transatlanticism

This world is too big.
Too vast.
Too unknown.
Too unknowable.
Millions of strangers,
All bearing untold burdens.
Countless tales of distrust,
Infinite stories of betrayal,
Measureless accounts of deceit;
Their biographies never heard.
Ideas upon ambitions,
Goals upon destinations,
Never uttered, never attained.
Merely executed, as they all evaporate.
Due to old age..
Mostly neglect.
Knowledge we could have known,
People we could have met,
Wasted.
Only tangible things exist,
Only what we know to be true,
Nothing questioned.
Nothing explored.
Nothing is everything we don't know.
Ignorance found blissful,
Unconsciousness found acceptable.
Not knowing what is,
knowing what isn't.
This life is too short.
Too abbreviated,
Too condensed,
Too condensable.
Open your eyes,
For they have been blind to the beauty of forms left unmade.
Motivate your ears,
For they have been deaf to the sounds of words left unsaid.
Mobilize your mouth,
For it has said nothing to the strangers left unadvised.
Prompt your mind,
For it has encapsulated thoughts from this world left unarmed.
This world is too big,
This life is too short.

if only i could explain

If only I could explain the truths of this world, the messed up meanings of utter significance and the facts in which life itself throws so unexpectedly into our hearts. How can we live and love, learn and grow, when so many setbacks threaten to push us down, stomp our fire out and watch as we crumbled under our own weight?

And if this is true, how can we dream, when dreams but only lead to death itself for death is the only ending, the place in which we will all succumb to one day more. Oh the bitter irony it feels to me, the twisted fate that we all must find ourselves ever working towards. When one must live, so must one die, but when one dies, others find no more will to live.

Hardships happen and those may put a notch in our lives, but when death happens, when its irresistable call pulls us all away, one by one, there is more then just a notch thrown. More then just an insignificant event.

No, when death is evident, life itself stops. The tears of bitter reality, and the truths behind untold words make life itself one less place to feel home. One by one we perish. One by one we watch as each one of us falls from grace and leaves this world for something... or maybe nothing. Maybe death itself is but a word to describe the nothingness in which we feel the moment someone slips through our grasps.

All I know, all I could possibly tell you is that this life, this one heart that beats within my breast, the one dream in which carries itself is the one thing that pushes me forwards when death's call pulls another away.

Respect the dead, but go on living, no matter the pain, the suffering, the heartache. Never falter, always hold your head high, and never let go.

Dedicated to: Grant Smith, Mrs Crane, and Mr.Mahler...

-

3 deaths in one month. It takes its toll on you.

but i am a butterfly, you wouldn't let me die

To live was one thing. To love, now that was something else entirely. Under what pretences do I speak of such a thing as love? Merely a thought maybe? Or maybe a strange twist in fate that brought me here, sitting before my computer screen with but a cup of tea and a cloudy afternoon? I could not tell you, for I myself cannot quite put words to why this is being spoken to you. Maybe, maybe because I found something like belonging in these words. A sanctuary in these solemn few sentences that I call home. Maybe, it’s the solidarity of a surrounding that is not unstable, untruthful.

For the pages of a book are always truthful. They never change, never lie. They never cheat you out of the ending that will always come, no matter how many pages you turn, how many times your eyes have scanned the same familiar sentences. To live, learn, and love are things in this world that have become something of a passion of mine, but the risk, the freedom in this life, is something that scares me beyond comprehension. The pages of a book, they are safe.

So I write to you, not of those harsh realities that come in all the wrong time, or maybe, that’s exactly what I have been writing all this time. Maybe, these sentences are filled with but a brief revelation of the sights my own eyes have seen, or the mere idea that I have never before found something more hope enduring, more soulful, more immaculate, then the words that I speak, the pictures I sew with but a few words, and the need.

The rain patters against my window now, slow, ongoing. I can hear it’s drone as I type, my own heart pattering along with the ever persistent barrage. I let its steady rhythm take hold of me once more, but the risk to step outside, to let the rain envelope me in its cool, bitter dance, was something I could not find myself doing.

So I sit here, watching through parted curtains, as the rain falls, and wish that maybe someday, I would dance among it and leave all my fears, all my inhibitions behind. That day, that day will be the day that I can finally live again.

i'll tell you a tale i know nothing about

Ladies and Gentlemen, skinny and stout,
I'll tell you a tale I know nothing about;
The Admission is free, so pay at the door,
Now pull up a chair and sit on the floor.

One fine day in the middle of the night,
Two dead boys got up to fight;
Back to back they faced each other,
Drew their swords and shot each other.

A blind man came to watch fair play,
A mute man came to shout "Horray!"
A deaf policeman heard the noise and
Came to stop those two dead boys.

He lived on the corner in the middle of the block,
In a two-story house on a vacant lot;
A man with no legs came walking by,
and kicked the lawman in his thigh.

He crashed through a wall without making a sound,
into a dry creek bed and suddenly drowned;
The long black hearse came to cart him away,
But he ran for his life and is still gone today.

I watched from the corner of the big round table,
The only eyewitness to facts of my fable;
But if you doubt my lies are true,
Just ask the blind man, he saw it too

can i just post something without making sense?

how do i pick up the pieces from this broken heart on the floor
the glass shards could kill me with just a simple touch
everything was perfect from the start
nothing to worry about, the fairytales were finally coming true for me
but then we stopped talking just like that
whatever happened, i will not know
you fell for somebody else, while i'm outside waiting in the cold
knocking on your door, but there's no one inside the rooms of your heart
no more love left in my name
no more room for trust and games
you moved on to someone else, and it hurts so much to see you like that
i thought i was the only one that was meant to shoulder you with the sun
if i tell you all this, would you still smile at my name?
or have you moved on completely that my name doesn't exist
just another blur, another checkmark in your book

you said you loved me
you lead me on
how could i not develop feelings for a man like that
every mistake is a lesson learned
but you're not a mistake in my book
you can't be after all the things you said to me
i will wait for you
i will sing for you
i will write a song for you
that i was very special to you
if i was so special, why have you let me go
in such a miniscule amount of time?
there's no more chances for me to take on you anymore
except whether to continue loving you or to let you go
i'm confused inside the chambers of my soul
a light shines through but there's a bar on the door
i can't get out, there's no escape
either i hold on or fall to the ground and let go
to the cold marble floor below
maybe there would be someone there to catch me in their arms
waiting for me, telling me to trust myself to let go
but i'm afraid of the fall to the bottom
stomach comes up to my throat, a screaming blur
i break my bones or i break my heart
sacrificial pain.

i gave you my heart, and i gave you parts of me that no one has ever seen
you took me for granted, no doubt
all these lessons just leave questions bordering my mouth
was it ever really worth it?
was this really fate?
i'm still not okay, it's going to take some time
time takes time to heal these wounds you left for me
no banadage in sight except the healing hope that i should still tell you how i feel
that maybe you would return the favor
but i doubt ityour heart reaches out to someone else now
but i need to tell you how i feel
i just don't mean to make it harder on you
but if i told you, could you live with that?
i know i couldn't live with that...

just listen to how i feel if i find the heart to tell you
i don't mean to make things harder for you
i want to be there for you but how could i when you were never there for me
the reflections of my heart just stare back at me through this mirror
whatever i think or do, the opposite tends to happen
this life is putting me in a pessimistic state of mind
do i just have to think negatively in order to get to a positive experience?
it seems that's what my fate wants me to do

the things i have to do but don't wanna do
the places i have to go but i don't wanna go
exchanging one friendship for one love
reworking the words for one thing i can't get enough of
it's never quite warm when the attitude's this cold
trying to sqeeze in a revolution while still doing what i'm told
but what'll happen in the future is outside of these hands
but when i tell you this you don't want to understand
maybe i'm not the one you're looking for
maybe i'm not the one
that's supposed to shoulder your love and provide you with the sun
maybe i'm meant to be a meandering fool sitting in the rain
or maybe not, only when it's over and done with will there be an end to pain...

speak

My voice is just a messenger. Nothing more, nothing less.

And yet, the tone in which my message is delivered will affect the how others will judge it.

My intelligence or insight may be perceived in many different ways based on how I convey my thoughts. If I speak with purpose, showing my passion with ascending exuberance, my audience will no doubt be impressed with my candor. Some will see me as intelligent and respectable, while others with a wary nature may see me as verbose and reject my ideals. While my words may remain the same, their interpretation is still affected by the way they are projected into the minds of the masses.

If I speak of hope in a time of war, I will be lauded and ridiculed simultaneously. But if I present myself with a passionate and determined manner, I am that much more likely to gain my listeners' praise despite the lies I may be uttering.

No matter what I say, the way I am heard will affect the ourcome.

For my voice is but a delusion of eloquence. Nothing more. Nothing less.

boredom on the first day of spring break

"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so"

- William Shakespeare

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade wind in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
- Mark Twain

"Love is blind; friendship closes its eyes."
- Anonymous

"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul."

- Emily Dickinson

"It is easy in the world to live after the world's opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude."

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Destiny is not a matter of chance but of choice. Not something to wish for but to attain."

- William Jennings Bryan

"I am only one, but I am still one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the something that I can do."

- Edward Everett Hale

"Bite off more than you can chew, then chew it."

- Ella Williams

"People are unreasonable, illogical and self-centered. Love them anyway.If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Do good anyway. If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies. Succeed anyway.The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway. Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable. Be honest and frank anyway.The biggest person with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest person with the smallest mind. Think big anyway. What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight. Build anyway. People really need help but may attack if you help them. Help people anyway. Give the world the best you have and you might get kicked in the teeth. Give the world the best you've got anyway."

- Anonymous

"Life without a purpose is a languid, drifting thing; every day we ought to review our purpose, saying to ourselves, 'This day let me make a sound beginning'"

- Thomas Kempis

"The most important of life's battles is the one we fight daily in the silent chambers of the soul."

- David O. McKay

"When you're worried, tell yourself the truth: Shyness is a strength to build on, not a character flaw to be stamped out."

- Malvern School

"The strongest among the weak is the one who doesn't forget his weaknesses."

- Danish Proverb

"I owe my success to having listened respectfully to the very best advice, and then going away and doing the exact opposite."

- G.K. Chesterton

"Some make it happen, some watch it happen, and some say, 'What happened?'"

- Anonymous

"Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it. Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumored by many. Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books. Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders. Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations. But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it."

- Buddha

storms

There are many that fear the thunder,
the aftermath of a lightning strike,
the loud, ear pounding drumming.

Me,
I am different.

I fear what is true,
i fear the bolt,
the river of energy
crashing down,
forgetting remorse.

Its a funny thing.

no one really stops,
to think about the destruction,
the devestation,
the catastrophic results,
caused by the single stream of electricity

rather,
they cover their ears
and brace themselves
for the inevitable.

its selfish
its wrong
its human.

Not knowing
whether a life gone
house ruined
or possesion destroyed
perhaps nothing at all

gets
to
me.

The unknown vs. the expected
the lightning vs. the thunder

Me,
I am different.

even though the '60s are over...

I believe in kindness and love; I believe in generosity, happiness and subsequently despair. I believe there is good and evil, however we choose to define it, and I believe that our minds are far more powerful than we realize.

I believe life is simply to live, and "purpose" is something we coined and made for ourselves. I believe our choices are what define us, not who or what we believe in. I believe there is more to life than material goods, and yet I understand the hedonistic nature of man. I believe that love and intimacy are the greatest emotional indulgences, simultaneously a miracle cure and a deadly poison.

I believe that our personalities are inherent but we are molded by those who care for us. I believe the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world. I believe that we will always be united and divided as long as we live.

I believe in things we can never understand, and that philosophy is nothing but an impossible, intellectual search for a truth that is impossible to ever find. An exercise in futility has seldom been so eloquent.

I believe that we must live within the boundaries of our lives and treat others with respect as we cleanse ourselves from toxic acquaintances. I believe those who do evil should not be subject to fame and fortune for their actions and everyday heroes do not get the honor they deserve.

I believe that we are all the same, regardless of our skin or birthplace. I believe we will never live in peace, but I believe in the spirit of benevolence and the ideal of a peaceful, loving world. However, I do not hold my breath for it.

valentine's day: a paranoid hypothesis

I had a thought yesterday. Shocking, I know, but I kid you not; it made me realize that thought is a double-edged sword. Too little in the way of mental activity will hold you back, while too much can interfere with your everyday life. In the latter circumstance, overanalyzation can lead to paranoia.

Speaking of which.......do you ever feel like you're being watched, like in The Truman Show or The Matrix? Your logic makes you shrug off these notions, disputing their validity and assuring yourself that you're not interesting enough to follow. But in our day and age, it's easy to see how paranoia could become a natural response to these thoughts. What if those people really ARE watching you? It'd be nearly impossible to prove they are, but equally difficult to conclude the opposite.

This got me noticing the smaller nuances in my life, in some feeble attempt to make my otherwise normal (read: boring) life a little more exciting. In doing so, I noticed that I seem to be bombarded by advertisements for Valentine's Day of late. I see ads for it on TV and on the internet, I hear them on the radio (oddly enough, at times I'm thinking about the holiday), and in some strange way I get the feeling that it's all directed toward me. It's all a conspiracy. Maybe it's because I'm a romantic at heart and therefore see little point to Valentine's Day. Maybe it's because I'm a romantic at heart and believe that the same feeling can be captured anyday. I don't know how and I don't know why.....but I think "they" are on to me.

In fact, yesterday I decided to take a short nap. I dozed off faster than I thought, and in my R.E.M., I had the most bizarre dream. I was walking in the middle of the highway, as cars sped past me, horns blaring and drivers cursing my conception, and telling me how to spend my afterlife. Then the craziest thing happened. There I was, in the middle of the busy highway, when Cupid himself appeared before me.

"Krystina," he said, with a much deeper voice than I'd expect from a corpulent flying baby with an out-of-date hunting weapon.

"You barely get into the Christmas spirit, you don't go trick-or-treating anymore, and the last time you lost a tooth you only cared about the dental bill. You've lost your innocence, madam, and now that you're no longer pure, you don't even get into the spirit of Valentine's Day?"

I was a bit starstruck, needless to say. I mean, it's not everyday you get raked over the coals by a Roman god in the middle of a busy highway.

"Well, uh, Cupid......I don't believe in just being romantic on one day, in a poor attempt to make up for not doing so on other days. I think it's just about as commercialized as Christmas, and just another way for jewellers to make money off people who can't afford to part with their hard-earned cash."

This made him angry.

"Well then we ought to cancel birthdays, because it's just an excuse to get drunk and remember coming out of your mother: bald, screaming and helpless. You know, pretty much how you end up after 80 years."

He was right. I was wrong, but of course I wasn't about to admit that.

"YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!"

I assumed my best fighting stance, but I wasn't quick enough to avoid a well-placed love arrow. He nailed me right on my left chest. As I fell to the ground, I realized that the highway was now my soulmate.

I woke up in a panicked sweat. It was just then, that I heard the television blaring in the other room."This Valentine's Day, get her what she REALLY wants....every kiss begins with Kay!"

I........think they know about me. And I think, after this Valentine's Day, they could come to hunt me down. I....I....guess it's time for my pill.

vision part two

so i wrote a little story in november about a lady who was at this party, and she sees this man from across the room, and he immediately grabs her attention. but the next time she looks for him, he vanished. well, during exams, i decided to continue the story, so i could have something interesting to post on my blog once when my math exam was overwith. and it is. and here is the continuation

[by the way, it would be useful to read the first part if you haven't read it yet]

http://krystinadee.blogspot.com/2008/11/mindless-comfort-grows-when-im-alone.html

continuation:

The rain is pouring down now. Thunder claps roar and the sky is ablaze with lightning. Sandra makes her way to the washroom and shuts the door. She leans forward, hands gripping the sides of the sink. With her shoulders hunched and her head down, she gazes into the mirror. Looking deeply into her own eyes as they begin to well up with tears, she whispers to herself, "It's just not possible. It's just not possible."

She knew what she had seen. He was right there, looking right at her. A kindred spirit. He knew her. But how? It wasn't possible.

She inches closer to the mirror. "There's something strange about this glass", she muses. Her gaze closes in. She wants the truth. She wants the answer. How could someone she'd never seen before influence her thoughts like this? Why was this so hard to digest? How can a split second of what might have been a dream change the very landscape of her thoughts? And why did this mirror have such a hold on her right now?

Her eyes are burning. Every blink causes her pain. Why can't she look away?

"Who are you!?", she says to her crystalline likeness. No response. Of course. It's only a mirror. She concentrates on her eyes, those sharp, green eyes and wipes a tear from her face. "Get a hold of yourself! It must have been the champagne. You just need to go back out there and--"

A knock at the door startles her.

"Sandra, are you in there?"

She doesn't respond.

"Sandra??" says the woman as she knocks louder, and with an tone of angst in her voice.

"I'll be out in a minute."

"Alright, I just wanted to make sure you're okay. You looked like you saw a ghost out there!"

"What a strange choice of words. It's just nerves. I'll be out soon."

She steadies herself and tries to regain composure. Afterall, she had the rest of the evening to get through. She looks at herself once more. Her heart begins to race again, just as it did when she saw him. She gazes deeper. Her reflection............. smiles at her.

Wait, smiles?!

She is taken aback. She hadn't smiled. She covers her mouth and so does her reflection. She looks left and right, and so does her reflection. She runs her fingers through her hair, and her likeness follows suit.

"Oh god!" she says in between heavy breaths. "I must be going crazy."

She looks back into the mirror to see that there is no discrepancy between her and the beautiful woman staring back at her. Identical twins. She leans in closer, and feels a tingle down her spine. Nearly paralyzed with fear, she quickly pulls back. Her reflection, does not.

She can hear her heart beating in her ears. The impossible had just taken place.

"You know what you have to do, Sandra."

"This can't be.........it's...it's...you're..."

"Just a reflection?"

"I.....well, yes!"

"Well my darling, as your vision of Victor may have shown you, not everything is what it appears to be. Come closer."

"Why should I trust you?" she says, as she crosses her arms nervously.

"What, you don't trust yourself? How pitiful."

Sandra leans in cautiously. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"You're in great danger, Sandra. These people will eat you alive as soon as pledge themselves to you. They are like dying wolves. They have nothing. And they want everything. You need to get out of their grasp."

"Who are these people?! I don't understand what's going on here!"

"Clearly you don't. Otherwise, you wouldn't be.............talking to yourself like this. Oh, and Sandra?"

"Yes?"

Her reflection's face begins to contort, as she raidly ages and decays.

"RUN!!" she cries out.

The glass cracks down the middle!

She falls back in fear, her heart pounding in her chest, the room spinning, and voices floating about inside her mind. The image of her face is everywhere. The blood-curdling scream echoes endlessly. She stumbles to her feet, opens the door and and falls down to her hands and knees, collapsing onto the marble floor.

A waiter spots her and puts down his tray, hastily rushing to her side. "Sandra! What happened!? Are you alright? Sandra! Can you hear me?" He carefully turns her on her back.

Slowly, her eyes open. Shaking, barely able to make a sound, she looks at him and struggles to speak. The band stops playing, and within moments all flock to her. Muffled sounds of her name being called as they swarm like a sea of locusts around her prone body is the only thing keeping her awake.

The waiter places his hand gently on her face.

"It's okay, Sandra. You're going to be alright. Can you tell me what happened?"

She grabs the sleeve of his shirt and grips tightly. "David.......David...." she whispers.

"What is it?"

"Don't...............look in the mirror........"

it's my birthday!

I blinked and I'm already 17. Where did the time go?!

Seventeen Forever - Metro Station


One year older than last January, minutes expire differently now. Shadows sprawl differently, the furnace sings differently. No longer do closed doors and locked eyes keep out what frightens, instead it takes wide-angle staring and lack of armor to take on the battlefield. No longer can warmth stop relentless shivers, dissipate cold sweat eroding my spine. The frigid bathroom tile has made friends with past-midnight, its coolness on my palms empties my lungs. After enough hours gone sleepless my hands start to shake and I hold on to nothing, literally, figuratively. I now understand that having friends doesn't protect from being an outcast, and learn to see it as a beautiful phenomenon, much like everything else buzzing around. Traffic flow becomes a steel ballet and suddenly, suddenly nothing is so bad anymore. I close my eyes and instead of dreaming, watch the shades and dots and flashes intertwine into black into white, and I know that I am alright, that everything will always be alright. I know I see things unconventionally, I know it in every gram of bone marrow and ounce of too-thin blood, and I know that one day the clock will strike a miraculous opportunity to apply my perception and create something magical. Until that epiphany, let this be a pact, a heart-crossed swear, here's to exploration and experimentation. Embracing sharp angles and worn down curves alike, seeing lack of sleep as simply more time to do something divine, and the tearful letdowns of when promising plans splinter. To let go and to let live, for as long as my bones remain solid. A new perspective and the desire to illuminate, small fragments and sepia tones, insects still walking and refurbished rubber. Here's to.

"You are young and I was scared
You're wise beyond your years
But I don't care
And I can feel your heartbeat
You know exactly where to take me

We're one mistake from being together
But let's not ask why it's not right
You won't be seventeen forever
And we can get away with this tonight

'Will you remember me?'
You ask me as I leave
'Remember what I said?'
Oh, how could I
Oh, how could I forget?"

- K is 17 in 4 hours and 48 minutes.

see you around, the same way i always do

this heart was taking its amends and picking back up again...



we made our vows the other night
how we would be the best of friends
how nothing could come between us
but, yet, take a closer look
get our your monocle if you need to
and you will see that something already has
halfway across the world
you find your pleasure in soul grasping
pulling me away each time you do
the united force between us
the one we thought would never crumble
has done just that
you said i could have him, he was all mine
then you come along
of course the most beautiful of all
and take him away, just for your pleasures
and what do i have left?
the tension and nervous breakdowns
that are about to break the floodgates of these orbs
yet you will never realize the existence of my words
i will never tell you how i feel about that
pretending everything is fine
"go ahead, have him."
i feel no need to compete with you anymore
to try to live up to your capabilities
because you are the beauty and i am the mirror
you are the fairest one in the land
what gentleman wouldn't want you?
while i,
i am capable of cracking at the mere reflection of you


so go ahead,
have him
you try to root for me
but you are just twisting your words
don't think i realize the facade that is on your face now
i know you mean the 'root' underground
that nobody sees, nobody realizes
that holds the flourishing beauty of nature
and keeps it from tumbling down
yes, i keep my feet solidly planted in the floor
because i have no room to fly
you're holding me down
while you grace the world with your charm
i am like the sun behind the clouds
noticed for a little while
but disappears when clouded over,
and
is
g
o
n
e

-------------------------

no intention of posting a blog at all today...
my soul just chased me here to pour itself out
and flood over the empty glass.

nothing ever feels right anymore...

- K

my favourite things remix.

In light of 2008 being over, I thought a classic song was in order. However, it needs a little update.

Layoffs of workers with frowns on their faces

Wall Street is crashing and losing its bases

Murders and scandals; the hate that they bring

These are a few of my favorite things!

U.S. elections and money restricted

Death counts much higher than they predicted

The war in Iraq could be just for bling-bling

These are a few of my favorite things!

Gas prices soar and then they fall lower

Canada's government mows itself over

Gas is so cheap that it makes us all sing

So who really cares about global warm-ing!?

When the dog bites...

When the clap stings...

When I'm feeling sad.....

I simply remember my favorite things

And then I don't feel......... soooooo baaaaad!

if you have nothing to say, say nothing

How does one write when there is nothing to write about? With no topic, no inspiration, no muse to inspire mellifluous prose or painstakingly detailed accounts of human emotion, how does anyone aspire to delve into the minds of others? How would anyone attempt to infuse them with a sense of relation or a need to understand? It is certainly a common question, but not all questions have answers. With such diversity of topics, life creates far too many writing opportunities to capture in a single article. As we continue to evolve, there will be a never-ending learning curve and host of experiences to have. I do not claim to be as insightful as Winston Churchill or as outspoken as Henry Rollins. All I see in life is questions, but answers are few and far between.

The question: what should I write about?

I could ponder the small, often neglected nuances of nature, blathering incessantly about the grace of falling autumn leaves or the peaceful calm of the snow. I could reminisce about the blustery winter nights of my childhood, wandering down my narrow street spellbound by the silence and silenced by its mystic charm. I would have little in the way of qualms with contemplating whether sunset or sunrise is more poignant. I could speak of the indescribable sense of peace that comes from such a simple sound: waves, flowing in by the thousand, gently caressing the sand with the grace of a silent car crash.

Or perhaps I could write about the frailty of man. I could caution all to heed the warnings of the surgeon general and obey every possible healthy lifestyle habit that I could think of. I could teach others how life is akin to a newborn child. Nurture it, love it, and let it be, lest you turn it against you and spend the rest of your life in regret. I could preach to anyone willing to lend an ear how life should never be taken for granted, and how blessings must be counted before misfortunes even factor into the equation. I could wallow in self-pity and even evoke sympathy from kind-hearted individuals over personal losses and unfortunate circumstances that have befallen me. I could attempt to teach the public the truth about self-fulfilling prophecies and how personal negativity will cause one's own destruction. I could explain how the only things to fear in life are fear itself, and inevitably *yourself. He or she is often silently your worst enemy.

If the mood struck, I could decide to indulge in blatant narcissism and engage in shameless self-praise, claiming superiority over my peers in a satirical nature. I could recount tales of my own amusing misfortune for all to laugh at and learn from. I could impart the wisdom I've earned from experience and remind others of the short duration life truly has. I would strive to teach others to live, love, and laugh, for it is easier than most realize to waste away the best times of life by focusing purely on "the bottom line." I could incite laughter by pointing out hypocrisy in everyday life, or accrue respect by saying what the common man wishes he could.

I could write page after page about poetry and music, or perhaps fiction or film. I could be philosophical or outrageous; I could be insightful or rude. I could write of our future to remind us of our past. Writing gives freedom to the mind: I could write anything that came to me. In today's life, anything's definition is immensely broad, moreso than ever before. I could write of anything, ANYTHING, anything at all.

I may write of whatever I choose.

And yet........I choose to write of nothing.

Sorry for the length... :

give my gun when it's loaded

oh heart, what went wrong?
you were so positive, so upbeat last week. what happened today?
did someone trample all over it? stomp on it with their foot? throw it against the wall? churn it like butter?
whatever happened, you don't have the same beat. the same pulse. the same life as you did before.
my brain fed off the mad rush of blood you shared, which gave me mere hopes and unrequited fantasies; i let it get to my head.
the electricity of my nerves that flowed through my body seemed to turn into a mad thunderstorm at the thought of losing him; even when i knew i already did.
my veins seemed to snap apart like broken guitar strings; one in which you can't replace for a couple dollars.

you see, heart, you are like the domino and he is the finger.
one small push and all comes down.

sleep awaits

im looking for a truth that cant be bent
im looking for a word that cant be twisted
im looking for a tale that isn’t tall
im looking for a kingdom where the truth will never fall.

the truth is like a loaded gun and it fires itself at everyone,
and everyone just runs away, afraid of what the truth might say,
but if you take the bullet straight into your heart,
then the truth will cut you down and you will find something you can believe

checklist

I found this a while ago while lurking the internet, and I saved it to my documents. I just found it now while waiting for my internet to load up, and I'd thought it'd be cool to post it up on here.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded.
But trust me, in 20 years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you cant grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked...You are not as fat as you imagine.
Don't worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum.
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing everyday that scares you.
Don't be reckless with other peoples hearts, don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Don't waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind...the race is long, and in the end its only with yourself.
Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults;
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.
Dont feel guilty if you don't know what to do with your life...the most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don't.
Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't, maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't, maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary...what ever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either - your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's.
Enjoy your body, use it every way you can...don't be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.
Dance...even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.
Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.
Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents, you'll never know when they'll be gone for good.
Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on.
Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography in lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Respect your elders.
Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.
Don't mess too much with your hair, or by the time its 40, it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it.
Advice is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than its worth.

elizabethtown

No true fiasco ever began his quest for true adhocracy
A motto of the British Speacial Service Air Force is:
Those who risk; live
A single green vine chute is able to grow through cement
The Pacific Northwestern Salmon beats itself bloody on its quest to travel hundreds of miles upstream; against the current
With a single purpose in mind:
Sex, of course.
But also
Life

get lost, get found, or get swallowed in the sea

once a upon a time
words never hurt me.
change never killed me.
love never broke me.
fear never shook me.
faith never faded away.
i never broke down.
and i was always happy.
once upon a time...

A sad thing in life is that sometimes you meet someone who means a lot to you only to find out in the end that it was never bound to be and you just have to let go.
Some people think it's holding on that makes one strong- sometimes it's letting go
Sometimes you have to let go to see if there was anything worth holding on to.
There are things that we never want to let go of, people we never want to leave behind. But keep in mind that letting go isn’t the end of the world, it’s the beginning of a new life.
Sometimes you have to smile, pretend every things Ok
Hold back the tears, and just walk away...

It's like taking me to the highest mountain,
showing me the world, and saying
this is what you can't have.
I'm not the girl that runs up to you when I see you
And I'm not the girl who jumps at every moment
To talk to you, but I am the girl who keeps it all inside
And regrets it all later....

-

what's with all these twitter updates?

and embedding music on here is confusing...

hi. my name is NOOB.

I just got this random song stuck in my head. I think it was from Space Jam...

"Everybody get up it's time to slam now

We got a real jam going down, welcome to the space jam

it's your chance, do your dance, at the space jam... alright.'

sicknesss. i'm going to go conjure up this movie. i wonder if i still have it?

either way, it'll be like digging for treasure.

if i don't find it; i knew i wouldn't.

but if i do; HOT DIGGIDY DOG, PURE GOLD *does hilbilly dance*

ciao.