, they still live today, with wings and halos in a place
So a-crowd.

The Sphinx's Riddle

What goes on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening? A man, who crawls as a baby in the "morning," or beginning of his life, walks on two legs at "noon," or during the middle of life, and finally walks on three legs at the end of his life in the "evening," with a cane. This is a metaphorical depiction of how we humans grow in the most basic sense, presented in the famous "Sphinx's Riddle." It's interesting to see that we do in fact go through these three stages, whereas not many other species do-possibly none. Recently, I've been going through some immediate family stresses (the typical rebel child's need to get what they want), and I've found that this riddle is ironic in that it shows that no matter what you wish things could be, man starts out as a child on all fours with most care coming from mom and dad, grows to stand on his own two feet and becomes self-sufficient (to a certain extent in this day and age) and matures a bit, figuring out the "way of man," and then eventually must rely on a crutch-not necessarily a physical object, but every single person will have a point in their life where they need to lean on someone, and that is the "evening" part of one's life. When it starts to get dark, they must have help to carry on. I rather enjoy the way life puts this specific chain of events together, even with man possibly unaware of its presence. The "morning" part of man's life revolves greatly around teenagers and the puberty-induced stresses that come with that, not to mention the I-know-everything-and-should-get-my-way-because-I-said-so attitude that is so prominent in these adolescents. No wonder later on they need a crutch-beating your stick over another person's head usually results in being swept off your feet, cold to the ground!

One Foot in Front of the Other

This last weekend has been a busy one for me, as I participated in two walks; (one I did, and the other I volunteered to help with) both of which I had to get up early for. Helping out certain charities and people in need was not the issue I had, but rather the cold-both days were invariably chilly, especially Saturday, of which it was windy, but even Sunday where it looked like it might get warmer, but instead stayed very cold and dreary. This weekend, I learned a valuable lesson. During the March of Dimes/March for Babies, I found that simply walking and donating money to poor premature infants and infants born with birth defects and the like really is renowned in its thinking that we can save a life-we have the ability to save those babies. And on Sunday, during the Cherry Creek Sneak, I learned from a rather exuberant and animated "go-getter" that we were changing the world by exercising. Interesting perspective, is it not? But both of these days taught me that I love to volunteer and help people out, and do things for others instead of myself. I enjoyed seeing all the different faces and smiles and ways people would greet or thank me for handing them their post-race goody bag. I now know just what we need to know when we wish to progress forward: one must simply put one foot in front of the other, and soon they'll be walking out the door.

New Frontier

New prospects, new worlds, new times. Things are constantly changing, but just now, I feel myself entering a new frontier. It's ironic how, in my life, often things line up with each other and are congruent-such as the fact that I'm learning about John F. Kennedy in AP U.S. History and his administration was called the new frontier, and I'll be getting a job this summer, to come after the two I have just had these past couple months. New things are abounding, and not only for a human like me, but also for the nature around me. Trees are blooming, and when you look out the window, you see not dead brown and dull gray, but vibrant pinks, light, pretty blues, rich greens, and plenty of textured colors. Ah, spring! Indeed, it is a new frontier, a time to celebrate. Also, we just went through Easter! That is a most wonderful time to celebrate, as it is a time to celebrate the time that Jesus arose from the grave, and gave us salvation for our sins. Now is the time to sing and dance, for the Lord is come, and we shall all rejoice our new freedom!

New Frontier

Happiness

Happiness; what a cheerful and bright word. It's what we humans long for, strive for, and live for. Happiness. What is happiness? It is different for everyone, and comes in so many different forms. It is a butterfly floating on a distant breeze, a lark's chitter in the tall, tall, trees, and it is the golden feeling in a smile. What does happiness do for us however? What purpose does it serve? Well, it creates a sense of finality, as though the world is finally right. It can turn a frown upside-down and evil into sunshine. Ah, but if only the world were quite so beautiful and simple. You see, happiness often competes with sadness, in the great battle of human emotions. You must balance the cheerful, wonderful side, with feelings of despair, loneliness, and longing for something else. Happiness and sadness really (unfortunately) go hand-in-hand, and therefore we must battle the tears and frowns to turn it upside down. But how? Doesn't it seem difficult to just shove aside the sadness and put on a smile? That seems fake and forced, to me. So what can we do to make the sadness go away quicker and the happiness last longer? Simply put, there is no one answer, but there is one possibility: we all have it in us to make ourselves and others around us happy;it is simply the matter of choosing whether or not to use that gift, and use it well.

Escar-Got-To-Try-It

Judging by the title, you may assume that this would be a post about eating snails, and possibly my first taste of them, but that assumption would not be accurate, as I have never tried escargot (and don't really plan on it either). No, the title simply is a pun of the phrase "got to try it" and escargot. You see, I find that whenever you try something new, you gain insight that you would never have nor obtain without trying that new activity. Yes, it may be daunting, and may not seem smart or the most intelligent thing, but oftentimes, afterwards, you'll be excited, and proud of your ability to have pressed on and gone through with it. I always say to myself, "There's no reason not to try it, and if you don't like it, you don't have to go for it again," and that definitely helps to goad and cajole me into it. But I just love the idea of new prospects; this world holds so many things, and we shouldn't get caught up in the few we already know: we should dance like nobody's watching, sing like no one's listening, love like we've never been hurt before, and live like life ends tomorrow-in other words, enjoy life to the fullest, because tomorrow could be our last. You hear this from so many theologians, and theorists, professional therapists, and extreme optimists, but it is so true, that we must take advantage of the fact and go along with the idea that you never know when you won't be here any longer, and therefore we should take all the time we can in enjoying what we have now.

A Celebration of Life

Life is so short; the next day could be our last. Funerals happen everyday around the world, and the death rate, while ever-changing, is omnipresent. However, I don't think we should be dwelling on the loss and tragedy of someone dying, but rather celebrating the life that they had lived, and the new one they will be going to. Death in the family is particularly hard, as the members that mourn were usually quite close to the deceased. It is not easy to simply be happy that a loved one is going to a better place, but is necessary, after a while, as otherwise the stress and pain becomes innumerable, and the person under it all can no longer bear the weight.
Just recently, a member of my old church, and brother of my "bible-study" group's most treasured speaker, passed on as the result of a motorcycle accident-or so I believe. It is a tragedy to hear, and he will be missed. Mourners definitely have their right to wish he were still here, but after a while, they must realize that he's moved on to a better place. And thus, there is a celebration of life. Comemmorating all his triumphs, who he was as a person, his ministry through the church, and all the good memories that family members and friends alike wish to reminisce. This is the best way to allow a person has passed on to find peace amongst his or her loved ones. So, today, for the few that read, I have one simple request: celebrate your life, always!

Writing Was A-Written on the Stone

Dictionaries, spellbooks, novels, newspapers, advertisements;words are everywhere. Many people struggle with expressing themselves:it is difficult speaking words for them, in other...ahem, words. I am one such person; words simply are at less of a disposal than most people. Sometimes, (and more often than not) people use hand gestures to attempt to communicate what they wish. But I think it's quite ironic, because, despite being shy and quiet, I love to sing, and the written word (on the stone, thank you Jack Black), are my fortes. I wonder if, maybe I were to become more outgoing and "entertaining" according to the modern standard, I might finally be able to fit in and make acquaintances better. But can't alwasy have your cake and eat it too. I guess I'll have the flowery language only in my writing and great train of thoughts and the short, simplicity of my spoken word will stay the same. If only, if only...

I Think I Can, I Think I Can...

Of the many principles I live by, I'd have to say perseverance, endurance, and dedication are a few of my strongest. Most people don't have the stamina nor willpower to do tedious jobs such as scrubbing floors or sorting out clothing, or counting bills and such, but I actually find these things "do-able" and preferred for myself above many other things. Just today, I was thinking that endurance is the basis of an athlete: to win many competitions and races, especially the Olympics, you need to be able to endure hardships, pain (and pleasures), and the competition and pressure of being a professional athlete. But athletes are not the only people in the world who have found endurance and use it to their ability; businessmen endure tough situations and the never-ending stress of being in a corporation, firemen, the police force, and especially the army, navy, etc., are constantly enduring hardships and the stress of their own work every single day. I believe, that to survive in a world like ours, you need to have at least a certain degree of endurance, because without it, you will fizzle out while those around you simply continue to "continue burning" their bright fire of accomplishment. However, endurance isn't something that can be obtained easily. No pun intended, but you have to endure the pain of becoming stronger to gain endurance of any kind really. But endurance isn't necessarily a thing that can be measured, either, so what is the limit a person can push themselves to? Well that, my friend, is a whole other story to tell.

Two Faces:the Person We Are Now, and Later

Lately and over the entire course of my life I've been noticing that people seem to have two very different personalities. Oftentimes, it is simply their more professional side versus their more relaxed, personality-filled "home" side, but sometimes, it's a whole other side that not everyone gets to see. I'm not sure why, but I tend to see this "different side" in many people I know. Whether it's because I'm trustworthy and not quick to judge, or simply because I'm at the right place at the right time, I don't know, but I always seem to see a person's other side. It's quite blatant in certain individuals; they stick to a strict mold for people they aren't comfortable around or would rather not talk to, and then when they can be free of that mold, they turn around and are fun, cheerful, and exuberant. There isn't really a formula for figuring out exactly when someone will sort of "change" personas, but some people (and I find this rather amusing) have different tones in their voice when they speak to a colleague or unappreciated person versus a family member or close friend. I sometimes wonder, if we think we all have a personality, why do we sometimes have this different side of us? And I'm not saying everyone has it, some simply show it more vibrantly. Possibly, the professional side of us is necessary, to achieve our goals in a well-educated and sophisticated manner. But then, if we never had industrialization, where would we be then? Simply food for thought, I suppose. I've been rather frightened, myself, to see the "other side" of certain people, as usually it is their brutally honest side, where they let everything spill out-occasionally spewing out swear words and the like. But then other people, like me, open up a little bit more when around people they are comfortable with. It is a very complex world we live in, is it not?

Love Makes the World Go Round Part II

When you find that special someone, the undulated, over-cliched "love at first sight" sort of thing, many people are head over heels and quite unable to see save for the person they are in love with. As horrible as it sounds, oftentimes marriage is the "lifting of the blindfold" so to speak, whereas both people finally acknowledge the fact that they are in this for life-no turning back. Of course, you can always get a divorce, which seems all too commonplace nowadays, but that tends to be messy, and, especially with children, more complicated than need be. If only people could really think out a marriage and realize it's not just the "Get out of Jail Free" card for sex, but a bond in matrimony that should be taken much more seriously.
On another, happier note, couples do have a chance at success. From young love to a fully blossomed connection between the two, all of humanity has a chance at making it. But, here's the kicker-you actually have to work at it to make it last. Okay...so maybe they don't have a chance of success after all...But in all truth, love is not something that can be bought, it's practically something that needs to be accomplished, and therefore takes much time and effort to achieve, but just as much as any other accomplishment, it is very much worth it in the end to have tried. So, really, all a couple needs to survive in the great big "sea of fish" is to express a desire to make it work, and the ability to try to understand one another.

Love Makes the World Go Round Part I

Isn't my title a song? I believe so, but know not of the artist.
Love. It's not easily described, deciphered, nor defined. You can't put it in a jar and give it to someone, and it doesn't come in twelve at the grocery store. Love is something that, when a person truly has it, they feel whole and complete, like they finally belong somewhere, with someone. True love is an even harder thing to define. What exactly is true love? When you can no longer live with something, when that becomes your only life-support, is that true love? Or, maybe, is it when you love someone so much that they become a part of you, no longer a good friend, but one that you'll take with you for the rest of your life? Sometimes, I find it easier to determine love within a family. True love is shown in the devotion a mother or father gives their child, in the malleability of relatives and get-togethers; family sometimes has its "bends," but it will never really break (or at least hopefully not). Love has a funny feeling on the tongue of desire; when you think you're in love with someone simply because you want them to be with you so badly, you lose all conscious thought and believe they must be the one. This, I believe must be pne of the reasons so many marriages turn out sour-after a while; one person of the half might decide that what they are now in isn't what they wanted. This is why love is so complicated in couples, and can't be explained in a single paragraph, and thus the reason why my "love" writings are split up into two.

Be Happy With What'cha Got

Sometimes, it's hard not to want more in your life. Not everything can be perfect, after all, but many people seem to want something else, something better than what they have (I myself am a victim of this). Maybe it's because we live in a world where everything changes each day, and today's tomorrow is the yesterday of today, but we as humans fail to realize sometimes is that you can't always have your cake and eat it too. One may simply stop to smell the roses, and get lost in the thorns. But if only we were to take our time and pace ourselves, we wouldn't be in such a hurry to get to the next big thing. I know it may seem like trying to hold oneself back from something is slightly contradictory from the advertisements and media pressure of today, but isn't most of that condensed truth-straying material anyway? So, I wonder sometimes if we the people (but not only America) could someday find a way to stop wanting what everyone else has (jealousy and envy) and start to realize what we've got. It's hard to see the beauty of something when one is blinded by the ugliness, so I believe we simply need to "slip on the glasses of reality," and finally see what we've been missing; that which is right in front of our noses.

Life Is But the Persuasion

Tired of this old junk? Want something new in your life? Well then, try this new thing that you should have!
It's funny that many advertisements persuade people to buy things that they most likely don't need, don't actually want, and wouldn't buy otherwise. It's been a marketing tool of businesses since the 1920s, and the advertisers know just what the average consumer wants to hear. Advertisements are comprised of flowery language, pictures that sell, and rhetoric. Good old fashioned, persuasive rhetoric. Rhetoric is that which we find in all arguments; in the words of my English teacher, "everything in life is an argument, and persuasion comes with argument." Every time I see an ad for a new machine that supposedly makes things easier tenfold, I find it rather funny that they all use the same rhetorical device: overexaggeration by showing the consumer the extreme limits of the product. This is ridiculous, because who is really going to experiment with things such as that? Consumers buy these things, and then get them in the mail, how do they know that the machine really isn't all that it's cracked up to be? I personally have been a victim of the persuasion, as much as I hate to admit, because when something looks interesting, fun, new, and advanced, the consumer (this situation being myself) swipes that card straightaway. Too bad there's not much truth in advertisements-condensing the information is just one of the many evils advertisers have. Mwahaha!

Kids At Play

Isn't it a precious sound, that of children laughing and playing serenely? Childhood may seem like simply the beginning stage of our lives, but is it really? We are all children at heart, even the most uptight, snub-nosed business corporate has a weak spot, a bit of child in them. That's what is so magnificent and powerful about children. We never truly grow up, but instead we become taller, our voices change, we gain knowledge, and we learn to do things on our own. But instinctually, we rely on others' knowledge and protection to feel safe, even those of us that say we can defend ourselves need help once in a while; we weren't made to be population:1. Man would not be here if there had been one self-sufficient person, for humans can only survive with BOTH female and male counterparts. So, therefore, our childhood instincts are to surround ourselves with people on one hand, or, in the case of some "adults," to shun everyone around us to create an aura of solitude. But, either, way we are similar to children: they either want to be held close, or set aside and left alone. Just like us. Similar to animals, who grow up to be bigger, stronger, and able to survive, we as humans adapt to conditions as they change. But, just like these same animals, we cannot adapt or grow unless we first are nourished and helped to stand up, until we can do it on our own. If only that could happen for every child in the human race. Yet, the sad truth remains: not every child can have that nourishment. So what should we as a people do about it? This remains the sad and difficult-to-solve question. The place to start must be the children themselves. "Ask not when you can do for your country, but what you can do for your country."

All In Our Power

We as a race of humans act on instinct; it is simply our natural ability to do that which we are thinking at the very moment we are thinking it, (Especially America, not to just throw them under the bus), but Americans tend to have a systematic way of doing what they want when they want:now. Freedom may be a right of the American people, but it isn't necessarily a right to be abused, but humans, however, sometimes abuse that power we have of being free. "Free" is such a trivial word, stemming from the fact that is not only a word meaning "enjoying personal rights or liberty, as a person who is not in slavery" (Dictionary.com), but also an expression of who a person is; when an immigrant or foreigner earns the freedom America has to offer, they seem to all of a sudden become a whole new person. And if we are a free people, how is it that we are not freely accessing all of our own brain capacity? On average, humans use twenty percent of their brain, but, as a Hollywood film suggests, what would happen if we were able to use all of it? Five times as much as we do now could certainly solve world problems and issues in ourselves. Riddle me this, when is it desire, and when is it simply instinct? We've seen our elders buy that, or peer pressure gets to us, and we buy it simply because it seems like the right thing to do, or even just the smart thing to do. I sometimes wonder if humans could even handle themselves using 100% brain power. The privilege of power is already abused now, with dictators, terrorists, and the like, so what would it be like with those beings magnified by five? Would it in fact be worse than it is at present, or would it somehow mellow out and fix itself, because the people would have the knowledge and the way to get out of the present predicament?

The Ride

The breeze lifts the leaves from the trees and sways the branches gently, and the smell of fresh summer corn wafts through the air; the soft creak of a bike's drivetrain and wheels echoes over the asphault and up into the blue, blue sky. I love the feelings I get when I'm riding a bicycle. I finally feel like I'm totally in control; I know what I'm doing and have the skills to carry out the task, much like writing for me. Cycling is such an exhilarating and endorphin-raising experience, and is definitely a stress-relieving entourage. Cycling is a way to meet new people, see new places in ways that you can't in a car, and get wonderful cardiovascular excercise in a relatively easy way. One doesn't need to have huge muscles, strong legs, or a "fit" body, as just about anyone can get on a bicycle and ride. That's what interests me the most. It is a true people's activity, even if professional cycling and time trials are for the more experienced and trained riders. But cycling, while it helps to have a natural born talent, can also very much be learned. Courage is a big part of it as well, as you truly must trust yourself to be able to ride well. Every time winter comes around, I look forward to summertime, when I can finally get on my bike. It's the ride of a lifetime! :)

Ground into the Back

The feeling that one gets when they are shoved aside and made to be in the background is not one that have "warm and fuzzy" connotations. In fact, usually the person in the background feels overshadowed and unappreciated, and what's the fun in that? I can attest to the feeling of being left out, as often I am in the background. I've always wondered why people that are shy, quiet, and less talkative than most are pushed to the back. I find that people who don't talk often are actually more insightful and say what they need to say, rather than going on and on with insignificant details. Not to say that quiet people are the best people on the planet, but they definitely seem to have more weight to their words. For example, when a quiet person sits and does their own thing while others more talkative around them jabber on,the quiet person practically turns into a chameleon and blends into the area that they are seated at; forgotten until they speak again. I wish things didn't have to be this way, but it's just the way things go. So I guess, as for me, I'll just have to suck it up, deal with it, and try to figure out a way to get my voice heard and appreciated a bit more. But I'm not complaining, I'd rather have wonderful thoughts and be able to express them in what I love to do (writing), rather than be a good speaker (Even though I wish I could speak a bit better). So, my question of the day is what is the relevancy of being quiet or loud in this century?

The Written World

Books. Yes, they're quite an obvious subject of a bookworm like me, but I just had to write about something I knew very well. I believe that the written world, the places you can go and the characters you can meet through words and sentences, paragraphs and pages, are so beautiful, and immersive, that I can hardly pull my head up for air when I'm reading a good book. I believe that children, especially, should read and experience other worlds, not because their own reality isn't good enough, but because they can learn so much by delving into other, fantastical worlds. Besides, vocabulary and knowledge is really only increased by doing or reading, and reading isn't much harder than picking up a book and sounding out the words. But, I do have a certain problem with the way some people read nowadays. Ever heard of an eReader or a Nook or Kindle? Well, in my honest opinion, I quite hate them. I don't want this blog to be a review for them, but there are very few positive qualities they have! First off, the glare. Have you ever read a book where you can't see the page unless you tilt it at a certain angle, and then can't read in dim light because it reflects off the natural (or man-made) lighting? That seems very odd to me how you would not be able to read a book because the light is dim or the glare is too bright. Me, I prefer paperbacks and hardcovers, owing to the fact that I can take them anywhere, read them anytime (dim light or bright), and don't have to charge them to read them. (Yes, you actually have to charge the eReader to read it every once in a while)! If anyone reading this knows of the true positives of these electronic readers, please let me know, I'd love to hear about them. I just felt like venting my own opinion. The books still are basically the same, and you can change font size and turn pages relatively easily, but I still prefer ink on a page.

Thought I'd take a new spin and write something a little more familiar to me: a short narrative. (Even though I normally write long narratives). Don't forget to read my "Abstract Distraction" post, I've gotten no comments yet! Okay, here goes...
Brown wilderness surrounded the small, fluttering silhouette. Raising its arm, it cast an eerie, branch-like, black shape amongst the millions of other branches, real or imaginary. The figure looked around; clods of dirt stuck to trunks and a very morbid looking vine clung to the cluttered forest-floor, but not a sound or living thing lay in sight (besides the trees). Revealing herself to what she now realized was a miniscule beam of light coming from the canopy, her features became clear: dark, chiseled facial features, large, bulbous nose, short black hair that hung scraggly and rather messy, and a sharp, jutting jaw, that looked like it would fit Judge Judy and her speaking persona better than this measly, ill-cared-for young girl. A sound emerged from the right, startling her, causing the poor girl to lose her already too loose pants, and quickly, she rushes to snatch them up and prepare for the source of the noise, whatever it may be. But, it never comes. She swivels several unproductive times, but finds nothing, save a few more clumps of dirt on her blackened feet.
A scream ricochets from above to the ground, and back up again, and some sort of winged creature swoops down. The girl is out for the count, but it hadn't been the bird that took her over...

People, Just People

Just recently, I was invited to an event on Facebook called, "You're Beautiful." It was an event that called for women (and men) to see themselves and others as beautiful, and not to degrade themselves as they may from day to day. I don't mean to seem cliche when I say this, but I see people as just what they are: people. Race, religion, so-called "social status," or even personality type, people are just people to me. Shy is my dispostion, and therefore people in general intimidate me because I feel as though I may screw up my first impression, but yet they are all people to me. I believe in equality, despite the fact that this world may never know true equality among the human race. So my question for this week (for myself and few readers) is how do you view yourself and others? Do you seem them as below you, above you, or just merely equal? Have we not all come to this earth in the same way, for similar (if not the same) purposes, and shouldn't we all have the same opportunity as everyone else? Take some time to think about the phrase "you're beautiful." What exactly does that mean? It entails some hardy concepts; much to swallow if one really thinks about it. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and is more than skin deep; it's everything we see in this world; it is a rose in full bloom, a rainbow in full brilliance, a smile at full power. Beautiful is not just a word, it is an abstract concept that take much thought and true devotion to truly understand.

Destraction with Abstract

I believe I identify best with abstract concepts sometimes better than tangible, palpable concepts. I understand what it means to love much better than what being a politician entails. Mundane concepts don't really resonate with me very well, but fantastical elements, such as love and emotion, and imagination are very much my strong suit. Being a writer, I suppose I'm considered one of the few that do understand this concept better than most, but I also consider children to be one of those few as well. When a child runs to his mother and doesn't care about another thing in the world, has only eyes for her, that is true love. When a child cries out for something they want, that is true devotion and sheer want, but a kind of unadulterated want, the underlying concept of who we really are as a people, deep down. So who should say that we aren't allowed to love, aren't allowed to imagine, aren't allowed to see things in a different way, just because we don't have a true definition for them? The abstract doesn't take a rocket scientist to wrap your head around, it just takes some imagination and faith, perseverance and trust. Oh, but wait, those aren't things I can identify for you...

Change is Everything

Adjusting to the new conditions that I am faced with once again, (a new family; again), and a new job, and many new prospects waving hello to me right now in life; I have been faced with change so often, I find it almost normal for some routine that I've become accustomed to, to change. Sometimes, I find people think that change is difficult to handle, because it brings about new challenges and new obstacles. But, I suppose I embrace challenges and hardships better than some, because I enjoy change, actually I look forward to it. That may very well change someday (how ironic), because everyday things change slightly; we move forward each and every minute of our lives, and therefore change may very well take over my very being, and no longer have that connotation of positive and enjoyable. I find it rather funny that many students nowadays, are either very much adaptable to change, and actually find it boring sans-change, or they are the exact opposite: they enjoy falling into a pattern and doing the same thing everyday, so that no new hardships come their way. Actually, just today, I was in church, and the pastor spoke about inmates not wanting to embrace the change of being let out of the prison. So here's my quick question: is change a prison, in which we fear something becoming different and accelerating pain and suffering (or even the possibility of joy and happiness), or is it a paradise of sorts to where we can depart from the norm, and come to a new way of living or being?

A World That's Tired of Waking Up

Listening to a song on the radio and waking up every morning to a dark bedroom and the sound of cars on the highway outside got me thinking: isn't it tiring have to wake up every morning at a prescribed time? I suppose I understand why we have a certain time-clock, although unlike during the late 19th century, we needed a timed schedule for trains, nowadays, the only reason I see we needing times is for school and work, and who says we absolutely need those times to be the way they are? I've always loved the romanticized idea of what my dad says they do (or at least used to) in Africa. When the village had a town meeting, they would all meet somewhere, and everyone would come from their little houses or huts (or whatever they are in Africa, I'm none the wiser), but here's the catch: say they wanted to start the meeting at mid-day (note here that there isn't an exact time), each person, depending on how far away he lived from the meeting place, would leave his hut/house and start walking. They would all start walking, until they all met in the same place. Doesn't this sound like a much better system of meeting people? Well, maybe in a perfect world, we'd all live ten minutes away and could meet a little earlier. But is that necessarily a perfect world? Wake up people! It's not! "I've been sleeping in for days, 'cause when I am awake, I will have to face my life..." That's a line from one of my favorite songs, and it describes exactly what I feel every time I wake up. What I wouldn't give to get up at 6am, not to go to school or some robotronic workplace, but just to see the sunrise and watch as the day unfolds. Too bad I live in a world that's too tired to wake up.

Story of My Life

Often times when I'm working hard on homework I have, my dad will ask "Homework? Story of your life, eh?" This is quite comical to me, because I see everything as a story, and enjoy stories immensely. When I listen to a song, I don't care so much about the beat as much as I do about the message, the lyrical content. The mystery and depth of words, happenings, and emotions intrigue me more than anything else. I love how things seem to come together somehow when I read a story, especially a mystery or suspense/thriller novel. It fascinates me that we are all living our own story; we each have our own destiny and legacy, and each thing we encounter, each person we meet, is another character or event in the great "story of our lives." I've always thought I was a little odd, a little different, because I see things this way, but I suppose I'm just observant in my own quirky way. But doesn't it seem monumental that we can write our own story by all the things we do? All the choices we make? I'm sure excited! So, start writing your story (well, continue doing it) today, and even though that sounds totally cliche, it is very much happening all around us, and we must be the author of our lives, even if we believe in a divine author.

Master's Craft

A day to remember, is a day of the master's craft, when finally the beauty is bestowed upon the image; the flourishing splendor of color or music or talent is burst out into the world. When finally the master and his artwork may be reunited, and the music or artistry is revealed, both master and instrument may be at ease. Such as is a violin's player, or a novel's writer; everything goes together just perfectly to begin the chain of art in that which we call music or literature, theater or sport, entertainment or leisure. I've found that the master who knows his craft may be impressive to others around him, and the knowledge that the master has obtained or obtains, whether massive or measly, makes their craft even more renowned and revered. Seeing the delight and determination of a musician on stage lights a certain fire in an enthusiast, such as myself, and the audience holds onto the animated face of the master. I have found myself marveling at the very tethers of music and art, and wish to know more, no matter how much information I may already have under my belt. My one question is, if a master has his craft, and knows that, what should he do to make it his own, and what exactly can a "craft" be described as?

All in a Line

I noticed just last night that the way certain people organize things is rather funny. Glasses in three straight lines like Terra-Cotta warriors ready for battle (or thirst-quenching); long lines of people, slightly zigzagged in formation, but nonetheless organized; and the organization of we, the people. It's funny to think that we live so much in lines, whether they be straight, curvy, dashed, or broken, but when you think about it, lines are everywhere. So what does a line really represent? A prescribed path that we must follow, or a way we may go, that we may choose? Sometimes it seems that the lines are blurry, and we must splay our hands in front of us to try to "see" through the fog. But no matter what kind of lines we face, we are parallel on one thing that is certain: they are everywhere, so get in line.

In the Quiet

As I sit here alone in my dining room, I start to realize just what is going on around me. Being an inherently quiet individual, I tend to notice sounds and objects sometimes better than most; such as in a hushed environment, with the sound of a clicked mouse reverberating around the walls, shattering the simple silence that once rent the air. I come to realize that each key that surrenders to the weight of my fingers causes a tension to be released in the heavy, silent atmosphere. Why do I notice this just now? Because, it is at times like these where I find myself wondering why all of my inner dialogue stays inside my head. What I have to say may not always be accepted, but many a person has come out and said something, was not accepted for it, and yet made history. Take Rosa Parks: she spoke up for her color, and was thrown off the bus for it. But what that bus driver failed to realize was that she was about to make history, by standing up to society's order. So, maybe that's just what I need to do. Stand up to the order of how things seem to be prescribed for us nowadays. Muddle it over in your brain, or toss it away, but the idea that we should take a stand for the things we believe in isn't just a one-time question on a test or a simple, trivial answer. It is who we are as a people and what we believe in. And thus, I will do my best to struggle to my feet and speak up, be heard. Will you?