Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Goodbye For Now

Signing off for a while. There are no words, no thoughts, no images or any other means of communication to adequately express how I feel. Rather than be plagued by the desire to relieve the urge to express myself, I'm just going to take a break.

Sixty milligrams of Okay
And a gram of Heaven.
You'd think things would change. 

Monday, May 28, 2012

Simply a Paint Job

My mother and I have been working to paint her bedroom the past few days. Move all the furniture, dust everything, tape the floor boards, tape around the windows, tape the ceiling, tape around the doors. Primer. Let it dry. PAINT.
We finished this afternoon around one o'clock, after a few spills on the carpet, a few spills on ourselves, and a Lyle Lovett marathon.

While the work itself was somewhat tiring, constantly bending over to load your brush, going up and down step-ladders, etc., I realized when we finished that I had spent a few days in that room bonding with my mother, and it was good. We'd laughed a lot, talked a lot, heaved and hoed a lot, and completed a house project by ourselves (with perhaps the help of Wal-Mart and Fred's). We didn't take a road trip to the mountains; we didn't spend a day at the beach; we didn't go mother-daughter shopping at the Mall of America. We just threw on some old clothes and got a little sweaty. But Reader, that's what made it a special time for me. I'm leaving for college in about two months, the last one out of the house. It's no longer the big vacations that I enjoy spending with my mother. It's the simple things. The little things. Tonight even, we went out to dinner together as a sort of last-minute celebration for finishing her room and, she said, as a thank you to me. We had a really wonderful time! We talked and laughed for over an hour as we sat and ate pizza and pasta at Painturo's. It was a perfect night. The kind of night I'll miss when I leave home, but be thankful for the memories.

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Neil deGrasse Tyson tweeted this image some time ago with the caption, "Yep. Sometimes there's no other way to say it." It's why I love that man.

Under the cloud of medication
And the memories of where my mind has been
I sometimes forget
How extraordinary life is.

In moments of regret
When the churning waves in my brain subside
And I need something more to compensate
And to help heal pieces of my mind
I feel guilt
I feel insufficient for my life.

But on days like this
When the sun shines and my family is dear
When we have good times
And when the wind blows my hair just how I like
I remember that the things my mind needs
Are not a necessity.

Still, I wonder,
How much of this is real?
How much of this feeling did I authenticate
In the bowers of the bone cage round my brain
Am I really okay?
Is life really this simple?
And I struggle to differentiate
Between falsehood and reality.

But does it even matter,
If perception is real,
Whether we live a false bliss
Or grip the tethers of how we feel?

Today has as much beauty as the last
Today has as much divinity in its existence
Today will tomorrow be the past
Today is the future we wished for without hesitance.

It's Church Day...

Today is Sunday, May the 27th, year 2012. Churches across the nation are packed, preachers standing in robes and suits behind their sacred pulpit lecturing on the love of Jesus Christ and the depravity of the world. Sanctuary lighting is being controlled by some team of behind-the-scene men, carefully dimming the lights as the messenger of God speaks gravely about Hell, and then bringing them into full magnitude of brightness as the choir sings triumphantly, "Hallelujah!"

Performance 101.

When Jesus spoke to people about Heaven and love and sacrifice, I don't really get the feeling that he had James and John working the lighting somewhere and Matthew and Luke singing baritone behind the crowds to provide a nice "mood setting." I may be wrong, I wasn't there.

So this morning, rather than attending a nice performance, I opted to sleep in. Heathen, I know. I'm preparing myself to go to Hell. One is a sinner, after all, if he or she is not a dutiful church-going Christian. In fact, if you're reading this now instead of sitting in church, you too should prepare yourself for fire and brimstone. (Unless you're Seventh Day Adventist. They get a pass for Sunday.)

Ahhh....Am I going over the top here? Should I reign in my sarcasm a bit? After all, I do have many good memories and LOTS of wonderful relationships as a result of growing up in church. I really do. Most of my dearest friends I met in the church nursery as a child and grew up with, going to church camps together and spending school breaks on mission trips. I've had some wonderful years in that environment. What bothers me now as I grow older is simply the ritualistic approach that I see permeating the halls and sanctuaries of churches. So much is dependent on what needs to be done, how to bring someone to Jesus, ways to improve your testimony. Now, some of my issues with these approaches stems simply from a difference in belief, not necessarily a disdain for the practice itself...though perhaps a bit.

May I take a moment to digress? I feel so relaxed right now. Sitting up in my bed with a warm blanket across my lap, doing what I love -- writing. I don't feel the Sunday morning pressure of being on a time crunch to find a parking spot, tearing through my closet trying to find something to wear -- all parts of the ritual that I don't so much care for.

If I'm going to attend church, I pull on an old long-sleeved shirt and slip on some overalls. I throw my hair up in a bun and tie a bandanna around my head. I grab an old satchel and place inside a water bottle and Leaves of Grass. I head to the back door where I don a jacket, depending on the weather, and then slip my feet into some boots. Off to the woods. Nature serves my soul. So willingly. So inviting.

I do not condemn the church. The church itself, after all, is the body of Christ. The people. But I think we've lost so much truth. We're not focusing anymore on absorbing the love of God and loving other people. We focus on whether the TV screens are operating correctly, if the coffee stations are well-kept, and if the nurseries have child-proof locks and gates for liability reasons. Damn it all, people. Tear down the church building and gather in a field! Forget the legalities, those man-made encumbrances that structure your philosophies! Damn it all, people...

Some Forgotten Insight...again

Once again, I woke up this morning and found these questions and ideas written on my notepad. Have fun with it.

Jesus is true. The world just fucked Him up.

I believe in Jesus. But damn, I am not like these people. But I love Jesus.

Damn beautiful stars...gospel fucking stars. Life. Shining. Beautiful stars. Crowns of Heaven. Stars in the universe.

My hands are cold, my words are warm; where can you touch me?

Karma, babe. I just hiccuped and lost the period. It popped up later. period.

I can alter the universe.

I can pull off anything.


Roller coaster tips the wave and glides away.

I am on fire.

Where did you come from? In birth or life, in a gift wrapped with lace or middle-aged in death? I want to know these things?

Cave in the ice. Crave the ice that hangs freely where it falls.

I am holding my mind on trial.

There is a divide between words and thought. I wish I could mend it beautifully.

Tango till we're sore...

I am made of nectro eluerons. Get at me.

I love you all. You.

Paradise will fall, and we will be down with hell, but later capitalized into our proper cases.

And I swallow the silk of the stars, blazing into light years of grace.

Walking through life sucks. Run while your knees are fuckin' young! =D

That was a good positive one, eh? =) Much love, my dear.

Spiraling stairs of tangerines must be fun.....I swear in my head that rhymes.

There are always lights left on for me, lights to guide my body home, lights to keep me warm, death and life lights. Night lights...Yep, in the hallway outside my door. We're good.

I am sparrow. Don't mock me. Like a bird. Di'j'ya catch what I did there?

If the stars live for an eternity but burn out, then is eternity an everlasting cycle of no rebirths?

Saturday, May 26, 2012


Wondering if my dad is up in those stars...

He taught me to ride a bike.
He taught me how to play Uno.
He took me on adventures.
He took me to see Big Brutus.
Kid memories.

I hope that when people die, they do become a star burning in the night sky.
I hope when I die I'm the star right next to him.

Souls in the Sky, and a bit of Whitman

Reader! Bear with my passions a little longer! The stars tonight are breathtaking! The crescent moon hangs in full view, laid bare by the absence of ghostly clouds tonight, surrounded by a hundred million souls burning in the sky!

I went out tonight to get the mail, since we'd all forgotten earlier today to stop at the mailbox. Our driveway is long, unpaved, with an unplanned but welcome grass path down the middle, perfect for walking along. I'd slipped on some old snug-fitting shoes, threw my jogging jacket on over a t-shirt, and left the house. Immediately I noticed the stars and became overwhelmed by their shining beauty! I ran back to the door and hollered for someone to turn off the flood lights...once it was completely dark out, I felt like I was witnessing the miracle of star birth as each one came more clearly into sight. The moon reigned kindly over its orchestra of beetles, crickets, and night frogs. Music. Unfathomable pleasure received from being a part of nature.

I know reader, I know I'm not branching out much right now. Stars, stars, stars, they fill my writing. I sat down earlier and began to write about my thoughts on quantum mechanics and the different dimensions of existence, but then thought, who wants to read this stuff, save a physics professor? I saved it as a draft. If I get requests, I may post it. But the stars, reader...the stars! I'll continue my story and then later perhaps write about politics and news and informative things......(laughter).

After taking my time strolling (and, I will admit here, skipping) down the driveway, I reached the road and opened my mailbox. Take the mail out, turn around and go home, it's a simple process. But you know something else I love, reader? I love fields!!! And when I reached the mailbox I realized that whoever owned the massive continent of a field that is beyond our little red flag had just mowed it! Open field...no fence...couldn't stay too long, mom would worry...Hell, I took off running!

Thank God the ground was nearly level to perfection, because I never did look down. A wide open field, lightning bugs glowing like gods, and the stars...the moon...the MOON, reader!! Do you see it?? Do you understand what I'm speaking about?? Heavenly beings! Beings that reside in the heavens! Reader, please, feel my passion and let it spur your own! The night sky is beautiful! I kept spinning around, circling, tracing constellations, throwing my arms in the air and wishing I could fly away!

...oh reader...there is so much good. So much beauty. There is equally as much bad, and equally as much hatred and shame, but listen, reader. We focus too much on those negative qualities of life. They are a part of life, we cannot run away from them. But step outside every once and a while. I'm not recommending you fall down and worship the trees (though I also would't stop you), but I'm encouraging you to acknowledge the good and the beautiful. God, I'm being so redundant in my writing. I've said this all a thousand times. Please bear with my passions.

At two in the morning tonight, think of me. I will be outside star-gazing. When all the house lights are out, when the traffic noises have ceased, when the midnight birds sing their most beautiful, secret songs...I will be out there.

After I'd pushed my time in the field -- worried that my family might wonder where I'd gotten off to -- I walked back to my house, still only looking down to avoid tumbling into the ditch between the field and the road. I felt inspired by the night. She is mysterious and reserves her most beautiful treasure for those who keep their eyes on her. She has always had my eyes, and I love her.

"...And that the moon spins round the earth and on with the earth, is equally wonderful,
And that they balance themselves with the sun and stars is equally wonderful."

"I stay a while away O night, but I return to you again and love you.
I love the rich running day, but I do not desert her in whom I lay so long..."

"This is thy hour O soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best,
Night, sleep, death and the stars."

- Walt Whitman
Leaves of Grass

Friday, May 25, 2012

On the run
Off the run

Run in the middle of the street

On the go
Off the go

Go where you please

On fire
Off the warm hearth of heaven's door

Look down into the space between two worlds

WHERE did you find a looking-glass
Made so perfectly of emeralds
Sapphire births in June
When the birds go hunting for warmth
Carry on like a good soldier
Strap down the clues on your back
Marching through bogs of one, two, one, two
WHERE did you look into a mirror
That you found truth
And I only a reflection
This is when it begins
Perpetual reinforcements
Of every nature
To solve a question
To begin discussion
I've read you all
Come down with the help of God
From that mountain
From that high peak
This is when it begins
Perpetual reinforcements
Only for me
Don't you dare think
Don't you dare think for a moment I made this for you
Pining away in the woods
Where it's been lost for years
Hiding under the cover of sunlight
Like the cones that fall to the grass floor
Don't you dare think
Don't you dare think for a moment I made this for you
Stop pretending the night is long enough
The Day drags on like rivers
Eden is too far away
Don't you dare think
Don't you dare think for a moment I made this for you
Grasp my hand and turn away
Silence in the wood was made
No tongues to speak for the living green leaves
I've lost your words
Create an imaginary place
Don't you dare think
Don't you dare think for a moment I made this for you

Thursday, May 24, 2012

An Afternoon Conversation

Let's throw our lives away and get wasted and do heroin and jump off a building.

Sounds like a plan.

Okay, I'll get the needles and the booze. You grab some chairs and a journal.

Isn't this a bit rash...

Fine, forget the chairs, but bring the damn journal. We're gonna write till we bleed.

This sounds like a plan, but it sounds like a fucking bad plan.

First sentence- let's throw our lives away. I'm not really concerned about good or bad.


Really? You're gonna question me now?

Someone should have long ago, dammit. You're running around like a mad man.

And what if I am mad? The mad ones are the only ones for me. Drink, shoot, dive. That's the plan. Sayonara.


We are the frail corners of a tablecloth
Elegant and beautiful after the seamstress is finished
Embroidered with gold
The finest silk sown into our bodies
We are beautiful, and we touch everyone who sits at the table
But after so long,
We tear and tatter
We crease and wither
The gold threads wear away
The silk looses its soft
And we remember we are only the frail corners of a tablecloth

Cosmic Excitement

We look into the cosmos each night that the stars come out, and we gaze ordinarily up at the sky. We're not usually conscious of what we're doing, but with the telescopes set beneath our brow, we look deep into the heart of the universe- into the heart of galaxies, stellar black holes, and dark matter. We are seeing the light leftovers of stars that have burned out billions of years ago and whose beams traveled billions of light years to reach the convex and concave lenses of our eyes.

As a society that always pushes for the new fads, the next best thing, the number one product on the market, and the new frontier, I ask you why we are not investing ourselves more in the trek to outer space. The Star Trek, if you will. We don't need Captain Kirk to rally NASA support or even a social excitement about furthering our adventures into the unknown universe. The excitement is there! I have a hard time finding people who are completely uninterested in hearing about massive invisible holes that “spaghettify” a person, as Neil DeGrasse Tyson has termed the effects of a black hole. Colorful new planets with rings of asteroids orbiting around their gaseous body, comets that fly through the sky carrying the wishes of a hundred million children, stars that implode and create super novas full of all the basic elements of life- we don't lack excitement! We lack the motivation and the means to achieve greatness, but the greatness IS there.

Let kids stop and stare into the stars as they walk out of the grocery store, even though you need to get home and fix dinner. Let them blow up a few fences if it means they can finally launch their own homemade rocket. Human beings are born with the desire to learn and explore. We should never suppress that desire. The universe is beautiful. The magnitude of the stars is worthy of awe. The far reaches of outer space are unfathomable. Let us reenter an age where our eyes are fixed on the night sky. Let us dare again to imagine. We are not separate from the universe. We are right in the middle of it.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

On The Wing

Sometimes in the middle of outer space you hear musical fantasties and orchestras of gods and their lyres and harps and pianos. I swear they are beautiful. They are magicians of truth. Wherever I am I love you. In the warm lights of the european sky in the future sunsets and morning hour births. In the forest, there are crystal lanterns of solid white. They bleed silver onto the platters beneathe them where the mineral fortune is returned to it's original myth, where no one can venture on whim and succeed in finding the life they sought when they first looking at the dusty map and said, "Hell, let's go." This is what I mean. When the stars fly by your window at the break of dawn, watch the birds. They know breath in that moment. But when did we call ourselves creator of the calendar. We are time. I am ticking - tocking - ticking - tock - tick - tock - tick - tock...
I am made of color. I am wild like the daisies in our field, white and yellow and bold with substance. Where can I breathe? In the waterfalls of Egypt. Yes, where Columbus desired to visit, but repressed his desires for the sake of the new world. World. World. Where does that word come from...it's beautiful. And then I'd jump and fight the air to hover there. The sound waves our ears receive have space between them where there exists color that our ears, once focused and instructed by the mind, hear in the sound of an orchestra playing a beautiful symphony, coherent and good. Burst at the seems, Life. I need you. I promise I need you. Where are the corners of the universe? Does it extend into a forever lightning bolt of stars? Crazy about that. I am. But I feel every particle of those plants. Make me an object of grandeur that will unify the poles - when the north and the south collapse together and create a black hole. I'll wait. I promise. Who can ever comprehend the complexity of mathematics? Algebra, freaking Isaac Newton and his damn calculus. Can you spend an eternity in the thermometer's bowl? Would it not be an ocean of the universe, Mercury? I see connections. Don't tell me I can't create a word. I can make a dictionary. Watch how my lexicography skills have beeen...That's not going anywhere. So look. I am going to leave you now. It's time. You always said it was time. 

I love you dearly. I wish you all the very best in life. I am going to go visit my chair and change my mind. Feel free to enjoy yourself.


Hippie Tip of the Day


Aloe plants are miraculous. Do you know what aloe does for your skin?

The aloe plant has been dubbed the "First Aid Plant" because of its numerous medical remedies. It is most commonly used to treat wounds and burns. The leaf is primarily made of water, creating a gel-like anesthetic salve to alleviate itching, swelling and pain. The gel is both antibacterial and antifungal, and it can even stimulate skin cells to speed the healing process. Internally, aloe juice effectively reduces blood sugar levels for diabetics and can help relieve gastric ulcers while neutralizing stomach acid.

-- Aloe Plant Facts | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/about_5079211_aloe-plant.html#ixzz1vkSLjOwi

I'm definitely an advocate for the use of aloe gel. So here's my Hippie Tip of the Day:

In our culture where immediate gratification has been ingrained into our everyday lives, most of us will run to the store and just pick up a bottle of this stuff if we stayed a few minutes too long in the sun while we mowed the lawn or went for an afternoon swim.

<---- Commercial aloe. Bad.

I encourage everyone who loves their skin and who loves to feel connected with nature to invest in an aloe plant. They require very little water to survive (meaning those of us who always forget to water our plants will not have to throw out six of these babies before we hammer out a watering routine), and they can thrive in almost all conditions of weather, indoor and out. The photo at the top of this post is a picture of the aloe plant we keep at our house.

Once your aloe plant has grown sizable enough to use, all you need to do is snap off one of the leaves as close to the root as you can manage. Using your thumbnail, split open the leaf from the base to the tip and use your thumb as a wedge, sliding it down the slit in the leaf, to fully expose the juices inside.
To apply the gel, you can either collect the aloe juice on the tips of your fingers and spread it onto your skin, or you can flatten the leaf and apply directly. Both forms of application feel exquisite on your skin as you use the very fruit of nature to heal your body. Using store-bought aloe should provide the same medical advantages, but cannot compare to the feeling of purpose and connectivity you receive as a result of growing your own aloe vera plant and feeling its smooth, cool gel against your skin. The juice can be applied anywhere on your body, and I recommend using it everywhere for smoother, healthier skin.
Also, when using an aloe plant rather than a bottle of aloe gel, you only spend money once and then the plant will keep producing the medicinal gel you need rather than you having to make a trip to the store when your bottle runs out. The leaves grow back quickly and just as full as the first fruits it produced.

Advocate aloe vera!
I feel
I feel
I feel.

I feel like shedding more tears for humanity
Than for the crimes against the earth

I feel
I feel
Dammit, I feel so deeply.

I feel like bursting out of thin pockets
Rolling in a puddle of rain ripples
Just to know I can still feel cold

I hear.

I hear the voice of angels in unison
Telling me to wrestle with imagination
But there are no angels on earth

Dammit I feel.
I feel
I feel

I feel a welling up inside
Eighteen years of ordinary life
Coming forward now to defy the ordinary
And fuck the world with love and a gentle wind
So gentle

I feel for you.
I feel for an absence of life.
I feel for the birth of life.
I feel for the death of life.
I feel for life itself and every piece of extravagant sunlight.

I feel everything at once
Except home.
What is the plan of the cosmos
In their calm explosion of color
Where do I reside
In the waters below the fall rocks
Seeping through the crevices of time
Looking for a home to call mine
Where should I unfold my wings
Does the wind give preference to its own
Did the magic of life become mundane
With too much knowledge of the unknown
Cast no more stones on our thoughts, please
It is our duty
It is my passion and occupation
It is my life,
Mine to unfold
Unfolding my wings on the tree
Where I'm perched and awaiting no command
Only for the right breeze.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

A Thought On Supremacy

Why do people make such efforts to generalize supremacy? There is always someone better skilled than you, someone with more authority than you, someone greater. Why? When did we create that construct? At some point, supremacy must level off at some pinnacle, or there can be no such thing as supremacy. Without a pinnacle point, it does not exist. Similarly, if no one is ever the greatest, then there can be no one who is the lowest. It must be a never-ending cycle and can therefore not have a beginning (bottom) or an end (top). Yet the function of supremacy did begin somewhere and must therefore not be a cycle, but rather a pyramid, with a wider, more generalized lower portion and a more narrow, elite top portion. What then is the purpose of supremacy? Why is it an instinctive recognition among people? Why do we instinctively classify ourselves?

A Late-Night Journey

I found these...ideas...written on my notepad when I awoke this morning. Make of them what you will...

There are parallel universes, or there could not be imagination.

Imagination cannot be created; it only exists. Thus, some imagine, and some do not.

Pleasure is the the throbbing of vessels in a rainbow colored organ pipe system.

Walt was right.

Wow...there really is Heaven and Hell. 

I am blind even now, when my eyes are open for the first time in life.


Monday, May 21, 2012

Are You There?

Do you hear the rhythm dropping through the clouds? I can see their sound waves and barrier of colors. They beat, pulse, like the blood in my veins. Like the blood in a worm. We plummet together through the leaves of time, falling in perfect octagons, rough on the edge, but warm inside. I can hear the drop, the thump of stars echoing their lives through space. In the navy blue darkness, I found a secret. Behind closed doors I see magnetized elements. From the depths of the earth, meaning ground, meaning dirt and fluctuation of insect numbers, crawl the organisms that keep our elevation stable. Boxes cook blue lanterns. Lightning bolts shine purple and white, their alma mater is the sun. Where would you like to go? Travel to the edge of a water fall and test the ability of each molecule to hold your weight as it stagnates for you before it dives into a depth-less abyss of ice bergs. I enjoy playing the strum of a hummingbird's wing. I want to share my life with you. Read my body, it's there. Movement expresses as much as a word, and both fail to express the soul, though a movement may almost breach that divide. When did we separate? When did the first atoms divide and create two beings? When did the DNA proclaim its power? Cells of inanimate objects scour with jealousy at the cells of living beings. But there is no difference in their grandeur, I swear by it. Regression in love frightens me. But I fly above the wire. Above the grass, barely, skimming the chlorophyll greens. Suppressing Window's jump leads only to the heartache of its spring, its capability. Open. I fall too fast to ever be caught by those who adhere to the laws of time. It is not unfortunate. I hear the rhythm dropping through the clouds. I see their sound waves and barrier of colors. They beat, pulse, like the blood in my veins.

A Yoga and Hot Tea Morning

I feel lovely today. I feel renewed and refreshed. Well-nourished in my spirit. The past two days have been so wonderful, full of running around with friends, experiencing the first great change in my life - graduation - and spending time with my dear family. So today I slept in. I woke around 10:30, clothed myself, washed my face, and took a hot shower at my own leisure. When I felt well-cleansed and awake, I got out and made some hot raspberry tea with a touch of honey, and then practiced yoga on the floor of my bedroom for about 30 minutes.

It was a lovely start to my day, reader. I hope yours is going just as well.

Upon finishing my yoga, I decided to take my tea outside where I sat in the grass under the shade of our maple tree and read some poetry from a book a dear friend of mine lent me. I felt the wind blow gently across my bare neck and back and sipped the last of my tea as I read,

"A clear, attentive mind
Has no meaning but that
Which sees is truly seen."

A beautiful verse! I sat and thought for a minute, pondering these words. I did come to a conclusion. A sort of insight. But I will refrain from discussing my thoughts here so that you, reader, may take those words to heart and find your own meaning in them. I think they're beautiful and more worth original understanding than a synopsis here.

Today must hold something good in store. The sunshine seems ordinary enough, the sky seems consistent enough, but life itself is never subject to a particular pattern or set of rules aside from what we carelessly place upon it for ourselves and thereby limit the possible opportunities that might present themselves. Yet if we are open to each day being the opportunity for a new and beautiful experience, I think we receive that.

Enough autobiography for today. I don't usually write about the events of my life - more my thoughts. But I felt like sharing it. I hope you have a wonderful day, reader. I hope it's new and exciting!

Thursday, May 17, 2012


Reader...If it's not an inconvenience to you, I need to write something a bit more personal tonight. Forgive me. This venue of expression does me good.

I feel trapped. Not desperately trapped, no. Quietly, subtly trapped- inside myself. I grew up as one person and have become a completely different one. You might say, well, that's the natural process of growing up. But when your new self entirely contradicts your old, how do you express that to your family? To the people who have always applauded your personality, your beliefs, your convictions? I'm not trying to come out the closet, I'm not trying to break any news of pregnancy. No, mine is a bit more simple. But it doesn't feel simple.

My belief system no longer aligns with my family's, and while I stand by my beliefs when directly asked about them, I find myself trying to avoid question or conversation about it. I don't want to see the look of disappointment on their face. The look that might say, "How can you be my child?" "How can you be my sister?" "How can you be my granddaughter?" I'm not ashamed of what I believe. I don't want to lose relationships because of it, though. If I spilled to the whole family, "I'm a pot-smoking hippie who thinks love and peace are more important than religion and law!" ...I don't see that going over well. I see torches and pitch forks in my future.

And of course my beliefs are much, much more complex than that little comedic statement, but the idea is that my whole family consists of conservative Christian Southern Baptists. That's almost entirely the opposite identity of my own. And I damn well don't know what to do.

Reader, tell me you love me. Tell me you appreciate my thoughts here on this bit of internet space. Tell me I'm doing the right thing by exploring who I am. I sometimes feel like I'm just up against a wall with it. Like my wings are being crushed underneath the weight of my history. People say about me, "She's a good Christian girl with a solid head on her shoulders." Is that what I am? Skinny dipping and lighting my pipe in the woods? Telling the atoms in my body that they are gods in themselves because they are fundamentally everywhere? Looking into the night sky and saying, "Fuck the ground. I'll be up there one day"?

How trivial my problems are. How minuscule and insignificant. I'm afraid of what those people will think who share my blood. Heaven forbid.

Tell me how to face them, reader. Tell me how to stand up for myself. I'm hesitant even to share this blog with everyone for the thought that my mother or brother find it and reprimand me for my heathen ideas and philosophies. I gave it out to Twitter, but Facebook will have to wait a while. More people. More looks. More condemnation. Why the hell should I care? Susan! Look at yourself! You are intelligent, you are beautiful, you're blessed with imagination and thought! Look.....Hell. When did this happen...

I'm going to leave you tonight with a happy thought. No point in dwelling on things that will work out in time. I just need to give it time. Let fate run its course. Let the sun rise tomorrow and the stars return at night. I find comfort in the consistency of our universe...I find comfort in the knowledge that I am the person I am supposed to be at this moment in time. As are you, reader. We are both who are we supposed to be right now. And tomorrow we will be tomorrow's. Judgement cannot affect that. Hate, love, confusion, heartache, nothing can change the fact that we are always who are meant to be at the moment in time when we question that very thought. Can we choose to evolve ourselves? Can we alter our own destiny? If we think we have control of our lives, would it matter if we didn't? Perception, after all, if reality.

Reader, you're a loyal friend if you've read this far. I might apologize for my spill of...whatever this was...but my questions may be helpful and encouraging to someone across the world or even right next door. I've poured a little bit of heart out tonight. Accept it or brush it aside. It will always be here if you need it again. For the widows in paradise, for the fatherless in Ypsilanti. I wish you a gentle night and a good morning. Until next time...

Sky Journals

I've been cleaning out some old drawers today and enthusiastically disposing of old high school papers. Among the numerous pages of notebook paper I found, I stumbled upon some entitled "Sky Journals" - a compilation of a few paragraphs I scribbled down as I flew from the U.S. to Honduras, admiring the clouds and the ocean below me. The entries were as follows:

Nashville to Atlanta
We took off and flew straight into the clouds. As we passed their threshold, the sunrise came into view. So many colors bursting everywhere. The new sunlight illuminates ripples on the tops of the clouds, like the crests of waves in a vast sea. It looks like a shining blanket of snow. It's strange to think that one can fall right through its floor, a thousand blue and pink cotton balls.
The wing jutting out to my left reminds me that I was not made to fly. It's a beautiful gift.

Everything is golden now.

Atlanta to San Pedro Sula
Flying over the Gulf of Mexico. Breathtaking. There is a golden film of light touching all parts of the surface. It is magnificent. The ocean of clouds lingering over the water some distance off creates the illusion of a dark continent beneath me.
We've met the distance now. The expanse of white lies underneath our left wing. I can see no end. Our metal cage rumbles and rattles, but the billows below are undisturbed.
Looking higher, the soft blue sky fades into the blackness of space. I wish we could go higher.
Cotton balls. Thousands and thousands of cotton balls.
The sun glitters off my wing. I feel its warmth. A break in the clouds below reveals churning ocean waves. There is no land in sight. We are too far free.

I can see the borders of Cuba now. Desert land it looks like to me. No! It's not Cuba! It's simply the sun reflecting golden rays again over the water. Such vast proportions of light!

I can discern the ocean waves. The water looks choppy. But nothing seems to move. Instead of a violent torment of crashing waves, it looks like a blue ceiling with raised texture. Like I could run my hand across the surface and feel tiny fixed bumps.
The scenery doesn't change, but I can't bring myself to stop looking at it. So I'm not going to. Just take it all in. Allow my eyes to absorb whatever beauty they can capture.
So beautiful. Any reader besides myself is likely bored. But I find it awesome. I might conclude that it's not the scene itself which is so admirable, but the greatness of that scene. The failure to comprehend the extent of its enormous bounds. There is nothing so great as the ocean.

Cumulonimbus clouds have popped up everywhere. We are flying over Cancun. The water around its shores has a bold aqua color. Like someone spray-painted color across its surface and it did not wash away.

The date would have been January 13. I know not why I stopped writing after Cancun. I remember seeing coral reefs in the middle of the ocean that were untouched by humanity. It was a beautiful flight.

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Fairness and Fate

Let me tell you, Love, not all things are fair. It is not fair that children should go hungry simply because there is no food. It is not fair that deceitful conniving people often rise above the honest and compassionate in society. It is not fair that lovers should be denied or condemned for their sexual preference, their age difference, or their previous bonds. No, not everything seems quite fair. But where must fate factor into these things?

Experience is the result of some plan, some destiny, I think. Could a universe so grand and so beautifully coordinated not have a design? I think fate is the entity that directs lives into a particular heading and motion. God, perhaps. Atoms with divine power and purpose. So why the hunger, why the social constructs, why the restrictions of love? I have to believe there is reason for those unfair situations. And reason applied to experience gives way to hope and optimism. 

Some might call this the principle of oppression, where those oppressed are legions more grateful for their freedom, once it is received. Similar to the idea that without sin, there would be no grace. Now, that raises the argument, is sin a good thing? Well I'm not here to debate that. But the idea can be applied to the principle of oppression. Is oppression a good thing if in the end the oppressed can give genuine thanks for their food, their accomplishments, their relationships? Hell, I can't answer that. Should we return to slavery in order to raise up a new generation of emancipated people who will cherish their freedom and change history?

Rather than dwelling on the cycle that the principle creates, let us return to the beauty of fate. Reason. Hope.

Even though I am not always treated fairly...Even though those whom I love are not treated fairly...Even though there are millions of people in the world tonight who are not treated fairly...I have hope that life goes on with a unifying momentum. An incomprehensible cohesiveness.

Take courage, Love. We live together. We experience the world together. We may not be acquainted, but we are humans, and we have come through centuries together. Fate cannot be oppressed, even when we are.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Dreams and Super Novas

Do you ever look at the stars and think...my God...who am I?
The gaseous clouds, the colors...I'm here below and that's okay for now, but I'm not where I want to be and dammit I want to be in the stars. Why can we not have wings, why can we not fly? Purple, orange, maroon and onyx black...where did they come from, so brilliant and bold and beautiful. I think in my mind I have all the galaxies in the universe, in existence. Why can't they be there, unfolding mysteries and questions that roll off my tongue as the comprehensiveness of their being settles inside me. Dreams, yes, dreams come from super novas exploding. They are unfathomably real, yet just beyond the blur of our reality, and so we call them subconscious. But dreams are a part of our being. They do not originate in the air around us, waiting to collide with our minds, no, they originate within us. Super novas.

Life and Some Thoughts

Dear Reader,

Are you near a window? Look outside. Do you see trees, grass, flowers? Look at them.

Those plants are factories of life. As your eye examines the bark, the blades, and the petals, there are mitochondria and chloroplasts and nuclei and vascular systems running throughout those plants, working diligently and dutifully to keep those life forms alive and operating.

Look outside again. Can you see clouds? Can you see the sun? Can you see evidence of wind?

Miraculous. Water molecules bonding in the air. A star centered in our milky galaxy, bursting with energy and expelling plasma and radiation from its surface, while the core of it burns truer than fire or hate. The wind, just think- how long has it been circulating? Is it new wind? Is it the age old breath of life caressing the face of its lover?

Dear Reader, this post is for anyone who is lonely. Anyone who feels unloved. It is for those people for whom peace is an idea that has never lasted long enough to manifest itself in their soul. Is it for you?

I am not in a philosophical mood, nor am I overjoyed about anything. I'm feeling rather ordinary and mundane, as a matter of fact. But I believe that everyone should be given the encouragement and ability to find peace and happiness in all situations.

The trees and the flowers, the wind and the clouds, the creatures, the mountains and valleys and various contours of the land. They are beautiful. They comprise the Earth, the planet we call our own by no rights we have earned. We didn't choose this planet for ourselves. There was no congressional meeting called, no political or social debate that took place where ballots were passed out listing

  • Mercury
  • Venus
  • Earth
  • Mars
  • Jupiter
  • Saturn
  • Uranus
  • Neptune
  • Pluto
"Place a check mark beside the planet you would most like to inhabit. (Pluto is not a definitive option.)"

Reader, take courage from your surroundings! You are blessed with a most gorgeous and complex environment! Life will continue as long as you take one breath in and exhale, one breath in, exhale, breathe in, exhale...

If you're lonely, if you're unloved, if you feel ugly or insignificant, look at the world you live in and know that you are a part of it. You're part of the beautiful creation. Walt Whitman wrote,

"Whoever you are! motion and reflection are especially for you,
The divine ship sails the divine sea for you.

Whoever you are! you are he or she for whom the earth is solid and  liquid,
You are he or she for whom the sun and moon hang in the sky..."

Life is truly extraordinary. Life is beautiful.

Monday, May 14, 2012

Out In The Woods

I sat underneath the shadows of forest limbs, my back against the strong body of a tree. I just sat, staring at the brilliant rainbow music notes flying through the air rustling the leaves. I listened to the stars. And sat. The night air was cool, and I was dressed in warm overalls and a long-sleeved shirt. I'd wrapped a bandanna around my head, just to help with the mood. Though it proved useful in warming my ears as the night went cool.

I'd spent minutes, maybe hours, trying to figure out a way to teleport myself from my seat under the tree to the opening at the entrance of the woods. So far I'd not been able to conquer that talent, but I was determined. As I sat thinking, I heard underbrush moving and ground leaves crush beneath the feet or paws of some creature. My curiosity skyrocketed and left no room for fear. My eyes became hawk-like, narrowing in and focusing on the forest floor beside me. A moment later I saw the thing come into view. It was a rabbit. I was not disappointed that I'd not witnessed the night activity of Big Foot or the Boogie Man, no, I was enthralled. This wild animal actually approached me. I still had teleportation on my mind, but now my thoughts enveloped both subjects as I stared in absolute amazement at the furry little thing beside me. I could have reached out my arm and touched it had I been more agile and the rabbit more non-agile. Damn rabbits. I just watched it, thanking the Creator of such a creature for allowing me such close proximity with the creation. He eventually bounded away into the night and left me to my scientific endeavors. I wished him back, but not everything we thank the Creator for comes around twice.

I looked at the clovers around me. Tiny, green, hell, they were orange and blue for all I could discern. But beautiful. As time passed, I regained my whereabouts and gathered my items- a backpack, a box, and a jacket. The woods were consumed by the nighttime darkness, but I knew the paths well enough to stumble out into the field. I did so, and found myself at the entrance of the woods. I looked over my shoulder at where I'd come from, smiled, and began to laugh aloud. I conquered teleportation.

It would not just be an understatement to say that the moon was full that night. It would be an injustice to the thing itself. The moon shone gloriously between the trees, big as a softball in front of my face. I could see each crater, each shadow, each footprint of a living being that had walked on its surface. I wandered out to the middle of the field where the moon was in plain full view and stood there for over an hour. I looked at the round shining object and conjured theories about how it flew around the planet I was standing on. Did it make four rotations in a day? Did it orbit like the hands on a clock? I stood long enough that I eventually realized I had misplaced my horizon and had miscalculated the moon's shot. I was still coming down.

It was a memorable night for me. No one there to bother my thoughts. Only the moon and me. And the rainbow notes of music that floated through the trees. I've no idea where they came from. But I was glad of their company as opposed to mumbling humans. Earth has so much to offer those who listen and commune with it.

Here's To You

  • When the wardrobe seems empty, wear only a smile.
  • Always carry two writing utensils- a sharpened pencil and an ink pen.
  • Wear black with brown if you want to.
  • I recommend nutella.
  • Know how to fire a gun, and never do it.
  • Don't let others blow on your dice. Too many germs.
  • Light plants.
  • Fishing increases patience levels.
  • Skinny dipping FTW.
  • Close your eyes and breathe. Feel the air in your lungs.
  • When boiling eggs, let them actually boil.
  • Be a damn hippie if you want.
  • Be a damn conservative if you want. Don't judge the hippies.
  • Are you really gonna ride my bumper when I'm already speeding?
  • Take notice of the clouds.
  • I'd give it time.
  • Welcome to the 21st century where we kill trees and babies.
  • Consummate love.
  • When choosing a car, go with economy.
  • When choosing a beard, go with big.
  • Visit the Rocky Mountains.
  • Poetry soothes the soul, I don't care who you are.
  • Always keep a 60 watt light bulb in the pantry and you can't go wrong.

In the mind...

There are certain defenses in our mind. Certain barriers that we build in our subconscious. We are usually unaware of their presence. But they exist.

Tapping into the subconscious mind is not only difficult- it can be painful once your conscience alerts you that the defenses have been breached. Emotions kick in. Confusion escalates. But why? Where did these subconscious defenses come from? Do they originate in the soul? Or are they hidden neurons in your brain that have gone mad?

I locked it away in the box. Susan. You locked it away in the box.

Right here, right now, stop. I dreamed this. I've seen this before. I swear I've been here, looking at these words on this screen, listening to this music, typing...

Am I mad? Am I being influenced by the sound waves penetrating my ear drums and floating through my head? Influence. Madness. Everyone is mad in their own way. You are mad. We will all go into the attic one day. Age is not tolerated. Age is put away in the homes and the "facilities." Do we go madder with age? What if age sees the Earth more clearly? What if age is overwhelmed by its own experience of life and cannot express the grief and the joy that have been thrust into its existence...so age goes mad. What will I be when I have aged?

I wrote on April 13th-

"Madness, madness
Pouring from my pores
Seeping through the sin-stained ligaments
No tears in my eye
No tears in the treacherous corners
Where sadness cannot hide
No, it is inside
Inside this radiant shuttle of life
Dimmed by the shadows
Cast from on high
The righteous look down
They pity, frown
But from the depths of the Earth
Springs new life
True life
Beautiful and self-inspired
This is why I cry"

I am not mad. I burn with passion.
Let me burn. I do not need saving.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Imagine Dragons

Imagine Dragons- Radioactive

Click the link! ^

Imagine Dragons is changing my life.
Not ashamed.
Check out the two songs I've posted.
They are miraculous.

Imagine Dragons

Imagine Dragons- On Top of the World

Click the link! ^

Abstract Science

I've been standing at our front door watching the rain outside and watching the birds alight on the front porch rails. Their bodies are so exquisite. I could see the chest of a mocking bird expand and collapse, expand and collapse, rhythmically, as his head twitched back and forth and as he called out, I assume, to the other birds flying nearby. To think that that bird is alive, breathing, and yet so entirely different from my own species...It has wings where I have arms. Little twig legs where I have muscle and ligaments and joints that comprise my own flesh-covered legs. Though truthfully, I don't know what a bird's legs are made of aside from bone. One moment...

Apparently, a bird's leg consists of the femur (the upper leg) which connects at the knee to the tibiotarsus (the shin) and the fibula (the side of the lower leg). That's all Wikipedia gave me.

But the thought, the very thought, that we are surrounded by thousands of other species on this planet - I can hardly express how incredible I think that is! As humans, we seem to have the notion that we are gods, lording over the other creatures on the earth simply because we can do calculus and paint murals. But we share this planet with so many other living things. I love to sit by my window and watch the rabbits this time of year. They're everywhere, always running through our driveway and along the fence row. I love to watch how they move, how they bound from one spot to another. How they clean themselves with their paws and how they sniff around the grass. It's not that their actions are extraordinary, but they are different from mine, so I take interest in observing them.

Why must rain fall toward the Earth? The science of it makes sense - water molecules gather in the atmosphere and gravity causes them to fall "down". But why is science so concrete? Not that it can be changed. But what if the water molecules gathered nearer to the ground and were then expelled into the atmosphere by a great force? What if the leaves on the trees, rather than blooming from the limbs when the Spring came, imploded into the tree and caused the entire entity to burst into fireworks of color and each leaflet that fell like confetti was the seed that sprouted a new tree? What if droplets of rain stacked into walls of water rather than splattering on impact with the ground? We should be able to make music with raindrops if each one, dependent on its unique volume and shape, creates a different tone when it strikes earth. I imagine we only can't hear it.

Yes, I enjoy observing nature. I am part of nature. I was birthed from nature. Cannot everyone see that? We're not separate from the things around us. We are intricately connected to them. I wonder if atoms know how important they are. How relevant and abundant. When they vibrate in a solid, can they feel each other? When they bombard one another in the air, do they beg pardon for their impact? Let us abstract science and question it. Science is not the god of our universe. It is only the name we've given to the forces and patterns around us. Where does form and matter originate that it takes command from an authority? Is this God? If so, what were his reasons and motivations for organizing those laws and principles of motion? He could have chosen anything. Humans might have flown through time portals and thought the idea of linear movement absurd and almost incomprehensible. What if the day comes when science does change? What if one day we do fly through time portals? What if one day the rain falls up? Will everyone shout, "God"?

One day...

I was taking care of  baby boy today. Eleven months old, malnourished and unable to walk due to neglect from his biological parents, and now the foster child of a family in our church. He is precious. I smile at him and his little face lights up and he giggles. I love to hold him, to love on him and kiss his little cheeks and forehead every time he looks up at me. I've been trying to teach him to walk, and today he stood up by himself, though I kept him balanced with my hands underneath his arms. His head has grown too fast for his body and he often can't hold it up, so I rest my hand behind his head...his little curls are adorable. I tell him, "You're doing it! Big strong boy, you're standing up by yourself!" He'll smile and murmur some gibberish. He'll probably grow up to be a politician or a preacher as much as he tries to talk ;)

Taking care of this little boy has made my heart ache even more for a child of my own. This morning as I sat holding him, he reached out for my breast and instinctively I almost offered it to him, remembering after only a split second that he was not my child, nor was I capable of nursing. I'm only 18. I'm not even sure if a child of eleven months is supposed to be nursed. But I loved that boy. I cannot imagine how much I'll love a child of my own some day. Already I feel bonded with the baby girl or the baby boy that I may have. And I am content to wait. I still have college to experience, years after that to live my life traveling and writing and loving someone. But when the day comes...when I give birth to my child, I want to press him or her against my chest and let that baby know that I would sacrifice my life for it.

Anthony is his name. The boy I cared for today. Anthony. I've no idea what he'll go through as he grows up. If his mother regains custody of him, it's possible he'll have health issues that continue into his adult life. Or perhaps she will love him and better care for him. He'll never remember me. I'll be an unknown face in his dreams. A figure he doesn't think twice about, as I'm sure I don't remember all those who held and loved me when I was a small child. But I hope he grows up and finds happiness. He's such a small human being, but his soul is new and curious about life, just as big as mine, only not as experienced. I wonder where the soul resides. How can you measure it truly? Walt Whitman said, "Was it doubted . . . if the body does not do fully as much as the soul? And if the body were not the soul, what is the soul?"

I love children. They are so new, so curious, so precious. They are not without fault, as I am faulted. They are not snow-covered angels as some poems depict them to be. There is a reason they shout "Mine!" and cry until they receive gratification. But is that not what humans do? Does that not only make them more human? We do not rebuke a child for being human. We discipline them to teach them how to love and be gracious. But their souls burn with as much passion as a grown man or woman's. I remember as child being absolutely enthralled by the stars...I was enthralled by a stick on the ground. I was enthralled by the rocks in our driveway and would sit there for hours picking up each one and turning it over, noting the difference in color and shape and size and texture in each. I collected rocks and sticks. I couldn't collect the stars, so I stared at them. I knew passion. Anthony will know passion if he does not now, but who am I to say that he doesn't?

Saturday, May 12, 2012

Telekinesis IS possible!

We were sitting at the dinner table tonight having super and as usual, I was shaking my legs up and down. It's a thing I do. As I was shaking my legs, I noticed the flowers that were sitting on the table shaking. Here in the 21st century, it's a well-known fact that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction (although I disagree, to a certain extent, when you begin discussing natural forces and where they originate and how a force exerts itself upon an object...though I'm really not knowledgeable enough to speak intelligently about the matter. I could be wrong). Anyhow, I began thinking about where the action originated and what the effects were. It began with my legs, and the vibrations produced from my legs traveled through the wood in my chair to the linoleum floor, up through the wood in the dinner table, into the flower vase, and then bombarded with the flowers. And if you take that a step further, the movement of the flowers caused the air particles surrounding them to move as well, affecting any object within an unknown (to me) radius around them. But really, no. It didn't begin with my legs. It began with the neurons in my brain sending signals to the muscles in my legs that caused them to shake up and down. Now, if you consider that, and follow the trail to the flowers moving, then one can only conclude that by my very own mind power I moved the flowers in the vase. I conquered telekinesis tonight. Thank you.

Letting The Thoughts Roll Out From My Fingers

Funkadelic. Feelin' it? I saw a green t-shirt walking to the mall the other day, and no, I'm not in outer space. Either that rhymed with my previous statement or with the song I'm listening to. Let's feel the beat. Scratched your record? It's okay. Cotton can take care of everything. I'm not sure where I'm headed. It's really up to him, although I'm not sure the clouds have formed yet into the billows and stratus waves they make. This is freedom. Believe me. See? I wonder where color came from. Not where it comes from. We have light and science to tell us where it comes from. But where it came from...I don't know. When the universe boomed, did it explode color before matter? I think the sea is truer than the land. What are you doing with your life? It's important to know. And more blissful not to know. But did I crash? Was I only an accident in the bond of someone else's rings? Please bear with my naked body. I only want to feel the air against me. Can you fall if you're speeding through the doorway? Do we not crash every time we drive our car into another atom floating through the air? Yes, we have all murdered atoms. Without a boom, without a bomb, without a blanket of white and grey ash. Who then are the murderers? I am not Susan Elizabeth Willis. Susan Elizabeth Willis is a name, a jumble of letters to which we assign sounds and meaning and hell, I'm none of those. I am stardust. Am I? Creeping gently the sun came over the planets. They never asked to be bathed, but their presence must have emitted some question. Why did we ever factor ourselves into the world? Are we so particularly here? CD ourself into the train tracks. Lock it away. Hide and seek. But I'm so hungry. For what, no, not here or there or food or knowledge, but all of those things intertwined into an abyss, a beautiful, giant, gaping hole of life. Do not let them judge you. You are perfect in your flaws. It is only those without flaw who are alien. Tears tend to drop in the most awkward places, never so smoothly as we hope. Do you hope? I have ten thousand legions of thoughts ready to fight for me. And still I need someone to carry my weak body through the field. Don't let me go, I say. But they drop me. Where must we go to find redemption? Why should we? It's not so important, I tell you. Not nearly half the galaxy can comprise what exists in your body. A soul. Is it there in you? I feel it for you. Please stay in my arms. I'm begging you. Two fabrics tangled together cannot be meshed. They will always be two fabrics, tangled together. That gives me no comfort, but it does soothe my question. How will we survive when the gods of our time are gone? When our faith shatters from the roofs of conquered edifices? Read to me your mind. Let it ramble out like a turtle flies as fast as he can and no one admires his skills except his kin, his own species. We must unite ourselves. Touch me. Can you? We're separated by two screens and a lifetime. How do we halter time? I wish I could. But it would leave no surprises. Is this what he did, my friend? Did he sit down and explore his mind without reserve? It is dangerous. It is so vulnerable. Bravo, my friend. No one can commend you like the stars do. They shine for you, yes, that is their mission, their pleasure, their command, their grace. They absorb all matter into their one explosion of red and yellow and green and blue and orange and why can I not type the spectrum? I am so limited in my head. Should I ask the gatekeeper to leave his post? Enter into your home. And as soon, leave it and explore. That is my observation of our race. What did you ask? If nothing, begin my entertainment with your own. If I am overbearing, forgive me. I only love you.

Friday, May 11, 2012

Thoughts From The Lawn Mower

Religious leaders, political representatives, school teachers . . . This is how it starts- Here's my philosophy and what I believe and what I think is right and wrong and how we should all be living life because I have the truth. That's how it starts. It's followed up with, "But don't take my word. Research these things for yourself."

I'm calling bull on that one.

No one wants you to think for yourself! What the hell people! Why can we not form our own minds, Why can we not break away from our "foundational beliefs" without being condemned to hell by everyone?

I defy you all. I defy my very life and what it is. I defy my own beliefs with the hope of finding truth. But hell, what is truth? The people I grew up with would stop me there, whip out a Bible, and say, "Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life. How dare you speak so." But I challenge you with this age old statement: Perception is reality. Conviction drives the soul, and the soul must be driven. So we, as humans, seek a conviction to live by, thus often creating faith, and we name it Truth. Your truth is different from my truth. 

And why can't this be so!

What do we know of life? Who are we to define creation and life? No. I cannot. Nor can any other being.
No one wants you to think for yourself. We only want our beliefs to be perpetuated throughout society to make our lives more comfortable and self-gratifying. Oh look, my morals are so high, let me implement them into society. To hell with truth. Perception is reality.

I then ask, what is perception? If I perceive life to be a complex series of dreams and inauthentic layers of brain activity, am I wrong? If another perceives life to be a conscious state of awareness, are they wrong? But how do you define consciousness if each person's perception of what it means to be conscious varies from another? It's when we define things that we lose meaning.

I digress again.

Do not come to me with your system of beliefs, your philosophies, your morals, and explain them to me with your bias permeating each word that drips from your tongue and then tell me not to take your word. No. Because each one of us, consciously or subconsciously, feels that we have the truth and we feel obligated to our fellow humans to "save" them from the falsehood of other paths in life, to "save" them from doing wrong. It seems to be hardwired into us all to impress our beliefs on those around us. I only wish we would not pretend otherwise. Tell me plainly that you wish me to consider your ideas. I will ask you plainly to consider mine.

What are my ideas? My morals? My beliefs?

Still figuring that out.

So far, love is what holds us together. I want love. I want to be loved. I want to give my love to other people. I want to consummate love. I want to create life from love. I want to make someone smile because of my love. But you, reader . . . I am your fellow species. And I am not only of love. I have the capacity to hate and deceive. We are all faulted. But we are all so beautiful in our faults. Because we are all humans, and we are unified in our shared characteristics and desires. 

I want to think. I could spend a lifetime thinking. Please don't oppress me.

Monday, May 7, 2012

Theories of a High School Graduate

I've been thinking - we, as humans, created the concepts of life and death. What we experience here on Earth - work, emotions, pleasure, etc. - we have termed "life". We do not know any existence prior to our maternal birth, nor do we know anything of our existence (or lack thereof) once our bodies cease to operate. We've thus created this binary situation of life and death based solely upon speculation or religious beliefs. Here I pose some questions: What if "life" exists in cycles? Or perhaps not in cycles, but rather as a non-linear journey of some sort? What if there are other forms of existence outside of humanity and our spirit travels through each phase until we reach some climactic revelation? Who are we to define what we do not know? Perhaps our mind is what actually leaves the body and we spend the rest of eternity learning about...about our own faults, glories, capabilities, pleasures...or perhaps there is really only Heaven and Hell. Or perhaps there is only Heaven. And then what about atheists? What if there is nothing? What if we "live", die, and return to the dust, only lingering on in memories and historical contributions? What if we becomes the stars? What if each star in the sky is a human soul burning with passion in the cosmos...

Similarly, who are we to say there are not other universes and other rulers of those universes? I believe in a Creator (and don't really care if you do). I believe in the Creator many people call God. I believe he has complete power over this universe. What if there are more? It would not contradict what he says about being the only god if he is the only god of our universe. But what if there are more universes with more gods and other creatures and beings we know nothing of? Wouldn't that be fantastic?! If the fabric of our existence was equivalent to that of a worm, would we even know? Does the worm look up and say, "My, what gods they are. How wonderful and intelligent!" Of course, I've not the mind of a worm, but I have high doubts that they even realize what a human being is or what we're capable of. What if we're the worms?

Sunday, May 6, 2012

A Democratic Declaration

In a foreign land
Where mind exists under matter
To fly above the wire
Is a sin in the eyes of the self-proclaimed righteous

Colors and rhythms explode
Where the universe implodes in my head
Spin, spin, fly
I have purple fiber optic wings

They do not know me
So their judgments enrage me
Blood pressure rises
Box my head with the fever in my hands

I am mad
Even they think I am mad
But they don't see the madness at night
They don't wander about my mind

Am I meant for this?
Certainly not meant to be alone.
One day I will find those people who are mad like me.
I will be free to speak what I think.
This is no democracy.

favorite quotation

"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 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 observations 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