Cranking up the volume

Holy fuck. Why did I never do this before. Just turn up the music volume all the way. As loud as can be. A qualitative difference.

This is awesome. 

Escape

I have been watching a lot of tv. Like too much.  It has occurred to me that I am using tv as an escape. An escape from what? I don't know. something. boredom maybe? That's too easy. Loneliness maybe? heartbreak? myself? expectations? thinking? emptiness? Fuck if i know. all these things? none of these things? Point is I am escaping from something. Hiding myself away from the world. Which just creates more emptiness. So much emptiness I feel like exploding. Except there is noting to there to explode. Maybe that's why I have decided to write on this blog again. Anti-tv? not quite.

Thing with escaping is that its been a theme of my thoughts for a long time. About 2 years ago or so I was talking with my aunt about my dreams and she pointed out that they all had to do with escaping in some way. And its so true. But what could I have been escaping from in my childhood? Has it been the same thing this whole time? Or is it constantly changing and only the constant is the need to escape?

Chances are I know very well what I am escaping from but I will not let myself admit it. I wont let myself realize.

The thing is I hate the idea of escape. I want more than anything to exist in the the world. To feel it weighing on me from all sides. (my desk is vibrating from my music. Its awesome.) But not just that, I want to be part of this world, express myself to it. Feedback. The exact opposite of escape from the world.

Even still, I don't want to wake up in the mornings. I prefer in those moments my dreams, my little world surrounded by blankets. And then once I am awake, I never want to sleep again. Because I know that once I do I will not want to wake again. But then when I am awake I am watching tv. Which is often the same as dreaming. Or is it the other way around.

On the same theme of escape. I am into bondage. I love the feeling of being tied up, confined, unable to move. Though that's a whole other can of worms and probably deserves its own post. What might my desire to be bound have to do with my desire to escape? two sides of the same coin? nothing to do with each other? different aspects of myself in competition?

I just remembered something. That may or may not be relevant. When I was little my parents would take me and my brother to their rehearsals. Where we would proceed to have nothing to do. And be bored. I distinctly remember that feeling of boredom. It was a feeling of wrongness. A feeling I get every now and then and associate very strongly with something being wrong. If I feel that now I think fuck something is wrong, I need to leave, now. Escape if you will.

Anyways, is escape always bad? As much as I associate most escape with all which is wrong there are some forms of escape which are good. the above paragraph for example. Escaping from that feeling of wrongness is good in my book. More than that there is a huge part of me which is capable of just existing in my own little world. Shutting myself in. Escaping from that it also good. Especially considering the infinite value I place on experiencing the world which is not my own making.  

           

How did I ever come to believe I could communicate?

I have decided to start writing again in this blog. (And no this had nothing to do with the title of this post)

sitting comfortably in the reg

Am I bored? am I boring? i guess im bored. since my mind is fairly blank but i want to to be otherwise. maybe i am in that awful place where there is nothing i want to do? actually no.
i am wrong, i am not bored. or at least not anymore. writing here really worked . also there is something i want to do. i want to walk outside. i want to walk and walk and walk. but that is not stopping me from sitting here half dead. I guess i just cant leave the reg.

problem with writing in the reg is i am afraid people will see and ask what i am doing. i really don't want people to know about this blog.

But you know what this is good, i need to write anyways, regardless of this possibility. fuck that lame fear.

 (staring off onto space tapping my shoes)

Quite a few friends have expressed fear of a mythos. fear of a reputation which permeates across the board among even those they do not know. A fear that people will have a preconceived notion of them before even meeting them. I have never worried about this. I don't know why.

It seems like a legit thing to worry about. I mean what if you fail to meet or developed a close friendship with someone because they thought all these things about you before you even met? That would suck. still the thought of it does not phase me at all. Not sure why.

maybe i am just that arrogant: if someone is swayed by preconceived notions they are not worth my snot?
Maybe i am just not capable of imagining what the preconceived notions of me could possibly be?
Weird.

This is something i am do worry about very much which is actually very similar, but completely different. I worry that people, specifically people i know well and consider good friends, will misunderstand me.  I worry that I am incapable of expressing what i mean, and that it will always come out twisted. you see the difference right? i hope so since i find it too boring to go into.

You know Glen has great insight. he understands me quite well. i asked him once how he would describe me, and he said noble but ultimately misunderstood. well at least he understand how misunderstood i feel all the time. he also said something else which i think fits me very well. he called me a diva. its pretty funny but in this weird way has this great truth to it.  

well that enough rambling for now.

loss

It finally hit me, just now, what i lost today. I lost the source of my greatest happiness this quarter. The reason i have been so happy this quarter was not the light course load, not the beautiful winter, not the ice-skating, not even getting accepted to grad schools. No it is what i lost just 9 hours ago. I am crying.

As if on purpose my headphones also broke. I swear the world likes taunting me with symbolism.

Still i want to end this post on the bright side. My good friend comforted me greatly and even gave me her headphones. And well you know that means that the greatest source of happiness in LIFE is still strong: I have great friends. And if by any chance one of my friends is reading this i just want to say, I love you.        

Chronicles of broken sound.

A bit more than a year and a half ago my headphones broke. At the time i was using an old iPod that my grandma gave me to listen to my music. I am not sure how, there was really no definable cause, but all of the sudden, one day, out of the blue, sound stopped coming out of one of the ear-buds. I was left with half the sound. Incomplete. 

It was the beginning of spring quarter of my second year. I went on that way, listening to half the music, only the lyrics to one song or only the strings to another, one ear blasted with sound the other empty, completely out of harmony and un-unified, for the rest of the quarter. when the quarter ended i went home to Miami  I tried to find a pair of headphones in my house, but failed. All of them had very low sound quality, airplane headphones, as if the sound came from a million mile away. Soon i left on an airplane headed to Chile.

When i got to Chile and began working in the lab i decided i have had enough of this. I grabbed my headphones, striped them down, cut them up, and soldered them back together. I fixed the mother fuckers. for the rest of the time in Chile i had full music one again. 

After the summer it was a new year a new quarter. Fall. Beautiful fall. And how do i start it? Obviously i proceed to lose my newly fixed headphones. Luckily i found some BAMF over-ear headphones at my grandmas. Now i had it good. But it seems i just could not hold on to such fullness of sound for long. It was a tough stressful quarter and i coped by biting my headphone wires. Soon i bit though one of the wires and was left with only half of myself. This time i would not let it stand. With the memory of fixing my headphones at my disposal i charged into my lab, cut them open, and broke out the solder. So began the endless battle of fixing and breaking that only ended a week ago with a total break. The headphones are now reduced to mere earmuffs. That quarter had its ups and downs. 

The quarter ended in catastrophe. I blame the lint. I noticed a buildup of lint inside of the iPod. I thought nothing of it. lint is lint is harmless i thought. I was wrong. one day i plugged in the headphones and no sound came out. no sound at all. The headphone jack was broken! The source of sound was broken. nothing came out out it. that was the end of all sound for a while.

At this point i was obsessed with fixing my sound problems. A headphone jack is one small part of an iPod. I could fix it, just you watch. And by god i did! Back home over winter break i found a broken iPod from years past. The hard-drive was dead. The headphone jack should still work. With the help of my dad i ripped apart both iPods and replaced the headphone jack. success. It will take more than lint to make me lose my music. 

There was however still a problem: the cable connecting the headphone jack to the hard-drive was kinda loose. Every now and then it would disconnect and i would have to rip though the exterior of the device to its heart and manually plug it back in. I could live with that. Only i did not notice, or more correctly noticed all to well, that it started happening more frequently and along with this it started to shut off randomly. The light of my lyrical life was liberality flickering. By the end of spring it turned off and could not be turned back on again. I had lost not only the source of the beautiful sound but the content of that sound. Whats left after that? Emptiness? Silence? My own isolated thoughts? What good is any of that? All was not lost, before the end i got a backup of my music onto my computer. Still being confined to my computer, to my lonely room, is no way to live. 

Salvation came that summer from my uncle. Hearing of my troubles he gave me his old iPhone. And with it came a shit-ton of new sounds. All his music was still on it. So much to explore and so much to hear. TThe battle still raged with my headphones but that was manageable. All was well.  And well, i needed those sounds. This past fall was rough. So many dreadful troubles. Without access to beautiful sound i might have lost my mind much sooner.

The strain of that fall was too much... I was drowning. I would plug in my headphones and out of one ear-bud the sound came from underwater. A little twist would fix this problem and bring it back to full clarity. But i knew that the twist was nothing more than plugin my ears to the drowning man's pleas. Soon enough the man died. No sound came from the that ear-bud anymore. The headphone jack was once again broken. The source of half my music is gone.   

Nothing left to do now but accept it. Its broken. No fixing this. The headphone battle is a lost. Now, I went out and bought some cheap headphones from the store. Using them at the computer. 

A strange thing has been happening of late. Every now and then, as i am walking, listening to my broken music, hearing my half sounds, for a brief moment a flood of music comes over both ears. For a fleeting moment i can hear the full harmony. I am awash in Awe. I try to hold still. I try to hold onto the fullness for as long as i can. But i always lose it. And quickly too. I have accepted that its broken. But now I can't help but hope as I walk, for those brief moments when everything comes together again. 

Those brief moments are not without their pain. Because i know its broken, because i have accepted that its broken, i know the moment will pass. But even knowing that i stand still, hold my breath, and try to hold on.          

Well that's the end.

By the way in case anyone reading this is too thick to figure it out, this is not just about broken electronics. 

   

     

Spell Check

I should really get another booklet to draw in. i am sitting here wanting to draw but without anything to do it on. actually i think i lost my booklet from last spring. kinda sad, i liked it. also lost my particles notes. they were good notes. tempted to get up and walk outside. can't decide on a direction. well that's an excuse. honestly just not sure if i want to go outside.

I need to stop looking up to spell check, breaks my train of thought. the idiot is a good book. that's an understatement. its great. you know, as my brother said we get our notions of love from art, not philosophy. and well the art that got my notions from is Dostoevsky,  the idiot in particular. Explains why i am slightly fucked up? maybe. but you know, i interpret literature for myself  based on myself, with nothing else in mind then myself  so the notions i gain are quite different than the notions of the book taken from any other standpoint.

I just spell checked again  where was I. i suppose i also got many notions from music. music. music. music. decisions are hard sometimes. just a few minutes earlier i had a hard time decided what music to listen to. discerning desires. so difficult at time. life is strange.

I spell checked yet again. jeez its fun to click on all those read underlines. sometimes the word i want is not even on the list. so far away. so far away from the words. so far away from something. everything? that which i want? discerning what i want? my keyboard?

And now i just spell checked on  purpose. i ran dry and wanted to break off the paragraph. fairly useful  you know i am afraid that my roommate will come in here and see my typing  i kinda don't want him to see me writing a blog. i really don't want people to know about this blog. truth be told i am a little ashamed of one of my previous posts. i jumped the gun. somewhat. in ways. there is truth to it, but superficial truth. but strangely nothing to do with beauty. which is why it is superficial. josh had it right. about what? well that's all nonsense. growth happens in 2 dimensions i guess.

Only 3-4 words that time. i forget how many. forgetfulness. Nietzsche. i reread one of my favorite parts of gemology of morals. the part about forgetfulness as a force and the right to make promises. that creature who has a right to make promises is man. the...order of thought mixed overlapping not sure which sentence to put down first. the ability of have an extended will, to will and will that will. a force which contracts forgetfulness: conscience. a beautiful idea. i like Nietzsche.

That time too many to count. gong back to the snooze question. what really tops me i un-sureness. i am not sure whether it is better to snooze or not to. so i go with the easier and the habitual. i hope to become an experimental physicist  so i purpose an experiment to determine whether or not snooze is good. for 2 weeks i will not snooze. if i am prophesier(that was meant to be happier can you believe that?)  on a hope. taking into account confounding variables. then i will no whether or not it is better to snooze. a good idea in my mind.

Great idea for a title: spell check. word vomit is fun. i wonder if this is how most people write most of the time. i know i don't. i abnormally(meant to be normally but the abnormal given by spell check is so much better) have to painstakingly think about every sentence and position and what not. and then i comes out awful. back to the idiot. or not. hmm. you know what upsets me somewhat. the way in which Hillel gives out candy. he makes candy specifically so as to give it away. so nice right. many people seem to think so. i think there is something wrong. and i believe i found i. its the way he gives it away. he always only gives one piece. now i may sound like someone who simply wants more candy  and indeed as long as its not his fudge i do always want more. its that in a way this shows he clearly does not actually care about the enjoyment of the person he gives it to. he cares about being able to give as much as possible. he cant give a larger quantity because he wants, needs, to give more. it is not the enjoyment of others he is looking to but the act of giving seen in him by others. it is his own enjoyment in giving, completely removed from the effect of the giving on the other. now i am not accusing him of selfishness or any nonsense like that. selfishness is a great good. i am accusing him of not caring. if he truly wanted to brighten someones day, he should say to them here, take your fill. he will run out faster, yes. but the effect the candy will have on the person receiving it will be so much greater. instead of "here let me give you something" it is "here let me satisfy you." huge difference.

Well that last one was long, lots of red lines. Shes so fine, shes in my mind, i hear her calling. a lyric from a song i am listening to, resounded in my mind, felt it should be written down. you know i am in a strange circumstance. if someone asked me how i was i would say great. now if they asked why, i would give boring mundane answers. the reason for this you see is i am indeed great. but too much thought as to why i am feeling great, could very easily lead to me being sad. and so i am not going to go into it. i wrote down half a sentence and could not continue. ah oh well.

Now not only did i spell check but i also made the spaces between paragraphs. Clearly i am getting ready to end this post. somehow i am too worn out(?) to read but not so to write. so different the two things are. expressing your thoughts and developing them. my friend Sara gave me a great distinction between literature and philosophy. they both make arguments  the subjects are the same, namely human life and such things relating to it. but herein lies the difference. literature tugs at your emotions and argues that way. philosophy is restricted to reason, tugging at your logical connections. literature can and is more powerful. it can effect your completely and utterly without your full knowledge of what exactly the effect is. hmm. Nietzsche however makes arguments geared towards emotions. i guess Nietzsche is literature  sometimes you have to bite the bullet.  

You know it really pisses me off that this thing does not auto capitalize at the begging of sentences. i am too lazy to go back and read though this and capitalize the stuff. oh well. guess what! i told someone one of my secrets. ca you believe that. i guess in a way i only have one now. except i would still consider the one i told  secret since i wouldn't tell anyone else. I honestly wanted to tell someone. it is strange and bothersome to have an aspect of your life of yourself that has never existed out loud. i fear that the person i told will now interpret certain things i say and do in a different light. sometimes this different light is the true light sometimes not. sometimes i only realize my action can be interpreted with that significance after i have acted.

OK now i am sick of my whole start a paragraph with a sentence about spell checking theme. You know who i met over winter break. wait. why am i talking to you? whats with the you? who are you? are you me? i like conversations, and i think in terms of them. but general i have some named person in mind to just sit there and nod. but now. who are you? anyways enough of that. as i was saying, over winter break i met Lucy  the first girl i have ever met who i considered beautiful. The girl who literally changed my life by simply saying hi to me and getting me to look up from my book. In this life, in this life, in this oh sweet life, were coming in from the cold. I looked up and was stuck. i was hit the the face with beauty. And i remember thinking to myself "dear god here i was nose in my book, not noticing this girl, this beautiful girl. oh dear god how could i miss such beauty, how could i not see. oh god why have i not been looking around, why have i not been experiencing the beauty of the world. I need to look around. i must look around me at this beautiful world." And so my life changed  changed deeply, i would from then be looking around me experiencing the beauty. that was in 10th grade. lots of pivotal moments in 10th grade. well anyways, i saw her again winter break and again i was stuck by how beautiful she was. made me happy. my taste has not changed apparently. And once again being stricken stirred a great effect in me. reaffirm  my notions. interestingly enough after high-school i had saw her once more before this, when i was going out with Joanna  and i did not find her so intensely beautiful  no great effect took place within me then. this is how i know that when i am with someone i a blind to others. Joanna of course is also this intensely beautiful  the power of such beauty .. anyways it was a lot of fun to hang out with Lucy again. heard some beautiful stories. I really want to keep in touch with her somehow. maybe send her a message on Facebook and hope to have some Facebook chats. but then again what if receiving such messages annoys her. ah, that infernal skepticism  that infernal assumption that my presence will annoy another person. hmm. that assumption is nonsense. it may be true that i may annoy some people by talking to them, but that should not stop me. not in any way. hmm. still a barrier of sorts.  

That was my last spell check. I am done.    

Nonsense

renewed

I'm in love!I honestly didn't think someone would ever bring out this feeling in me again.  Then out of the blue, a simple twist of fate, and for the second time in my life my face continuously hurts from smiling.

 And to think i have only known her for 1 week now. I realize that this is the first time i have actually publicly phrased how i feel in terms of "love." instead i have always used the words "fallen for" or "head over heels" or some other such nonsense. This is because people would most likely judge me or think me somehow silly for saying i love someone i only met a week ago. i can hear the objections of "you do not know her well enough to say such things". The fools. I am more certain of this feeling and that it is brought out because of this particular person then i am that the sun will rise tomorrow. And sure, while i do not know much in the way of details of her life, it does not take long to have an understanding of someones character. i can see the light in her eyes and that is enough. and so come the judgement that may i will speak the truth. I know myself well enough to be able to do so.

And whats more (though i may easily be wrong) i am fairly certain she feel the same way about me. She however believes that romantic relationships in the way i conceive them are impossible in the "fallen world", and/or that they are not worth the risk, and/or that it is impossible to be genuine in a romantic relationship.  

And so i have a now sort of renewed purpose for this blog: i will now use it to collect my thoughts as to why she is wrong about all these things. This blog essentially has become a place for me to organize my thoughts in the defense of romance.

She also happens to be the one person who I have told about this blog. Chances are she has forgotten and will never visit it. Still I am not worried about such a visit for i am compelled to be completely open to her. And besides she is the one who told me to put my thoughts into writing.

wasted away

The past week i have wasted away. i have slept alot. watched alot of tv, gossip girl. and i have played alot of video games.( I have just noticed i used the word alot. To all you grammar freaks i know alot is not a real word. but guess what, everyone knows what is meant by the 4 letters ALOT. I like these 4 letters in combination, and by god i will continue to use them regardless of your gasps of horror.) Now you may be thinking i consider this a waste because this means i got no "work" done. you are not completely wrong. When telling anyone about this waste i will of course mention this lack of work. At the same time however you are completely wrong. Work has nothing to do with it.

A week without joy is a waste. that is the only waste. anything without joy or leading to joy is a waste. that is my veiw on life. When i play these video games and watch tv i have fun sure, but it is emotionless fun. It is a deadening fun. i realized that doing these things gave me no joy and yet i continued. i continued knowing full well that it was all simply deadening.

I find this disturbing. why did i continue. did i somehow want this numbness. or did i just decide it was easier. or maybe i am just addicted. or maybe i could not think of anything better to do.

Now here is where all these work obsessed freaks have their glimpse of being right. when I at last stayed up all night doing work instead of playing video games, when the sun came up i was filled with joy. Apparently i am the type of person to derive joy from doing work. I will not admit to this just yet for i have a few other theories but its looks about right.

I feel like I was a bit too harsh on the tv and video games. Chuck and his relationships from gossip girl did in fact give me some measure of joy. As far as video games go I had some good conversations with one of people i had been playing with.  And honestly very few things relax me the way video games do. The relaxation may not be joyous but it still important.


As always the answer i come to should have been obvious from the start. I need balance. And lots of it. hmmm. The answer becomes less obvious as time goes on. the balancing point is unstable. It is like a ball on top of a hill. regardless of how well you balance it eventually the symmetry will break and it will roll down one side of the hill. so now we have a hill with various sides. if one side is the side of deadening numbness, then there must be a side of unrelenting joy. I know this to be true. And seeing this possibility why the hell should i in any way play the balancing act, when clearly i want to roll down a particular side.

I have oversimplified things with the hill metaphor, the real hill is in no way symmetric and it might even be raining. It is so easy to slip down the deadening path. Luckily for me i enjoy the rain.

No end

It seems i still have use for this blog. use is the same as before. to stop myself from playing tetris.

the end

I think i am done with this blog. i realized i would rather draw in a notebook then write on a computer. maybe if i have something stuck on my mind i will write it down here, but i wouldn't count on it.

problem with capitalism

here is the problem with america, or actually with capitalism. there is a lot of progress, a lot of inventing, a lot of brilliant things. but it all goes too far. My iPod is broken. i am letting it go. there is nothing left to do to keep it alive. it wont turn on. its probably good that i am letting it go. being able to let things go is a good thing. Anyways,  today i looked up ipods on the apple website. i looked specifically for ipod classics, i don't want any of this touch nonsense. And here is what i found: a ipod classic for $250. It had 160 GB of storage. That was the only model for classic available. No one and i mean no one can possibly use 160 GB of music.  Now, 8 years ago they had 30 GB ipods for the same price. Now they have better technology. Thanks to capitalism. but what happens due to this new technology. Do we get cheaper 30 GB ipods? No. we get the same price but now an absurd 160GB. It is honestly fucking stupid.
This exemplifies the problem of capitalism. we advance develop new things, new capabilities. but how do we use these capabilities, we make something that adds nothing, we overload. its why even with all this technology we work as hard if not more than before. we have capabilities to work less and  receive just as much but instead the market demands that we work just as much and revive more than we can possibly enjoy . joy is gone.

I just played tetris

For the first time since i started my blog i played tetris. and i hated myself for it. all the while i was playing it i was hating myself. At one point i realized i had decided to play tetris specifically because i wanted to upset myself. talk about perverted. doing something specifically so as to become upset. i probably wanted to upset myself to relive the total dull feeling of writing this biology paper. Ugh, talk about terrible.
And do you know whats the worst thing about this perversion of tetris? do you know why i started playing and became good at tetris in the first place? Do you have any idea? I started playing tetris to become closer to my grandpa who died before i could even get to know him. I noticed that the ancient mac in my grandmas basement had tetris on it. the oldest version of tetris imaginable, older than the atri version. On on this tetris every single high score belonged to my grandpa. now I hold one or two spots near the bottom of the high score list.  And now i hate myself for playing tetris.

You can learn some things from playing tetris. For example, it is not a general lack of ability which leads to the loss of a game. no it is one small mistake. one simple misplaced piece leads to a cascade of failures. what is my small mistake in life. my small mistake is playing tetris. dwindle away my time, shirking from life, shirking form all that is good.

Speaking of dwindling time. I slept for 13 hours yesterday. I had much to do so i decided to take a nap. my alarm failed and a i woke up much later than expected. that is not a problem. what is a problem is i stayed in bed. i was not even sleepy. i just felt like staying in bed. i felt doing nothing, just staying on the couch, lying there. no i was not sleepy, i was tired, tired with life. ahhhhhh. that pains me. the fact that i could at some moment be tired with life. i would like to say i am someone with unending vitality but the truth is i am not. and it pains me. Oh well. the truth is you just do what you can. actually you do what you care to. I care. i care to care. and tetris oh tetris is a form of not caring. and i hate myself for that. 

meh

well i am mildly annoyed. such is life. i feel so sluggish. i have a desire to be filled with energy, get up, do the dishes and make cookies. and yet. i am incapable of giving myself this energy. actually fuck that. its not true at all. i very well can give myself that energy. but for some reason i don't want to. i want to stay sluggish. hmm maybe i should replace the word sluggish with depressed. hmm. w/e. use either word you want. ugh. i must  be slightly depressed. maybe it is because something i was looking forward to didn't go how i wanted. actually it didn't go at all. i wish i knew what to do to wake. something can be done i am sure of it. question is what. fuck i am overthinking. well hell.

woot. just fixed my ipod again. actually i didn't. i just found out what was wrong with it.

Interesting: speelcheck turns overthinking into freethinking.

Fuck, why can't i do those dishes. been meaning to do them for a week.

joy at excessive work

something about having more work than i can possible handle that gives me such joy. i just found out i have my bio essay due this week on top of everything else i have to do. basically making something due every day. each thing requires about  day to complete, which means i need to work nonstop until this Friday. Mostly likely i will have to pull multiple allnighters in a row to get everything done. and yet instead of panicking, becoming sad and dejected at the amount of work, i have become insanely happy. man i got issues. Shit i was so happy i almost cried.

I think i like a challenge. And this is a challenge, so bring it.

Also this helps me understand and even be happy about someone else being busy until next Saturday.

Life is good.

i wonder why i am writing this instead of doing said work.

Because i wanted to. because that's what its all about anyway.  

such is like.

OK goodbye.

why am i still typing.

love part two

Earlier i posted something on the subject of love. but it had to do more with what i consider it is to be over someone rather than what i consider it is to be in love. now i want to answer the second question. And i will tell you it is not an easy one to answer.

Once again i must go back to that mountain. Up there at the top of that mountain, feeling the mountain air, breathing it in. feeling the pellets of snow whirling around my face. huddling behind a rock for protection against the wind which would tear you apart. starring out at the world, the singing snow, and the glimpses of neighboring peaks. every breath fills you with joy. every breath fills you with life. every breath... there are really no words to describe the feeling gained from every single breath. No words to describe the feeling of that experience, no words besides love. that is love. that feeling in every breath.

That is love. a very bad description i admit but i hope you get the idea. so what does it mean to be in love with someone. well very simple. your in love with someone when being with them inspires that feeling. when being with them fills you up. fills you up with the joy of life.

come to think of it, or actually come to listen to it, there is a song which describes love better than i can.  Hallelujah. that song is by far the best description of love i have ever heard.

Love is hallelujah. love is when every single breath you draw is a hallelujah.

love part 1

This is something i have had on my mind for a while now. If someone asks me if i still love Joanna, I say yes. When people ask me if i am over Joanna, I say yes. I am. I also say I got over her when i climbed a mountain in a storm. Now, what people think this means is: faced with the beauty and power of nature at its highest intensity, I realized that me, and Joanna and my love for her and our relationship are nothing in comparison. They are dead wrong. I love Joanna. (I will get to what i think that means in a few moments) On the top of that mountain i did not think of Joanna at all. I did not think of anything but the experience of being there. 

Once i had climbed down and was back in the city i took a look at the photographs i had taken of the mountain. After i got to the end of those pictures i saw that there were other pictures on the camera. Some of these other pictures were of me and Joanna. As i looked at these pictures still buzzing with the mountain high i realized something: They are not comparable (this is actually a topology metaphor). I love Joanna.  Nothing i do will change that. nor should anything i do change that. i love her. And i love that mountain. she does not love me, and that is that. I can not be with her or love her in the action sense of the word. but that changes nothing. Just as me no longer being on that mountain changes nothing about the fact that i love that mountain. And just like that, i was at peace with it. and that is what i mean when i say i am over her. i am at peace with the knowledge that i love her and she does not love me.

I have some more to say but i should be heading to class. maybe i will make a part 2 next time i post.        

blank blank blank

Everyone is such a pussy. my god.. meh, i don't care enough to complain about people being to afraid to walk home at night ( actually i do care but don't want to waste my time complaining). I suppose it is dangerous but still people should have the courage to walk 6 blocks.

anyways not too much more to be said about that. staying up all night is great.

blank blank blank. why is my mind blank fright now. just a second ago it was filled with various thoughts. so many. of all different types. i suppose a blog and deciding to write things down can do that to you.

Blank blank blank plank.

scattered thoughts

writing is difficult. thoughts need to settle down before you can write them. one of the points of this blog wads to write down my thoughts as they come but its truly impossible. have to pick one line and stick with it. sad but maybe a good thing. forced organization. only problem is as now i end up talking about writing and not much else.


well time to pick something. David Bowie. listening to David Bowie. i got back into him because i felt like singing rock and roll suicide at karaoke. brilliant. beautiful. its a song that just builds and builds and builds. by the end it is just... lack of words. lots of his song are life that, building. and so many of the songs are different form each other and everything else. I have realized i like that kind of thing. I like new sounds. sounds  i have never thought of before.


Ah music. I have always been so self conscious about music, and i still am. only now i try to ignore that self conscious part of myself. It is so much better to just listen to what you like, talk about what you like and sing what you like regardless of other people. I think i am so self conscious about music because my family is all musicians. On the cruise talking with all of them and hearing them talk made it so obvious. They talk about it so knowledgeably and judge it so technically, based on things i flat out don't understand. whats worse is that talk about it being good or bad based on these things. Furthermore they talk about people who don't know these thing, people like me, and speculate as to how they hear the music. And so whenever i think to talk about music, or even listen to music, i cant help but think of myself being judged for my ignorance. look he can't even tell good music from bad music. shit like that.  MAN, FUCK THAT. I can tell if music has an effect on me. And if you ask me, what makes musics good, like any other art, is if it has an effect on someone. If it brings something out in a person, or better brings something unheard of to the person. The way i like to phrase it is: the music i want to listen to is music that speaks to me. simple.

ah simple. my life, my joys and my troubles are all so simple. I heard my cousins talking about their relationship troubles and all of them had the most complicated situations i heard of in my life. This whit that and that with this and this preventing that and then another this and that and so many thats and thises i could hardly keep up. Me, my troubles are simple. I love a girl. She does not love me. I don't know whats better simple troubles or complicated ones. Problem with simple troubles is there is generally nothing you can do about it. Complicated ones on the other hand seem like a huge head ache. oh well. such is life.

I really like how two best things both start with an L. Love and Life. As a result L is my favorite letter. it is also a beautiful letter in cursive. beautiful curves and a joy to write down. Something i really want to do is write Ls on random walls.  The world could do with some more Love, Life, Luck, Lust, and Laughter. come to think of it, sadly most Ls will be interpreted to mean loser. But hey maybe that not so bad, i mean we all are losers anyways or at least I am. Know whats sad, I am egotistical enough to think that i am as good as anyone else. therefore since i am a loser everyone must be a loser. well that just took a dark turn. I don't really think i am a loser. I only lost her. Its like my man John Lennon once said: "Part of me suspects that I'm a loser, and the other part of me thinks I'm God Almighty." 

I Love my family.

I really don't know where to go from here. Some things just can't be said. Others just wont be said. Secrets. I would say a secret is best defined as something you won't say. If someone asks you something and you refuse to say it then it is a secret. I have very few secrets. Would be nice not to have any but such is life. Luckily I have only 2 (maybe 3) that I can think of. I am not counting promises of silence I made to other people, those are not my secrets, those are other peoples secrets. Now the question I have is what causes a secret? thinking about it in my case at least i think it is shame. If you are ashamed of something, you wont tell anyone about it. shame is a powerful thing. Notes from the Underground shows the power of shame like no other. The narrator constantly is talking about how he is ashamed of himself. And what is the result? The result a most despicable wretch, something lower than an insect. It is not pride as Christianity suggest that is a sin but shame. Reason tells me I should not be ashamed of my secrets but i am. reason is weak. Another reason someone may have a secret is to protect others. If you knew something which if revealed would cause harm to others, you would not tell a soul unless you felt you could trust them. I suppose most military secrets are of that kind. Still these secrets are only half secrets (the maybe 3) since you could still tell someone if you trusted them enough. The other type, the ones stemming from shame, now those you don't tell a soul regardless of trust.

I want to trust everyone. Actually scratch that. I trust everyone.    

Well i have been writing now for about 3 hours. It is now 2:42 am. I have class tomorrow at 12:00 pm. plenty of time. The start of a new quarter. I have a good feeling. Today was beautiful. Winter is beautiful.  lets see what the winter brings.

I just remembered a great quote i saw in a note on john's fb. A beautiful quote, spoke straight to my heart.  (maybe i will talk more about it some other day, as for today its time for sleep) Something to always keep in mind:

"A dead thing can go with the stream, only a live thing can go against it."