Eka-Astatine, 117

2011-09-29T10:25:00.001-07:00

In order to change, you must be able to forgo comfort.

You must realize you will not like it.

You also can't do it all at once. You have to wait. It's a process that will take many small steps, and many long months.

You have to start now, or else you will keep pushing back change. It's not all or nothing; it's a little bit at a time.

Start now. You are still young. Start now.

Tomorrow is yours. Take it.

2011-09-11T11:58:00.001-07:00

Stop! Stop the complaining, the head-banging.

Stop it! Leap like the fire in your bones. You are no slack-jawed lemming, you are no fool.

Stop the heart beating fast as your thoughts race on tracks. This is no mish-mash anymore; you are real.

You see that? You see the early mornings and the coffee? This is no formula. This is no regimen. This is way of life. This is unadulterated running.

Stop! You are not dreaming of something far away. This thing you are obsessed with is in your bones. This thing you are obsessed is in your mornings, in your mind, in your coffee. This is your coffee. This is your morning. This is your mind.

Your time is a perception of the atoms passing by you. This thing called time is your tool. You are the controller, the driver.

Stop dreaming. Stop obsessing. Stop tripping on little bits of nostalgia and ripping your head against a wall of hatred. You hate yourself- this drives you to oblivion.

Self-fulfilling angst.

You see that light? You see that little glimmer? That the peace you seek, floating in the air.

That is something you make. That is something you reject.

Attitude, friend, attitude.

But this is not a formula. This is not a twelve-step process.

Stop swimming in your mired mud of thinking! Stop writhing in your dried-up tears of regret!

You are a strong individual. You faces the waves, you face the radiation. You face the dust and debris.

Run! Run! The day is yours! Take your consciousness and run! Run to that mountain, feel the dirt under your feet. The sweet wafts of heavy-smelling grass will fill your nose with a sense of the world.

Stop, stop the maelstrom. Take the clearing as it comes and be on your way, Do-er.

A love poem.

2011-05-20T17:25:00.000-07:00

I wish I was you,
you blessed fool.
You far-gone dreamer
with the world under your feet.

I wish I was you, beautiful dreamer.

Who are you, vixon?
Long-haired, shapely pixie
loved achiever
maker of the astonishing

I wished for you, once.

Once, you were my future days.

Once, you were what I would be
if I had dreamed of a better reality
and made it real.

Why are you not fulfilled in me?
Why is my floor full of dirt and my dirty dishes
covered in mold?

I am disappointed.

Oh, you fool,
you lovely fool.

Why am I not you?

Intention?

2011-02-24T13:55:00.000-08:00

Intention won't do a damn bit of good for me. I need the energy to get up in the morning, to remember to pay my bills on time (ALL of them, not just half of them), to say no to fun when I should finish my work, to enjoy the fun I have to the absolute fullest, to clean my goddamn apartment, to complete my projects, to run at things with full force, to bring ideas to LIFE.

Years and years and years of obsession. For what? Another round of stress as I become inundated with the little acquisitions of small things; a cool weekend trip here, an ipod there, a nicely written political argument there.

I'm 20 now. My life needs to stop being a timeline of failures and incomplete dreams, and complaints after complaint after complaint to myself about how much of a deadbeat failure I am. I have some fucking goddamn dreams, I need some fucking goddamn focus, and I WILL stop wasting time. I will wring myself dry in pursuit of knowledge, adventure, and CHANGE.

I am one human out of 6 billion on a small planet out of 8 (sorry, pluto) orbiting around a small star out of billions in one medium-sized galaxy out of trillions in a universe too vast to measure.... and I have a second to live, relative to the span of time.

Yea, I'm only 20. But 20 turns to 21, then 22, then 30... then 40, 50, 60, 70... dead. A blink in time. I want my blink in time to be like Plato's blink in time: I influence ideas, I change minds, I am integral to making the world a better place. I last for centuries in the minds of people who are inspired to continue keeping and making it a better place. I want to help, make changes, clean the air, stop evil.

Most of all? I want to not give a fuck about receiving the credit. I want to be mature to not give a shit whether I'm famous or unknown; I want to be an integral part of the world, a person who participates in a vast domino effect of spreading health, love, and equality - and if my name is remembered? Well, that's cool. I'll get my endorphin shot of pride.

And.. down to earth, where I am right now... I will take care of my own little details. My credit card bill, my math test next week, my customer service skills, my keeping promises, my bathroom cleaned.

Because, really, at the end of the day all you can do is forget it all and go to sleep. I sleep, a lot. I want to live when I'm awake, though.

look to the stars,
ununseptium

2011-01-28T10:12:00.000-08:00

I
want

to
be

stoner running through the woods

off to see

adventure

and
I
want

everything to be

something new.

I is making poem again about teh future

2011-01-19T21:31:00.001-08:00

I sat, two years from the start
I reflected on the feeling of the new,
such brilliant shining of the day
How the smell of the library books
wafted like the dreams of my youth
through my mind, prickling my nerves
with adrenaline.

I wrote with candor as if my fingers
leaped with fire
of how the future looked: so lovely
It was like a virus that ravished my gut
oh, how the day shined so bright
the books smelled so right,
like intelligence.

Intelligence? Perhaps the spark of art, too
I sat and pondered these
with that brilliant shining,
and felt like the world was mine.

And you know? It is.
It is. Ancestors fought for this time;
my mind reeled for these things-
running like cheetahs towards undeniable life.

I listen to the chords of music,
I sit in pure sound
and it touches the dreams of my past like wire
sending electrons; shock

I listen and I sit and I remember
then I scream!
My heart does, that is,
and I am longing for the brilliance
the smell of those books

tell me, tell me books-
tell me how can I be?
I am running now like cheetahs
struggling through reeds of the Savannah
and I smell those books, my prey
my future, pray
I prayed for this.

I sit, two years from the start
I am this far,
I must run further, make more new.
Find the brilliance of horizons

My Religion

2011-01-07T16:36:00.001-08:00

My religion is religion;
my belief is in belief.

I will run the race of ages; the growing of my body and the wisening of my mind.

I will watch the minutes pass like the people of centuries; waiting until

my obscurity is complete.

If I could run up mountains like a mountain goat

and swim 'cross seas like a fish

fly down south at the twitching of my instinct

like a duck well aquainted with winter

I would leap off my seat, off this concreted place

soar like a spirit through air

let my religion scream at the top of its lungs; I AM TIRED OF THIS

I'd fight for the hungry

and wrestle the demons of friends

make my mind sweat with thought;

puzzles attempted

I will not BELIEVE in a God who tells me to kneel and wait for so long

that I become dust

I believe in a God who says to me,

RUN, SWIM, FLY

SOAR

For today is not the last day of my passing time

Arrow

2010-12-26T13:17:00.000-08:00

I wanna be a better person, every god damn day of my life.

I need a passion. An insatiable hunger for a thing; a loving attachment to a good idea, a sunction to the one motivation of my life.

I want to CHANGE THE WORLD? But yea, everybody does. I want to go EVERYWHERE. I want to SEE EVERYTHING. I don't want to get married, I don't want to sleep my days away, I don't want to stay in this town forever. I don't want to get run down in the heavy routine of the everyday; I want to be the WIND. A bird who can fly to the ends of the earth and back, a cat who can slip in and out of situations like butter, a orator who can speak words of eloquence before he even thinks them.

I need discipline.

Discipline like a kid in karate. Like a soldier. Like a person who knows what their words and actions mean for the future.

Day by day I sleep and sleep and never get my satisfaction. I am content with mediocre mimicry. My brain prefers not to think, my body avoids any hint of sweat. I am not willing to go outside myself to live the life my dull little brain dreams of sometimes, when the boredom finally grates on my soul.

Can I change? Will I change? Do I have the strength to face me, the most stubborn, lazy, manipulative, easily distracted person I've ever know? Me, who is my thoughts and hopes and dreams and mistakes? Me, who wants to sleep forever?

CAN I be MORE than I AM?

I want passion. passion that excedes me, passion that is not about me, passion that has nothing to do with me. I want passion that brings me to the edge of the universe in sweat and tears, passion that pulses energy through my blood like a gram of caffeine. Pure, unadulterated motivation. Pure, inescapable obsession.

Ad Astra Per Aspera.

To the stars, through difficulty.

I want to go the stars.

2010-09-02T00:13:00.000-07:00

mind is a ruckus;
brain is a gem
phileo love is a
hem for them
to mend the soul,
to weave the heart
phileo love is a
faulty art.

stain is a muckus:
blind as a dam.

2010-08-29T17:28:00.000-07:00

Buzz Aldrin danced at the foot the stairs
and the bee came buzzin' by
and everyone took a moment to stare
at the prancing of the fly
King 'enry took a bottle of gin
and made his wife a lie
the bottled love of a flower's bloom
what made the bishop die

I'm happy

2010-08-28T17:57:00.000-07:00

It's possible I'm going to alienate a lot of people with this.

I'm still officially a christian.

But?

But I don't pray. I don't read the bible. I don't worship when I'm at church, I just sing the songs. I don't witness, I don't look for the spiritual in every moment, and I don't even think of God or Jesus most days.

I don't follow any of the teachings I so vehemently devoted myself to for almost 5 years and to some degree for my entire life; except for a few. Integrity, honesty, kindness, love- those I follow.

I respect my religion. I respect my God. I respect my brothers and sisters in Christ.

But by every definition of the term, I have back-slidden. Fallen, if you will.

And?

I'm still happy.

I'm finding myself. I'm discovering things about my character that I had never quite noticed before. I'm learning how to learn who I am.

In the last year, I have gotten to parties, gotten drunk, gotten high, and had sex. Lots of it.

Yea, I'm definitely not a virgin anymore. (and I don't regret it)

I support gay rights, the legalization of marijuana, and other religions. I listen to all the secular music I possible can, and watch R rated movies, and I plan to get a tattoo of some kind one day.

and I'm still happy.

Am I cirsumstancially happy? Sure. Some days suck.

Am I always happy? no. Some things happen that break my heart.

In the last year, I've been stressed, depressed, irresponsible, lonely, and unbelievably angry. I've had my heart broken and repaired and broken and repaired again, and I've been inevitably distanced from some of my favorite people in the world.

But I've still been happy. I have lived, more than I feel like I ever have. I feel more free than I ever felt. I feel like I'm growing as a person. I have, in the last year, had some of the best experiences of my life. I've come out of my shell more- my fear of people has diminished more than it ever has in my life. I've had more excitement about my future than I ever have.

There is almost nothing I regret, aside from not letting myself go earlier. I regret trying so hard to fit myself into a box that I just didn't fit into. I'm going to discover God and the unseen by living my life to the fullest; not by conforming to others standards in hopes that I'll achieve some place at which I can finally see the face of God.

I will see the face of God on my own, and I will learn to live life by actually living it.

among all this, I realize I am still immature, still possibly wrong in a lot of little ways, and that I still have a lot more to learn.

I'm learning the virtue of hard work- working for what you want, working for your dreams, working for the good of yourself and others.

I'm learning the power of thinking for myself, and of making decisions based on my values and virtues rather than what other people think of me. I'm going to have to find that place of peace in religion my own way. I can not- I absolutely can not- do it by trying to conform.

Most of all, I am learning not to be fake for the sake of approval from other people.

that is the exact reason I've written this: Church taught me how to be vulnerable and transarent... so here I am, this is me. Here it is.

Now, I'm off to discover the world. I love everyone of you as family. You can judge, but Jesus taught me how to love, and how to be free from the restraints of an old religion.

Will I return and be the christian I was before, and beg prostrated at the altar for my Father to take back his prodigal son? Maybe. We'll see. Only God knows.

When your nights are wide-eyed forays into the avenues of your thoughts

2010-08-24T23:29:00.000-07:00

- the images of a far away life flitting in slide shows through your imagination like an addiction, igniting a shot of adrenaline that screams motivation to your senses and sends those crazy thoughts of yours into a fireworks show of sparked inspiration... when your days are dragging like dead dragons through a mud shire in a fantasy; the hero pulls with all his archetypal might to make that metaphor for hours and tasks get to the other side of the swamp.

and the swamp is junk food, lectures, customers, phone calls, the tingling wishes for the night to come- just come already.

And the sun sets; the streetlights flicker on without your conscious notice; the radio switches DJs. Your mind is free to wander, your body free to express... and sleep is a thing to abhor because it will take this time and twist it into strange adventures that you cannot remember... and you would rather live your adventure.

This thing. These decisions!

Two roads diverged

2010-08-21T01:25:00.000-07:00

I'd write paltry metaphor for this, or compose a forced poem about the intricate weavings of this craziness... but perhaps plain language is the best way to go about explaining it.

2 boys: inescapable decisions to be made, important conversations to be thoroughly had, and the fact that this lifestyle is not one I had ever expected myself to accept...

what happens when you forget and conform

2010-08-11T23:48:00.000-07:00

I'm a bad writer.

No, I can do grammar (sometimes). I can spell correctly (with the help of Firefox auto spell-check). I can read (most things).

I'm a bad artist.

I can draw lines, and shapes, and make crazy little cartoons. I can do a nice sketch once in a while. I can do anything in a graphic editing program with enough time and focus.

...I cannot express humanity. I am living the story that a thousand books, movies, and poems have explored in much more eloquent and exact depth. I cannot create entire fantasy worlds. I cannot make you, random stranger or dearest loved one, look at something and have your brain be chopped to bits by awe-struck crazy holy-shitness.

Yet, somehow, I see being an artist and a writer as part of my identity.

BUT IT'S FALSE. I create nothing. I am dry as desert. This imagination has packed up and moved to some unknown far away land and left a Dear John note...

FUCK OFF, YOU LAME SELF-CONSCIOUS TEENAGER. I'm trying to channel the mysteries of the universe and human existence, and harness the spark of fantasy in your most sentimental dreams... and all you want to do is sleep. You just want to sleep and be entertained. You are so outside yourself, it's sick. Your brain was on a much better path of genius before you started having these longed-for social experiences and paying your bills and trying to get ahead in the capitalistic rat race.

Frankly, I'm ashamed of you. Promising yourself that you'd always be a child and then growing up.

Oh- growing up in itself is not a bad thing. Oh, it can be a very good thing if you do it correctly. If you can make your growing-up a way to find more material, more inspiration, more understanding... by all means. But if in being an adult you slough off the one longstanding passion of your HEART, then you have betrayed your deepest self.

Yes, go to sleep now. Go to sleep and wake up and go to work and think about your little practical problems and forget about forging experience into art. Art doesn't need you anyway. Art will go on without you.

Sincerely,
Your Imagination

Yup. I might as well just go become a societal drone.

unless... unless I can make something... unless I can tell a story. Unless... unless I can find a way to get my imagination back.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

moar poem writing; needs work

2010-08-04T21:33:00.000-07:00

Some injection of inspiring star-struck
twinkling affection
from
some kind of person who wants to know your secrets

and your secret places-

checking back, checking back
a mind strained for that bit of light
some hormonal thing borne of
particles in the air
straight to your brain

electricity

What of us who want the craziness of a strained brain
set on the soul of a kin who's connection
is made from coincidences
of the universe

that played together like a jigsaw puzzle piece

right to where you fit like you were a mashed together bit of matching plugs and sockets and

the way your legs twine together at night is the way the math of the trees in the forests is solved

with the fractals that spiral down in succession to infinity

and infinity is where you lay, your brains hormoned together and welded like a lava rock.
the heat of suspense in your hands and your ideas shared like books translated
into every tribal tongue
and you understand, you understand.

Cliche words are your bedspread and cuddling your blanket because
hair on that skin is the warmest thing you have ever encountered.
Chest heaving at the whisper of a laughter because what you just did
was so silly and you just can't quite pinpoint
the last time you laughed so hard
and it's just fine if you laugh like a flea-bitten hyena
since silliness like this is too precious to pass
and

What of us
who need a bit of that understanding? -who will not settle for leaving this at dreams
who will communicate until the point that words have been exhausted
and the only thing left is experience.
and
that fractal math of deepest measures, traveling exponentially towards that crazy
quantum resource fueling this undeniable desire
to be

so

utterly

close...

What of us?

stupid poem, needs a loooot of work.

2010-08-01T19:42:00.000-07:00

Emeye was the girl who constantly asked
whether the weather was really what it was.

"It changes! it changes!
it changes too much,
I can not keep up with the clouds, the sun-
the rain, the moon, the wind-
I can not keep up, I cannot keep up;
It changes, it changes, it changes too much."

Emeye wondered and watched and
studied the listless sky.
Oh, the poisonous way it
did not let her have her peace.
"I will be bright today," it says,
then rains and rains and rains,
"I will rain today," it claims,
and shines bright on the street where
Emeye does not walk.

"It's dark for me, it's far away-
It avoids my longing for the day...
it changes, it changes,
it changes too much.
I cannot keep up-
I cannot keep up."

"Dear Sky," she cried, "please shine for me,
let the sun be here with me,
let the rain subside.
Let the winds bring songs of birds,
no lack of words, no lack of words-
for the days changes fast,
the earth is rushed around,
and the sky, Dear Sky, you are the measure
let me catch up with you, please-
please, please, please..."

Emeye was the girl who constantly asked,
whether the weather would ever love her back.

Woke up feeling really good today.

2010-07-04T08:31:00.000-07:00

looking to the stars and remembering what I forgot. Life's ok.

-ununseptium

eyes and arms and talking

2010-06-22T17:10:00.000-07:00

If I could have that every single day, I would. I don't. I have books, and music, and internet instead. i have wishing and dreams and a mile long to-do list instead.

It's like a drug, this goddamn thing. You get addicted to it. and then you withdrawal. and you hope something will replace it; but you haven't found anything yet that matches it, or feels quite the same way.

It's worse when suddenly you're the bad guy. You're the crazy one, the liar, the manipulator. You ruined it, you keep ruining it, and everything you've ever hated about yourself is just exacerbated because not only is this gone, but so much else is too.

Overdramatic? Tell me one more time my feelings are bullshit, tell me one more time that every emotion and thought I have is illegitimate. Make me feel like even less of a human than I already do. Come on, do it.

Yea, I was wrong. I don't deserve anything. How did I end up being the bad guy?

I don't understand this shit. I never have, and I probably never will, and I have a very hard time believing any time someone tells me I'm going to find some wonderful magical guy who's going to treat me right and be what I need. what kind of stupid bullshit is that?

and if I could fucking think about anything else, maybe I'd stopped being so stupidly depressed all the time because I'm always feeling like a worthless insecure nobody. as if I have nothing else going for me.

and it's not the same as self-pity. I know self-pity. This is crazy longing that I can't seem to let go of, and an absolute... i can't explain that. I can't explain what it is. Fear? again, always with the fear. I'm afraid of everything.

and my new guitar is frustrating me. it's always falling out of tune. everything is always falling out of tune.

I feel sick. not physically. My heart is sick.

and i'm emo, because everything I say sounds like a bad cliche.

look to the stars (they won't kiss you and make you think you're something special)
-ununseptium

maybe there will always be somebody who'll tell you that you're overemotional and you write overdramatic bullshit. and maybe that somebody is right?

2010-06-20T09:58:00.000-07:00

sometimes I think I really need to go see a counselor. or to get a lobotomy. I have a lot of shit to work through. It's possible that I'm more fucked up in the head, in general, then I ever thought I was. or maybe I'm just immature and stupid and the reason I've found myself crying every single day is because I have the emotional intelligence of a 13 yr old.

or maybe I need to go back to church and starting being uber christian again? it provided an incredible support group and lots of direction and was a good way of making me very happy and peaceful. although- It's when I let go of my religious devotion that I started completely unraveling and all the good-girl pretense fell away to reveal the very surprisingly bitchy, over dramatic person that I really am on the inside. I want to be a good, mature grown-up, but I'm just not, and I don't know how to get there or even what it means.

I have - or maybe both of us, to some degree- completely and utterly destroyed a relationship with one specific person who I wanted in my life from day one, and who meant so much to me. Now they won't be, in any capacity. and I think I'm ruining the potential for a good friendship with a new person who I really like because I'm still in fucked-up mode. And it's not like I've never ruined relationships before; god knows my relationship with my parents is going to pretty non-existent for a long time to come, and that's because I never try to talk to them, and they never try to talk to me. But I needed to get away from them as much as possible and for long as possible anyway.

and, I'm inadvertently ruining relationships with a few other very special people in my life simply by the fact that my lifestyle and beliefs no longer line up exactly with theirs, and I don't have the goddamn guts to tell them the truth. and one day they're going to figure out that as a christian, I'm a complete fucking hypocrite.

and you know? I have a few friendships that are ok. they're just fine. you know why they are? because as much as I let them in on what's going on in my life, in a very summarized way, I still keep my distance with them. to some degree, I suppose.

aw fuck it. I'm going to go to work soon and maybe today I'll try a little bit harder at being a good employee.

and at the end of all this rambling? I'm still confused as to what, exactly, I'm supposed to do, or even if I'm supposed to do anything. Who the hell is more right about these things? maybe I'm the one who's always, always wrong.

eh fuck it. fuck fuck fuck. I think I was a lot happier whenever I was very christian and to me the whole point of life was something bigger than me. because once my life just became me, isolated, all my shit came to the surface and I've realized now how much crap I really just buried and ignored for a long time instead of actually addressing and growing from. because you know what my worse mistake always was? caring too much about what people think of me, and needing people to think that I'm so fucking awesome.

but I'm not. I'm not, until I can get my shit in order and maybe grow up.

life is a learning process, and we're all just going to keep learning new stuff, always. Here's to learning what you are on the inside. and being human.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

someone posted this on facebook:

You can travel the world, but you can't run away from the person you are in your heart;
You can be who you want to be and make us believe in you.
Keep all your light in the dark, but if you're searchin for truth, you must look in the mirror.

of communication

2010-06-19T21:22:00.000-07:00

So, you're always trying to write things. trying to figure out that perfect combination of words that will just describe. verbs that will jump and grab hearts, nouns that'll dance with connotation, and sentences that will convey such exact meaning that it's as if you've performed telepathy upon the reader and the whole world can understand you, down to the quietest intricacies of your short existence. That is what you're trying to do.

and there's just this. and this is no match for the particular atoms surging through your blood and crazy floating world that is the inside of your mind and the make up of your being. this is not expression.

Dear 6 billion, do you understand? all of you, with your vastly different languages and opposing cultures and clashing of a million different ideas? with your worlds and wants and wretched obscurity? does this connect us?

we are what's around us. my life is not yours.

maybe death is when you finally get to be with the rest of everything and there is no need for this. Perhaps you live life as fully as you can, not worrying about understanding or being understood, and one day when your body is done you get to join that life you lived with the rest of the crazy universe.

until then,

look to the stars
-ununseptium

thinking a bit more about what I've been thinking about a lot lately

2010-06-18T23:24:00.000-07:00

Trying to find out who I am, trying to make the strings attached - discouraged, disillusioned, striving, being - singing in quiet places with no people. Linear life lived with hazed recollection, concentrating on big things and remembering details, magnifying aspects and concentrating inclinations - switching and deciding while contending with sleep; alive.

My troubles aren't purposeful injustice. They're not bigotry, not hatred, not evil. They're inside. they're the indefinable precepts of social interaction and of communication.

Music expresses these things so much better.

hey 6 billion, how ya doin'? Do you happen to know where that one guy is? You know, the one who won't pull my heart strings like a violin and then disregard me like a stranger, the one guy who'll fit all the little niches in my overly sentimental fantasies and be my blanket at night and my best friend and hero? Who'll love me as intensely as I could love him? Oh... can't find him? You say he doesn't exist? Among all you, 6 billion, there isn't one person who'll make me totally happy, at least for a little while? Or even forever? No?

ok. I'll go on then. Confusion suits me well, perhaps. Dreams are always so much more tantalizing.

and sometimes, sometimes, I can be ok with just a teeny glimpse and just a smashing of electrons and just a fun one time thing with nothing beyond it.

and sometimes I'm crushed.

I don't even know. I don't feel like I'm allowed to want anything like my idea of love; and i don't know what snapped and made me want it so much more badly than I did all the years I didn't even consider dating anyone at all.

What is it that I'm so utterly desperate for? It's got to be something about getting inside someone's soul, and letting my soul be exposed and explored and cherished. and--- bodies discovering each other. such goddamn moments like that, go away and are nothing.

I have to sleep now. and this- this will be unread, because there's nobody to read it. that's ok. people aren't generally interested in reading each other's emo rantings about things you'll forget about in ten years.

I want connection. that's what I want. exclusive, monogamous, hormone-drenched connection.

fuck.

I know

2010-06-16T20:10:00.000-07:00

Your music is still with me, your voice and words and breath.
Your scent still lingers here and there,
and memories of you... they're everywhere.
But you know what I know?
I know you felt me too-
and I'll move on just knowing that I meant something to you.

For just a minute, maybe, for just one fateful thought
You liked me and I knew it
and that is why I fought.
Your touch- the way you listened
or at least, pretended to...
the way you held me dearly
and kissed me quiet and soft
the way you knew that I couldn't decide
and yet- and yet you tried

Your music is still with me, your voice and words and breath.
Those moments will not go,
they will not leave, not vanish
in the past but tainting
everything I do and and every word I say-
and if I was just nothing,
just a project, just a lay

then tell me now, like you should have done
before I fell for you
before I pined, before I begged
before I cried into arms that didn't care
and let my insides out
before I longed for just a kiss, just a question
just a simple goddamn reciprocation.

Tell me now, tell me you NEVER, EVER
felt that crazy thing that I felt.
But I know, I know
I KNOW you felt me too-
and I'll move on just knowing that I meant something to you.

2010-06-15T08:10:00.000-07:00

You try and get shot down. Happens all the time. You put yourself out there, say "take me! here it is!" and they take you and bruise you and you don't even matter to them. Here it is, here it is, here is my failed attempt at trying.

fuck it all. just fuck it. I can't move either way, I can't do this, I can't do that.

fuck it all.

Wanting and life

2010-06-07T20:36:00.000-07:00

Making mistakes. Being a clingy, desperate, pathetic excuse for a person who wants to do so much in life.

If I don't beg, if I don't plead, if I don't poke and prod, how do I know waiting will work? How do I trust that all my outpourings of interest and affection will be reciprocated?

This is how my mind works. I've been told not to put so much worth into other's attention.

Logic, logic- logic knows this. I'm not logical. My horoscope says I'm logical, my personality type says I'm logical. Those things are not accurate. I'm another hurt and lonely human without a place to feel completely at peace, and I have so many awesome things going for me and I am pretty OK most of the time, but sometimes, like right now, I am wishing and longing for so many things and feeling so many different negative emotions... and I wonder how many more times I'm going to have to experience this. I've been intensely hurt before, very sad, very angry, all sorts of embarrassed... I live the normal life wherein I have plenty of experiences similar to this. I always secretly thought, though, that eventually I'd get ahead of the shit and figure it out, and I'd come out one day with the life I want, being the person I want and need to be, happy and fulfilled and content with the answers I have to life.

But- here I am again, a different hurt, and different pain, intense and brooding and stealthy...

and, Life is never going to stop. Any path you take, there will be pain. There will be rejection, there will be disappointment, there will be death, there will be loss. There'll be stress and fear and embarrassment, and animosity and fights and disagreements. There will be no concrete provable answer to everything, and there will always be some degree of confusion, some awareness of the unknown and unknowable, and some mind-blowing despair at it all.

I know what I want in all this- someone with which to share it, fight through it, laugh at all of it, and feel good in the midst of it.

Why... why do I need or -think I nee-d to find this in another person? In a tall and handsome guy who'll hold me tight? What convinced me of this?

Why do people want other people so badly?

am I wrong for wanting this?

lots to figure out. I'm 19, I'm immature, and I want to feel the warmth of another body next to mine, and know the secrets and the workings of the mind within that body- and for them to want me, and for them to know me deeply too.

and maybe I don't mean generics here. Maybe I mean a specific person. But I can't; they're inaccessible.

I have a lot to think about.

Hm.

2010-06-03T00:09:00.000-07:00

I was immature.

I was stubborn.

I was unable to let go.

I am unable to let go. But I'm trying, ever so slowly.

I don't understand what happened, I don't understand where it went wrong, and I don't understand why I was so set on one thing.

I think I understand passion now. I understand the psychotic longing for something unreal.

I was wrong?

Maybe, maybe I just have to admit that I was completely and utterly wrong for wanting what I wanted and trying to make it happen even when I knew it couldn't... or wouldn't.

I don't understand romance, or love, or attraction, or anything like that, any better than I did when this first began. How do you interpret your own feelings? How do you ever know what's worth it?

I was never one to contemplate these things in depth before. Now it seems like a prudent thing to do- reflect on it. There's so much to reflect on, and I feel the need to reach absolutes and make adequate conclusions and find a bit of a concrete path to follow. But that's hard to come by- I've changed so much; I don't trust myself not to change again.

I think I am carving out my identity a little bit more, somehow. I know, vaguely, what's wrong with me. Hm, or maybe I don't. ack.

The one thing I noticed? it makes me feel alive like nothing ever did. I feel like now society isn't this massive thing I can't access; I'm a part of humanity. I feel and I hurt and I'm not stifling every emotion in order to fit a standard. I'm exploring my emotions and letting them run wild, as much I can let them.

I think... there are a lot of things I have to realize.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Is it gone?

2010-05-28T18:29:00.001-07:00

Any thing that I say to try and describe how I feel right now is just going to turn out sounding cliche, or like a badly written soap opera. Nevertheless, I'll try to describe it: I just had my heart broken. How did it get shattered and ripped and trampled like this? Who's fault was it? Why did it happen this way? I could've done this, or that, or I should've said this, not that... I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have done so many things. Some things, I don't regret. Some moments I will cherish for the rest of my life. Some may haunt me. Some, I don't even remember anymore. There are feelings I never felt before: feelings I could have basked in forever, feelings that were new and exciting, feelings that made me want to tear the universe apart and ask God why things weren't exactly the wanted I want them to be...

And it all just felt so wrong, and then so right, and then wrong and right and wrong and right and back and forth and I clung with all my might to the parts that felt good, and tried with every fiber in my being to eliminate the parts that felt bad. To ignore those parts. To reason them away. And it was always worth it when the good finally came, and when the good finally won for just one precious moment at a time; It was always worth it when things were just right. But... things were wrong so often.

aw, damn it.

2010-05-20T14:53:00.000-07:00

Ununseptium has been discovered.

Well, that totally destroys my metaphor & theme.

oh well! Live long and prosper, 117, and lead to new scientific breakthroughs!

Maybe the answers are out there somewhere for all these questions and bouts of confusion. ;-)

look to the stars,
-the element formally known as ununseptium

100 Post

2010-05-18T14:33:00.000-07:00

This is my 100th post, made almost a year after the first one. Wonder how I've changed since then.

Quite a lot, perhaps.

Raging

2010-04-20T21:22:00.000-07:00

In the same way you affect an electron by observing it, you wreck a thought by expressing it.

Pretension is easy to come by and it's also unbelievably easy to be cliche.

and... those chemicals in the body that make emotions. I'd rather be a Vulcan some days than have to feel the raging swell of tingly fuzzy shooting lightning that attacks the calm of one's midsection and makes it hard to breathe, makes pupils dilate and sweat glands malfunction. Makes your face contort. Makes you want to bash your head against the nearest wall.

You think with pounding blood and dwell on circling images tinted with the red of panicked uncertainty... You sit stationary like a vat of coagulating tar, your thoughts storming and scattering, while moments escape, fleeing, because your feelings will not leave you alone.

If you sat and thought... concentrated, made your brain obey your wishes and made it go away, made yourself not care, consoled yourself into peaceful compliance with a horrifically unsettling situation -- would you be betraying yourself? What is more legit- what you feel or what you think or what you want to think?

When you want something, but everything that comes with it is undesirable and renders your object of desire almost wrong- do you let the horrifying chemicals rip up your emotions and make the inside of your chest a constant hurricane, or do you rise above the emotional rational and change the very fabric of your perception in order to fit with the current state of affairs?

What is worth your mental effort?

Everyone gets scared

2010-04-13T00:02:00.000-07:00

If the only thing real is what's in front of you

if you're always going to see what catches your eye

if music can pull your heart strings like nothing else can

if sentimentality keeps your past alive

if pain changes you

if time is wasted on fruitless thinking

if procrastination only makes you procrastinate more

if the unknowns kill you

if the uncontrollable bowls you over

if the darkness is too mysterious to approach without trepidation

if memory is fuzzy

if hormones wreck your sanity

if you're lost in too many choices

if bodies decay

if you pine constantly for attention from someone that matters to you

if you just want to be cherished

if you want to know the truth

if the truth is ubiquitous

if the truth is unknowable

if this will go unread for eternity

if profound wisdom is found in the simplest things

if classic literature is occasionally too dense to read with much pleasure

if your back hurts

if someone is dying right now

if someone is crying right now

if someone is having sex right now

if someone is starving right now

if somehow we made it to Mars

if life wasn't so transient

if I could just be happy with you

if kisses made it all ok

if reality wasn't so shitty

if climbing a tree was easier

if public transportation wasn't so frustrating

if processed food is bad for you

if school lasts far too long with not much learning

if you live your life according to society's requirements

if infinity allowed me to go on. if eternity were palpable.

look to the stars,
ununseptium

giant dirt road

2010-04-12T21:12:00.000-07:00

I think perhaps the real catalyst for the downward spiral was realizing that it had come to the point where I was only praying to God when I felt guilty, ashamed, panicked. I only read the bible when I felt like I absolutely had to, not because I wanted to or felt personally compelled to.

Worship was when i came crawling back to God, once again reassured that I was not a wanton wretch.

The pull of another life, other experiences, the freedom from the fear I had no idea how to conquer within the confines of my spirituality- the fear that deviance would render me useless, unworthy, tainted, and open to all sorts of corruption. Letting my mind wander and discover the things I had so desperately wanted to see and hear and feel without feeling like I was condemning myself to a lower standard.

And yet-I have reached that low standard. I've delved into the parts of human life and opinion that i had always fear I'd never have the strength to avoid given the opportunity... and oh how I was given the opportunity. It's been thrown in my face, bashed against the walls of my head, ringing in my ears, breaking down all precautionary attempts at being righteous.

What do I want?

I got tired of being told to sacrifice and knowing that I would never fully give myself up. The world is too much with me late and soon ... I lay waste my want. Could I pick up a Bible again and let it words rip my heart to pieces, or could I go to church and hang on every word the pastor says, soak up the atmospheric charge of meditative worship, believe that my hands and petitions could heal a broken body and help a broken heart? Could I really ascribe once again to the methods and wisdom that is the mark of a faithful and powerful leader, could I go walk on that little path of persecution and ridicule thinking that I know for certain that is exactly right, and this is exactly true, and this is exactly what human life is supposed to be?

Entertaining the thought that all of it was not reality was the scariest, most heart-wrenchingly atrocious thought - yet now I consider it.

Why do I let opposing views echo in my mind? Why is it that slightest reasonable argument or the sarcastic quip that secretly makes some sense can unwravel the fragile security I have placed in my faith?

Why is it that... being so distant and uninvolved has only served to quell, slowly, the years and years of feeling like I just wasn't good enough? Why is it that now I feel like hard work and dedication is my answer, and it isn't prayer or waiting or hanging on some momentary peace?

and then... why do I feel like now all my bad parts are coming to the surface... that I'm mean, manipulative, immature, unhappy, lazy, clingy, insecure, attention-starved, and I put on a pretty damn good front? and now I have an automatic distance between all of my old friends? they haven't seen me much at all in the past 7 or 8 months. I bet I've changed a helluvalot.

that disconnecting myself from the spiritual has also disconnected me from that safe place inside of me where I've always gone to hide, to imagine, to draw, to make my little happy version of the world my own... my childish escape, my introversion, my sentimental longing for the days when I wasn't jaded.

How am I even jaded? I'm not jaded, I'm 19.

I'm prone to negative, absolute statements... splitting my life into dichotomies, being a bit dramatic in all the ways I observe my life. Self-reflection is the only thing that can keep a person level-headed, methinks. I haven't done enough of that lately.

I want... to find the truth. I don't want the truth to be what I've thought it was before, either.

I want more than anything to know whether I'm right or wrong, or even a little of both.

I always wonder what the Nazi or the serial-killer or the gang rapist or the corrupt dictator thinks of himself. I always wonder how the abusive mother or mean nasty gossipy bitch thinks of herself. I wonder how I somehow ended up on a path of decent character and others ended up as isolated drunk homeless people or boring old listless ladies with nothing to do all day but watch TV, or any other number of unfavorable life styles.

If there is a truth out there, and a right way, why don't more people know about it? Why don't all 6 billion people on earth have some access to it? How do we go about our lives just... wow, I dunno.

I've got myself into a bout of weird, hard thinking, and I should really start my homework.

But -- basically, I wan to know that I'm not destroying myself, that I'm not wasting my life, and that I'm not ruining my chances at a pleasurable afterlife... if there is one.

I think there is. Just gotta find out what's what.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

I feel, therefore I write

2010-04-12T14:16:00.000-07:00

Bad poetry
makes us feel important
while we're writing it
makes us feel connected
to the rest of undone humanity
Bad poetry makes us
evaluate our words
and make sly little rhymes
far too many times
explore our little cliche
happenings
dogs sniffing through dirt for bones
bones of our past?
of our true love?
our existential crisis?
Bad poetry
makes good poetry look good
and explains, badly, what's in us
but it cannot be shared without snickering
and cringing
and wishing we had telepathy
instead of crappy unmelodious
disharmonious
vaguely disastrous
mysteriously ambiguous
descriptions as a bad excuse
for poetic expression
and failed attempts at finishing
this terribly long bad poem about
bad poetry.

If

2010-04-06T00:03:00.000-07:00

if bashing in your skull
would make the nightmarish dark come out-
if prying open every bone would make your soul
confront the day and maybe
make you stay the way
I wanted you to be...
then maybe I would not cling to your skin
like an animal to its mother
maybe the explosion of you
could get me in your head
and I would not feel like I was starving
every time you turned away
or had to go about your day
without me
if genies could remove this madness,
make you mine, mine only...
then maybe I would know
what it's like
to know you.

Here

2010-04-04T21:09:00.000-07:00

Don't even remember what it's like to be sixteen-
Don't know the feeling any more, of looking out the window
Don't know the way I thought about
the future and my dreams, the way this age
was so far away.
And I sit here, nineteen, wondering
where the future went
I'm here, it's weird- won't even remember it
this,
this thing here in my hands, scorching my mind
invading thoughts that slaughter like mongols
this will go away

and I thought... I thought perhaps
I'd know the feelings forever, memories would be crisp
and real but
I don't even remember
what it's like to be sixteen.

On a Trip to the Shopping Mall

2010-04-04T00:45:00.001-07:00

When moving through air at the Mall
it's like
you're sludging through tethers
stuck to walls made of plasticy brick-
and the scenes pass you by like a flickered old film
worn well with demagnetization; on walls hang the clothes
that won't be here tomorrow
since magazines say it ain't cool...
but you want numbers to lie so you buy and you buy
hoping air will not choke your lungs
with
tethers stuck to walls built on
grounds of propriety - foundation of Do Not Buy
For it is Not Beneficial To You
To Love this Boy Vicariously
Through Starvation For Affection
since the tethers keeping the air so thickly immobile
will restlessly grab at your legs and your arms
and scream for your oft-fallen soul
since the Buying will render you penniless
and the Loving will just break you bad.

Just might end up somewhere in a fight, in a fight

2010-04-01T12:12:00.000-07:00

You know? Sometimes life is OK.

Sometimes things get done, sometimes things work out alright with people, and sometimes the weather is just right. You feel good for all the things you can do and see and hear and touch and taste and smell, and think. and dream about.

Sometimes it's possible to be ok with the mental maelstrom you're in, because everybody's in one. Just gotta go with the flow occasionally, just gotta relax. Enjoy the sunlight while it's there.

Love unconditionally, almost be a hippie with your pining for kindness and peace. Make it so, number one; live your ideas.

Maybe I'm happy only conditionally, but you know? That's ok, it inspires me to create my own conditions.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Happy couples are making me sick.

2010-03-23T21:24:00.000-07:00

Here's to another long minute spent staring blankly at the blur of shopping-center lights, feeling the familiar heaviness associated with terrible discontent. I am unhappy.

It's uncontrollable madness stuffed into my guts like the hydrogen raging at the center of the Sun, and the only way to deal with it is to be distracted. It's undeniable.

How do you confront something you can't change? How do you accept something that seems so unfair and so unreasonable? How do you overcome the buzzing, biting thoughts that rip at your brain and heart at every resting moment and make you just want to tear reality to shreds?

Why are wishes and hopes so massively overbearing? Why's it so hard to just see the logical way out and go with it? Why is the effort of detaching oneself so seemingly dehumanizing; as if you are removing a part of yourself, compromising yourself?

WHY? I do not understand.

Why are things this way?

Here's to going to bed another night with too many catalysts for bad dreams.

look to the stars (they won't break your heart),
-ununseptium

Wondering

2010-03-22T02:11:00.000-07:00

I'm going to have to come to terms with it sooner or later.

Am I still a christian?

If I am, will I always be a christian?

Or, am I a different kind of christian now?

Perhaps I'm just a back-slidden christian.

Am I?

I don't get it.

I mean, I am putting a dividing line between me and this... thing. It's this thing that involves lost of people, lots of emotions, and lots of good intentions. This perspective on life that I adhere to, that forms my interactions and politics.

I prayed to God this morning because I felt like it, not because I felt like I had to.

That's been my goal- sort of.

I keep saying that I will become fervent again when it's something I WANT to do, that I can't live without, and that I'm not doing for the approval of other people.

-that isn't fake.

Part of me has always, always wanted to be able to do whatever I want. To agree with the things I've been taught were wrong or evil. To experience life free from regret or guilt. To just... stop being afraid.

What am I afraid of?

What are my limits? What do I believe is right and wrong? From where do I derive these opinions? Why do I choose to listen to certain sources and not others? How much should I listen to logic as opposed to emotion, or to emotion over logic?

Why do others believe what they believe? Why are there lies and propaganda out there? How do I know those are lies and propaganda and not the truth? How do I tell the difference between sincerity and manipulation?

How do I know that just because I've gotten used to something that it's right? How do I know that something is actually wrong if I've never experienced it or the thought process behind it?

What if I hold one perspective that I believe is well-informed, only to find out after a very long time and a lot of wasted effort that it was in fact totally inaccurate?

How much of what I see or think is delusion rather than reality?

How many of my opinions do I hold simply because they "feel" good or right?

Is something right just because the argument for it sounds better?

What is the standard for right and wrong? What if there is no "right" and "wrong"? And if there is no right or wrong, are there any standards at all? How do we avoid complete chaos in the absence of absolutes? Is chaos even a bad thing?

If science is the most trustworthy standard of reality, what happens when scientific ideas are proven false by new scientific experiments? If one views everything in terms of its scientific validity, how does one know that there is even enough undeniable truth in science to make it valid?

How much of what you know is derived from your life experience as opposed to intellectual learning? Why is life experience held in such high regard if all it means is that you are completely unaware of everything else beyond *you*?

Are these things even worth wondering? Is it even worth searching for Truth? Should I just stick to what I've been taught because I trust it and feel good in it or should I move beyond my sphere of influence and figure out if there's anything we can all (all 6 billion of us) agree on?

And just because people agree on it, does that make it absolutely true?

And if someone disagrees, does that illegtimize the popular opinion or is that person just crazy? Why are they crazy?

If God is real, would he tell me the answer to all of this? Or would the existence of God solve a lot of questions automatically?

So, what if God doesn't exist? Or, what if gods exist? What if the greeks' religion was true. Just because nobody believes in it doesn't make it any less of a reality, right? So what if we should all be making offerings to Athena and Zeus right now? Is Hinduism true? Or is parts of Hinduism and parts of say, Zoroastrianism true? What if some starving child freezing in the mountains of Tibet, begging for a piece of bread, is the one human on earth who knows the true answer to everything, and that child is going to die tomorrow without even saying a word?

Some times we think we know just because we think it makes such perfect sense; we think we know because we just know. What if every single human on earth is just plain wrong? How do you know that you really know the whole truth and nothing but the truth about any particular thing?

Reality. So close, yet so far away. I don't get it, and I don't know. So it is sufficient enough to go along with the thing you find to be the most plausible according to your feelings, listen to the arguments that seem to make more sense, and always, always keep a skeptical eye on everything. You just might be totally wrong.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Inadequate, worthless, ignorant...

2010-03-07T20:11:00.000-08:00

words I hear on a daily basis.

Where do I hear these words? In my head. with my emotions. soaking every thought, every action. I create my own glass ceiling, I establish my own limits, I refuse to break down my own barriers. I am tied to a lazy sort of fear, wherein I am afraid of changing- afraid that if I SMASH through it all, if I SWEAT and BURN and turn ridiculously, embarrassing red, if I cry, if I shake, if I lose sleep, wear myself thin, run solely on some crazy motivation, some insane desire... afraid if I thrash out at life, say YOU CAN NOT HOLD ME DOWN, I WILL NOT STOP, that I will lose myself. That I won't be me. I'm so used to being timid. Being invisible, shy, non-charismatic, blending in, making excuses, doing everything half-assed, doing just enough to get by. So used to being irresponsible, so used to being late, spending too much money... so used to not working hard enough.

I can never, ever work hard enough. Some people think I work hard... they are so uninformed. Anything I do is what's easy to me. The minimal amount of effort.

I put things off because I can't even let myself succeed. If I succeed I will like myself, for once. If I become what I think I should be, I will not even know who I am.

Does that make sense? How do I explain this?

Ah, I know what is. I take no responsibility for myself. I like to blame everything on everything else. I like to make excuses. I like to slip and slide past the details and scoot on through without conflict.

I want to be sharp, intelligent. Roll facts off my tongue like a walking wikipedia, know logic like a vulcan, make connections like a neuron.

I want to speak. No, I don't. I want to hide behind my timidity because it's easy.

The path of least resistance, yes?

I've had a very specific feeling about the rest of the world, about people, since before I can remember... since perhaps I became cognizant of competition and manipulation and hard work- this feeling that I can't be a part of this crazy, dog-eat-dog world, I can't succeed, I can't beat the rest of humanity, I can't throw myself into the slosh of words and actions. I can't be president. I can't be CEO. I can't save a life. I can't achieve my goals. I can almost achieve them- I can work for them... I can't work hard enough, but I can claw my way towards some dim light of accomplishment, but I won't ever make it.

And the sad part is I keep collecting evidence for this hypothesis through the lack of accomplishment in my life. I've gotten this far, though...

But could I work at NASA? Travel outside the US more than once? Get into the Peace Corps? Get a better job beyond retail? Get any kind of Engineering degree? Get a degree at all? Have a family? Could I write a book? Could I improve my art? Could I really learn an instrument? Could I get a car? Could I move to a different state? Could I get accepted into a good school? Could I get honors? Could I be an officer in Phi Theta Kappa? Could I get a house when I'm older?

I do not work hard. I'll own up to it. I am not a hard worker. I do the minimum to get the mediocre that will keep me afloat, and get me a few compliments once in a while.

I'm tired of people calling me smart. Smart doesn't make a successful life. Smart doesn't finish your homework, or make good sales at your BS retail job, or get you a car. Smart doesn't get you a job at a legitimate engineering or WHATEVER company doing something worthwhile. Hard work does all that. You can be a genius and sit in your mom's basement for the rest of your life. The difference between Einstein and some other obscure, equally curious genius is that Einstein sat down and thought hard, and did the math.

And you know? There's the old cliche about how Einstein failed fifth grade, the common knowledge that he was an astounding lazy, frustrating student who didn't cooperate with academia. We all know history though, and the fact of the matter is that while Einstein dropped the ball of one thing, he made his life worth it. He didn't settle for failure, he found his niche and lived up to the potential he had.

I don't have to be perfect, I have to excel at something that makes me who I am.

Passion and interest and curiosity and hefty dose of integrity is what makes a dream, I think.

How much do I want to do these things? Why is my natural inclination to sit on the couch and lazily watch some interesting documentary and let that satisfy my waning curiosity and educational needs? Why don't I want to stretch my mind to its limits, to think, to work through things? Why is it that sometimes all I want to do is sleep, even when I'm not really exhausted, even when I feel like I don't even deserve to be tired?

I'm stuck in this crazy self-aware immobility borne out of total indecision- what is worth my time? What is fruitless?

Why do I go over this over and over again and go nowhere?

I'm missing something, I'm losing something; or else I never had it and just pretended to. Perhaps I've been fed some sort of false achievement my whole life. Perhaps I learned to early that I only need to do what's minimally enough. The Lowest Common Denominator.

Sometimes I an overrun with thoughts. Overrun with some distant, strange, boiling excitement. Some crazy idealism tossed around in an unbalanced endocrine system, making my blood boil and my stomach leap filled with the crazy static of dreamy, sudden, and shallow determination. The cold fire of a momentary enthrallment. The I AM GOING TO DO THIS. The THIS IS ME.

Perhaps 5 years of rallying the soldiers has made me tired. I've been the oft rallied soldier, electrified with the bubbling of emotion, dashing towards the front line to conquer the enemy, then shocked at the brutality of reality. The ideals do not hold up when it's face to face, when it's real. When it's blood and guts all over you.

When what you face is you, the ideals fall apart. The dreams scatter like a dust cloud, the hormones simmer down to be realigned into FEAR, the mind goes haywire and you back away. You step away, still girded in your boots and camo.

I am presenting a thousand different metaphors here, and switching back and forth through specific situations. To state it all bluntly, I am a lazy coward. I say "I will do this at this time, and I will do it well." I don't. I say "I will learn this, and I will know it backwards and forwards." I forget it. I say "I will learn to have intimacy in my friendships." I remain silent, I fail to care, or to be open; shying away at every turn. I say "I will apply these ideas! This wisdom!" I am a hypocrite. I say "I will succeed at this task, I will make an A, or a place, or be an integral part of this team." I fail.

It's a pattern I break only in my wishes.

I hate to be so... what's the word? Cynical? Pessimistic? Self-depricating? Nobody likes a pity-party, nobody likes it when another person hates themself. We jump on those who down themselves, we say "No! You're awesome! You're pretty! You're smart!" Maybe it's everyone's responsibility to be civil and nice and encouraging.... but it is each personal responsibilty to make those compliments true (well, not necessarily the pretty one... that's not important compared to say, being a good person).

So I struggle with myself once again, and I make one tiny tiny tiny step. I hate myself again, bash my head against the wall, wonder what the hell I'm doing.

What do I want to do??? What is my passion? What will get me to hunker down and DO something? What is this thing that will motivate me?

I am currently running on this strange need to apply all these wise things; integrity, responsibility- this desire to be not just a good person, but an excellant person. Someone people can trust and look up to and seek advice from and respect. I want respect. I want people saying my name in the context of something good and important.

I want to be important- that's it. Famous for being awesome. That's it. That's what I want.

And that is the source of all my problems. I care too much what people think. My entire being is conctructed around the scant bits of approval I can pine for. I need approval. I need some kind of acknowledgement that I belong in this world. That I can have friends. That I can just be.... that I can be... what? Good? Good for who? Good for what reason?

If not for others, if not for God, if not for me... why do I do what I do? Or rather, want to do what I want to do?

Tf everything is not based on the approval of humanity... what is there? The approval of God?

God. Always circling back t0 that subject... everything in my life comes back to God. To christinaity. To the spiritual world. To this massive, colossal, boundless world of God that has been my frame of mind since I first began to learn about life.

GAH. You see? You see the circles my head runs in? The arguments? The doubts? I'm not the only one who thinks these things, who has these unbearable realizations tearing their very being apart, I know this.

It all spirals down into this cess pool of confusion. Tear everything down to its core level and it is as the crazy at tearing every bit of matter down to the quatum level. The incongruencies, the unbalanced nature of it, the flitting unintelligible movement of incalcuable stuff.

I always think I had it more together before. I always think "I used to be so much better at this." But I never was. I never had it all together. I never had it straight, never had my questions answered, never stopped struggling with faith. Never had any of anything straight.

Life goes on, right? The only way to let life go on is to live it by the moment and hang periously onto some shaky framework of standards, or else you fall into something detestable.

And with that, my self-pitied musings come to an end, and I move on, and I will forget about this quarrel until another unfullfilled night.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

P.S. I should stop thinking about myself so much. Figuring me out takes too much mental energy. Hey, other people, let's talk about you.

How to Reconcile to Two Worlds

2010-03-04T16:36:00.001-08:00

The two stand in the fast-thinning throng of victims, but they speak as if they were alone. Eye to eye, voice to voice, hand to hand, heart to heart, these two children of the Universal Mother, else so wide apart and differing, have come together on the dark highway, to repair home together, and to rest in her bosom.

In one world you are boring, repressed, bigoted, stupid... in the other you are sinner, wretched, sad, lost.

In both you are a waste. You are called to two different spectrums, with myriad degrees in between. Both claim to back their side with reason, an intellectually sound, emotionally viable solution to the weirdness of being alive.

In both you are a human being; you are either right in your natural urges or wrong and must be redeemed.

Freedom is either in unrestrained exploration or passionate obedience.

Love is either natural or divine; common or hard to find.

This life is either culminated in death or done with the last breath.

You can have sex, or you can't. You can cuss, or you can't. You can indulge in anything, or you can't.

What of being in the middle? What of walking that fine line between two worlds? Is the threshold too thin or is it possible to walk along it?

Inevitably, one is an uphill climb. The other is a slope downward; it is the easier choice.

Can you despise your heritage? Can you THROW it down, trample it, say "I will return when this has been proven true."

Can you face the faces who approve or disapprove of you, bare their sadness, let their words gauge your progress? Can you accomplish the feat of becoming your base self... can you let yourself fall?

Neither world understands. One must find the middle to know the struggle of deciding the course of your spirituality, your morals, your daily choices. The little things that enact a new future. The tiny thoughts that tangle up your established fall-back mechanism, your safe place of belief.

Perhaps I'm too dramatic. But... where am I? Could I reject one world for the other? Any choice inevitably rejects the other alternatives; even walking in the middle is a choice towards mediocrity.

Feelings are bullshit. Emotions are untrustworthy. Logic is convoluted. Reason is ill-defined.

What do I trust? Some base knowledge I haven't figured out yet. Some sort of solid ground that can't be disproven, can't be argued, can't be doubted.

Or perhaps it's even a mistake to look for a concrete solution. Maybe I've been falsely taught to look for absolutes; maybe there are none.

Vanity of vanities,” says the Preacher;
“Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.”
What profit has a man from all his labor
In which he toils under the sun?
One generation passes away, and another generation comes;
But the earth abides forever.
The sun also rises, and the sun goes down,
And hastens to the place where it arose.
The wind goes toward the south,
And turns around to the north;
The wind whirls about continually,
And comes again on its circuit.
All the rivers run into the sea,
Yet the sea is not full;
To the place from which the rivers come,
There they return again.
All things are full of labor;
Man cannot express it.
The eye is not satisfied with seeing,
Nor the ear filled with hearing.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

The Me-Too Conundrum

2010-02-03T18:31:00.000-08:00

One of my good friends and I have an ongoing joke about a condition called the "me-too conundrum." The two of us have so much in common that any discussion we have will inevitably contain at least one moment where one of us goes "me too!" Because we have that thought, or interest, or problem in common.

Over time, I've realize that I say "me too" to many more people more often than just her, and it's interesting to realize this.

The more people you get to know, or talk to, or just generally come in contact with, the more you start realizing the degree to which we are all very similar. We have all been deeply hurt, mortified, nervous, scared... we've all had excellent times with friends at some point, been so excited, been strangely at peace with something. Everybody thinks, everybody wonders, everybody dreams at night. We all get perplexed at ideas we've perceived as wrong or stupid, all been so angry, so sad, so disappointed.

It's the human experience - the self-aware contemplation or feeling of things, events, other people. We are all varied yet all the same.

In fact, someone has had these exact same thoughts before, at some point. Who? When? I don't know, but I suspect that every human at some point has or will have had some poignant moment in which the universe seems at once so simple and so detailed.

It's how we get along, by realizing we all have that common thread of just... being. Whoever that "we" is to any particular person is varied according to ideology, I suppose, and whatever that simplicity is is specific to the same set of standards and beliefs... but the point, my friend, is that I'm not as special or deep as I have thought or been told (at times). I have nothing more to offer than the next person, I merely have my unique set of events and perceptions to throw in the great and overwhelmingly cosmic mix of human consciousness.

By "human consciousness," I mean the collective sharing of the insides of ourselves, the common thread of those chemicals and hormones that make up our emotions, and those emotions that influence thoughts and sculpt our very being. We are this form with arms and legs and a head and torso, and whatever variations that form may display do not change the core of it.

hm. Listening to Blue October while procrastinating a research assignment that I absolutely detest. Something tells me I'm not the only one.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Dust Poem

2010-01-25T19:36:00.000-08:00

We are a course of days, a length of time condensed into a solid form, and an interaction of sounds.

I breathed in and considered that course, length, form, and interaction.

There was a twinge of ecstasy at the thought. I wanted it coursing through my blood, in order, perhaps, to understand.

I breathed out and there was dust.

This is that dust, a left over. Because I can not explain.

More ramblings containing introverted self-reflection that will be boring to pretty much any one but my thought-strained brain.

2010-01-21T13:52:00.000-08:00

If I traded it all
If I gave it all away for one thing
Just for one thing
If I sorted it out
If I knew all about this one thing
Wouldn't that be something

I promise I might
Not walk on by
Maybe next time
But not this time

Even though I know
I don't want to know
Yeah I guess I know
I just hate how it sounds

One thing - Finger 11

It's like I'm in some sort of limbo where everything I ever wanted and everything I always promised to avoid are happening. I realized the other day how I do and say things and talk to people and see things that I never before had the courage to... not I never thought I had the right or privilege to. I'm talking about very subtle social things, not necessarily the big things like working at NASA or getting a book published or falling in love and getting married. Those will happen in due time- and I'm only sure of that because the small things have occurred, at least to some degree. I have a lot of friends, ever more acquaintances, and I'm learning how to make very close friends. I went to NYC and DC on a whim, and had a blast. I'm in college. I'm involved, in a very complicated ill-defined way, with a interesting & cute (and frustrating) guy (or, maybe it's not him who's frustrating, just the entire situation. dunno). I can meet people and talk to people and not want to crawl into a corner and die. While I'm still shy and reserved and get nervous or uncomfortable often, I'm way less inflicted with timidity before. I'm living on my own, paying my own bills, away from my parents. I'm more liberal than before, and actively (some times) exploring opposing views- which means I'm learning, finally, to think for myself, and to not be afraid of contradiction. I think once you let go of the conviction that you are Right and they are Wrong, and you Know the Truth, then it's easier to be able to listen to other ideas and contemplate that just maybe things are different than how you thought they were. I keep thinking to myself, I have to run away and see the other side or else I will become a scared and narrow-minded slave to my ideals. I'd rather go away and find out the intricacies and consequences of what I've been taught it wrong, than to stay isolated on my own little unlearned island of belief. I say this, but honestly I still approach all things with caution, and all things get filtered and analyzed by my own framework- but I learn. I need to experience. I need to break free. ll my spiritual struggles in the past are the result of some very, very deep and a unresolved conflict that the only way i can absolve is by bringing it to the surface, exposing it, and allowing myself to be vulnerable.

The only way I could ever be passionate and dedicated again is if I realize I can't escape it, and I return because I want it, not because it's required of me.

Not to say that I'm "falling," maybe I am. Backsliding, that's the term. God I'd hate to admit that. My worst fear for the longest time. Maybe my pride needs to be destroyed, maybe that's it.

Needless to say, I am basically confused, and basically restless. I'm figuring out exactly what i believe in, what my real opinions are, how I really feel about things, and how to choose what i feel about things.

Back to the original intent of that paragraph... it's just so many little subtle things I can hardly explain, that just make me feel like I am, however slowly, actually making my dreams come true. I just have to keep concentrating and working hard and eventually things will happen the way I hope they do. One day my BIG dreams will come true... if I work hard, and build integrity.

Hm. What prompted this very disorganized and ADD rant? probably the impending doom that is try-outs for Model UN (still need to figure out a speech and write a 2 page paper), and last night. Last night was... i'll just say, more than it had been before. I didn't get any sleep. Memories of it and everything related to it inspired the posting of the above lyrics. That song describes how I feel about it all, including my christianity.

hm. ugh. yay. eek. gah! onomonopeia ftw.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Ramblin' Rose

2010-01-18T19:42:00.000-08:00

You know, I tend to write and think very melo-dramatically. I'm really not like this in every day life. I mean... I hope not. It's just, how else does one express really confusing and contemplative and complicated thoughts? I only know how to make generalizations. Part of me is scared to analyze the little details, to bring every aspect into the light... to be wrong.

Being wrong. I think I have too much pride for that. I can't be wrong. Everything has a justification and an excuse and a reason. It's never me! It's the world, my genes, my crazy insane brain. Not me, by any means!

Being over-dramatic again. You see, whenever I say a definite statement, my mind always find 10 things to contradict it. I think one way, and immediately think the opposite.

So maybe I'm not completely devoid of the ability to take responsibility, or admit my facts were wrong, or that I have a faulty opinion or impression. Hm.

Non-Sequitor time!

Last night (after the mock trial) I went to the gay club in downtown with my roommate. It was interesting, and the Drag show was pretty entertaining even though it was supposedly just an extension of the real show and was therefore less exciting. Whatever, it was new to me, so it was just as fun. It's especially fascinating to be in the midst of gay match-making, after growing up being taught homosexuality was a horrible sin. While in DC we went to a gay store called Lambda Rising, and I bought rainbow pins (and anti-war pins!) to show my support. A while ago I also announced on facebook how I was no longer against gay marriage.

Growing up christian, it's like everything is magnified as a conflict. Everything is a debate when you're christian in this always-changing country.

I'm tired of boundaries and limitations and judgement. I want to understand ways of life I'm not familiar with. Not as a distant study or anything like that, but as a friend.

hm. Rambling. Got stuff to get done.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Poem 5000

2010-01-16T14:44:00.000-08:00

I am not an artist.

an artist harnesses human ideas
makes them into something
and then someone identifies, understands
and it's not that I'm misunderstood-
I just haven't moved beyond myself yet

Hopefully you understand this perilous quest
to be a part of humanity
in a more connected way
Where your identity is the earth
(you are the borg)
Making observations about minute aspects of everything,
succinct conclusions, rhetorical summaries
describe it all in smooth eloquence,
in distinct harmonies, unmistakable authority
in the field of human existence

I have not done this
I toss my obscure bits of thinking
into a whirlwind of life, time,
it's not anything that's important
What is important, absolutely?

I have not decided-
I am not an artist

I FIGURED OUT THE PROBLEM WITH MY BRAIN (and why I have this crazy obsession with Life, the Universe, and Everything)

2010-01-15T16:44:00.000-08:00

While browsing around looking for more info about Engineering, I stumbled onto to that Jungian Meyer-Briggs Personality thing (because apparently Engineering is a good career choice for an INTP, which I am):

People with the INTP personality type are global thinkers. They see everything as one giant Entity that is connected, and seek knowledge about that Entity. They constantly seek the Truth, and have ultimate respect for the Truth. It is not easy for the INTP to reach a conclusion about the Truth. Their auxiliary function of Extraverted Intuition allows them to absorb the many complexities in our world, and they are driven to consider each of these complexities before reaching a conclusion. Once they have reached a conclusion, or discovered a Truth, they are *very* particular about the way that Truth is expressed and understood. They want to know that the principles of their understanding have been understood correctly, and demand absolute precision and correctness from others when describing these principles. They also apply these standards to themselves when communicating their knowledge. If they take the time to develop their communication so that it meets their own approval, they can be extremely good educational writers.

Yes, yes, I'm aware that PERHAPS most of these personality things are BS or whatever, or that things are so generalized as to be able to fit any personality if worded correctly.... but guess what. IT DESCRIBES ME. so, eff off, nay-sayers. (must add smiley face, :-), to indicate that I am not horribly angry or anything like that)

anyway. So that descriptive paragraphs about INTP personality traits is what explains the content of this very redudant blog, and what, pretty much, is going on in my head all the time.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Hodge Podge

2010-01-15T09:31:00.000-08:00

We are constantly inventing and reinventing ourselves. You are never the same forever. Ideas and opinions run through brains like a temporary carnival, selling and entertaining and leaving once the weather permits.

I went ot New York City and saw the buildings. I ate up the big lights and huge stores and massive advertisements down Times Square, shielded my face against the wind at the top of the Empire State Building, ate in an Italian cafe that was a veritable hodge podge of every culture that had passed through Manhatten Island. I walked with my friends, walked everywhere in the freezing New York winter, taking pictures at any interesting angle. I took New York City like a drug and I'll go back one day.

I saw DC, too, which proved to be much less jam-packed and in-your-face than NYC. We saw the famous memorials, the white house, the capital building- much less epic than expected, but still interesting nonetheless. I hung out with people I'd never hung out with before, and went to see local things, local restaraunts, bed time was 3am every night.

A week felt like a month, and it was like we all had beonged there for that duration of time. It was pretty darn cool.

And I came back, and slept alot, and let him touch me in ways I hadn't permitted before- and now again I dream of a Prince Charming who won't so readily do those things. We do not want the same things, he and I. It's slowly dying, or at least, if it isn't, it must. Sooner or later it has to.

Am I confused? Yes. Wanting something and hating what comes with it is a terrible postion to be in.

I can let it go, I can. It get seasier every time he wants what I refuse to have.

I want to go back to New York- I want to look at it again and walk around under the massive buildings and the amalgamations of cultures and the utter orderly chaos of it. The small, packed streets are cozy, almost, like the entire city is hugging you. And it's scary too, because the dark alleys and dirty subways and countless homeless are mixed into the hubbub, and you always have to watch your back.

Hm. I have stuff to get done, and things to think about.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

2010-01-04T13:16:00.000-08:00

You know, sometimes, I am profoundly content. Despite every insecurity and fear and reservation that I have, sometimes I can just sit and be astounded. Life, you know... man, I've gone over it so many times. Perhaps it's becoming redundant, but life is so interesting. All the ins and outs and exciting and depressing and perplexing things... how could I ever not possess at least one tiny inkling of total excitement of all the possibilities there are?

Was reading Thus Spoke Zarathustra this morning, and it's pretty interesting. I sort of wish I would have read it without first having read a book explaining Nietzsche's life and philosophies so that I could read it without the filter of trying to pick out the exact meaning of the text AP Lit-style, so I could just enjoy it, but I still find it interesting. The translation sort of annoys me- it reads like a translation. I hate when that happens- translators try pinning the exact parallels in english and totally miss the point about this being a book of prose. While the reader gets the meaning, we don't get the beautiful writing it could be had someone translated prose to prose rather than german to english.

But anyway. That's just my nitpicking- I probably couldn't translate any better. All I have to show for four years of learning german is a vague understanding of a small selection of vocabulary and prepositions and the ability to perhaps understand someone provided that they're speaking very slowly. I could churn out a few sentences if I thought really hard. But that's it. Not fluent by any means. It makes me kinda sad, but what can you do with german? Nothing realted to engineering, as far as I know. I should really concentrate on spanish, or maybe start japanese. Maybe arabic, in the event that I switch back to international relations. Might not happen, though. Can't afford to switch once I begin.

So- when it comes to Zarathustra, so far there seems to be a theme wherein all the conventions of self-sacrifice or self-debasment are challeneged (by a hermit, of all people)- but that could be the Intro to Nie

wll finish later.

Some more psychologically-wrecked motivational rambling

2009-12-26T15:43:00.000-08:00

I'm tired of commercials, and ads, and pointless retail work. That stuff is fine, generally, and is nice for somebody else- someone is making money off all that. Good for them.

I want to do so much more. I don't want to stay caught in this silly whirlwind of BUY BUY BUY and all this consumerist crap. It is not my life. It is not who I am. I'll admit it's useful sometimes and cool and interesting and everything has its place, and when I need something... hell, I need it. But it is not so important to me all the time.

I want to get out of retail asap, and I am sooo tired of hearing annoying commercials all the time.

I want to do something more with my life, to create, to organize, to help people, to see the world... damn, I'm 19! bad financial situations with my family set me back a bit, and I was never by any means instilled with any real sense of ambition. I draw ambition from the leftovers of morality lessons in hollywood films, and scrape it from the shortcomings of those who fail, and leech it off those who succeed. And I lose it, all the time. Sometimes all I want to do is sleep, or to be mindlessly entertained.

You know, the way I see society... there is a certain inevitability in everything that has happened and will happen. it's the course of history, after all. The market place is an inevitability, just as the corporate giant is, and just as the homeless are, and the middle class, and all the intricacies of life. These things are inevitable because they are evident in existence, they are how it is. Does it always have to be the way it is? No, if a utopia could ever survive.

So- there will always be retail, so long as we have the economic system that we do. I do not plan to be working it, however.

I will not settle.

and I say that knowing it is all an upward battle, fighting with weak weapons of thoughts rather than actions, ever so slowly inching towards a vague and idealistic dream.

Yea. Can I go beyond myself? Can I be what I've never been? I keep myself back with well-trained fear and hesitancy borne in an inability to just let go.

I also can't decide what exactly to dedicate myself to.

I keep saying these things about myself, and make no effort to change.

I make no effort. Some random bursts of MUST DO IT OR DIE, but never do I sweat it out. I go with the flow. laid back.

That's because I'm indecisive and don't know what exactly is worth my time.

I feel so old, and I feel like I miss out on so much.

But you know, I always get what I want to some degree. I want to be a creative genius who can help people. I want out of this mediocre life. That, exactly, is what I want. Everything else is just tools and time.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Mad World

2009-12-16T14:36:00.000-08:00

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very mad world mad world

Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
And I feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me

And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very mad world ... mad world
Enlarging your world
Mad world

-Mad World, Gary Jules

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

The more I see, the less I know.

2009-12-10T12:41:00.000-08:00

It's true when they tell you you'll never stop learning. There's always a new lesson or a new epiphany to be had, or a new mistake to learn from. There's always those habits we become aware of within ourselves, and those ideas that change, and that focus that gets shifted from one thing to another.

Sometimes, I feel like the more I let myself getter closer to other people, the more I give up to them, the more I let be exposed, the more I lose myself. Sometimes, I just want to tear down all my walls and let the world see me for every horrible and wonderful bit that I am, to let every nerve and every negative emotion and every thrill of vulnerability explode in one blast of transparency. I just want to conquer the world with pure dedication, sweat on my brow, passion in my heart- but passion has been fleeting for me, and I am caught in whirlwinds of confusion wherein I grasp and flail for some solid foot hold - and I always, always fail.

There are so many things I don't want to confront, because there are so many things I want. Possibilities and selfish wishes that will be jepardized... egads. Such confusion.

God. ooh, what a strangely painful subject. God, Lord God Almighty, creator of the heavens and earth... Jesus Christ, savior, Lord, the lamb.

Always been there... always my foot hold. And, ha, how lovely it is to be caught in anything but the whirlwind... to be caught in His love, His glory.

and- damnit- how many days can I go doubting this? Thinking it's less real than I thought it was- can I possibly, possibly, say THIS IS TRUE to everyone?

It's illegitimized by different perspectives. I don't want to go around saying THEY'RE JUST DECEIVED because it's totally possible that I'm as convinced of an unreality as the next person. What's true? atheism? buddha? Allah? Will I be damned for being a gentile? Am I nothing? Is Wicca true? New Age philosophies? the millions of Hindu gods? Am I on my 476th life, having yet to reach Nirvana?

What philosophy is true? Who's more right, Nietzche or Kant? What'll work better, republican ideas or democratic ideas? etc. etc. and, hey, terrible thought- what if Hitler was right? Some people are certaintly convinced of that. Why? Why do people believe some things? Why don't I believe those things? Why do those ideas even exist?

How do we justify evil? What is evil?

Am I too cliche for wondering these things? Grew up christian, loving God, so involved in the church, loving it, believing it, KNOWING it- the undeniable peace and excitement and joy and crazy crazy crazy coincedences that couldn't have possibly been anything but an orchestration by God.

I hate that I have become but I always feared- I think and I thought I'd always know.

But then I listen to other people, and I try on their viewpoint, and it's either ridiculous or viable, and return to my own a little more disillusioned each time.

How do I know what is absolutely true?

They warned of this- being swept away to devilish ideas, being convinced of lies, of losing the faith...

no, I am not losing the faith, I still believe in God. God is there, up there, somehwere, and I'm secretly a little bit mad at him for letting everything be so ambiguous, for not just getting it straight already - for letting me doubt, for letting me justify, and venture away from home.

Am I being silly? Ha. I am a child of God, born-again, the elect of God, co-hier with Christ... and when I remember that, I am at a better degree of peace. Because I know, I know, I know, that there is something true and real in me and something true and real in the universe.

Now, the details... those will take some figuring out.

I love Jesus. I know that much. Why? I don't now why.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Muck

2009-12-08T10:07:00.001-08:00

Nerves. Abdomen. Endocrine. Thoughts. Mind. Feeling.

Do the apes know these things? Do the birds? Do the lizrds crawling on wet mossy rocks ever notice the stars?

Bits and pieces of random stuff at 2:30 in the morning

2009-12-03T00:32:00.000-08:00

Life is this crazy crazy thing where all we do is go go go.

If I could make a single piece of art that shows all emotion, all feeling, all sadness, all sentimentality, all decisions, all the craziness of the human heart and mind - I would make it, then destroy it. A thing like that can't exist peacefully outside ourselves.

theelkmechanic: I love living in the future.

Sitting in Charlotte airport using my machine in

Troy to update 4 servers in Phoenix. Beat that,

@wilw

wilw: @theelkmechanic I drove the Starship

Enterprise. [::dramatic pause::] Your move.

theelkmechanic: @wilw

Just watched the Hannah Montana movie. I want to go the country and fall in love with a handsome cowboy. Or, just hang out and look the pretty trees. Whatever.

so much to do, so little time...

For all the slobbery-ness, I like kissing. I want to do it again. blaaaaaaaaaaah.

blah.

I complain too much these days. Need to be more positive. Gonna watch some disney movies and repair my terrible grown-up-ness.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Hey, December.

2009-12-01T19:42:00.000-08:00

"Hey, December, how ya doin'?"

"Good! How are you?"

"I'm good. man, it's been a while since the last time I saw you."

"Yea, like a year."

"A year... wow. I can't believe it's been that long."

"Been crazy, hasn't it?"

"Yea... hey, I want to talk about something."
"Go ahead."
"I'm so... different. From last year, I'm different. December, you've come and gone and now you're here again - and I have this profound sense of anomie, loss... ennui, even. But only sometimes."
"People can change a lot in a year."
"Yea... I just feel like this particular trip around the sun was a difficult one. I mean- it's not like a bunch of horrible things happened, but I've grown up a little."
"You definitely have! I see you've got your own place, a nice job, you're in school. You're even seeing someone."
"That's just it - I... I don't know what to do about that. I get sucked into the moment so easily. I just know it won't last. I'm growing up but I feel like I'm growing up lopsided- one part is stronger than the other, one part is still in infancy. This is one of those parts. I'm so... impatient. And I'm still attached in part to my childhood, which becomes farther and farther away with each passing day, and each passing obstacle, and each paycheck. I'm not allowed to whiz off to far away imaginative places, I can no longer escape. My reality is here, in reality, and my dreams are reduced to the Freudian traumas of the night- no more epic fantasies played out quietly before bedtime. No more flying carpets and rescued princesses and ridiculous wishes for all the toys in the world. No more wonder in the details, the first impressions of things.

I remember- I remember the smell of the library where I used to live. It was the smell of magic, and romance, and knowledge. It was the smell of that tiny, secret, sentimental place in my heart where all my sweetest memories and most poignantly lovely moments are stored. It was the smell of life, and of my life. Of many, many fun memories. I loved that place, and spent hours browsing the books, discovering things I'd never heard of, experiencing stories I hoped to never forget.

And then... I could go on, and on, about all these things stored so stoicly away in my brain, all the emotions and feelings and lovely things I dare not revisit.

I knew this day would come; Peter Pan warned of it. I'd heard the grown-ups complain of it before. I was convinced, so convinced, that I'd never lose that mystic child-likeness, that the wonder would never leave my eyes, the utterly unbearably fantastic excitement of life would never leave my guts wrung by butterflies. Ah, now, now I am a part of the world, and I have no connection to that magic. I have no right to that wonder, for my eyes have become dull. I have no more butterflies.

Oh, December, you come again yet you are not the same. Neither of us are. We are not the same, December."

"Oh- it is not so tragic, though- You can go and do the things you never thought you could. You will learn soon enough how to reclaim that magic and still be the person you wish to be, and be responsible. We conquer these inevitabilities by knowledge, and we will fight because we are aware.

We'll notice the leaves on the trees, and find our butterflies, and love a good story. And we will, most of all, store up that wonder for the children we learned of who had no such thing.

Th smell of that library is still there- though things have changed, the scent is still there."

"I suppose it is. Than you, December, for the talk."

"Anytime."

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Eigenstate

2009-12-01T02:31:00.000-08:00

See the pendulum swinging, swinging
the low groan of the bell.

Hear the midnight ringing, ringing
another hour fell.

Know the storm of thinking, thinking
of what cannot be told.

Feel the fear of sinking, sinking
in something much too bold;

A precipice- too cliche, this-
but cliffs do often tell
of what is it to fall so hard, to leap, to jump,

to lean
of chemicals: adrenaline,
endorphins surged by touch
of lessons taught too long ago
of fearless, faithless now

See the cliff, the precipice,
the pendulum over its side,
Grand Canyon a puddle compared to this chasm
of you, and me, and this.

One of those mostly happy posts.

2009-11-23T20:28:00.000-08:00

I guess I should be candid, honest with my self. I often get all torn up over the craziness that is, you know, existence - I don't understand anything, I try to figure answers and solutions to Life, the Universe, and Everything (even though we all already now that it's 42, of course), yet I tend to miss out on it.

I mean, mostly. I go back in forth all day in my head, thinking of this or that, seeing it this way, changing my perspective, thinking of stuff from the other side, from this side, from a completely and daringly unprecedented side (I guess). I am, undoubtedly, wholly indecisive.

And -sometimes- I realize just a little bit about how I need to do stuff, I need to grow up, to get by, reach goals, do my homework - fight the moment, see the future, plan, remember, think. If I didn't get so tired and lose so much energy I'd be a fiery ball of curiosity, getting the things done that I want to do, or would like to do, such as finishing a drawing, practicing painting, building something out of cardboard and glue, becoming an engineer, going to Europe- making a final decision on whether I want to pursue a relationship with this one guy or not.

Confusing. Or- not necessarily confusing, just daunting. Vast. Complicated. Oddly simple when taken as a whole, or broken down into little easy-to-digest steps.

Money's a thing to be dealt with, that keeps me and a lot of other people from doing the things we truly want to do.

so.... make money right?

No, no, make time. Time.

ooh, struggle, struggle. Hello, myself, I am going to punch me in the face.

Oh, I'm 19! Got two jobs I barely make 20 hours total with, live in a tiny messy apartment, am going to community college and probably failing two of my classes from procrastination... am in a strange semi-dating relationship with a boy I'm not allowed to touch, technically...

losing my talents slowly. I cannot...

I can.

I'm... 19. What am I? Who am I? Thought I'd have this solved a long time ago. Apparently I'm supposed to be grown-up, an adult?

No! I want to have fun! I want to sit around all day doing a few random errands and watching TV or perusing facebook or texting people and totally not doing anything important at all... oh, wait that's what I do anyway.

I've gone over this too many times.

*sigh*

Nothing has changed. Time to take a new approach.

I am going to major in engineering. I am going to make my college education worth it, my career worth it, my life worth it, and I am going to make my free time sweet sweet unguilty bliss.

Cosmopolitan magazine says to not tell you biggest goals to anyone- to savor the sweet secret success, to come out on top with the admiration emerging from the inside out.

I have to stop be afraid to fall, to fail, and- I have to stop being afraid of responsibility. Of losing sleep. Of missing opportunities.

Life doesn't just happen. You have to make it happen.

Life is waking up in the morning, comfy in your bed, seeing the slits of light through the window blinds .

Life is hugging a crying friend, looking into their eyes when they speak, listening to their words.

Life is laughing loudly and unabashedly with your friends, making inside jokes, unwilling to leave the good company.

Life is holding hands.

Life is a fun art project.

Life is being fascinated at something you've never, ever seen before.

Life is falling asleep after a very, very long day.

Life is the euphoria of accomplishment after you've finally finished something.

Life eating delicious food.

Life is a crisp and clean new shirt.

Life is holidays.

Life is so much happiness, and so much pain, and so many unanswered questions. It's writing this unread blog, and reading the news, and being excited for tomorrow. It's nerves, it's sweat, it's navigating the arduous corridors of social interaction, and being rewarded with new and old friendships, and maybe even love... It's conquering darkness, spreading light, and having peace on your deathbed.

it is being here, on earth, and exploring it.

It's fun, you know?

Gotta get my stuff done.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Unfinished

2009-11-20T13:05:00.000-08:00

"Man would sooner have the void for his purpose than to be void of purpose.' -Nietzsche

Today I woke up feeling like I had a hangover(or what i suppose would feel like one), because lately I haven't been able to survive off a few hours of sleep like I used to. I had to slowly and painfully drag myself out of bed, stumble haphazardly across my room and turn on the radio to my favorite morning talk show - Kidd Kradic, or however it's spelled, in order to start feeling like I wasn't going to implode via multiple aneurysms. I managed to get to class twenty minutes late, as usual. Sitting in that class after so little sleep is pretty painful, because although I am totally paying attention and am interested in solving the given equation, it's likely that I haven't taken a shower yet and my whole body is in a daze. I am never, ever taking another class before 10am, ever again. It is undeniably apparent that I cannot go to sleep before midnight and I can not wake up faithfully before 9, so my only choice is to acquiesce to the circadian rhythm I have unwittingly created.

Anyway. That was probably a really boring and pointless paragraph. I can't wake up on time for anything, boo hoo. I sleep like a rock, no matter what. bah.

What got me typin' was my usual musings on life and the universe- trying to figure it all out. Today, after surviving my math class, I went to the infamous Back of The Cafeteria, a strange and unsacred place populated by the funniest nerds in community college you will ever find. I hung out for maybe an hour, laughing both with and at them, and coming away with two free xBox games that I have no use for until I get an actual xbox. *shrugs* There is the funny girl I rode the bus with my junior year, the guy who can imitate Donald Duck, the funny gamer who always brings some kind of anime to watch, the guy who always finds someway to interject a joke with some serious consideration of facts, and the football guy who's also a complete geek that happened to have dated my current roommate in high school.

There are plenty, plenty more characters, too.

this post is entirely non-sequitous

2009-11-16T17:27:00.000-08:00

To equate my painting with symbolism, conscious or unconscious, is to ignore its true nature. . . . People are quite willing to use objects without looking for any symbolic intention, but when they look at paintings, they can't find any use for them. So they hunt around for a meaning to get themselves out of the quandary, and because they don't understand what they are supposed to think when they confront the painting. . . . They want something to lean on, so they can be comfortable. They want something secure to hang on to, so they can save themselves from the void. People who look for symbolic meanings fail to grasp the inherent poetry and mystery of the image. No doubt they sense this mystery, but they wish to get rid of it. They are araid. By asking 'what does this mean?' they express a wish that everything be understandable. But if one does not reject the mystery, one has a quite different response. One asks other things. -Rene Magritte

I am studying Rene Magritte for a project, and I am quickly becoming fascinated with his ideas and the way he had a poignant sense of how to express them. He was an artist in the truest sense, that sense being a person who has an unlikely grasp on the more sublimely questionable aspects of life. If you can turn convention on its head- you are an artist. If you can use convention to create, to insult, or to redefine beauty- you are an artist. You are an artist if the story you tell resonates out to the farthest reaches of culture in the subtlest ways. You're an artist if you can express the exact thing others can't. Your words become theirs, and their feelings are what made your words.

I am, truly, fascinated by the ideas and the people of these ideas who influence- who make it to the rank of pop culture. Mona Lisa, Freud- names and titles you can toss around and most people will know what you're referring to.

aagh. This has been one of my weirder days (or, arguably, my weirder weeks, and months), and I'm not exactly articulating my thoughts very well. So much is bouncing around in my little short-circuited brain, I don't know what to do with it. There's always so much.

There's something in the water, they say.

Life- it's inevitable. I feel sort of like Spock and Hamlet all at the same time. I have emotions but I do not want them, and I am the walking embodiment of indecision, living in this huge existential crisis.

I'm scared, do I run? Or do I dive full-force into a maelstrom of this thing I'm totally not familiar with? All the voices in my head yell at each other, all my nerves became frayed a long, long time ago- I am -ha!- I am alive. How interesting. the binds we get ourselves into, the perspectives we grapple with.

Perhaps I think too much.

I am unsure. That's what stops me. I am exploring a dark cave, not pursuing the light. Maybe that's what gets- the pull between my insane curiosity at the mysterious, and what's safe, good, adherent to my chosen social values.

look to the stars(there's a meteor shower tonight!)
-ununseptium

Stuck

2009-11-15T01:17:00.000-08:00

I am stuck in the middle of TWO HUGE CHOICES.

A. propriety, duty, consequence of personal vows made long ago, expectations of people, loving advice, my own beliefs
B. the chance at something that could turn out either wonderfully or horribly

I KEEP ENCOURAGING WHAT I CAN NOT HAVE.

I KEEP NOT KNOWING WHAT I WANT. Moment to moment... this, that, this, that.
Sometimes, sometimes, I do - sometimes; sometimes it's gone.
I'm a people pleaser.

how much?

wooooooords make this happen. glances and smileys and technology make this go on.

uncertainty, you bitch!

and an honest-to-god electricity surges through the touch of skin.

and a rarity is realized, a gem of interaction is made evident.

maybe?

always, always, indecision, and a slight unfairness.

This is my first glance of romance (maybe).

Disney, you bitch.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

What is it?

2009-11-12T07:33:00.000-08:00

We are never who we want to be. We are rarely who we are. We live in successions of overlapping impressions- interactions between memories and hormones and, always, a pining for the most right way to adhere to the things we've been taught. An elaborate net of awareness binds our interactions with each other- we are all confused, none of us know. We know convention- we know what is and isn't.

What is important? What is one thing, absolutely, that every single living human being on earth can cling to? What is one idea, one notion, that isn't even remotely subjective, that can't be twisted or denied? One idea that hasn't been changed or challenged or modified? One standard that isn't manipulated? One positive, resounding, undeniable truth?

Find his, and maybe we can start solving some problems once and for all.

A series of vicious circles, back-and-forth, is what life is. It's something. No matter what you do, you're doing or thinking something wrong.

Ha!

I could just laugh in bitter unknowing.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Bugger

2009-11-09T22:07:00.000-08:00

Oh, indulge, you.

Say - just one more!

one more minute!

One more glance, one more word, one more... just one more.

one inch closer to the cliff, I say, one inch closer!

Inch by inch you approach your fall, your inevitable destruction.

You are not this melodramatic, don't worry.

I am living.

One more moment, day, breath at a time.

I am a script, undirected.

I am -ha!- what am I?

I am another voice in oblivion,

just one more word.

One more thought, and I'm in.

Indulge, you, just one more time.

See how it goes, you.

Possibilities - the Halloween Edition

2009-10-31T19:04:00.000-07:00

Do you ever imagine being someone other than yourself? Do you ever try to realize what and who you are? How you would be if you had made different choices, where you would be if you had different level of motivation, more ambition- what you would be like if you were more selfish, more daring, less morally inclined. I don't know if I've asked it, or if I read it in some psychology magazine, but there is a thought floating around in my head from somewhere: How much can you change before you stop being you? What are the limits of you, where are the borders of what is really, truly you and what isn't?

I'm going to a Halloween party with alcohol tonight. What if I got drunk? What if I got ragingly, unabashedly, embarrassingly throwed, and woke up 3 hours late for work with a massive hangover? What I if was late, again, to work, lost my job, and didn't care? How many ways can I destroy myself? How many ways can I push away all of my loved ones, cut them off, ruin my life, do as much to make Elizabeth Ann a waste of breath, a wheezing, pathetic ounce of drying flesh; haggard, hurt, hurtful, and bitter?

What if I did everything I said I'd never do, that I'd be horrified to hear about? What if I became the mother who beats one child while keeping a facade of a perfect family; what if I became the manipulating politician, the pothead whore, the bitch?

What if I stopped believing in God?

These are all things I'm capable of justifying, convincing myself of, ignoring my better judgement for. Facing the consequences for - becoming the story. The tearjerker. The illustration to teach children not to do the things I have done.

It's a scary thing, to think of these things. Can you imagine you doing everything you thought was horrifying and evil? Being the complete antithesis of you?

And- what if that really was you?

and- what if you took one step towards, one inch, became one ounce of that?

what if you fell apart?

Who are you?

What are you?

Are you anything?

Am I allowed to ponder these things?

What if I'm not, and I'm doing it anyway?

The possibilities of how far you can go is too easy to see when you're right in front of the first glimpse of it., and when you've been face to face with a challenge you don't know how to handle... and you kind of don't want to handle, because you want to see what happens.

This is when you stop and say -what and who do I want to be?

That's the only question that will get you anywhere. Nobody knows who they are, or what they are capable of.

---

Song of the Day:

Watcha Say - Jason Derulo remix

---

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Learning

2009-10-25T15:13:00.000-07:00

I'm still learning to accept the fact that I am now an adult. I am 19; not exactly a full-blown grown-up, but maturity has its roots in adequate initiative in grasping the more subtle lessons of life. I'm(along with, arguably, everyone else) surrounded constantly by a consistent stream of morality lessons. You learn through gossip not to backstab or do weird things, you learn through advice columns not to be clingy or manipulative, through disney movies how to dream and hope, through church how to conduct your actions, through school how prioritize- every place has its code, its rules, its procedures to learn. We are elaborate robots of norms and mores, our signals words and emotions rather than binary.

This is the culture than I live and have grown up in, a hodge-podge barage of ideas and colors and lights, noises everywhere; ambiguity as the only surefire thing. Even if you adhere to one idea you are, undoubtedly, aware of the other ones.

There are two things I've learned about humanity:

1. Everyone is different
2. Everyone is the same

It's a contradiction in terms, I suppose, but paradoxes are always the most true. For every inconsistency there is a trend, for every perspective a common ground. We all have the capacity for evil, so I've heard, yet we all have the unabashed ability to do astounding good. We hurt, manipulate, act selfishly; and sometimes, someone gives of themself, we laugh together, we make a concerted effort to make others happy. true altruism - nearly unnatural, and that is why it is all the more special.

And this circles round to my originathought about becoming an adult - all the minute lines of conduct there is to follow, the stuff to get done, the rite of passage involved in being considered a legitimate person worthy of being lisened to. I once heard a nice quote saying something along the lines of "the mark of maturity is being able to say "I lost it" as opposed to "it got lost." Taking responsibility for every action you possible can. Learning the fact that others rely on your timeliness, your integrity, your honorableness. Realizing that though you may strive to be a nice, caring person, you will inevitably hurt someone and some point, whether unintentional or not. It is impossible to pay attention to every detail ever, and impossible to please everyone. In becoming an adult, you have to learn to not worry about whether people like you or not - unless you're a politician. Otherwise, you just have to get your work done, whatever it is. For me, it's finishing tasks my managers set for me and work, and doing my homework.

Homework. My biggest lesson in being an adult is knowing when to sacrifice now for the sake of later. It's hard, and some part of me says its not that important, I can always get by, because I always have. But back to the altruism thing- if I can't do good for myself, how will I have the confidence to do good for others?

What is "good"a dn "bad" is a whole other story- i think, basically, the golden rule might be one of the only real intrinsic rules that actually can apply to every culture, every religion, every notion of goodness ever concieved- "Do unto others and you would have them do unto you." And, another one, "Everyone is equal/ all human life is important."

Beyond that, it's all ambiguous. It's possible someone's wrong, or I'm wrong, or we're allequally wrong because it's all relative, but whatever.

becoming an adult- forging your way through the world, formulating your values, learning, learning, learning, always learning since day 1 to death.

I'm 19, I'm an adult, I'm responsible for stuff, I still have much to learn and I suppose I won't ever be finished.

This is fun.

---

Song of the Day

I'll Fight - Wilco

---

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Hamlet

2009-10-08T13:57:00.000-07:00

I remember the countless days of sitting, sitting always. If I had a battle to show it would be myself, my fearful, cowardly self. And then I think- Surely I'm not the only human abhorred by waste of breath, surely I'm not the only one who fears the inevitability, sometimes, of obscurity. I follow the pattern of millions: belief, doubt, belief, giving up, needing sleep, inspiration, decisiveness, indecision- a constant slur of existential crisis. I am never sure. I am Hamlet. To be or not to be? For all its cliche aura, that really is the question.

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Want.

2009-10-04T16:35:00.000-07:00

I want to do everything and nothing at once.

I want to be everything and nothing at once.

I want to stop time and do everything over again.

I want...

I want to see the face of God. I'm mad at him. I've always been mad at God. I don't understand him. Bible says I couldn't understand, though. Damn.

I want and don't want.

constantly.

Listen to Wishing Well

2009-10-01T07:26:00.000-07:00

Standing 8 feet from the stage of a rock band is the strangest place to look around and see what the other people in the audience are doing. Intent looks, off-beat bouncing, a lot of beer. The vague realization that you are in with a bunch of other humans trying to figure things out. We're all trying to sort out emotions, get our stuff done, understand (or, arguably, organize) the cosmos. And, I dunno, maybe it's the disillusioned among us that have the hardest time. The heights of accomplishment one can achieve and the depths of utter disturbance one can experience are two ends of a large spectrum of the measure of how we do. This spectrum is not linear, it's a sphere, like the earth, that you move around in.

Why am I obsessed with this idea of everything? My brain says look at this, all of this, look at all of it- not just one part, not just your part. Try to figure out how perfect autumn weather can co-exist with child molestation, or how Jesus isn't the same to everyone, or how you can keep destroying your own goals one undone step at a time. How does evil and good exist together, and how are they somehow connected by a vast grey area? All these freaking opinions! I am not disillusioned, I'm trying to figure out at what Lowest Common Denominator I can survive in without compromising too much- at what vantage point can I stand in order to see everything?

Sickness- it's everywhere, inside and out, and then there's all this practical stuff you must keep track of, all the positive attitudes you must remind yourself to have, all the places you have to be and things you have to do in order to survive atleast mildly happy in this world, depending on what you want.

This seething mass of humanity that is a water-covered planet in the middle of a raging universe is not here for no reason; we have some weird responsibility, no matter our beliefs, to not live like the other animals. Then again, I have to save room to say this: Unless you want to.

And that is where the lines fall apart. We make, build, talk so much- and then there's the one hedonist who throws us all off our high horse of ambition, letting us question everything we do.

Hm. I have to go to Spanish Class now. And? I want to learn spanish, to conquer the world. I am a conquistador, for an inquisition.

or maybe I'm not.

---

Song of the Day:

Wishing Well - The Airborne Toxic Event

---

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Faster

2009-09-30T12:58:00.000-07:00

Run, heels knocking
breath haggard, cold threat
in the slow-motion sweat of a
RUN!
of pounding bounces, feet to planet
inertia undone with the movement of blood
suck in your air, your dirt, your hair
swinging wildly like the pendulum
of your fuzzy crazy thoughts

This body, yours
skin, hair, folds there, teeth, puffed gums
throw it into that motion,
frustration of seconds
rubber hit cement, swing!
Gravity yours, bounce back
challenge the world with your
shocked marble legs

faster, faster, FASTER
like you cannot do with
the fuzzy crazy thoughts,
shut down, a weight
an ounce per redundancy
patterns ruined by your
RUN!
step down, breath
let sweat be your ambition
physical, move
move
like you cannot do
in the air, just a second
breath fast.

Heaven for me would be pure discovery.

2009-09-30T10:31:00.000-07:00

I have to write. I have to write- I am compelled to write by God, perhaps. Not as some magical mysterious talent thing, but as communication. These are words, with meanings, and they convey the ideas ideas of another person; a convolutedly confused mind with some set patterns that insure stability in a chaotic mental storm.

Social norms- those rules, those things that keep us at peace knowing where are boundaries are (even if we usurp them). I think- what if I was everything I am to every person I ever met? What if I were purely transparent, unmitigatedly honest... if I said every thing I think exactly way I think it; no filters; no fear of losing the shakily shallow, yet oddly attached, relationships I have with people if I confess my deepest darkest things to them. I am a human, so are you.

And: I apologize to myself for not writing more... for not communicating more. I don't need to frabricate prose to feel like I'm making use of this ability to record life- to communicate. But I need and want to remember the details of my life, my moods, the people I see and hear. A lady who's traveled all over the world said she kept a journal everywhere she went- wrote it all down, every vivid observation, every sense, every impression, every event she possibly could in the time she had to write it. And? She reads those journals, and remembers. The country comes back to life for her, and she recalls the feelings and sensations of that time.

I think a huge issue in life, in regards to ourself, is forgetting. We forget what we've said to ourselves, we forget our goals, we forget our beliefs, we forget the people we know. Day by day our brain is bombarded and we each live in a constant whirlwind of just everything. And some moments are so poignent, some so exciting, some so messed up, we need to recall every once in a while. A fuzzy memory is so untrustworthy- a moment's account from the day it happened is more an epic than a memoir, it is your life recorded.

Alas- I must go, I am meeting some people for lunch. Hopefully, I will write about this day, and everyday hereafter - why not? Even if no one ever reads it, I don't care, I want to remember.

---

Song of the Day:

A Glorious Dawn - Carl Sagan Remix

---

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Male dominance happened gradually

2009-09-02T09:42:00.000-07:00

So, my humanities professor presented us with an interesting concept yesterday that I thought was pretty fascinating.

We're learning, as always at the beginning of an all-inclusive history/art/philosophy course, about prehistoric peoples and origins of civilzation,etc., including the ideas & religions related to them.

This is all from a combination of my humanities book and humanities & art history notes, so forgive me if it turns out a bit fragmented.

-Prehistoric people tended to view time as cyclical, according to seasons, movement of sun & moon, etc.

-Women seen as having a better understanding of time because they experience cycles even within their own body (you know what)

Base of "matriarch"- Mater; latin for "mother"

other words with mater: material, maternal, matrix

recall: concept of Mother Earth

women seen as origin of life, because, of course, you are born from a woman. Therefore, female dieties are associated with life, earth, feritilty; such as Venus, Ishtar, Isis

note frequency of female fertility figures, i.e. Venus of Willendorf

By contrast, male dieties are typically up-high, in the sky, detached from the world, more concerned with the afterlife, powerful. Zeus, Allah, Osiris, Jehovah(God).

Male fertility symbols (the phallus) are usually associated with power, i.e. the Washington Monument and shape of the Stele of Hammurabi's Law Code.

Sorry, have other stuff to do right now so I'll have to leave this for later.

other notes to come: view of balance in west african cultures shown through their artwork

advent of gender superiority with the transition from paleolithic to neolithic

role of Nefertiti in Akenaten's egypt

other concepts of ideas associated with female v male; squares & curves, other stereotypes, archetypes, etc.

note to self: do some more research

---

Song of the Day:

Large Hadron Rap

---

look to the stars

It's pretty ambiguous.

2009-08-04T05:16:00.000-07:00

You wish for a just a little bit of something,
You run after just a little glimpse,
You find yourself just a little bit entangled-
then it's gone, and you have to let it go.

You run in constant lonelinless unless you hear your God; you ponder at the schemes of life when there's less of a chance of rain; when it rains, you stay home, longing for a clear sky- though you like the coziness and what you wish you had.

You avoid the revealing glance of eye contact for fear they'll see a rotten soul; or you will see one where you didn't want to see it - you're afraid they're like you, or that they'll know every thought you've unwittingly thought without thinking about it.

You want to speak in metaphor, but the allure of plain straight-forward statements runs around like a little reminder of who you're supposed to be.

You hate that thinking about such things is making you choose, and you hating that not choosing is inadvertantly having the choice made for you.

You want polar opposites, but you don't actually. You just want confidance in who you are; you do not want to be condemned for one stray breath.

You contemplate things you hate to contemplate, you hate admitting you thought those things because you're afraid that speaking about it makes it more concrete than it was before.

Back-and-forth tug of war; except it's not two sides, it's 14, 15, 16, a thousand. It's a million little nuances, a trillion little details.

No, there is no tug-of-war; you know who you are, really, why are you suggesting you've lost an inch?

Have you?

Or are you just floating around?

What are you passionate about?

Who are you passionate about?

Why is it so black-and-white; why are you making it such a categorized split?

Why do you feel like you did once before? Where's your head?

No, I'm overreacting. I am really am.

Just taking a deep breath, just living, getting things done, loving Jesus, loving people, loving life; wanting.

Sighing really long and really loud, needing more sleep than I've got.

There's such secret comfort in Jesus, such warmth in the Holy Spirit and a smile towards God. He's there, always, he's loving, always.

Life is just interesting, that's all. He'll take me where I need to be. There have been no conclusions made here.

---

Song of the Day:

Where You Go I'll Go - Brian & Jenn Johnson

---

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

In contemplating the fact that most songs are about love...

2009-07-29T20:18:00.000-07:00

...I figure I must be missing out on something, right?

maybe.

---

Song of the Day:

C'est un Rital - Michele Bernard

---

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Flawed

2009-07-25T18:48:00.000-07:00

You know how I used to feel?

Trapped in immobility. I'd have nightmares where I couldn't open doors, couldn't go through windows. I was stuck, always stuck where I was.

I could never do anything. I could never move, go anywhere I wanted to. I could never be the person I wanted to be.

I looked at the world and all I saw was masses upon masses of things of which I couldn't be a part. People I couldn't know, places I couldn't go, things I couldn't do.

I've never, ever been the best at anything.

This is not self-pity. This is anger.

I could never move in those dreams. I had one where I was trapped by a spiderweb, around my neck, I couldn't break it, I couldn't get free. The spider, with a billion eyes, was coming and I couldn't get away. I was trapped.

I constantly feel trapped by inertia. Indecision, tiredness, sloth, sleep, indecision. Distraction, lack of confidence, giving up.

How do you go beyond yourself? How do you move? How do you stop what you are and become what you can't stand not to be?

I will not settle for mediocracy. I will not settle for lonliness, failed dreams. This is my life, my world, my future. Nobody else is going to make it for me, no one else is going to be creative for me, no one else will do my homework for me, no one else will prevent me from wasting every second into oblivion. I am meant to do things, I've got my heart set on something that I can't quite pinpoint.

Goddamnit, I'm done. I'm done I'm done I'm done. I won't sleep till I figure it out, still I go beyond my self, till I stop quitting.

I can't stand it. I can't stand myself.

Where's this passion? Where's my passion? Why don't I draw anymore? Why don't I write? Why do I still speak like a shy kid when I know I'm tired of being shy?

Why am I afraid of vulnerability? Why do I run from embarassment, from hard work?

People tell me I'm a hard worker; I'm no hard worker. If I worked hard, I'd be somewhere by now - I've got the stuff in my head, but I've got no heart.

Why do I want to be set apart? Am I regurgitating my individualistic American culture, trying to live out all the heroic hollywood crap I've feasted on for years?

I'm just so so tired.

I see people my age, 18, who've done amazing things. How did they do that?

They just did them. They worked for it, tried and tried and tried and never gave up. They didn't let people tell them to be practical, they didn't waste their time or money on fruitless exercises.

Inertia, sloth, tiredness, indecisiveness. Who am I?

I'm a selfish young dreamer, fundementally flawed.

And I'm tired.

---

Song of the Day:

Candle - The White Tie Affair

---

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Internet-induced ADD (Or, another pointless, boring post by no one imparticular)

2009-07-19T07:13:00.000-07:00

I've sort of been distracted by Twitter lately. By "sort of," I mean it has virtually become my new blogging platform and my brain is currently being rewired to forever write sentences that fit within the 140 word limit.

I get a couple more followers everyday, but the ego-boost is mostly false because they're either trying to advertise their products or tell you how awesome their twitter-follower-multiplier is and how if you download the software you're using you can get 1 million followers, etc. Occasionally someone cool like Brentsnarkier comes along, though.

Blah. So far, for me, it's a mostly useless and time-consuming medium, although I have encountered a few cool things once in a while.

Anyway! Found a couple of interesting new blogs, Motivated Grammar and Revenge of the Nerd. The first is written by a linguist guy (obviously, right?) and the second is a music blog, but the author hasn't written in 5 months, apparently. That's OK, for now it's a sizable collection of obscure bands I've never heard of that I can discover.

And, oh no- I totally checked twitter while writing this. I'm such a distractable loser.

I also just thought about ten things in about 1 second: Action, New York, Ghana, colunteer, mock trial, twitter, math homework, speech homework, calculator, youtube, church, blog, and the fact that I've run out of milk and chocolate syrup.

I also just thought about NASA and people working on particle accelerators at Fermilab.

egads. 21ST CENTURY, YOU SCREWBALL!

Need to get postage stamps & envelopes so I can send my letters to Ayatollah Khomeni before August. yay!

---

Song of the Day:

couldn't think of one. Make up your own song and sing it at the top of your lungs in the middle of a crowded street.

---

look to the stars,

-ununseptium

Don't be Stupid to the Stupid

2009-07-16T11:11:00.000-07:00

Image by anthony mattox via Flickr

I have a problem. I read the comment section on websites.

I mean, this isn't necessarily bad, but it's mostly a waste of time and brings out my generally well-muted sarcastic, snappy side.

While generally ignoring the "yo mommas fat this is gay mofo" comments, I get caught up in trying to destroy the comments of people -out there, somewhere- who make racist, prejudice, ignorant, or completely illogical statements. This is all subjective, of course, and there could be someone out there(and there has been before, understandibly so) who thinks the same of my comments that I leave strewn about the world wide web.

But seeing both sides of an argument, I know what it's like to be the person trying to make a legitimate statement, however flamingly or emotionally charged, and be called stupid or be the brunt of sarcasm. It's infuriating, especially when you actually believe what you're saying.

Then again, it's just too much fun when you notice something witty you could say as a rebuff to completely shoot their comment down- thing is, I would never, ever say it to their face. I wouldn't look at a person and do that unless it was [passive-agressively] jokingly.

The internet makes it too easy. The anonymity is wonderous when you want to let your rude inclinations take a stroll out in the open. Youtube is pretty good for this.

But- you propose a logical, calmly handled discussion and you continually want to punch that stranger, that username, that mysterious origin in the face. Straight up.

Not that you're(Not that I'm) particularly logical or objective. We all have our biases, I'm told. We all commit a few fallacies, usually. Some are hard to detect.

It's just safe, mostly, to ignore racist or prejudice comments- but it's so hard.

Maybe it's best to let yourself punch the racist, but when it comes to things like, say, arguments about the moon landing hoax, you should just not be rude.

I should just not be rude.

(Guilt trip, much?)

I feel guilty for other things, too. I have a hard time ignoring gossip, or even staying out of it sometimes. The line between concerned discussion and plain slander can be so obscure- I think the simplest rule is that if you're making a judgement or saying anything negative, you should just shut up. If you're going to talk about a person behind their back, say only positive things. Talk about the things you like about them - unless you're genuinely concerned. But you have to be tactful about that, and be ready to say the exact same thing to their face.

I'm lecturing myself here. Life's a lesson.

I started writing a whole 'nother spiel, but I'm going to split it off here and make it another post.

Tally-ho!

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Activist-like Volunteer stuff

2009-07-10T23:51:00.000-07:00

These are a few things I've been looking into, that are all activist and volunteer stuff and whatnot.

International Relations: Ok, not really anything related, it's just one of the majors I'm thinking about. Maybe get a minor in education too?

Become a Member of Amnest International: If I ever get around to getting consistant paychecks, I'll definately do this.

Amnesty International's Online Action Center: Basically a mega-list of things to write letters about and who to send them to (like the Supreme Leader of Iran!), categorized by issue. It's a great way to atleast feel like you're doing something important.

Hope's Door: I've already emailed a coordinator to see about volunteering for childcare. I'd be watching the kids while the moms are counciled - it's a shelter for victims of domestic violence.

Dream Shelter Ghana: This one is a very young organization, only 3 years old, and I'm sort of wary of the bad grammar- I've been corresponding with the "country manager," and he doesn't have very professional writing skills. But if they're legit, I like their vision and I'm totally up for going to Ghana and tutoring children... or even helping them with their grammar. >.> (and their website, it has broken links- which is why I provided the posting on Idealist instead)

There's also an opening(I suppose) to volunteer writing brochures for events in my city or editing videos for the city TV channel.

And I want to do Mock Trial at my college, along with joining the College Dems club or SIFE or something interesting and resume-building like that.

Oh God- I'm doing it to myself again. I'm joining 14 different things and filling in every single minute of the day and basically committing slow suicide...but it's fun! I have to start over in college anyway. All my clubs and officer positions and AP classes and (minimal) volunteer work count for nothing (except a couple scholarships, I guess) now. eh. That's not what I do it for- I do it for fun and the experience and the chance I'll actually find out what I want to do. Plus it's fun to meet new people. When it comes to volunteer work, on the other hand, I know it's because someone needs to do it, and I want to be the one who does.

And, you know, everything is done for the glory of God and to some extent the betterment of the human race. Maybe I'm counterbalancing the folks who eat baloney sandwiches and watch Judge Brown all day, or the ones who spend thousands of dollars on cosmetics and clothes and spas and stuff. I've seen Dr. 90210; it happens. But I can't judge! No judging, no judging...

Bah. I'll judge. You're an idiot if you spend thousands a year on absolute crap. feed the goddamn poor, for chrissake.

I noticed my language has become a bit more forceful of late. Is this me slipping or is it me done with being ashamed? dunno. I only cuss cuss in my head, when I stub my toe or act like an idiot. It's theraputic.

Anyway. Movin' on. Up till 2:30 am after working a 11 hours and riding a bike 45 mins in 104 degree weather both ways- and I gotta work at noon til 10pm tomorrow, with more bike riding. woo hoo! And there's classes to attend on Monday.

OMG COLLEGE CLASSES ON MONDAY. Wait, I've done AP, what am I worried about?

This, imagionary folks, is the rambling of a crazy person. Pay no attention.

---

Song of the Day:

Probka - Intars Busulis

---

look to the stars,

-ununseptium

Can you imagine anything beyond the Universe- and space itself?

2009-07-09T11:14:00.000-07:00

Cover via Amazon

Today I was reading another chapter in The Elegant Universe by Brian Greene, which is some sort of crazy brain-stuffing of "superstrings, hidden dimensions, and the quest for the ultimate theory." It's mostly been about the special theory of relativity and the general theory of relativity, and all the time warping and weirdness of constant velocity motion that goes with it. It's a really interesting book that makes high-end complicated physics accessible to the regular non-physicist folks (like me).

Anyway. I just read one of the most mind-boggling passages of my life, and I'm going to retype here (without permission! muahaha) just because it's that cool.

Disclaimor: I'm a christian, so I am by default not very convinced of the big bang; I believe God created everything. I once got into a discussion with another christian friend who believed that God used the big bang & evolution to create the earth, rather than creating it in the way most young-earth creationists envision. That's a whole other topic, though. My point is that since then I've been more open to thinking about it and contemplating the implications of the big bang. I'm not gonna lie, it's interesting and very tantalizing. Imaginioning the big bang & evolution is kinda fun.

Anyway. Just picture as you read.

Passage about the big bang from The Elegant Universe by Brian Greene:

"If the fabric of space is stretching, thereby increasing the distance between galaxies that are carried along on the cosmic flow, we can imagine running the evolution backward in time to learn about the origin of the universe. In reverse, the fabric of space shrinks, bringing all galaxies closer and closer to each other. Like the contents of a pressure cooker, as the shrinking universe compresses the galaxies together, the temperature dramtically increases, stars disintegrate and a hot plasma of matter's elementary constituents is formed. As the fabric continues to shrink, the temperature rises unabated, as does the denstity of the primordial plasma. As we imagine running the clock backward from the age of the presently observed universe, about 15 billion years, the universe as we know it is crushed to an ever smaller size. The matter making up everything- every car, house, building, mountain on earth; the earth itself; the moon; Saturn, Jupiter, and every other planet; the sun and every other star in the Milky Way; the Andromeda galaxy with its 100 billion stars and each and every other of the more than 100 billion galaxies- is squeezed by a cosmic vise to astounding density. And as the clock is turned back to ever earlier times, the whole of the cosmos is compressed to the size of an orange, a lemon, a pea, a grain of sand, and to yet tinier size still. Extrapolating all the way back to "the beginning," the universe would appear to have begun as a point- an image we will critically re-examine in later chapters- in which all matter and energy is squeezed together to unimaginable density and temperature. It is believed that a cosmic fireball, the big bang, erupted from this volatile mixture spewing forth the seeds from which the universe as we know it evolved."

The best part is this:

"The image of the big bang as a cosmic explosion ejecting the material contents of the universe like shrapnel from an exploding bomb is a useful one to bear in mind, but it is a little misleading. When a bomb explodes, it does so at a particular location in space and at a particular moment in time. Its contents are ejected into the surrounding space. In the big bang, there is no surrounding space. As we devolve the universe backward toward the beginning, the squeezing together of all material content occurs because of all of space is shrinking. The orange-size the pea-size, the grain of sand-size devolution describes the whole of the universe- not something within the universe. Carrying on to the beginning, there is simply no space outside the primordial pinpoint grenade. Instead, the big bang is the eruption of compressed space whose unfurling, like a tidal wave, carries along matter and energy even to this day."

Like, what?

ALL THE MATTER THAT HAS EVER EXISTED, FROM QUARKS TO MASSIVE STARS- IN A POINT. WITH NO SPACE OR MATTER BEYOND THAT.

All time, all existence, in one point.

That is absolutely beyond crazy to think about- especially the no space part. The part with nothing.

Even the vacuum of space today as billions of particles flitting in and out of existence, along with cosmic rays and traveling light and radio waves and all that jazz.

But imagine a vacuum with ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. It's not even a vacuum, because how the hell does it exist??? aaaaaaaagh.

and, btw, a point with that much mass, as described, would have an unimaginable gravitational force- EXCEPT IT WOULDN'T BE GRAVITATING ANYTHING OR BENDING ANYTHING IN THE SPACETIME CONTINUUM BECAUSE THE SPACETIME CONTINUUM ITSELF WOULD BE INSIDE THAT POINT.

How did it explode?????????????????????????????

HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?

I guess I'll just have to keep reading.

---

Song of the Day:

The Element Song - Tom Lehrer

---

look to the stars,

-ununseptium

Your Excellency, Ayatollah

2009-07-08T22:31:00.000-07:00

"the individualism put forth during the American Renaissance[19th century] was
never meant to isolate us from the experiences of our fellows." - Humanizing
Our Lives, Humanizing Our World

.... FINALLY! Somebodey nailed it on the head. Individualism does not necessarily equal disconnectedness. It's the same in the Body of Christ and everywhere; we are each unique & individual but intrinsically connected & involved with everyone else. That's the way it is.

I don't remember exactly what was said, but I once read/heard something about individualism that presented it as something negative. In the mind of many traditionalists(or whatever), individualiam equals isolation, selfishness, introversion.

I think that's an unfair view. It's not a give-or-take, black-and-white situation, this thing between individualism and the group.

All this makes me think about the very tiny, subtle internal perplexion I had going on earlier, which is slightly related but not entirely.

I was writing letters to the Supreme Leader of Iran today, Ayatollah, telling him/the government to let the people of Iran speak and express themselves. I had this strange, illogical thought going on in my head, though- I was wary of offending some sort of (how do I explain this?) cultural norm pertaining to The Group as a Whole. Like, I dunno. I don't know anything about Islam, or Iranian social customs, or what ideas Khamenei has floating around in his supreme little head- some part of me wanted to assume that he/they/Iran do not have the same ideas of the individual, personal expression- as if everything is done for the amalgam. Everybody, family, group, society. Am I making sense?

I can't assume Iranian culture isn't anything like American culture. It's like I imagine any non-American culture to be completely inverted. For example, one of my friends was surprised that Neda was wearing pants- because don't Muslim women have to wear long dresses and head scarves and all that? The answer is no, not necessarily, even though plenty of very conservative muslim people push for more conservative apparrel, just as, I suppose, plenty of very conservative christian people push for more conservative dress. It's mostly among families, though, I presume. But I have heard that Iranian women in big cities such as Tehran do tend to dress more western and don't always wear head scarves. It's not like Afghanistan or anything; I think the situation in Afghanistan ruined our image of the muslim world.

Anyway, going on- Why is it that I'm afraid of offending Ayatollah by assuming he'll understand what I'm asking for? Will he? Has he ever been exposed to the same ideas I have been? I don't know these things.

The whole time I imagined him putting down my letter, looking up to his secretary with furry brooding eyebrows, completely offended at this snooping little American from the godforsaken West- I swear to Heaven that scenario was running through my head. Like, what if I start a war or something- Ayatollah calls Obama up, "Hey! This stupid kid wrote me a letter, I just wanted to let you know Allah has cursed you and our two countries will never even remotely cooperative, ever. We won't even talk to each other." blah blah blah. I mean, egads, we don't even have a US embassy in Iran. Not that I have any influence. It will, most likely, never get seriously read. I dunno. Anyway. Long tangent.

To clarify: all this is elaborated from reservations merely present in the back of my mind; the sort of brooding reminder to be polite.

Writing letters to foreign dignitaries is sort of an adrenaline rush, only because of this fear. Offending them, sounding like a typical American... sounding culturally daft. The fear that my efforts will infact negatively impact the people, like when the compassionate actions of Moses inspired Pharoah to make the Israelites to work twice as hard. Maybe it was the comment I read somewhere that Iranian officials are blaming the Iranian protests on western influence. I'm fueling the freakin' fire, by an ounce, an atom. Maybe.

"Stupid American, in our buisness again!" Says Ayatollah, unhappily.

*sigh*

---

Song of the Day:

New Math - Bo Burnham

---

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Searching, Searching, Overwhelmed, Searching

2009-07-07T17:59:00.000-07:00

Image via Wikipedia

I was searching around the internet for various humanitarian-whatever websites and came across humanity.org. It's very interesting and I like what they've written.

I also somehow stumbled across a blog call The Assimilated Negro, and it's very interesting. I like that stuff, different perspectives. I also like the song he posted; it's very melty and soothing and makes me want to take a walk through a grove of autumn trees.

Dang. I like, need a boyfriend(not really! rrr). I need to see people. Everyone's so busy; either that or we're all too lazy to call each other. Summer no longer means long, adrenaline-rushed, sunburned days at the pool, cascaded with the smell of sunscreen and lycra. It means more time to work, more oppurtunities to sweat out of pores you didn't know you had, and more ways to mess up your sleeping pattern - if it ever even got a chance to be repaired from the maelstrom of school.

Nah. I'm being too negative. Bad attitude!

Sci-Fi to SyFy?

made. of. stupid.

---

Song of the Day:

Little Bird - Jazzanova

---

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Secrets, Memories, and Privacy

2009-07-07T09:53:00.000-07:00

Image by rahid1 via Flickr

Been reading Postsecret. It's interesting for its utter exposure, and the realization we all go through the same stuff; the same craziness. It's so personal yet so amazingly anonymous.

A couple years ago, I read Postsecret and then wrote a bunch of secrets on a stack of index cards. I still have them, in the same drawer they've been in for years. Some part of me hates admitting that I have secrets, because I want to be so genuine, but that's the way of the world, I guess. We live very compartmentalized lives, forged in unwritten social guidelines, born in fear, et cetera. We have to keep ourselves safe from each other. The more you know a person is comparable to the more stuff you know about them, including all the little glitches in their character.

I like to think about married couples- especially the ones who keep things, secrets, from each other- who cheat, don't talk, alienate each other. It makes me think about my own parents and the relationship they had. They were each pretty simple people, relatively. At least, they were most recently simple; when I was way younger things were a little more complicated. Oh, was it a trip. I would write what happened here, but I am choosing to exercise my social right to privacy, to protect the interests of my parents. But I've given you a tantalizing clue, through diction and a vague reference.

Yea. Anyway. I have to go to work.

Oh me! Having the computer in my room is causing me to spend wayyyy too much time on the internet. I'll get over it.

THAT is the ultimate sin, changing who you are, or being ashamed of yourself,
based on someone else’s view - Ooompahpah, Postsecret

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Sleep.

2009-07-07T00:34:00.000-07:00

Image via Wikipedia

Hey, look, it's a random picture of a human brain!

I wish it didn't exist. I wish we didn't have to sleep.

It's nearly 3 '0'clock in the morning and I have just been browsing the 'net for the past, uh, 5 hours... reading, posting, talking, watching videos.

I don't do this everyday, and God knows I have a life. But it's summer; I have a week and half left before I have homework to do, I sort of have a right to let my brain be mushy.

This has been an incredibly short summer. I have 2 classes in a week, and once they're over, I start the fall semester a week later.

Wanna know a secret? No, I won't tell you, invisible and non-existant audience, because I want to indulge in keeping a tantalizing secret from nobody.

Nobody, hm. I have a lot of invisible audiences in my life. A lot of nobody. A lot of wishing.

Wishing I didn't need to sleep, wishing I had an audience, wishing I were more focused, wishing I had something legitimately unique to write about.

Unique. What a word, what a word.

Let's get on the ball, you and me, invisible people. Let's convince ourselves one more time of an infallible dream.

A very painfully wonderful wiki article: How to Dissuade Yourself from Becoming a Blogger

Oh, *sigh*, what utter, heartless truth. It is too true, too honest. It's reality, and I damn well know it! Oh well, whatever.

whatevs

look to the stars,
-liz

United for Neda

2009-07-06T14:35:00.000-07:00

http://www.theworld.org/global-hit/united-for-neda

This is song dedicated to the death of Neda, who died during protests in Iran. It is a song about freedom and standing up for what is right.

What is right is that it is an injustice for one person to control another, by whatever means. The only authority is volunteered authority, the kind we create because every group needs a leader. But when a leader goes beyond being a figurehead and a representation of the ideas & needs of the group and becomes a dominator, a dictator, a manipulator, that is when it is time for the people to reject that leader and proclaim freedom from whatever oppression has been forced upon them.

People inherently have a choice. Sometimes I think this is why God put that tree in the garden of Eden- to create the oppurtunity of choice. So it is therefore even in our nature to be able to choose, to think for ourselves. Everything from rape to dictatorship is an injust, backward, and selfish theft of natural rights.

We've got to keep a look out for these things, we've got to keep our heads above the haze of living everyday life. I commend the people of Iran for standing boldly for their freedom, for not taking it anymore, for exposing the corruption of a wrathful and selfish institution.

Stand united, people of Iran, and make your country yours again.

We can take a lesson, U.S.

"The positive evils of representative government can be reduced to two: general ignorance and incapacity, and the danger of its being under the influence of interests not identical with the general welfare of the community." - John Stuart Mill

---

Song of the Day:

United for Neda

---

On that webpage, there is a comment down at the bottom that I think is very interesting and garners some hard thinking;

More power to people like “Mr Taylor,” but there is a certain, very troubling
moral hypocrisy. The world has watched and continues to watch the post-election
turmoil in Iran and now even have their first martyr. I don’t know how many have
been killed thus far, but compare the the meager coverage of the 60 plus
protestors killed in Bagua province, Peru on June 5th. Of course, the
geopolitics and socio-cultural aspects of what is at stake in Iran garners most,
if not all the attention. Afterall, amazonian Indians are not as photogenic as
Neda, nor do we have wealthy Peruvian indians living abroad as is the case with
very wealthy Irianian exiles and expatriates.
Posted by John Molina July 2,
2009, 5:09 pm

I think this is a very adequate statement to make. A lot of what goes on in the world, sometimes even more bloddy and opressive than the situation in Iran, goes largely unnoticed. It recalls the ignorance of the Holocaust while it was happening, when the general public and even many german citizens did not realize what was going on. On the other hand, I'm reminded very gladly of the growing awareness of things like Human Trafficking. When more people in the world know about something and are convinced of something, the bigger the chance that those people will be motivated to do something about it. They'll give their support, band together to stop it, make it a public problem instead of a private or a local one. This is the way things work.

The thing is, even when people are aware of something, it doesn't necessarily mean anything will be done. I can say this from a personal perspective because I have no idea what to do. It's too easy to slip back into your own personal life, to be consumed with just the things around you. But when suddenly it'sat your frontdoor then you become passionate about it. This is also how things work. Weonly have enought energy to be involved in what can result in more comfort or peace of mind within the vicinity of our daily existance. This isn't a shameful thing, it's natural.

Sometimes, being aware is enough. Sometimes talking about it is enough, because somebody will hear it, become passionate, and they'll start to get it done.

But what about the sometimes when knowing & talking aren't enough, when you or I have to be taht somebody who'll get it done? How do we know when it's our turn to take the gunshot, to raise the funds, to go there and see, to sweat it out?

Is it ever, or is it always? I dunno, I think we all have our part. Unfortunately, when it comes to less-covered events such as the massacre in Peru, it really does come down to the interests of our media in that country. our politics are not affected by Peru, but they are effected by what happens in Iran. We can't do everything, that's why we all have our part.

Conclusion? Know, be aware, take your position- find out what you can do, find out how you can help, anywhere from your neighborhood to international missions, get connected.

I'm mostly talking to myself here, telling me, Liz, to get on it. Neda did it. I'll see what the world needs from me.

and, egads, I'm growing. Changing perspectives. I want to be more passionate, more compassionate, selfless, motivated, aware. I get angry at assholes who do things that hurt others, selfish bastards. But I not nearly loving enough. Not nearly passionate enough. Not nearly loud enough.

Maybe I'm just being romantic again, but damn, I can't lose this. I've been blessed and loved too much not to multiply it a thousand times and give what I've gotten away. The world's a big, convulated place, and we can do it one person at a time. It starts with us.

As Zachary Quinto said, "You can go into each issue that presents itself in front of us; enviromentally, politically, whatever, and there's no right answer, there's no answer that's ever gonna [change the world] - so I feel like the only answer is that people need to start looking at how they can change themselves, and the impact that has collectively on the rest of what's out there will start to be felt a little bit more."

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

I am officially in love with Zachary Quinto.

2009-07-06T13:09:00.000-07:00

Why does he have to be 14 years older than me?? This is one of those times when I just want to punch the universe in the face.

In the extremely rare event that you read this, Mr. Quinto, I apologize for the star-struckness. It's just too easy. (Your last name is AWESOME)

Merrillwood - Zachary Quinto

Watch This Episode on http://www.thestream.tv/watch.php?v=170

look to the (*sigh*) stars,
-ununseptium

Thoughts on Those People Everyone Knows: Icons of Modern Society

2009-07-04T22:03:00.000-07:00

So you have these big fantastic ambitions, but they all involve knowing certain people. What do you do about this? Leave glass slippers?

Celebrity. What an idea. What a notion, wanting to know the VIP personally. We make movies about falling in love with famous people, make shrines to their existance. The public eye.

I've been reading some frilly girl magazines, like Vanity Fair and Cosmo and whatever, lately, and of course I'm always acutely aware of my own star-struck fantasies.

And, bah, I suppose my roommate wants her laptop back now.

---

Song of the Day:

complete silence.

---

look the stars(the real ones, made of gas and energy),
-ununseptium

Possible Fall Schedule

2009-07-01T14:51:00.000-07:00

Trying to sort out my life real quickly. And, dang, I've turned this back into a personal blog about 3 posts in. I want to write about stuff, create articles. Star my freaking non-existant freelancing career. When they say writing takes alot of time and effort, they mean it. I just have to stay focused.

But I've got to lay this out before I go crazy. I think before I focused on the earth's musings, I need to focus on knowing what I want and knowing what to get in order. I think everyone needs to sometimes take a little time to figure out exactly what it is they're doing; take a quick temperature, you know, check out what's up with where you're going.

Oh dreams, you silly things.

to begin:

Between now and Aug 24th, I will be taking 2 classes(Algebra and Speech) and working 2 jobs. I'll also probably get 2 new rommates(things always come in groups, don't they? My senior year it was 4 AP classes, 4 clubs, 4 different homes...). But that's not important. Focus on the 2 classes and 2 jobs (3 if you count writing >.>).

-Algebra: 8am-10am; Mon, Tues, Wed, Thurs
-Speech: 10:10am-12:10pm; Mon, Tues, Wed, Thurs

Thoughts: Work Performance on Saturday, Old Navy on Sunday so I can go from church there.

What my week could look like Starting July 13:

Sunday: 9am-10:30am Nursery; 11am-1pm Church; 2pm-close Old Navy
Monday: 8am-10am Algebra; 10:10am-12:10am Speech; 2pm-close Performance
Tuesday: 8am-10am Algebra; 10:10am-12:10am Speech; 2pm-close Performance
Wednesday: 8am-10am Algebra; 10:10am-12:10am Speech; 2pm-6pm Old Navy; 7pm-10pm Church
Thursday: 8am-10am Algebra; 10:10am-12:10am Speech; 2pm-close Performance
Friday: ????? Performance, or day off with time for errands????
Saturday: Performance all day

dang. Somewhere in there I have to fit in sleep, friends, and, dun dun dun... HOMEWORK! Eating is easy; I'll just have to invest in healthy snacks, make sure to have lots of fruits and protein for breakfast, you know.

That's all over come Aug 13. Then I'll have a week and a half before the fall semester starts. I'll need to think of the best way to use that time. Reading and hanging out with friends comes to mind first.

So, for Aug 24 and beyond, AKA The Fall Semester of My Freshman Year of College

This might be what my week could look like:

Sunday: 9am-10:30am Nursery; 11am-1pm Church; 2pm-close Old Navy; Homework
Monday: 9am-9:50am Algebra; Performance all day; Homework
Tuesday(AKA sUpER INSANE SchoOl DaY): 10am-12:30pm Spanish; 1pm-2:15pm Humanities; 2:30pm-5pm Homework; 7pm-9:45pm Art Appreciation
Wednesday: 9am-9:50am Algebra; 10am-12pm Homework; 2pm-6pm Old Navy; 7pm-10pm Church
Thursday: 10am-12:30pm Spanish; 1pm-2:15pm Humanities; 3pm-8pm Performance; 8pm-10pm Homework
Friday: 9am-9:50am Algebra; 11am-5pm Performance; freee?
Saturday: split it up between Performance and Old Navy

Oh yea: sleep, friends, Jesus, fun, homework, errands, cleaning, etc.

The absolute cRaaaziest part? IT COULD ALL CHANGE!!!

I plan on joining a couple clubs, doing some volunteer work, and, of course writing. Writing something. Maybe I'll write about my cRazy life that's been cRazy since August 2008, and to some degree even before then.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

nah. I'm not that freaked out about it.

My laundry has been sitting all alone and probably damp in the public Dryer for the past twenty minutes. I should probably go get it.

---

Song of the Day:

Super Mario Theme Song - teh intuhnetz

---

look the stars (but don't trip over yourself),
-ununseptium

Modes of Life

2009-06-29T15:13:00.001-07:00

I've realized alot recently how many people I know, and also how many different people I know. There are pfreidns from church, friends from school, co-workers, friends from my old high school and middle school, friends at my friend's churches, friends I haven't talked to in years, friend's families, my roommates, various people I see or have seen often, like librarians, every teacher I've had, my relatives and their friends, and people on the internet. I mapped out a road trip across the United States according to the places where I know people or could visit people, and I realized I can make a full circle: stop by Georgia and then go up the east coast to Massachusetts and New York, go over to Minnesota and South Dakota, swing down to Colorado, go west to California, go down to Arizona, and then stop by Lubbock on the way back.

If I included people I known on the internet for years, I could include New Jersey, parts of Canada, Kansas, more of California, New Mexico, Austin... and that's just in the US.

Throw in a couple of sight-seeing trips like Niagra Falls, LA, Mount Rushmore, San Diego, San Francisco, Manhattan, Chicago, the Grand Canyon, and what-have-you, and I could road trip across the US and always have a great destination.

Actually, I plan on doing that. In summer 2011, between community college and university, I plan to take a road trip across the US. If I did it in 2012 I would be 21 and I could totally hang out at bars in Portland(which I hear has awesome bars). No getting drunk, of course, just have a dacquerie and meeting cool people.

While i'm thinking about travel, I also want to think about the Study Abroad I plan on doing it, along with the Mission Trips.

I want to study abroad in Germany and South Africa, and maybe even France if I learn french soon. Who says I have to choose just one? Eh, it's probably not practical- it's sooo much money. But I can set goals, right?

It'd be awesome if I could go to Germany sometime next year, do South Africa my junior year, and France my senior year.

Then i could do the Peace Corps for two years and come back and get my masters.

Yea, something along those lines. Once I start figuring out my major, it might change a litt.e

The point I have to make to myself? STOPBUYING STARBUCKS! In other words, save all your damn money.

No wasting it on coffee, snacks, library fines, ATM fees, random cheap crap, clothes, or anything like that- i can live the typical middle-class college student life or I can bust my butt and achieve my dreams.

part of me just wants that Java Chip Frapuccino with double expresso, but the other part of me is quietly brooding and dying more and more with every month that passes. I can't and won't be happy with a half-assed volunteer project here and there, or a mild prayer once in a while, or Starbucks coffee every week instead of homebrewed coffee in the kitchen of a host family in Germany.

Gads, I keep telling myself these big huge things, trying to motivate myself- but I always fall into normalcy, always fall to tired repeats and languid drugdery, trying desperately to finish a schedule, procrastinating, blah blah blah.

4 years of this and what have I got? an inch. I've gotten an inch closer, by moving out, by just going to college, by getting a second job. While I need to remember my dreams and goals, I also need to remember my accomplishments- I tend to forget. I forget. but then in remembering I sometimes think I'm OK, and in taking two steps forward I take one measly step back.

So what's with modes of life? All this hubbub about being more than you are, all of us looking around seeing what's up with the world, figuring out things and forgetting them and being gloriously entertained and likewise disturbed by it all. the rich and the poor, we all go forward in time, we all move or limbs and breathe and our bodies circulate blood, we fall asleep at the soft urging of hormones and wake to the blare of light and sound, we learn things everyday about this or that, we struggle to make conversation with strangers and say hello to people every day, we walk places, run places, drag ourselves to places- driving, feeling, whispering our to-do lists to ourselves, or not having them at all. Sweating horrendously in the summer and freezing inescapably in the winter, looking at each other, lusting and falling in love, wishing, wonderinf with jealousy what they're up to, who they are, why they're worthy of our attention, how they got where we can't seem to go.

We share our experiences with each other, we laugh and we sing and we do things together.

This draws me back to my thoughts about people. yesterday I went with an old friend to feed the homeless. We made paltry bologna & cheese sandwiches, no mayo, and we handed out granola bars that had scriptures taped to them. We gave out cups of cold water, relief from the 90 degree weather.

I was responsible for the granola bars, and as I handed them out to the people who had lined up, i watched the homeless- I studied their stained clothing, their stained teeth, their stained everything. I thought of my dad, who is in a homeless shelter, and I watched their squinted eyes closesly. The sun was bright, and shined in their eyes- sometimes blank, sometimes malicious, many time hungry. I watched for the sadness I expected, I wondered about their stories. How had they come to this street in downtown Dallas, in 90-degree Texas? Were some of them born at Baylor, where I was, or had some of them trekked from other cities, states, following family or jobs or unrequited romance?

They were all tired. Every homeless person, if they were indeed homeless, or maybe just foodless, ocasionally shameless, was there because they had been there before. This was their life.

I don't fully understand it- I know the heat, I know the walking about tired, hungry, I know just a glimpse of the langour of being at the bottom. I don't understand it, though. I don't understand it.

We preached to them about Jesus, with a microphone connected to a speaker, and a few listen. A few took our free bibles. A couple hung around and talked.

One man, who was slumped over, had a shaggy beard, could hardly talk right, asked for my hairband. I had it on my wrist because my hair was down. I had found it yesterday and it was my best hairband since it hadn't stretched out yet.

He pointed at it, mumbled. He stared at it, though I couldn't see his eyes under his wrinkled brow. I thought perhaps he'd use it to tie his stuff together, or make something.

But you know what he did when I gave it to him? He put it on his wrist, the way I had it on, and walked away. Maybe today he tying something together, and maybe I'm seeing the situation through glasses tinted by years of idealized stories and paradigms about crazy innocence; no, not innocence- utter bottomness. The regaining of a sort of sordid re-innoncence, made of pure existance. The giving up of longing for love in favor of the collection of avenues that provide the short satisfaction of a bologna sandwich, made by a girl with a homeless father and a boy with an alcoholic mother, doing it all in the name of Jesus.

I don't understand it, I don't. I don't understand the missing teeth, the glazed eyes, the rude gesture of a slumping man waitinf for a hand-out.

My compassion for the homeless in America is confused. I want them to be loved, but I don't understand how they got there. What is our government doing wrong? What are their families doing wrong? What are they doing wrong?

What's wrong?

I don't know, and I don't understand.

--but I'm going back, to help the homeless ministry. I'm going back to give poor people granola bars, to give crackheads water, to smile at people much older than me, who some how ended up on this street.

and then after I'm done, I'll play chess, I'll dream of road trips and study abroad, i'll laugh with my clean-shaven friends, and I'll wonder about the modes of life, and the people i know, and i things i do, and the person I am.

and then I'll figure out a way to use something besides parallel structure to improve my writings.

aaaand the circles of thought goes again. I'll stop before I have a brain catastrophe.

hm.

---

Song of the Day:

The Way I Are - Timbaland

---

look the the stars,
-ununseptium

Twitterish Thoughts

2009-06-24T09:08:00.000-07:00

Still can't get in contact with my dad. I just might eat his cheesecake.

I want the computer, that's all. I know he'll be alright, he's taken care of, I just want the computer because I know it's not being used and I could finally get ahead on freelancing if I had it. Plus, I could regain access to my itunes and all the art I have saved. Honestly. I feel like a manipulative materialistic hag, just wanting the computer, but it's true.

--

Yesterday at Barnes & Noble, while I was wasting some extra time before the prayer meeting at my church, I started reading a book by this famous CEO guy titled "Never Eat Lunch Alone" or something. It was about networking- not the sleezy kind where you collect people who'll do stuff for you, but the kind where you make meaningful relationships that are mututally beneficial. I reflected on my "network" situation, and I realized that I know & love a lot of people who continually help me, do favors for me-- but I want to do more for them. I feel so selfish all the time, and I want to make the extra effort to make them happy.

Wanting is not enough, though. Doing is the key. I need to think of realistic ways to make the people around me happy, to make them feel appreciated a loved.

First thing I can think of that involves me being myself is to draw them pictures and write them notes.

The second is to offer to clean their cars & houses for free, and to pay for gas. Also to buy them lunch whenever I can afford it. To create little gifts, sweet-nothings. Just to say "You are an amazing person, never doubt that" to my friends, though more personalized. It's too easy to manufacture encouragement. It's too easy to regurgitate a Hallmark card.

I have insight into their lives, their personalities. The third thing I can think of doing? get to know each of them better. Get to know everyone better. That's what I put down that book convinced of- that all these people around me are legitimate folks that want to be known, that want someone to want to get to know them better. People like to be asked questions, to have a willing audience. And it's not just to people-please, but because I am an actually interested in the people around me, i'm just afraid to get too personal. What so horrible about getting past personal walls? What's so private about all our lives that we can't share our memories, our thoughts, ourselves?

So- my newest goal is become more OPEN and VULNERABLE with everyone around me, and to be more WILLING to get to KNOW people. Not just polite conversation or willy-nilly comments about this movie or that, but legitimate, meaningful conversations.

I mean, not all the time- no one wants to go around being the deep serious philosophizer all the time. But the point is to simply communicate with people, to go with the flow of interactions without having to hide or retract or retreat.

People are people, I shouldn't be afraid to be exposed, to be humbled, to experience another person more closely. I hold everyone at arm's length because I'm afraid. But I love my firneds so much, why can't I just talk?

Starkly personal and personable, breaking, destroying, and expanding comfort zones- becoming less the compartmentalized social balancer and more the full-fledged individual deeply involved in the affairs of others- not in the gossipy way, but in the friendly, I'll-help-you, listening and sharing way. It's life, folks.

It's life, Liz. It's people.

---

Song of the Day:

Here I Am - Spirit, Stallion of the Cimarron

---

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

New and Festering Situations, With Some Disney-esque Philosophy

2009-06-22T17:18:00.000-07:00

WARNING: THIS POST IS DROWNING IN HORRIBLE, AGONIZING TYPOS.
and I just don't feel like fixing them all right now.

How would you feel about a job in a small, interesting shop with flexible hours at $8 an hour? How about the nice co-workers, the mature shoppers and the awesome discount?

Sound like a great summer job, right?

Would you still take it if you knew you'd feel like a complete idiot for 5 straight hours everyday, with marginal hope of recorvering your intellectual dignity?

That's how I feel currently in my new job at a bike shop. It seems pretty simple- it's bikes. You have road bikes, comfort bikes, mountain bikes, hybrid bikes, kids bikes. There are some parts and tools to keep track of, and a nice little clothes section.

It seems so learnable, until you get into the fact that there are ten different kinds of chamois and ten different kinds of fabric to match, not to mention the fact that there not only are there parts that go to bikes but parts that go to shoes. And the difference bewteen the bikes is pretty general- until you get into suspension, hydraulics, spoke variations, gear and brake mechanisms, gear hubs, chains, intertubes, and on and on with words i can hardly remember, let alone define. Twenty times a day a customer will ask me something I have never heard of. Or they'll come in looking for a bike and tell me what they're looking for, and have no idea how to pick it up. What the hell do I care about speeds and frame geometry? ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.

That's not true. I'm hyperbolizing. I'm exaggerating- actually, i'm kinda excited that i remember enough to rant about it. I guess I just need to organize all the gads of information that has been squished into my brain in the last 4 days- all the new procedures, the register system that is completely convulated, the thousands of variations in bike mechanics... It's crazy.

When i'm on the clock, working, wearing my apron, I can just feel the stress hormones flooding my body. All the fight or flight response alarms go off in my head, and I'm tempted constantly to hightail it outta there and never look back. But only slightly, and only for a few seconds. It's only for a minute that i think about quitting, and then my indelible pride kicks in. Then I think, "I can't quit-" not just because it's $8 an hour that I absolutely need, but because I don't want to walk out a failure because i gave up- because it was hard. Everything is hard. Everything is hard. Why would i give up because I didn't know this or that? I'm 18, it's not like I stopped learning just because high school is over. This is something completely new i'm learning, something i would have never gotten into if I didn't need a job. It's interesting. I'm all up for exploring a new arena of life- of something, namely bikes, that people have taken the time to perfect, the dedication to improve... the ambition to, hell, start a bicycle buisness.

The register are freakishly different from Old Navy (my other job, which I've worked at for two years), there are procedures and jargon I'll have to get used, and there's a different sort of professionalism. It's not a manufactured, memorized customer service; it's more personal. It's related to something that people are instrinsicley interested in. People spend thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours on these bikes and these biking sports, training, riding for hours, eating nasty vitamin jelly, wearing embarassing shorts... the least I can do is help them find what they need. That's what I'm there for, that's why I got hired.

So i'll do it, I'll learn. I'll memorizing. I'll pay attention. One day I'll go in there and feel fine, i won't feel like i'm swimming alone in the ocean, with cold water underneath instead of warm sand. I won't go blank when a customer asks for a gear cassette or a certain brand of spacers. I'll not only tell them where it is, but also a way they can improve their bike performance, or a way to fix that little twitch. It'll happen- I felt the same way at Old Navy sometimes, like I had no authority to tell someone whether that shirt matched those pants, or the best way to wear an empire waist tank. There was once when I wanted to kill myself at the register, because old Navy's system seemed as complicated once as the bike shop's does now. But I learned, i got used to it. I can manipulate things, do this, do that- I'm experienced.

Experience. What a thing. hm. wow. I wonder where i'll be in ten years? Where i'll be working? What I'll be learning, what i'll be stressed about?

Yesterday was father's day, and I went to Wal-Mart to buy cake mix. I saw the Bakery on the way in and bought a little 5-inch cheesecake instead and got the Bakery lady to write "Happy Father's Day - I Love You!" on it.

One of my co-workers from the bike shop, a tall guy with grey hair who knows everything about bikes, drove me to Wal-Mart, and then he was nice enough to drive me to my dad's Hotel. All these places were in 3 minutes of each other by car anyway. He'd been living there since he got evicted, the same time I moved out into my own apartment.

I went up to the door and knocked, no answer. I noticed the window curtains were open, which he never does, and peaked inside- it' was empty. The bed was made, the table was cleared, and there was a little laminated Welcome card on the bed. For a second i didn't know what to think, but i had suspected it. It was a little like that depressing scene in Pinnochio where Pinnochio finally reaches home, and he looks in the window of his lovely little cottage house- and it's empty, the fish dinner cold and uneaten on the darken table. Absolute emptiness, a bit of desolation.

I suspected he wouldn't be there, it could only be so long that my gramma would pay for him to stay there. He'd gone somewhere, but I couldn't think of where.

I called my gramma, she said he'd gone to a homeless/unemployment shelter a couple of cities away, called the Samaritan Inn- adequate name, y'think?

My co-worker drove me back to my apartment. He was extremely nive driving me around like that. I was somewhat perplexed and of relieved, and just little bit frustrated. Part of me wanted to him to be homeless, to hit rock solid bottom- but part of me was happy that he was taken care of. I didn't know what to do with cheesecake, so it's still in my refrigerator. i tried calling the place and they couldn't find him at the moment... maybe i'll call right now.

Hmm. There's pretty bad reception in this library.

I talked to my mom today, and it was a rather interesting chat. Not interesting in what we talked about, but in the fact that I actually talked a little bit more that I usually do. Her life is pretty boring, and mine is pretty straight forward. Yet, i had a lot I could have told her. I had a couple stories, a few interactions i could have mentioned. I could write a book about this last year, all the way up till today. I coudl have talked for an hour- but i didn't, i didn't want to. I'm not ready to present myself as a deep human being to my parents. I try to be as flat and uninteresting as possible to them. i don't tell them my deepest darkest secrets or wishes, or even the crazy goals i tell my friends. To them, I'll talk about anything that isn't personal. Politics, religion, Tv shows, yes. Me? no. No way. Not till i'm married, or something.

I do that alot, actually. There's no one on earth that knows every bit of me. There's sections of information that I keep from different people. I'll someone one thing that I would never tell to another someone, and vice versa. Bit I guess, or I've learned to assume, that everything does that. everyone compartmentalizes just a little bit. Everybody hides parts of themselves from parts of the world. Everybody has a couple of different faces and confident levels that they show to certain people and not others. Every one has a mean side and nice side and funny and serious side and a sarcastic and vengeful and compassionate side. We're all like that. Show me an unequivocally honest person who'll be all that they are at once to everyone and i'll show you the rest of humanity.

So, yea. My roommate and I are going to watcha TV show called the 4400 together later, and I don't want to go on forever. No one will read this. That's OK.

You're reading it, though, obviously. Are you Wil Wheaton, or are you the future love of my life? Or my best friend? or mrs. Julie? If you're Mrs. Julie, I'm sorry. I always say that I write better than i speak- I guess i also write more than i speak. If you're someone who knows her, don't go telling her that I've written her name on the internet.

Gah, and if you're a stalker, have at it. I have enough clues everywhere to pinpoint the exact spot I'm at right now. But be ware, I have a whole army of people who'll beat the crap outof you.

Blah. Destroying social mores is the best part about relative anonmity. I guess.

I could run in circles all, and make a square.

In the shape of a circle, of course.

I'm just rambling now.

Goodbye. Wait, there are no goodbyes. We all live on the same planet.

---

Song of the Day:

Soniclove - The Orange

---

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Q & A: The Rue of a College Student's Life

2009-06-16T14:43:00.000-07:00

I got asked today again what I want to do when I grow up. What career I want. What I would be happiest waking up in the morning to.

I hate that question.

I have no idea. I have no effing clue.

No, that's a lie. I have a clue. I know I like writing, drawing, learning, organizing, thinking, creating, imaginioning, helping, history, science, reading, computers, internet, music, books, people, traveling, discovering...

I like nearly everything. I could even like the medical field, if I had to. I took a lifeguarding course and passed and I thought the Bloodborne Pathogens part was pretty damn interesting. In high school I liked biology, and I liked art. I liked chemistry, and I liked english. I liked Climatology in Academic Decathlon, and I liked the poetry part too. I liked math, and I liked multimedia(photoshop, flash, adobe premiere). I love filmmaking, and NASA, and medieval history, and people.

I know what I don't like. I don't like accounting(but I could, if I got into it), I don't like...uh, witchcraft. I don't surgery. I didn't like, in Lifeguard training, the idea of being responsible for a life when someone's heart has stopped beating(but It'd be really awesome to save someone). I know i don't want to work retail the rest of my life, nor do I want to be stuck in an office endlessly and battle corporate wolves and sell my soul in order to get a promotion. i don't want to be a stock broker, and I don't want to work as a gravedigger. I don't want to own hotel(but it sure world be fun).

Everytime, basically, I think of something i don't want to do, i think of a reason why it might be fun. I'm so passionate and so interested in so many things that I cannot decide my fate, and i literally stop breathing and my physiological stress inducers start churning and I literally cannot physically decide what I want to do. I just have to take things as they come, end up wherever I end up. I want and need to do something that involves people and that involves international and national connections.

I know it, i know it, and I have to admit it. I want to be famous. I mean, jeez, everyone wants to be famous. I don't want to be a super hollywood star, though, (although it'd be fun), I want to be famous for doing something super important, for being likeable, for just knowing the right people. I want to know everyone. I'm not afraid of death; I'm afraid of dying in obscurity. I want people to know it when I die. I want to have a positive impact on the earth. I want..hell, I want to have a million followers on twitter. I want to make something. I want to run something. I want to take incredible risks, overcome myself more and more, be person I'm meant to beand dream of being.

I live on this earth and i'm allowed to be happy, but I don't just want to be happy. I want to be fumingly, passionately, unequivocally fullfilled every moment of the day. That's my American Dream.

I'm joining the peace corps asap, I'm doing study abroad in germany and south africa, i'm writing a novel, I'm writing a blog that gets read, I'm getting a masters, I'm positively impacting a child's life. I'm doing it all.

I got this one life to live.

I'm gonna live it, damnit. Even when I forget to, I'm going to. Even when I forget.

Gah, maybe my problem is I'm too romantic. I'm too open. I'm too varied, wishy-washy, indecisive. Hell- I'm a selfish young dreamer, fundementally flawed. The big things and the small things, the details and the gists- got it all at my fingertips.

Tomorrow is another day.

---

Song of the Day:

Live Your Life - Rihanna

---

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Freelancing

2009-06-12T14:19:00.000-07:00

Why I want to do this:
extra money on the side
do something important and interesting
like to write

Goals:
get 1-3 articles a week published, atleast during the summer, less during school
be widely recognized
have a successful blog
build resume
imrove writing and presentation skills
find creative and original things to write about
share experiences
get noticed by Wil Wheaton :-P

What I can write about, possibly:
high school experience
college experience
history
learning a language
financial experiences
christianity
religion
part time work
technical
advertising
interview various people
star trek
anything beyond and including that can be made possible through lots of research and more experience

for my records.

Public To-Do List

2009-06-11T18:06:00.000-07:00

This is one post I'm going to go back to continually, and make sure to check-off efficiently.
It's public and internet for easy access, and imagined accountability(I say imagined because nobody reads my blog. That's ok.)

Once it grows, I'll organize it and stuff.

-Build up an excellent resume in order to write for Suite101, about.com, and this other website I can't remember

2009-06-11T16:21:00.000-07:00

I'm in the middle of the library at my college, being all college-y and stuff with a little laptop and an ipod, in a jeans and t-shirt with a big graphic star on it. My little octagonal glasses are on, and my flip flops are falling off because I have my feet up in a chair. And I'm blogging. It may be very uninteresting blog, but hey, I am totally doing what I love being. I'm a college student. One day I'll be a doctor or a lawyer(no, I'll be a teacher in the Peace Corps or an Aerospace Engineer with a night job doing graphic design, or something. Or an interpreter, or a United States Ambassador), but for now, I'm a Student.

You see that? I'm a dreamer, dreaming. I'm a doer, doing. I'm a person, peopleing. heh, not really. Just wanted to break up my cliche.

Wait, actually, technically, that kinda makes sense.

Tomorrow I have the second half of the Hendrick Scholarship conference to go to. Today they elaborated and adamently stressed how different college is from high school, and commended us for overcoming our different adversities. They kept handing us paper after paper and brochures full of extremely useful information, and gave us strategies for time management. They also introduced us to some various important people and gave us an awesomely delicious lunch.

I'm one lucky freaking duck. I was awarded the Hendricks Scholarship for "overcoming adversity," which in my case means being homeless(basically) for two months and then taking care of my diabetic, fragile mom while my dad was driving across the country on a rig, which ended up being a waste of time and only paid half the bills. And then get the car repossesed, so on and so forth. I survived and got a bit thicker skin and realized how awesome my friends and God are.

The scholarship awarded me $750 a semester until I get a bachelors degree. I'm going to a community college(that, btw, is one of the best in the nation)... you know what that means? My entire tuition is paid for, at least for the first two years(I plan on transferring after that, but they said the Hendrick Foundation tried to help students who transfer out of community college and continue the scholarship as far as possible).

I also just moved into my own apartment, $390 a month, which includes electricity, water, internet, and random food in the mail. I also have 3 roommates, and they are officially the first new people I've met in college. One is from england, one is super interesting and eats organic food, and the other is a chemistry major and is awkward because she likes to randomly stare, but she's good at making me feel interesting :-P

I can check out a free laptop from the college library any time I want for four hours(which is what I'm doing now).

I can walk from my apartment to the college in exactly one minute, and it's open like all the time so I can easily ask questions or check out stuff from the library...

and, somebody didn't want their brand new bike and gave it to me, and I'm on a bus route- so I have access to eco-friendly transportation!

I also finally got a new cell phone(haven't had one in 5 months) for $50 a month. It's kind of a stretch considering there are cheaper plans, but I'm happy with it until it becomes a problem, which it will hopefully not.

The only downside of all this awesomeness is that I only have a part time job with inconsistant or few hours, depending on the season or even the week. I only make on average about $400 a month with this job, and I figured that with rent, food, phone, orthodontist, and unexpected expenses I'll need atleast $600 a month to live comfortably, thanks to the Hendrick scholarship paying for my super-cheap tuition. Ideally, I want $700 or $800 so I can save up for a car and pay for a car & insurance once I get one. $900 would be even better so I could save up for a road trip I plan to take and, eventually, pay for a study abroad program.

It's possible that with a full time job at $8 an hour, I could make apprx $1000 a month. That would be so. freaking. awesome. 'cause you know what I could do then? I could set aside a few hundred dollars during the summer so I could work less during the school year, so I could therefore have more time for homework(and good blogging, of course).

ALTHOUGH, if I actually get a good grant from FAFSA, I wouldn't really have to worry about the school year as much.

I so freaking need a full time job. $8 0r $9 and I'll take it, and I can try to manage freelance writing on the side (couple of hours or research one day, write the article the next day- could churn out atleast 1 or 2 articles a week, avg $25 each... get $100 or so extra dollars a month. awesome.)

So, wow. Life.

Now all I need is a boyfriend and I'll be an ideally well-set American. :-P

Here it goes!

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Song of the Day:

Headstrong - Trapt

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look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Quiz Result

2009-05-30T11:21:00.001-07:00

I just wanted to post this somewhere, because I'm always astonished at quiz results that describe you nearly exactly.

The quiz was "What is your secret nationality?" or something like that (I don't have the page up).

My result: Swedish

You are friendly, gentle, and modest, with a good heart and a lusty nature. You laugh easily, have a well-developed sense of irony, and tend to understand people intuitively. You are interested in new people, but will always maintain notions of insider vs. outsider, and this will lead you to commit to a group of friends and lovers who will be with you your entire life. If you have a weakness it's your timidity -- you feel pressure to remain 'lagom' -- on an even par with others. But this is also your strength.

Yup. That is exactly me.

weird.

Anyway. I just moved out of my house; some of my stuff is still at home and I have to go and get it, and for now I am staying at a friend's house until my apartment is ready. So I guess I'm not officially moved out- not officially on my own. But I'm this close. This close.

For years I have wanted to escape the umbrella and the influence of my parents. Now I'm 18, I got a little bit of money and a lot of help, and it's happening. Sometimes I feel a little scared and sentimental, but then I quickly realize that my future is today. I'm filled with butterflies and adrenaline every time I remember that hey, I'm growing up. I'm excited when I know that it can only go up from here.

I am so happy I won't hear their voice every day, or have to answer my dad's pretentious questions, or hear my mom's incessant talking about stuff that doesn't matter (like TV). It's not that I hate them, but in the last year I've realized how languid and shallow and uneventful their life is. How much of a lazy hypocrite my dad is, and how utterly dependent and trapped my mom is. I was their one happy anomaly. Hundreds of screaming matches and financial downfalls (like getting evicted from our apartment at the beginning of my senior year, or getting our car repossessed a few months later, or currently neither of them having a job) and interpersonal injustices later, I like them less then I did when I was 5.

Don't get me wrong, they've taught me a lot of valuable lessons- You can't trust everyone, always be kind to strangers, be a little skeptical... and, they raised me christian, which I still willingly adhere to(though some of my more detailed beliefs differ from theirs...like choice in music and bible translation). I will always be thankful for that.

And by their mistakes I've taken so many of my own lessons, and so many of my own faults- pride can destroy you, procrastination will destroy you, the value of independence... never let your dreams escape you. These are things my parents failed at, and these are things I struggle with daily. Sometimes I feel like all of my shortcomings are their fault, but then I have to think about that fact, painfully, that I am ultimately my own responsibility. I am in my own hands and have been for a while- my success or failure is all according to me. Whatever crap I picked up from my parents is now my job to correct. I'll never be perfect and I can't expect anyone else to be perfect, either, but there's a certain nobility in trying.

Basically, when I think about my parents, I am both bitter and thankful at the same time, for so many intricate reasons. Good & bad, however, they've always been around- always offered to help me, always tried to meet my needs, always stayed together. Somehow I turned out OK, you know? I won't say they're my favorite people, but hey, they're my parents. And I'm done with them.

Man, I didn't even talk about the other aspects of moving away, like the fact I'll be rooming with 3 strangers, or that I need a second job to pay my rent, or that the apartment is freaking tiny... but alas, I have a history presentation to translate & present in German, and an art history paper to write. One day I'll find a way to post the Acetate & ink printing I did based off Albrecht Dürer- it has mermaids!

So. Life is exciting.

---

Song of the Day:

Into Action - Skye Sweetnam

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look to the stars,
-ununseptium

It's Just Like Wow

2009-05-28T20:18:00.000-07:00

I walk the stage for graduation in 11 days.

In 11 days, I will put on my cap and gown and have my name called, and that will be the last time I will ever be a part of that great American past time called High School.

In 11 days, I won't be required to attend school, ever again. I will, of course, but I won't have to.

In 11 days, I'll be as adult as adult can be (until I turn 21...then I'm really an adult..).

Bah. I'm de-romanticizing my own points. But whatever. I'm graduating.

I am a senior in highschool. I will be in college next fall. I am moving out of my house tommorrow night. I'm going to get a second job. I'm gonna smoke some hookah. I'm going to...

I'm going.

It's done, it's over, goodbye.

College, hello! What are you? You're not required by law, you're not free. You're elusive, big, and responsibility-inducing.

Bring it on!

---

Song of the Day:

Scream - HSM3

a personal note on this one: I saw HSM3 in theatres last semester (during my senior year), and nearly cried. It just hit the right nerve with me, trying to figure everything out and dealing with massive stress from unintended places. Somehow Disney managed to accidentally churn out a preteen sparkle mess that actually portrayed the real strain of senior year.
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look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Balmy Summer Nights Looking at the Cloudy Sky Showing Occasional Stars

2009-05-19T21:16:00.000-07:00

babies are starving, afghanistan and pakistan are going haywire, the economy is failing, earth is chaotic and ASTRONAUTS ARE FIXING THE HUBBLE SPACE TELESCOPE. People are up there, looking down at us. They see the coastline and the grasslands, but our problems are too small to see. The earth is a detailed place and it makes for a beautiful outing in space. And that rhymes. And I'm one in 6 billion- Look upwards.

---

Never been a fiery, flaming
fiery-passioned love,
never seen the straight-faced glance
of one determined soul.
There is the day the sun awakes,
and all is done and whole,
there is the day we face the sky
and wish for every roll
of dice to make our destinies
impart a sort of everlasting life of legacy and might-
And God, he is, at the edges of the
yonder-ridden universe,
where stars implode in black-holed loads and everyone's explorable-
and then night puts us towards the sky,
which open to the rest,
shows us the galaxy beyond the star
that gave us fiery life.

---

Song of the Day:

4 songs: Honey Bee, Bitter Heart, Kantoi, and Monte - Zee Avi

---

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

In lieu of Star Trek's recent renaissance...

2009-05-15T20:57:00.000-07:00

Here are some of my favorite Star Trek jokes/memes that I've found whilst perusing the internet:

That is all. School is currently eating my life, so I don't got much to say besides SHOOT ME NOW.

---

Song of the Day:

Mykonos - Fleet Foxes

---

look to the stars,

-ununseptium

supplemental:

"It's better to aim for the stars, and miss, than to aim for sh*t, and hit it."

The Perfect Laptop, TV Tropes, and Star Trek

2009-05-13T21:56:00.000-07:00

I'm moving out of my house and I need a computer.

In a perfect world, anything you can imagination could suddenly appear with minimal effort and a magical cloud of puffy glitter.

Keeping with the puffy glitter cloud that will unveal the perfect laptop, here are the requirements I wish someone would create:

1. Under $100
2. 10" or less
3. smooth & shiny, like an ipod
4. fully functioning qwerty keyboard
5. like a billion GB of RAM and space
6. SIMPLE- just microsoft word or Notepad
7. Simple access to files
8. maaaybe have a calendar and alarm system. ...yes, yes, that's good too.
9. instantly upload a document to Blogger (or wordpress, tyepad, whatever your fancy) as a new blog post
10. USB port

That is all. Simple, portable, usable. No frills.

Really, I just want something I can carry around and type on.

And now for something to tickle your interests and waste your time: TV Tropes!
Craziest, most addicting site I've come across in a couple of weeks.

Also, STAR TREK XI IS AMAZING. OMG IF I WASN'T SO TIRED I'D GO ON FOR PAGES AND PAGES ABOUT HOW UTTERLY UNPRECEDENTED AND SHOCKING AND SEXY AND BEAUTFUL AND ADRENALINE-RUSHING THE WHOLE DARN MOVIE WAS!

Amazing, amazing. My Trekkie cravings are satisified, for the time being.

The above is a Green Jobs Icon from Green For All, an organization dedicated to bringing green jobs & equipment to people who can't afford to be green, or to whom being green is low on their priority list because of more pressing immediate matters. I am one of those people; I can't afford a hybrid (well, I can't afford a car, and my bike is broken- I walk everywhere), there are no recycling trucks for my neighborhood or my school, and I always forget to bring my little canvas bags to grocery stores, etc. My family has gotten poorer and poorer over the years, and the only reason I'm going to college is because of a scholarship that'll pay for most of it. For many people, the choice of being more enviromentally conscious is "If I buy this, will I still be able to eat tomorrow?"

Basically, I fully supoort this organization and I think it's amazing that someone finally thought of the real reason why a lot of people can't go green. The idea of creating Green jobs is genius, and will greatly help our economy and the earth.

---

Song of the Day:

Today's song isn't a song, it's an AWESOME album- Wilco

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look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Reconciling Faith & Feminism

2009-05-10T20:01:00.001-07:00

As a person who's read all of the new testament and maybe 1/3 of the old testament, I'd have to say that it's not the easiest thing to reject the notion that the bible is sexist. But as a person living in the 21st century Western world and specifically the USA, I'm very interested in
I just have some questions to throw around, for my own thought processes and for everyone here to discuss...
-Is it possible to interpret the bible literally (as in, morally- scientifically & mythologically are not related to this topic, they're a different issue) and still adhere to feminism, or to be able to say that God/God's intended ideals view women as equal to men?

continued later.

Sorry, nothing interesting until next week

2009-05-05T03:16:00.000-07:00

I have 4 AP tests coming up for which I must heniously study, so any posting I do on this blog will either be short or shallow, since I don't currently have enough time to write any well-researched, in-depth pieces. But alas, that is my plan, to write something interesting and relevant about a new topic as much as possible.

If I have enough time, I'll certaintly make a good post, but until then, Twitter has cut my attention-span in half and I have 3 days to learn German fluently and know everything about the history of Europe.

woo!

---

Song of the Day:

Let's Misbehave

---

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

omg, really??

2009-05-03T14:22:00.000-07:00

ATTENTION EGYPT, YOU ARE STUPID.

that is all.

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look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Feminism, Landscapes, Jesus, and a Poem.

2009-05-02T20:02:00.000-07:00

Here is a basic overview of Feminism and what it is: Spacefem Wiki - Feminism

Perhaps one day I'll make an in-depth post about feminism, but today I do not have the time, or the effort.

I will say, however, that I am continually guffawed and flabbergasted at any person in the world who thinks anything less of a woman for being a woman.

Some people have penises, some people have vaginas. That's just the way it is. Who cares? Do your stuff, live your life, express yourself, and don't worry a lick about what gender you are. It doesn't matter.

Well, generally it doesn't. But that's a whole other post full of details.

-

Wow, I need to go to Vegas someday and check out this cityscape in person. Somehow, I associate Vegas with cigarette smoke and the 80s. Hm.

It's a particularly striking photo from the Human Landscapes from Above montage.

I wonder if all those Nazca lines in Peru were just really fancy sidewalks?

-

For the record: I love Jesus Christ will all my heart, mind, and soul. He is my comfort and my strength, and God has blessed me beyond what I could ever truly ask for and has saved me. He is more than I can ever know. I seek to serve the Lord Jesus Christ and to be filled with the Holy Spirit every day. I don't pray or read the bible enough, I wish I did, because I love him.

yup yup. for the record.

-

A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tigher clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

-EDGAR ALLAN POE

---

Song of the Day:

Durch Den Monsun - Tokio Hotel

---

look to the stars,
-ununseptium

Eka-Astatine, 117

A love poem.

Intention?

I is making poem again about teh future

My Religion

Arrow

I'm happy

When your nights are wide-eyed forays into the avenues of your thoughts

Two roads diverged

what happens when you forget and conform

moar poem writing; needs work

stupid poem, needs a loooot of work.

Woke up feeling really good today.

eyes and arms and talking

maybe there will always be somebody who'll tell you that you're overemotional and you write overdramatic bullshit. and maybe that somebody is right?

You can travel the world, but you can't run away from the person you are in your heart;You can be who you want to be and make us believe in you.Keep all your light in the dark, but if you're searchin for truth, you must look in the mirror.

of communication

thinking a bit more about what I've been thinking about a lot lately

I know

Wanting and life

Hm.

Is it gone?

aw, damn it.

100 Post

Raging

Everyone gets scared

giant dirt road

I feel, therefore I write

If

Here

On a Trip to the Shopping Mall

Just might end up somewhere in a fight, in a fight

Happy couples are making me sick.

Wondering

Inadequate, worthless, ignorant...

How to Reconcile to Two Worlds

The Me-Too Conundrum

Dust Poem

More ramblings containing introverted self-reflection that will be boring to pretty much any one but my thought-strained brain.

Ramblin' Rose

Poem 5000

I FIGURED OUT THE PROBLEM WITH MY BRAIN (and why I have this crazy obsession with Life, the Universe, and Everything)

Hodge Podge

Some more psychologically-wrecked motivational rambling

Mad World

The more I see, the less I know.

Muck

Bits and pieces of random stuff at 2:30 in the morning

Hey, December.

Eigenstate

One of those mostly happy posts.

Unfinished

this post is entirely non-sequitous

Stuck

What is it?

Bugger

Possibilities - the Halloween Edition

Learning

Hamlet

Want.

Listen to Wishing Well

Faster

Heaven for me would be pure discovery.

Male dominance happened gradually

It's pretty ambiguous.

In contemplating the fact that most songs are about love...

Flawed

Internet-induced ADD (Or, another pointless, boring post by no one imparticular)

Don't be Stupid to the Stupid

Activist-like Volunteer stuff

Can you imagine anything beyond the Universe- and space itself?

Your Excellency, Ayatollah

Searching, Searching, Overwhelmed, Searching

Secrets, Memories, and Privacy

Sleep.

United for Neda

I am officially in love with Zachary Quinto.

Thoughts on Those People Everyone Knows: Icons of Modern Society

Possible Fall Schedule

Modes of Life

You can travel the world, but you can't run away from the person you are in your heart;
You can be who you want to be and make us believe in you.
Keep all your light in the dark, but if you're searchin for truth, you must look in the mirror.