The Collatz Conjecture is an open unsolved mathematical problem that has currently defied the attempts of the most brilliant mathematicians to solve it.
What is the Collatz Conjecture?
While solving the Collatz Conjecture has shown itself to be next to impossible, understanding the conjecture is easy. The conjecture assumes that any number (given as X) will eventually reach 1 by using the two following rules:
If X is even (X=0 MOD 2) then divide X by 2.
If X is odd (X=1 MOD 2) then triple X and add 1.
Let's start with the number 7. Since it is odd, we use (3x+1) to get 22. 22 is divisible by 2 so we divide it by 2 and get 11. We continue onward with this and get the following numbers:
7, 22, 11, 34, 17, 52, 26, 13, 40, 20, 10, 5, 16, 8, 4, 2, 1
There are several ways one can go about solving or proving a conjecture. We must prove that all numbers (X) WILL eventually reach 1 given this function. However, we could also set out proving that some number (X) cannot reach 1 given this function.
There are also certain ways to find shortcuts to a proof. For instance, if we can prove that X will eventually fall to a number less than itself, we can assume that the conjecture is true. Why? If we start with X and continue testing increasingly larger values of X (i.e. X+1) AND we also can prove that X eventually falls to a number smaller than itself, then we already know that smaller number eventually will fall to 1 since it has previously been tested.
The premise behind the conjecture assumes something very basic. Pay close attention, because this next statement is profound. The Collatz Conjecture assumes that this function for any X will eventually hit A POWER OF 2.
Huh?
Ok, let's look at the function again.
If X is even: {X / 2}
If X is odd : {3X + 1}
Pay close attention to the first part of the function. If X is even, we must divide it by 2. If, however, we begin with any X such that X = (2^Y) then X will instantly fall to 1.
Observe:
X = 64
64,32,16,8,4,2,1
X = 1024
1024, 512, 256, 128, 64, 32, 16, 8, 4, 2, 1
In essense, the road home for any X in the Collatz Conjecture is for the function to eventually arrive at some power of 2. We have just proven the Collatz Conjecture for a subset of all natural numbers -- namely, all X such that X = 2^Y for any Y such that Y is a natural number.
How big is this subset? Well, since Y can be any natural number. Since there are an infinite number of them, we've just proven the Collatz Conjecture for an infinite amount of numbers but that infinity is just a sub-set of the larger infinity (namely, all natural numbers). Woah. Infinity comes in different sizes.
Since it is obvious that if any X arrives at (2^Y) [such that Y is a natural number], then X falls to 1.
Collatz Conjecture -- The Ups and Downs
Some numbers that are small take many iterations until they get to 1. Take a look at the number 27.
27, 82, 41, 124, 62, 31, 94, 47, 142, 71, 214, 107, 322, 161, 484, 242, 121, 364, 182, 91, 274, 137, 412, 206, 103, 310, 155, 466, 233, 700, 350, 175, 526, 263, 790, 395, 1186, 593, 1780, 890, 445, 1336, 668, 334, 167, 502, 251, 754, 377, 1132, 566, 283, 850, 425, 1276, 638, 319, 958, 479, 1438, 719, 2158, 1079, 3238, 1619, 4858, 2429, 7288, 3644, 1822, 911, 2734, 1367, 4102, 2051, 6154, 3077, 9232, 4616, 2308, 1154, 577, 1732, 866, 433, 1300, 650, 325, 976, 488, 244, 122, 61, 184, 92, 46, 23, 70, 35, 106, 53, 160, 80, 40, 20, 10, 5, 16, 8, 4, 2, 1
27 took 111 steps and got as high as 9,232 before reaching 1. Notice also that every number in this sequence has now been proven to reach 1. Pick any number in the sequence and test it. Actually, you don't have to -- just follow the next number in the sequence.
Let's look at the function again more carefully:
X is odd: {3X + 1}
X is even: {X / 2 }
For increasingly larger values of X, the "+1" in {3X+1} becomes irrelevent. Let me make a strong distinction here, though. The +1 is relevent because after applying 3X + 1 to an odd X, the following number IS ALWAYS EVEN. The question, however, is what KIND of even number 3X+1 will fall on. It is definitely some number that is a multiple of
Take for example the number 100. Let's assume 100 was reached by using the function 3X+1 on the number 33. 100 becomes 50 and then 50 becomes 25. Since 100 is the same as (25 * 2^2), we can call 100 a "even2" number. (I just made that up and will make this more mathematically correct when I get the chance, but I am just trying to get some thoughts out quickly.
Alright, now back to the the heart of the matter.
If X is an even number that falls directly to an odd (What I'll term an "even1" number), then we know that the next number will be approximately 1.5x larger than the original X.
Observe:
X = 31
31 -> 94 (even1 number) -> 47
47 is approximately 1.5x larger than 33.
What if, however, X is a number such that 3X+1 results in an even2 natural number? We will, in essence, be increasing X by 3 and then dividing it by 4. This results in a number that is .75X.
Observe:
X = 33
33 -> 100 (even2 number) -> 50 -> 25
25 is approximately 75% of 33.
Alright, let's forget about the Colletz Conjecture for a moment and pretend that all even numbers are just even1 numbers (not true, but this is just pretend). If this were the case, the Collatz Conjecture would be false. Why? Because every time we increased X by 3, we would then decrease by dividing by 2. The numbers would constantly get larger and larger by 150%.
Observe:
X(1) = 20
X(2) = 30
X(3) = 45
etc ...
Obviously this would never get to 1. The conjecture would be proven false easily.
However, let's assume all even numbers were even2 numbers. In this case, each time we increased X by 3, we would then divide it by 4. The result would be an X that eventually decreases to 1 because each consecutive X would be 3/4'ths the previous X.
Observe:
X(1) = 16
X(2) = 12
X(3) = 9
etc ...
Now, let's pretend that half of the even numbers are even1 and the other half are even2 and, statistically speaking, X has an equal chance of falling on either. Over a large trial, we would see X moving up by 150% and subsequently decreasing to 75% of X. Would this series diverge?
X -> 1.5X -> 1.125X
Yes, this series would diverge to infinity because the net result between a large number of even1 and even2 operations would yield an X such that the next average X would be 1.125X
How many even1 numbers are there, though?
Well, let's look at even numbers more closely.
2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14, 16, 18, 20, 22, 24, 26, 28, 30, 32, 34, 36
2 = even1
4 = even2
6 = even1
8 = even3!!!
Woah. Wait. Even3? Yes, 8 is an even3 number. Actually, 8 is a number represented by the function X*(2^3). That's really what an even3 number is. An even2 number is X*(2^2) and an even1 number is X*(2^1).
Alright, enough of the evenX talk. Let's use real mathematics:
...2= 1(2^1)
...4= 1(2^2)
...6= 3(2^1)
...8= 1(2^3)
..10= 5(2^1)
..12= 3(2^2)
..14= 7(2^1)
..16= 1(2^4) [even4 number!]
..18= 9(2^1)
..20= 5(2^4)
..22=11(2^1)
..24= 3(2^3)
..26=13(2^1)
..28= 7(2^2)
..30=15(2^1)
..32= 1(2^5) [even5 number!]
(to be continued ...)
Scratch Pad Stuff:
(3X+1)/2 for all odd X.
Half of all even numbers are X(2^1) where X is odd.
2, 6, 10, 14, 18, 22, 26, 30, 34, 38, 42, 46, 50, etc.
One Quarter of all even numbers are X(2^2) where X is odd.
4, 12, 20, 28, 36, 44, 52, 60, 68, 76, 84, 92, 100, etc.
One Eighth of all even numbers are X(2^3) where X is odd.
8, 24, 40, 56, 72, 88, 104, 120, 136, 152, 178, 194, 210, etc.
Monday, November 5
Friday, November 2
Understanding Space-Time
Understanding Space-Time Part I:
What Exactly *is* the Speed of Light?
One of the hardest concepts to grasp about space-time theory is that time is relative to the observer and is not absolute. The universe as a whole does not follow some "master clock" that encompasses everything.
The speed of light has been measured using various means with significant accuracy. That speed is 186,282 miles per second in a vaccuum. However, that speed is relative to a stationary observer on Earth. How fast would the speed of light appear to be if you trailed behind it at 99% of its speed? It would still appear to leave you at the same speed.
Take another example using the classic unit of measurement to find the distance to a star -- the light year. Suppose that a star was said to be 15 light-years away from Earth. What exactly does that mean? Well, it could mean several things depending on your frame of reference. To the observer on Earth, if a spaceship were to leave and head towards this star at the speed of light, the observer on Earth would notice 15 years later that the spaceship finally made it to that star. What about from the perspective of someone on that ship?
Well, the person on that ship would notice that the trip was instantaneous. How is this possible? How could the ship take both 15 years and, at the same time, get their instantaneously?
The answer lies in something called "relativity."
To be continued ...
What Exactly *is* the Speed of Light?
One of the hardest concepts to grasp about space-time theory is that time is relative to the observer and is not absolute. The universe as a whole does not follow some "master clock" that encompasses everything.
The speed of light has been measured using various means with significant accuracy. That speed is 186,282 miles per second in a vaccuum. However, that speed is relative to a stationary observer on Earth. How fast would the speed of light appear to be if you trailed behind it at 99% of its speed? It would still appear to leave you at the same speed.
Take another example using the classic unit of measurement to find the distance to a star -- the light year. Suppose that a star was said to be 15 light-years away from Earth. What exactly does that mean? Well, it could mean several things depending on your frame of reference. To the observer on Earth, if a spaceship were to leave and head towards this star at the speed of light, the observer on Earth would notice 15 years later that the spaceship finally made it to that star. What about from the perspective of someone on that ship?
Well, the person on that ship would notice that the trip was instantaneous. How is this possible? How could the ship take both 15 years and, at the same time, get their instantaneously?
The answer lies in something called "relativity."
To be continued ...
Tuesday, October 23
Putting up with Time's Bullshit
I am a patient man because I will wait patiently for something worth waiting for (for something for which to wait -- oh screw the ending in a preposition thing). However, I'm growing rather tired of putting up with time's shit. What do I mean? Well, at the risk of sounding like an absurdist or going off on some nihilistic rant, I don't like the fact that time just goes forward while pushing me along with it. I am reluctant to let go of the past. One of my best friends says I have a problem with the past -- that in some ways I live in the past.
After sorting through a bunch of internal issues, I could only conclude that I am temporally (not temporarily) insecure. Part of this stems from having a very strong memory. I can go back in time easily in my head and relive past emotions, past loves and past experiences that brought me happiness with ease. I can remember the sensations of touch, scents and, with perfect clarity, can recall the sights and sounds of moments that filled me with intense happiness.
It would be foolhardy to believe that life was meant to only be a series of moments that were extremely special. Part of what makes a moment special is the uniqueness of that moment compared with the ordinaryness of every other moment. It is the old cliche "in order to fully understand what it means to be hot, one must have once been cold." Now that does not mean that we cannot partially understand the sensation of being hot without suffering from being cold, but the contrast between the two brings a sort of duality of experience into our lives.
I have loved. I have lost. I sat down the other day asking myself over and over, "is having loved and lost better than never having loved at all," really just a bunch of bullshit? So then I thought about it in terms of hot and cold. When one loves another, they are expressing an emotion opposite of hatred. Between these two extremes is the emotion (or arguably the lack thereof) of indifference. Upon meeting someone, we quickly decide whether we will lean towards love or hate -- we seldom remain indifferent towards people.
In that regard, love and hate are balanced perilously on the tip of a needle. When we invite someone into our heart (in terms of a relationship), we open ourselves up to a lot of possible damage. We take these risks through a leap of faith that the rewards will outweigh them. Opening one's heart is a one-way road. Once opened, the Rubicon is crossed while Ceaser marches proudly towards Rome.
So then I thought about the scope of the question. Losing a love recently served as a catalyst for all this thinking. I got mad at time. I got mad at love. I ran out in a rainstorm with a tall metal rod and screamed at God to bring it on. That's what love can do to a man. Anyhow, the question -- is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?
Well, let's look at it from the perspective of time-flow that goes forward (the one we are used to). You meet someone, you fall in love, you make the conscious decision to open your heart, you share happy memories, the shit hits the fan and then you find yourself sitting on a bench in the rain crying your eyes out wondering just what in the hell went wrong. Days go by and you are still feeling the doom and gloom of a lost love. Weeks go by and you feel the after-effects of a broken heart. Months go by and you collect yourself and move on, but you find yourself occasionally thinking about your previous lover. Years go by and all you have is an occasional reminder that sparks a memory and then a quick, "what if," enters the mind and life goes on. However, you are NEVER the same person you were before meeting them.
Now, let's get mad at time. It is time's fault, right? Because at some point in time, he or she loved you and at some point you loved them. There was that magical point where you both loved each other at the same time. That's the special moment that we cherish -- that creeps into our minds when we least expect it. Even though the relationship failed and he or she went on to marry someone else, we carry these memories of what could have been and that seems to satisfy us enough to keep us somewhat happy.
The problem with having a good memory, though, is that sometimes those beautiful moments are very hard to let go. We associate the moment with the person (as we should, since they shared it with us). If we could suddenly flip the lever and send time going backwards, we'd suddenly notice something odd. Buildings springing up instantly while others are slowly disassembled (basically the exact opposite of how things occur in a time-forward viewpoint). We slowly start falling back in love with that special person. Pain slips into confusion while confusion slips back into solid love. Things are great again! Things are exactly as they once were. We are back in those special moments. Hold on, though -- because time isn't stopping! Suddenly we feel the love quickly fade and then suddenly we can't even remember who we were just hugging. All memories of that person are completely erased from existence.
So, going backward in time really solves nothing, because now we're at a greater disadvantage -- we can't even remember the people we had relationships with. So ultimately the solution must be to find a special moment that we treasure and stop time and live in that moment forever. Well, if time really is frozen, how can we really feel anything? How do we grow as a person? We can't grow -- we can't even ungrow -- we just stick. Alright, so freezing time was stupid -- how about we just keep replaying a special moment over and over like an old 8-track. We go through it once and then twice and we are amoured by that special person. Three, four, five and then six times. Sooner or later we suddenly realize that we've run the moment into the ground. I call this the "hot tub" syndrome. Getting into a hot tub feels great for the first minute, but once our body adjusts to the water, it isn't quite as pleasurable. We can't make the water any hotter because we're already at our threshold, so we just have to enjoy the sensation while it lasts because it shortly dies. If you sit in a tub long enough, the water get warm and then cool. Then you step out and start shivering -- hot and cold, love and hate, time running backwards and forwards.
We can't play just one moment that is special over and over, we have to keep finding new moments -- we have to diversify. However, in order for this to happen, there must be some flow of time. We've already determined that a failed relationship is doomed on both ends of time, and moving backwards gives us moments we can cherish yet never remember. The only solution would be for time to move forward -- so that we can both cherish and remember those moments. The echo of that love carries forward in time throughout the rest of our lives. Sure, we will love others, but all of these moments, experiences and echoes eventually make us realize something even greater.
It isn't necessarily loving another that we were only after -- it was learning to love ourselves. To forgive ourselves of the mistakes we made with past lovers -- to forgive them for theirs. It is that marching of time going forward that lends us the opportunity to mend a broken-heart and learn to love again no matter how much pain we experience from a freshly broken one.
Idealistically, I want to say that loving and losing is always better than never having loved at all -- because even if we fail to cultivate the relationship, we have succeeded in learning something greater about ourselves. Ideally, we would recognize those special moments in time when they first started to occur and heighten our awareness of our environment. We would relish the fact that we exist while walking around touching things and staring at different things while thinking, "I am now beginning a special moment, I want to take in as much of this as possible and cement this memory in my heart."
Only then can we move forward and grow as a person when we feel that love continues to fail us. Only then can we learn that love isn't a win or lose proposition, but an eternal learning experience that puts us more in touch with ourselves.
After sorting through a bunch of internal issues, I could only conclude that I am temporally (not temporarily) insecure. Part of this stems from having a very strong memory. I can go back in time easily in my head and relive past emotions, past loves and past experiences that brought me happiness with ease. I can remember the sensations of touch, scents and, with perfect clarity, can recall the sights and sounds of moments that filled me with intense happiness.
It would be foolhardy to believe that life was meant to only be a series of moments that were extremely special. Part of what makes a moment special is the uniqueness of that moment compared with the ordinaryness of every other moment. It is the old cliche "in order to fully understand what it means to be hot, one must have once been cold." Now that does not mean that we cannot partially understand the sensation of being hot without suffering from being cold, but the contrast between the two brings a sort of duality of experience into our lives.
I have loved. I have lost. I sat down the other day asking myself over and over, "is having loved and lost better than never having loved at all," really just a bunch of bullshit? So then I thought about it in terms of hot and cold. When one loves another, they are expressing an emotion opposite of hatred. Between these two extremes is the emotion (or arguably the lack thereof) of indifference. Upon meeting someone, we quickly decide whether we will lean towards love or hate -- we seldom remain indifferent towards people.
In that regard, love and hate are balanced perilously on the tip of a needle. When we invite someone into our heart (in terms of a relationship), we open ourselves up to a lot of possible damage. We take these risks through a leap of faith that the rewards will outweigh them. Opening one's heart is a one-way road. Once opened, the Rubicon is crossed while Ceaser marches proudly towards Rome.
So then I thought about the scope of the question. Losing a love recently served as a catalyst for all this thinking. I got mad at time. I got mad at love. I ran out in a rainstorm with a tall metal rod and screamed at God to bring it on. That's what love can do to a man. Anyhow, the question -- is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?
Well, let's look at it from the perspective of time-flow that goes forward (the one we are used to). You meet someone, you fall in love, you make the conscious decision to open your heart, you share happy memories, the shit hits the fan and then you find yourself sitting on a bench in the rain crying your eyes out wondering just what in the hell went wrong. Days go by and you are still feeling the doom and gloom of a lost love. Weeks go by and you feel the after-effects of a broken heart. Months go by and you collect yourself and move on, but you find yourself occasionally thinking about your previous lover. Years go by and all you have is an occasional reminder that sparks a memory and then a quick, "what if," enters the mind and life goes on. However, you are NEVER the same person you were before meeting them.
Now, let's get mad at time. It is time's fault, right? Because at some point in time, he or she loved you and at some point you loved them. There was that magical point where you both loved each other at the same time. That's the special moment that we cherish -- that creeps into our minds when we least expect it. Even though the relationship failed and he or she went on to marry someone else, we carry these memories of what could have been and that seems to satisfy us enough to keep us somewhat happy.
The problem with having a good memory, though, is that sometimes those beautiful moments are very hard to let go. We associate the moment with the person (as we should, since they shared it with us). If we could suddenly flip the lever and send time going backwards, we'd suddenly notice something odd. Buildings springing up instantly while others are slowly disassembled (basically the exact opposite of how things occur in a time-forward viewpoint). We slowly start falling back in love with that special person. Pain slips into confusion while confusion slips back into solid love. Things are great again! Things are exactly as they once were. We are back in those special moments. Hold on, though -- because time isn't stopping! Suddenly we feel the love quickly fade and then suddenly we can't even remember who we were just hugging. All memories of that person are completely erased from existence.
So, going backward in time really solves nothing, because now we're at a greater disadvantage -- we can't even remember the people we had relationships with. So ultimately the solution must be to find a special moment that we treasure and stop time and live in that moment forever. Well, if time really is frozen, how can we really feel anything? How do we grow as a person? We can't grow -- we can't even ungrow -- we just stick. Alright, so freezing time was stupid -- how about we just keep replaying a special moment over and over like an old 8-track. We go through it once and then twice and we are amoured by that special person. Three, four, five and then six times. Sooner or later we suddenly realize that we've run the moment into the ground. I call this the "hot tub" syndrome. Getting into a hot tub feels great for the first minute, but once our body adjusts to the water, it isn't quite as pleasurable. We can't make the water any hotter because we're already at our threshold, so we just have to enjoy the sensation while it lasts because it shortly dies. If you sit in a tub long enough, the water get warm and then cool. Then you step out and start shivering -- hot and cold, love and hate, time running backwards and forwards.
We can't play just one moment that is special over and over, we have to keep finding new moments -- we have to diversify. However, in order for this to happen, there must be some flow of time. We've already determined that a failed relationship is doomed on both ends of time, and moving backwards gives us moments we can cherish yet never remember. The only solution would be for time to move forward -- so that we can both cherish and remember those moments. The echo of that love carries forward in time throughout the rest of our lives. Sure, we will love others, but all of these moments, experiences and echoes eventually make us realize something even greater.
It isn't necessarily loving another that we were only after -- it was learning to love ourselves. To forgive ourselves of the mistakes we made with past lovers -- to forgive them for theirs. It is that marching of time going forward that lends us the opportunity to mend a broken-heart and learn to love again no matter how much pain we experience from a freshly broken one.
Idealistically, I want to say that loving and losing is always better than never having loved at all -- because even if we fail to cultivate the relationship, we have succeeded in learning something greater about ourselves. Ideally, we would recognize those special moments in time when they first started to occur and heighten our awareness of our environment. We would relish the fact that we exist while walking around touching things and staring at different things while thinking, "I am now beginning a special moment, I want to take in as much of this as possible and cement this memory in my heart."
Only then can we move forward and grow as a person when we feel that love continues to fail us. Only then can we learn that love isn't a win or lose proposition, but an eternal learning experience that puts us more in touch with ourselves.
Thursday, October 18
Underneath a Trillion Stars
There I was sitting atop a hill that overlooks a large city glowing brightly in the night. From the vast distance, the hustle of bodies in the night faded into static. The city, from afar, becomes a vast landscape of tall buildings that hold hundreds of thousands of people.
Each small window holds a story. Behind one, a couple are making love. Behind another, an old man lives alone reading his book before retiring for the night. Yet in another, two lovers meet for the first time while in another window two lovers meet for the last.
As I sat, I closed my eyes while a cool wind crept over my body. I listened but couldn't hear traffic and the blowing of horns -- I was far away from that. A million things were taking place in that city, but with my eyes closed I envisioned a hundred other cities, each with a million different windows that held their own stories.
With my eyes still closed, I wondered what it would be like to be able to hear a billion people all at once. Every conversation that took place across half of the Earth -- would it sound like static? After astounding myself with the thought of how much diversity was present across the world, I then looked up at a trillion stars. How many other Earths were out there? How many windows were there in total throughout the universe?
And then a curious thing happened when I opened my eyes. I saw a rabbit sitting not too far away from me. The rabbit just sat there facing the city. There I was -- alone with a white rabbit on a large hill overlooking an even larger city. What could that rabbit possibly be thinking?
"What in the hell is that man doing just sitting there away from all the other people? What is that man thinking? How many other rabbits are in my forest? How many rabbits are there out there in the universe? Where's my carrot?"
As I sat, I felt a vibration begin in the bottom of my spine and spread out through my body. It caused me to shiver from its energy. I knew that feeling all too well -- it is the feeling of god within my heart giving me a glimpse of infinity. There I sat with my feeble little mind trying to contemplate things that only a god could take in totality.
The rabbit ran off into the woods.
The city grew brighter as my eyes adjusted to the darkness.
"Where did that rabbit run off to," I asked myself.
He ran off into the night. That's when I lied down on that large hill and fell asleep.
That night I dreamt of rabbits, windows, planets, stars and most of all, I dreamt of a love deeper than any love I had felt before.
Each small window holds a story. Behind one, a couple are making love. Behind another, an old man lives alone reading his book before retiring for the night. Yet in another, two lovers meet for the first time while in another window two lovers meet for the last.
As I sat, I closed my eyes while a cool wind crept over my body. I listened but couldn't hear traffic and the blowing of horns -- I was far away from that. A million things were taking place in that city, but with my eyes closed I envisioned a hundred other cities, each with a million different windows that held their own stories.
With my eyes still closed, I wondered what it would be like to be able to hear a billion people all at once. Every conversation that took place across half of the Earth -- would it sound like static? After astounding myself with the thought of how much diversity was present across the world, I then looked up at a trillion stars. How many other Earths were out there? How many windows were there in total throughout the universe?
And then a curious thing happened when I opened my eyes. I saw a rabbit sitting not too far away from me. The rabbit just sat there facing the city. There I was -- alone with a white rabbit on a large hill overlooking an even larger city. What could that rabbit possibly be thinking?
"What in the hell is that man doing just sitting there away from all the other people? What is that man thinking? How many other rabbits are in my forest? How many rabbits are there out there in the universe? Where's my carrot?"
As I sat, I felt a vibration begin in the bottom of my spine and spread out through my body. It caused me to shiver from its energy. I knew that feeling all too well -- it is the feeling of god within my heart giving me a glimpse of infinity. There I sat with my feeble little mind trying to contemplate things that only a god could take in totality.
The rabbit ran off into the woods.
The city grew brighter as my eyes adjusted to the darkness.
"Where did that rabbit run off to," I asked myself.
He ran off into the night. That's when I lied down on that large hill and fell asleep.
That night I dreamt of rabbits, windows, planets, stars and most of all, I dreamt of a love deeper than any love I had felt before.
Saturday, October 13
Inside an old heart
"Did you love her?"
Yes.
"What was it about her that you loved?"
I don't know. It was a "feeling." Not a feeling I get easily. Not a feeling I feel from many women. Yet, when I feel it, I know it and I knew I loved her deeply.
"And this was years ago?"
Yes. Years. A dozen months or hundreds of days. Time doesn't seem to matter when one talks about love. Love stands outside of time. It just sits there patiently in your heart either waiting for you to take action or waiting for you to invoke memories of your inactions. It sits quietly at the seat of your soul.
"So when you think of her today, how does it make you feel inside?"
I feel that love. I can remember the feelings it invoked inside of me. I can remember the first time we held hands -- the first time we kissed. I can remember how that love felt -- the mystery of what would happen next wrapped within the memories of what we shared that previous day. Love had a way of fucking with time -- one hour with her would seem like only a second, yet just minutes of waiting to see her would feel like days of torment. That's how love can fuck with time. When you are at your happiest and with her, it goes all too quickly. Yet when you are apart and waiting to see her next, it feels like an eternity stretched even further.
"Perhaps that is one way to immortality?"
Yes, exactly. Find a way to leave yourself waiting for her forever and time will come to a complete halt. You will, in essence, have found the secret to immortality.
"And when she never comes?"
That's the thing. That's how time seeks revenge for love fucking with it. That's how time then fucks with love. When she's no longer there -- or when she no longer loves you but you still care and love her ... that's time's way of fucking with you eternally. Unrequited love is sickening. It leaves a man forever naked in the depths of his most precious passions. It leaves him crying on the inside while society forces his to posture himself in a stoic fashion on the outside. Yet, all the while, he is thinking of her and missing her.
"Well, they say it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all."
Yes, but on the opposite side of that expression is something far more distressing. It is worse for her to have loved you at one point and then ceased loving you than for her to never have loved you at all.
"What do you mean?"
If she had never loved him, then it would be far easier to reconcile the old memories of wanting her -- of needing to be with her. But much scarier still is the possession of memories of when she did love you and when she did care about you only to face the present and find yourself in a time where she no longer thinks or cares about you. Then you find yourself living in the past and that's a dangerous thing to do.
"You should never live in the past. There is always a tomorrow -- a future."
Yeah, but on a more philisophical level, everything comes to past. Everyone at some point will find themselves on their death bed reliving the most important ... the most precious parts of their lives and wondering what it all meant. The first time they were left alone from their parents. I remember that. I remember nursery school and my mom letting go of my hand and walking away. My entire life, I was near my mother and she would come to me if I cried. Yet that day, I remember quite vividly -- she took me to my first day of school and let go of my hand and said, "I'll see you in a few hours, honey!"
I didn't believe her. I was too young to understand. To a kid, once someone you love leaves your field of view, they're as good as gone. So there I was -- alone. I was alone with a bunch of strangers and this strange adult came up to me. His name was Mr. Leo and I didn't know who this guy was. He held my hand and tried to convince me that I would be alright -- but I cried. I screamed out, "MOMMY!" I didn't want to be left alone. I was scared and felt abandoned. Once my mom crossed the threshold of the doorway and I could no longer see her, I became hysterical. Mr. Leo took me over to a large fishtank and I watched fish swimming while crying my eyes out for over an hour.
"What does this have to do with love?"
Because man, when you love a woman, there is that sense of baring it all to her. You invite her into your life and at some point, you stop being a cocky prick type of guy and you expose your true emotions to her. You show her everything and bare it all and if she decides to stick around -- that's true love. That's the most beautiful thing on Earth -- to be able to find someone out there who will find shit stains on your underwear and not get grossed out about it -- metaphorically speaking of course. Someone who accepts you for who you are and chooses to be with you because they love YOU and not some image of a guy they think they'd want to love. That's beautiful.
"And if they leave?"
I felt like that day when I was three years old and my mom had left me. I felt abandoned, alone and scared. Breaking up is an extremely hard thing to do because it is like losing a piece of your family and a piece of your heart. It's one thing when you go up to a female and ask her out and she says no. That's not really personal -- that's rejection, but it doesn't really hurt. But to give your life, heart and soul to a woman and for her to know your deepest fears and silliest habits and then one day she leaves? That's personal -- that hurts. It's like being three again and watching my mom leave thinking she'll never come back.
"Yeah, but there is always future possibilities -- new loves, new people, new adventures."
Exactly. But at some point you realize you're giving a piece of your heart and soul to every woman that comes into your life. How many pieces total can I give out? Then you have to realize that it becomes a little bit harder to bare it all with the next woman because you know the pain of breaking-up and how much it stings -- it really fucking stings. Your heart learns to be a bit more defensive with each new love -- yet that's fucking stupid because you never know at what point you will meet the woman who will be with you your entire life.
"You can't give up on love ever."
No, you can't. But at the same time, the older you get the more memories you have of women who did mean something to you at some point in your life. And no matter what happens, there is always a piece of you that is thinking of them and a piece of you that still loves them -- or at least loves some earlier memory of them. The heart gets filled up with all these memories of experiences you had with them. There are some memories that are too precious to put into words. Each lover has that one memory that you'll always cherish. It is carved in stone for eternity -- or at least until you die. But there it is, locked deep inside your heart occasionally surfacing when you read a particular story or smell a certain scent.
Love never really dies. People come and go within relationships but that love they share? It never really dies. Love is a lot like water. You can't destory water. You can seperate it -- but there is always an ocean of it out there somewhere waiting for you to dive in and experience more. You'll swim and swim and love it but at some point you have to come out of the pool on a cold day and you're left shaking from the cold -- you know you love to swim, but you realize at some point you'll have to leave the pool and then you'll start shaking. What's the best cure to end the coldness -- to end the shaking? To jump back in the pool -- to stay in the pool forever and never leave it.
That's what love is all about. Finding someone to swim with forever.
Yes.
"What was it about her that you loved?"
I don't know. It was a "feeling." Not a feeling I get easily. Not a feeling I feel from many women. Yet, when I feel it, I know it and I knew I loved her deeply.
"And this was years ago?"
Yes. Years. A dozen months or hundreds of days. Time doesn't seem to matter when one talks about love. Love stands outside of time. It just sits there patiently in your heart either waiting for you to take action or waiting for you to invoke memories of your inactions. It sits quietly at the seat of your soul.
"So when you think of her today, how does it make you feel inside?"
I feel that love. I can remember the feelings it invoked inside of me. I can remember the first time we held hands -- the first time we kissed. I can remember how that love felt -- the mystery of what would happen next wrapped within the memories of what we shared that previous day. Love had a way of fucking with time -- one hour with her would seem like only a second, yet just minutes of waiting to see her would feel like days of torment. That's how love can fuck with time. When you are at your happiest and with her, it goes all too quickly. Yet when you are apart and waiting to see her next, it feels like an eternity stretched even further.
"Perhaps that is one way to immortality?"
Yes, exactly. Find a way to leave yourself waiting for her forever and time will come to a complete halt. You will, in essence, have found the secret to immortality.
"And when she never comes?"
That's the thing. That's how time seeks revenge for love fucking with it. That's how time then fucks with love. When she's no longer there -- or when she no longer loves you but you still care and love her ... that's time's way of fucking with you eternally. Unrequited love is sickening. It leaves a man forever naked in the depths of his most precious passions. It leaves him crying on the inside while society forces his to posture himself in a stoic fashion on the outside. Yet, all the while, he is thinking of her and missing her.
"Well, they say it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all."
Yes, but on the opposite side of that expression is something far more distressing. It is worse for her to have loved you at one point and then ceased loving you than for her to never have loved you at all.
"What do you mean?"
If she had never loved him, then it would be far easier to reconcile the old memories of wanting her -- of needing to be with her. But much scarier still is the possession of memories of when she did love you and when she did care about you only to face the present and find yourself in a time where she no longer thinks or cares about you. Then you find yourself living in the past and that's a dangerous thing to do.
"You should never live in the past. There is always a tomorrow -- a future."
Yeah, but on a more philisophical level, everything comes to past. Everyone at some point will find themselves on their death bed reliving the most important ... the most precious parts of their lives and wondering what it all meant. The first time they were left alone from their parents. I remember that. I remember nursery school and my mom letting go of my hand and walking away. My entire life, I was near my mother and she would come to me if I cried. Yet that day, I remember quite vividly -- she took me to my first day of school and let go of my hand and said, "I'll see you in a few hours, honey!"
I didn't believe her. I was too young to understand. To a kid, once someone you love leaves your field of view, they're as good as gone. So there I was -- alone. I was alone with a bunch of strangers and this strange adult came up to me. His name was Mr. Leo and I didn't know who this guy was. He held my hand and tried to convince me that I would be alright -- but I cried. I screamed out, "MOMMY!" I didn't want to be left alone. I was scared and felt abandoned. Once my mom crossed the threshold of the doorway and I could no longer see her, I became hysterical. Mr. Leo took me over to a large fishtank and I watched fish swimming while crying my eyes out for over an hour.
"What does this have to do with love?"
Because man, when you love a woman, there is that sense of baring it all to her. You invite her into your life and at some point, you stop being a cocky prick type of guy and you expose your true emotions to her. You show her everything and bare it all and if she decides to stick around -- that's true love. That's the most beautiful thing on Earth -- to be able to find someone out there who will find shit stains on your underwear and not get grossed out about it -- metaphorically speaking of course. Someone who accepts you for who you are and chooses to be with you because they love YOU and not some image of a guy they think they'd want to love. That's beautiful.
"And if they leave?"
I felt like that day when I was three years old and my mom had left me. I felt abandoned, alone and scared. Breaking up is an extremely hard thing to do because it is like losing a piece of your family and a piece of your heart. It's one thing when you go up to a female and ask her out and she says no. That's not really personal -- that's rejection, but it doesn't really hurt. But to give your life, heart and soul to a woman and for her to know your deepest fears and silliest habits and then one day she leaves? That's personal -- that hurts. It's like being three again and watching my mom leave thinking she'll never come back.
"Yeah, but there is always future possibilities -- new loves, new people, new adventures."
Exactly. But at some point you realize you're giving a piece of your heart and soul to every woman that comes into your life. How many pieces total can I give out? Then you have to realize that it becomes a little bit harder to bare it all with the next woman because you know the pain of breaking-up and how much it stings -- it really fucking stings. Your heart learns to be a bit more defensive with each new love -- yet that's fucking stupid because you never know at what point you will meet the woman who will be with you your entire life.
"You can't give up on love ever."
No, you can't. But at the same time, the older you get the more memories you have of women who did mean something to you at some point in your life. And no matter what happens, there is always a piece of you that is thinking of them and a piece of you that still loves them -- or at least loves some earlier memory of them. The heart gets filled up with all these memories of experiences you had with them. There are some memories that are too precious to put into words. Each lover has that one memory that you'll always cherish. It is carved in stone for eternity -- or at least until you die. But there it is, locked deep inside your heart occasionally surfacing when you read a particular story or smell a certain scent.
Love never really dies. People come and go within relationships but that love they share? It never really dies. Love is a lot like water. You can't destory water. You can seperate it -- but there is always an ocean of it out there somewhere waiting for you to dive in and experience more. You'll swim and swim and love it but at some point you have to come out of the pool on a cold day and you're left shaking from the cold -- you know you love to swim, but you realize at some point you'll have to leave the pool and then you'll start shaking. What's the best cure to end the coldness -- to end the shaking? To jump back in the pool -- to stay in the pool forever and never leave it.
That's what love is all about. Finding someone to swim with forever.
Thursday, October 4
Poem
Between the old oak tree and large grey rock,
Through trodden fields that glistened with spring's dew,
there is a place within my weathered soul,
of old memories being close to you.
As the sun melted yellow down the sky,
Between old branches gentle soft winds blew,
and there you sat close to me through the night
heads resting together as darkness grew.
Deep in your eyes was a place of refuge,
Deeper was your soul that would go to any length,
To the depths of your heart to give me strength,
A realization of love that softly sang.
Despite years creeping into tomorrow,
The future springs wept cold rains of sorrow,
As a divide grew between our two souls,
That left shattered emotions full of holes.
I traveled to that place where the hill dips,
my eyes shut, I can feel the brush of your lips,
The air, silent, blows a kiss across my face
as memories of you cause my heart to race.
My eyes open as night has befallen day,
As I sit there longing for some way to say,
I miss your breath and passion and all the while,
I'd walk these fields again for a thousand miles.
Through trodden fields that glistened with spring's dew,
there is a place within my weathered soul,
of old memories being close to you.
As the sun melted yellow down the sky,
Between old branches gentle soft winds blew,
and there you sat close to me through the night
heads resting together as darkness grew.
Deep in your eyes was a place of refuge,
Deeper was your soul that would go to any length,
To the depths of your heart to give me strength,
A realization of love that softly sang.
Despite years creeping into tomorrow,
The future springs wept cold rains of sorrow,
As a divide grew between our two souls,
That left shattered emotions full of holes.
I traveled to that place where the hill dips,
my eyes shut, I can feel the brush of your lips,
The air, silent, blows a kiss across my face
as memories of you cause my heart to race.
My eyes open as night has befallen day,
As I sit there longing for some way to say,
I miss your breath and passion and all the while,
I'd walk these fields again for a thousand miles.
Saturday, September 1
No Headline fits ...
Every once in a while, I'll sit down at the computer and decide that I want to make a blog entry. Some of them (or most) are just rambling stream of consciousness exercises that I'll hastily grammar and spell check. Actually, I don't really even spell check all of them. Anyway, let's just get into this one ...
I spent an hour today talking to a long-lost friend (Lynnea). It was so great to hear her voice and to catch up with her. I've known her for five years but I have only met her once -- yet she is one of the most important people in my life. I consider her to be like family to me. We have had so many wonderful conversations together. Some were philosophical and some were just purely comical. She is, by and far, the most amazing woman I've ever known. That's ridiculous, right? I've only met her once in person -- how could she really mean that much to me? I'd have to step back and put my emotions into perspective. I would have to describe in words the nearly impossible to put into words emotions that I feel when I think of her.
The one thing that I treasure most about her is that we have a very deep friendship based on trust and respect. I have always reserved my emotions of love when it comes to women because I have trust issues. However, she is the one woman in my life that I completely trust. To be honest, it feels so overwhelmingly pure and amazing to be able to have just one woman out there who I could tell anything to and not feel embarrassed or ashamed.
Unfortunately, I've made mistakes that have hurt her in one way or another. They were stupid mistakes that were unintentional, since I would never intentionally hurt her or even risk any action that would make her cry or feel emotional pain. I am human and make some very human mistakes, obviously.
Unfortunately when I try to write about emotions, I generally fail miserably. My biggest fear is the inability to put the feelings I have in my heart into words and, in the process, degrading those emotions and feelings. Some things simply cannot be put into words.
She is an amazing woman. I wouldn't hesitate in any decision with respect to spending the rest of my life with her. On a spiritual level, I will always be there for her and with her in some aspect.
Throughout history, there have always been stories of two people who have always had a very deep spiritual bond. Some of the people in those stories didn't wind up getting married or spending their lives together in that capacity. As a spiritual person myself, I believe there are levels of love that go even deeper than the human concept of marriage. Many would disagree with me, obviously. I don't see *this* life as the only mode of existence.
Well, I really must work on my ability to be a bit more concise with my writing because I don't know exactly what I am trying to say. I guess what I really want to say is that I do love her with all my heart and that it makes me feel wonderful. She does make me happy, even if we aren't able to see each other. That's a pretty powerful statement. Even considering all the times I go out and all the women I meet and have some relationship with, Lynnea fills my heart with something much more powerful and potent than any girl I've met or dated in person.
I'm sure I am a tad bit on the insane side. Most of my closest friends realize this. A lot of people would consider me to be a hopeless romantic. Actually, I'm just a complex person with a huge heart. I love humanity -- I love making people laugh and smile.
Even though I write in a blog, I consider myself on many levels to be a private man. There are things about me that only a few people know. Lynnea is one of them. I would tell her anything. If she needed someone to hug her, I'd be on the first flight out to Colorado. Just for a hug. Perhaps I am crazy, but there is such an overwhelming beauty to that aspect of insanity. What guy would go through all that trouble just to give someone a hug if she needed one?
I have done a lot of traveling and will continue to do even more, but in all of my travels I will never meet someone as amazing, beautiful and precious as Lynnea.
She's just a beautiful woman with an immense heart.
I spent an hour today talking to a long-lost friend (Lynnea). It was so great to hear her voice and to catch up with her. I've known her for five years but I have only met her once -- yet she is one of the most important people in my life. I consider her to be like family to me. We have had so many wonderful conversations together. Some were philosophical and some were just purely comical. She is, by and far, the most amazing woman I've ever known. That's ridiculous, right? I've only met her once in person -- how could she really mean that much to me? I'd have to step back and put my emotions into perspective. I would have to describe in words the nearly impossible to put into words emotions that I feel when I think of her.
The one thing that I treasure most about her is that we have a very deep friendship based on trust and respect. I have always reserved my emotions of love when it comes to women because I have trust issues. However, she is the one woman in my life that I completely trust. To be honest, it feels so overwhelmingly pure and amazing to be able to have just one woman out there who I could tell anything to and not feel embarrassed or ashamed.
Unfortunately, I've made mistakes that have hurt her in one way or another. They were stupid mistakes that were unintentional, since I would never intentionally hurt her or even risk any action that would make her cry or feel emotional pain. I am human and make some very human mistakes, obviously.
Unfortunately when I try to write about emotions, I generally fail miserably. My biggest fear is the inability to put the feelings I have in my heart into words and, in the process, degrading those emotions and feelings. Some things simply cannot be put into words.
She is an amazing woman. I wouldn't hesitate in any decision with respect to spending the rest of my life with her. On a spiritual level, I will always be there for her and with her in some aspect.
Throughout history, there have always been stories of two people who have always had a very deep spiritual bond. Some of the people in those stories didn't wind up getting married or spending their lives together in that capacity. As a spiritual person myself, I believe there are levels of love that go even deeper than the human concept of marriage. Many would disagree with me, obviously. I don't see *this* life as the only mode of existence.
Well, I really must work on my ability to be a bit more concise with my writing because I don't know exactly what I am trying to say. I guess what I really want to say is that I do love her with all my heart and that it makes me feel wonderful. She does make me happy, even if we aren't able to see each other. That's a pretty powerful statement. Even considering all the times I go out and all the women I meet and have some relationship with, Lynnea fills my heart with something much more powerful and potent than any girl I've met or dated in person.
I'm sure I am a tad bit on the insane side. Most of my closest friends realize this. A lot of people would consider me to be a hopeless romantic. Actually, I'm just a complex person with a huge heart. I love humanity -- I love making people laugh and smile.
Even though I write in a blog, I consider myself on many levels to be a private man. There are things about me that only a few people know. Lynnea is one of them. I would tell her anything. If she needed someone to hug her, I'd be on the first flight out to Colorado. Just for a hug. Perhaps I am crazy, but there is such an overwhelming beauty to that aspect of insanity. What guy would go through all that trouble just to give someone a hug if she needed one?
I have done a lot of traveling and will continue to do even more, but in all of my travels I will never meet someone as amazing, beautiful and precious as Lynnea.
She's just a beautiful woman with an immense heart.
Saturday, August 25
Mental Illness and Creativity
I can only assume I must suffer from some mental illness because I seem to be far different from others. Whereas most other people seem content to allow themselves to settle into some comfort zone in their life, I am constantly pushing the envelope, breaking through boundaries and exploring deeper aspects of existence.
I am never content. I feel this deep desire to constantly know more about the world. Unfortunately, in my process of learning more, I also learn that there is ten times more that I don't know. In essence, my pursuit for knowledge is the constant realization that the world -- the universe -- is an exponential downward spiral of continuously expanding and ever deepening knowledge. This morning I wanted to look up one thing on Wikipedia. However, I found myself three hours later looking up a few dozen more articles that were related to the original by a string of almost irrelevant connections.
I accept the fact that I am most likely mad. I occasionally hear voices from the shadows. I hear my name being called a lot. If I were slowly slipping into the depths of insanity, I would have to admit that there is a rather romantic side to that fall. I have been told most of my life from counselors and teachers that I am very passionate about knowledge. I spent the better half of my time in nursery school running around the playground trying to find the heir to King George III because someone had whispered that there was nobility present on the playgrounds. When I was a toddler, I remember this being called "lala" visiting me. It was a small, microphone shaped being that would ask me questions about my time on Earth, etc.
If I do suffer from some type of mental illness, it would make sense. The people I respect most in history all had to fight demons. Van Gogh, as gifted as he was, constantly battled depression and the pangs of insanity. However, his mental illness was most likely the source of his extreme creativity. I am also extremely creative, but look at the world very differently from most people.
My mind constantly races with thoughts and ideas. Even during college, I would completely zone out during a lecture and start constructing the most beautiful and eloquent ideas only to be interrupted with, "JASON! HELLO? It's your turn to read, buddy!" I would be the source of laughter all too often throughout highschool because of my eccentric ways.
Sadly, most people don't seem to appreciate the diversity of knowledge, the compassion of shared experiences and the silly nature of existence itself. I've been called weird, eccentric, stupid, crazy, arrogant, egotistical, cocky, stubborn and a host of other adjectives because of misinterpretations of my being. I have a handful of friends who do know me on a deeper level and know that I would give every last penny that I owned and every last bead of sweat or tear to help another person in a time of need.
I'm just weird. I have accepted who I am. It seems to create a great divide among the people that know me. I either have extremely loyal friends or extremely determined enemies, but there is very little in between. I guess that means I may be doing something right. I would never want anyone who meets and gets to know me to develop neutral feelings. I respect those who fiercely hate me as much as those who adamantly love me.
I am who I am. Bill Cosby once said, "I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is to try to please everyone." That statement holds a lot of truth. You have to be willing to be the person that you are -- including all your faults along with your best traits. Those who remain your friends are there for you for your entire life. Those who choose to be your enemy most likely do so because they see some aspect within you that reminds them of some aspect of them -- and some people aren't as comfortable with carrying imperfections as someone who is -- let's just say ... bordering on insanity.
If and when the time comes, I'll cross that line. The world possesses infinite beauty. At some point, a mind capable of perceiving infinity will try to do so and that is the moment when someone tries to wear the shoes of God and trips violently on his own face.
I am never content. I feel this deep desire to constantly know more about the world. Unfortunately, in my process of learning more, I also learn that there is ten times more that I don't know. In essence, my pursuit for knowledge is the constant realization that the world -- the universe -- is an exponential downward spiral of continuously expanding and ever deepening knowledge. This morning I wanted to look up one thing on Wikipedia. However, I found myself three hours later looking up a few dozen more articles that were related to the original by a string of almost irrelevant connections.
I accept the fact that I am most likely mad. I occasionally hear voices from the shadows. I hear my name being called a lot. If I were slowly slipping into the depths of insanity, I would have to admit that there is a rather romantic side to that fall. I have been told most of my life from counselors and teachers that I am very passionate about knowledge. I spent the better half of my time in nursery school running around the playground trying to find the heir to King George III because someone had whispered that there was nobility present on the playgrounds. When I was a toddler, I remember this being called "lala" visiting me. It was a small, microphone shaped being that would ask me questions about my time on Earth, etc.
If I do suffer from some type of mental illness, it would make sense. The people I respect most in history all had to fight demons. Van Gogh, as gifted as he was, constantly battled depression and the pangs of insanity. However, his mental illness was most likely the source of his extreme creativity. I am also extremely creative, but look at the world very differently from most people.
My mind constantly races with thoughts and ideas. Even during college, I would completely zone out during a lecture and start constructing the most beautiful and eloquent ideas only to be interrupted with, "JASON! HELLO? It's your turn to read, buddy!" I would be the source of laughter all too often throughout highschool because of my eccentric ways.
Sadly, most people don't seem to appreciate the diversity of knowledge, the compassion of shared experiences and the silly nature of existence itself. I've been called weird, eccentric, stupid, crazy, arrogant, egotistical, cocky, stubborn and a host of other adjectives because of misinterpretations of my being. I have a handful of friends who do know me on a deeper level and know that I would give every last penny that I owned and every last bead of sweat or tear to help another person in a time of need.
I'm just weird. I have accepted who I am. It seems to create a great divide among the people that know me. I either have extremely loyal friends or extremely determined enemies, but there is very little in between. I guess that means I may be doing something right. I would never want anyone who meets and gets to know me to develop neutral feelings. I respect those who fiercely hate me as much as those who adamantly love me.
I am who I am. Bill Cosby once said, "I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is to try to please everyone." That statement holds a lot of truth. You have to be willing to be the person that you are -- including all your faults along with your best traits. Those who remain your friends are there for you for your entire life. Those who choose to be your enemy most likely do so because they see some aspect within you that reminds them of some aspect of them -- and some people aren't as comfortable with carrying imperfections as someone who is -- let's just say ... bordering on insanity.
If and when the time comes, I'll cross that line. The world possesses infinite beauty. At some point, a mind capable of perceiving infinity will try to do so and that is the moment when someone tries to wear the shoes of God and trips violently on his own face.
Wednesday, August 22
Evil Beyond Recognition
I just have to comment on just how absolutely soulless and immensely evil some of these barbarians are within Iraq. I read this article on CNN recently:
http://www.cnn.com/2007/WORLD/meast/08/22/iraq.boy/index.html
They basically grabbed a five year old kid and doused him with fuel and set him on fire. He is disfigured for life.
On a more fundamental level, I have a hard time understanding how anyone could do this. This goes beyond robbing a bank to get money because someone is greedy or needs a fix. This goes well beyond anything that serves some sort of egotistical purpose at the expense of another. This is pure hatred and evil simmering in the heart of some individual.
It pisses me off to no end when I see his picture. A part of me wants to obliterate the entire region and start fresh but that would put me in the same category as the attackers. Try as I might to wrap my mind around such evil, I can not comprehend it. I can not understand it. I can only accept that humanity is capable of the most horrendous acts. It scares the shit out of me to think that there are people in this world who could do this. It makes me re-evaluate how G-d might view humanity as a whole.
One can ask forgiveness for their own shortcomings and sins, but shit like this makes me want to fall on my knees and ask for forgiveness for the whole of humanity. We're all in this together and shit like this just begs for an explanation but completely lacks one. It is hallow and empty. It is absolutely sickening and scary.
So very sad.
God, please forgive humanity for falling so very far from your grace. It would take infinite compassion to even begin to forgive such acts. I often wonder if there is any scale capable of measuring the amount of love that would be needed to offset such incredible evil. There are good people and there are those who would give everything to a stranger in need because, deep down, they do understand the nature of love and the sense of community within humanity. But this? This is not the work of a man, but of a machine without remorse or spiritual comprehension of his actions. I just need to understand but, in the end, I must accept that in this world -- in this life -- total understanding is beyond my grasp.
http://www.cnn.com/2007/WORLD/meast/08/22/iraq.boy/index.html
They basically grabbed a five year old kid and doused him with fuel and set him on fire. He is disfigured for life.
On a more fundamental level, I have a hard time understanding how anyone could do this. This goes beyond robbing a bank to get money because someone is greedy or needs a fix. This goes well beyond anything that serves some sort of egotistical purpose at the expense of another. This is pure hatred and evil simmering in the heart of some individual.
It pisses me off to no end when I see his picture. A part of me wants to obliterate the entire region and start fresh but that would put me in the same category as the attackers. Try as I might to wrap my mind around such evil, I can not comprehend it. I can not understand it. I can only accept that humanity is capable of the most horrendous acts. It scares the shit out of me to think that there are people in this world who could do this. It makes me re-evaluate how G-d might view humanity as a whole.
One can ask forgiveness for their own shortcomings and sins, but shit like this makes me want to fall on my knees and ask for forgiveness for the whole of humanity. We're all in this together and shit like this just begs for an explanation but completely lacks one. It is hallow and empty. It is absolutely sickening and scary.
So very sad.
God, please forgive humanity for falling so very far from your grace. It would take infinite compassion to even begin to forgive such acts. I often wonder if there is any scale capable of measuring the amount of love that would be needed to offset such incredible evil. There are good people and there are those who would give everything to a stranger in need because, deep down, they do understand the nature of love and the sense of community within humanity. But this? This is not the work of a man, but of a machine without remorse or spiritual comprehension of his actions. I just need to understand but, in the end, I must accept that in this world -- in this life -- total understanding is beyond my grasp.
Words of Wisdom (A collection of Business Wisdom from Great People)
(will add new stuff as I pick up more pearls)
When dealing with contracts, ask only three things and leave the details to the lawyers.
Also, if both parties feel as though they got screwed, it was probably a good deal.
When dealing with contracts, ask only three things and leave the details to the lawyers.
How much?
How long?
and how do I get out?
Also, if both parties feel as though they got screwed, it was probably a good deal.
Sunday, August 19
Life is Filled with Amazing Pleasures
Yesterday while I was in downtown Annapolis, I decided to buy a nice cigar. I don't usually smoke cigars, but for some reason I wanted one. I wanted a a cigar while enjoying a nice Brandy. Brandy and cigars go together like so many other great things -- wine and cheese, bread and butter, etc.
I thought to myself, "what happened to old the old school traditions? Why can't we bring them back?" It would be so cool to have a nice cigar and brandy party, complete with Texas Hold 'em poker and a lot of great friends to enjoy the night with. Why not splurge a little and go for the very best cigars and brandy? I am determined to have a cigar and brandy party sometime soon. There really isn't anything better in life than getting all of your best friends together, having a room fill up with the smells of expensive cigars and having bottles of brandy to last throughout a few hundred rounds of poker.
Brandy is short for brandywine and is from the dutch word "brandewijn" or "burnt wine." It is basically wine that has been distilled with an alcohol content of between 40 and 60% (80 to 120 proof). Usually brandy is made from grape wine and is generally considered to be an "after dinner" drink. An example of a nice but expensive bottle of brandy is calvados Pays D'Auge.
A cigar is simply a tightly rolled up bundle of dried and fermented tobacco. It comes from the Spanish word "cigarro." There is a rich history surrounding the traditions associated with smoking cigars. Many times, people would buy a cigar and keep it with the intention of smoking it after winning a bet or accomplishing some major feat. The expression, "close, but no cigar," has its roots in this tradition.
I have never routinely smoked cigars, but I generally smoke one during some large event. The last time I enjoyed a good cigar was after my grandmother's funeral. The men in the family got together and we all purchased cigars and lit up together to honor her life -- just as my grandfather would have done had he still been alive. It feels enriching to be able to carry on a tradition within the family, since my grandfather was a cigar and pipe lover. I had never really smoked a cigar before that time. I remember thinking, "no wonder my grandfather loved smoking cigars so much -- it really is nice!" Ahhh, the ebb and flow of life.
So, I would like to organize some interesting parties -- parties with themes in them. It is a lot of fun going out and getting drunk with friends but I want to do more upscale partying.
I have put together a list of different parties I'd like to organize:
Cigar, brandy and poker party.
Wine and cheese party (complete with various types of wine and delicious styles of cheese)
A Mardi Gras mask party (fancy faces party).
A Custom party
I don't think all of my friends would be interested in these type of parties. I have a pretty ecclectic group of friends. Some are more into culture and arts while the others are more into ... the art of drinking endlessly at a cheap bar with a Natty in one hand and a shot in the other.
If you have any ideas for a fun party theme, please let me know!
I thought to myself, "what happened to old the old school traditions? Why can't we bring them back?" It would be so cool to have a nice cigar and brandy party, complete with Texas Hold 'em poker and a lot of great friends to enjoy the night with. Why not splurge a little and go for the very best cigars and brandy? I am determined to have a cigar and brandy party sometime soon. There really isn't anything better in life than getting all of your best friends together, having a room fill up with the smells of expensive cigars and having bottles of brandy to last throughout a few hundred rounds of poker.
Brandy is short for brandywine and is from the dutch word "brandewijn" or "burnt wine." It is basically wine that has been distilled with an alcohol content of between 40 and 60% (80 to 120 proof). Usually brandy is made from grape wine and is generally considered to be an "after dinner" drink. An example of a nice but expensive bottle of brandy is calvados Pays D'Auge.
A cigar is simply a tightly rolled up bundle of dried and fermented tobacco. It comes from the Spanish word "cigarro." There is a rich history surrounding the traditions associated with smoking cigars. Many times, people would buy a cigar and keep it with the intention of smoking it after winning a bet or accomplishing some major feat. The expression, "close, but no cigar," has its roots in this tradition.
I have never routinely smoked cigars, but I generally smoke one during some large event. The last time I enjoyed a good cigar was after my grandmother's funeral. The men in the family got together and we all purchased cigars and lit up together to honor her life -- just as my grandfather would have done had he still been alive. It feels enriching to be able to carry on a tradition within the family, since my grandfather was a cigar and pipe lover. I had never really smoked a cigar before that time. I remember thinking, "no wonder my grandfather loved smoking cigars so much -- it really is nice!" Ahhh, the ebb and flow of life.
So, I would like to organize some interesting parties -- parties with themes in them. It is a lot of fun going out and getting drunk with friends but I want to do more upscale partying.
I have put together a list of different parties I'd like to organize:
Cigar, brandy and poker party.
Wine and cheese party (complete with various types of wine and delicious styles of cheese)
A Mardi Gras mask party (fancy faces party).
A Custom party
I don't think all of my friends would be interested in these type of parties. I have a pretty ecclectic group of friends. Some are more into culture and arts while the others are more into ... the art of drinking endlessly at a cheap bar with a Natty in one hand and a shot in the other.
If you have any ideas for a fun party theme, please let me know!
Wednesday, August 15
Recovering from an Accident
On Tuesday, I went to work -- just like I do on any other normal Tuesday. However, this particular Tuesday would prove to be very different than most. I left work around 9:30am to get some breakfast because I had a lot of work ahead of me and needed the boost in energy. My plan was to skip lunch and just crunch numbers throughout most of the day.
I purchased an egg biscuit and an orange juice from Chick-Fil-A and headed back to work. What happened next was a bit fuzzy to me but I can remember most of it. I was sitting still in my car (an RX-8 which is heavy and low to the ground) waiting to make a left turn onto the street that lead to our Annapolis warehouse. I was sitting there waiting for traffic from the other side of the street to pass. What happened next was easily the most traumatic impact I have ever felt in my life.
I heard what sounded like a stick of dynamite exploding in my backseat. I remember feeling this intense wave of energy just pass through the car. My car was picked up and thrown across the road while doing a complete 180. Apparently, a 76 year old woman was driving a 2007 Corolla and ran into the back of my car without even attempting to stop (there were no skid marks on the road).
As my car was spinning, I felt time slow down. I didn't understand what was happening or why everything in my car was flying in various directions. My cell phone, which had been in my side holster on my hip, was thrown into the back seat. CD's that were up on my visor had been thrown out and shattered throughout the car. When my car finally came to a stop, I remember blacking out for a few seconds. I felt very dizzy and disoriented. My heart-rate then went through the roof and I began to panic, but I couldn't really move. I caught the car that had hit me slowly rolling to a stop behind me with anti-freeze and another liquid pouring out onto the road. I was worried about the other driver and decided to get out of my car. I suddenly felt very dizzy and started to black out again. I didn't realize it, but my head had been thrown back with amazing force. I started to lose consciousness and was afraid I wouldn't be able to control my car from drifting backwards down the large hill.
A man came up to my window seconds later and opened my passenger door. "Are you alright," he asked, but I didn't respond for some reason. I was totally confused and disoriented. "We've called 911, don't move -- an ambulance is on the way."
In what seemed like mere seconds, I saw multiple firetrucks and a paramedic unit arrive. An EMT came up to my driver side and asked if I was hurt. At this point, I started to regain most of my senses. "I'm hurt," I said. He called over to another EMT and said something about getting a neck brace and loading me into the back.
He started asking me some questions about who I was, where I was and what had happened. I knew who I was obviously but I wasn't very sure about what had happened. I remember looking at him and suddenly getting worried that they would forget about my egg biscuit and orange juice. "Please one of you guys eat my breakfast -- I don't want it to go to waste!" The EMT started laughing. "Don't worry, we'll take care of you."
I remember them opening up my front door and back suicide door. They brought a board over and attached a brace to my neck. He then started pulling me out of the car and placed me on the board. They then started placing straps around my body and began taping my head down to the board. After a minute or two, I couldn't move at all. I was completely taped down. I remember looking up and realizing how immensely bright it was in the sky. There were no clouds, the weather was nice and it was just beautiful. I remember squinting at the sun wondering if I was going to be alright. I didn't know if I was paralyzed or what was wrong with me. They asked me if I was bleeding anywhere and I told them that I didn't know. I didn't feel any pain at all because my body was in shock.
They loaded me into the back of the ambulance and began asking me questions. I answered some of them coherently and apparently gave some off the wall answers to some other questions.
"Do you know what day it is?"
"Of course, it is Monday, August 14, 2007."
"Well, you got one out of two right. Not bad."
I remember thinking to myself that I had too much work to get done and that I needed to get out of the ambulance and go back to work. I started to freak out and told them that I didn't have time to go to the hospital -- that I had too much work. The EMT told me I was free to go if I could get out of the straps. Obviously, that wasn't happening because I was completely tied up. He started joking with me about it and we joked back and forth for a bit.
"Do you know where you are, sir?"
"Heaven? And you're all angels, right? We're driving to a strip club?"
He told one of the guys to mark down on the paperwork that my sense of humor was still very much intact. The EMT took my blood pressure and told me that it was pretty high. I told him that it is always high anytime I am near anything related to a hospital. He said not to worry and that they see it all the time when people are in shock.
They unloaded me and began rolling me down long hallways. I started laying down a bunch of one-liners at this point. "Hey, I feel like I'm watching ER!" A few doctors overheard me and laughed. One said, "we've got a comedian this morning!" They stopped me in the middle of a hallway and the EMT guy started talking to a trauma doctor.
"We have a 30 year old male involved in an automobile accident. Neck trauma and upper-back trauma, appears to have lost consciousness several times. Blood pressure is high and heartbeat is extremely high. No past history of any major medical conditions. Blah blah blah ."
"Good morning Mr. Baumgartner, how are you today?"
"You know, you guys need to put artwork on the ceiling for people like me. Counting holes gets old after awhile. Did you know that each of these tiles has exactly 739 holes?"
To be continued shortly ...
I purchased an egg biscuit and an orange juice from Chick-Fil-A and headed back to work. What happened next was a bit fuzzy to me but I can remember most of it. I was sitting still in my car (an RX-8 which is heavy and low to the ground) waiting to make a left turn onto the street that lead to our Annapolis warehouse. I was sitting there waiting for traffic from the other side of the street to pass. What happened next was easily the most traumatic impact I have ever felt in my life.
I heard what sounded like a stick of dynamite exploding in my backseat. I remember feeling this intense wave of energy just pass through the car. My car was picked up and thrown across the road while doing a complete 180. Apparently, a 76 year old woman was driving a 2007 Corolla and ran into the back of my car without even attempting to stop (there were no skid marks on the road).
As my car was spinning, I felt time slow down. I didn't understand what was happening or why everything in my car was flying in various directions. My cell phone, which had been in my side holster on my hip, was thrown into the back seat. CD's that were up on my visor had been thrown out and shattered throughout the car. When my car finally came to a stop, I remember blacking out for a few seconds. I felt very dizzy and disoriented. My heart-rate then went through the roof and I began to panic, but I couldn't really move. I caught the car that had hit me slowly rolling to a stop behind me with anti-freeze and another liquid pouring out onto the road. I was worried about the other driver and decided to get out of my car. I suddenly felt very dizzy and started to black out again. I didn't realize it, but my head had been thrown back with amazing force. I started to lose consciousness and was afraid I wouldn't be able to control my car from drifting backwards down the large hill.
A man came up to my window seconds later and opened my passenger door. "Are you alright," he asked, but I didn't respond for some reason. I was totally confused and disoriented. "We've called 911, don't move -- an ambulance is on the way."
In what seemed like mere seconds, I saw multiple firetrucks and a paramedic unit arrive. An EMT came up to my driver side and asked if I was hurt. At this point, I started to regain most of my senses. "I'm hurt," I said. He called over to another EMT and said something about getting a neck brace and loading me into the back.
He started asking me some questions about who I was, where I was and what had happened. I knew who I was obviously but I wasn't very sure about what had happened. I remember looking at him and suddenly getting worried that they would forget about my egg biscuit and orange juice. "Please one of you guys eat my breakfast -- I don't want it to go to waste!" The EMT started laughing. "Don't worry, we'll take care of you."
I remember them opening up my front door and back suicide door. They brought a board over and attached a brace to my neck. He then started pulling me out of the car and placed me on the board. They then started placing straps around my body and began taping my head down to the board. After a minute or two, I couldn't move at all. I was completely taped down. I remember looking up and realizing how immensely bright it was in the sky. There were no clouds, the weather was nice and it was just beautiful. I remember squinting at the sun wondering if I was going to be alright. I didn't know if I was paralyzed or what was wrong with me. They asked me if I was bleeding anywhere and I told them that I didn't know. I didn't feel any pain at all because my body was in shock.
They loaded me into the back of the ambulance and began asking me questions. I answered some of them coherently and apparently gave some off the wall answers to some other questions.
"Do you know what day it is?"
"Of course, it is Monday, August 14, 2007."
"Well, you got one out of two right. Not bad."
I remember thinking to myself that I had too much work to get done and that I needed to get out of the ambulance and go back to work. I started to freak out and told them that I didn't have time to go to the hospital -- that I had too much work. The EMT told me I was free to go if I could get out of the straps. Obviously, that wasn't happening because I was completely tied up. He started joking with me about it and we joked back and forth for a bit.
"Do you know where you are, sir?"
"Heaven? And you're all angels, right? We're driving to a strip club?"
He told one of the guys to mark down on the paperwork that my sense of humor was still very much intact. The EMT took my blood pressure and told me that it was pretty high. I told him that it is always high anytime I am near anything related to a hospital. He said not to worry and that they see it all the time when people are in shock.
They unloaded me and began rolling me down long hallways. I started laying down a bunch of one-liners at this point. "Hey, I feel like I'm watching ER!" A few doctors overheard me and laughed. One said, "we've got a comedian this morning!" They stopped me in the middle of a hallway and the EMT guy started talking to a trauma doctor.
"We have a 30 year old male involved in an automobile accident. Neck trauma and upper-back trauma, appears to have lost consciousness several times. Blood pressure is high and heartbeat is extremely high. No past history of any major medical conditions. Blah blah blah ."
"Good morning Mr. Baumgartner, how are you today?"
"You know, you guys need to put artwork on the ceiling for people like me. Counting holes gets old after awhile. Did you know that each of these tiles has exactly 739 holes?"
To be continued shortly ...
Sunday, August 12
"Get OFF the Parking Meter!"
My life has recently taken a turn for the more chaotic. I now officially go out basically every night and know way too many people by name. I know homeless people on a first name basis because I've stumbled out and sat next to them to chit-chat while trying to sober up.
Last night was no exception to the increase in craziness. One of my favorite bartenders named Kim got me a few rounds of Vodka. This was on top of everything else I had been drinking since 3pm. Who goes out to start drinking at 3pm on a Saturday unless they're going to a baseball or football game?
By the time the end of the night rolled by, one of the girl's I was with had a run in with one of her ex-boyfriends. It was nasty, so I left the bar and decided to check my car. I noticed I had a ticket on it because the parking meter was totally screwed up. For once, I actually paid attention to the times and put the right amount of money in the meter, but the city still fucked me. I got upset and jumped on top of the meter while shaking it.
I heard over a bullhorn, "GET OFF THE PARKING METER!" It was an Annapolis City cop -- shit. Well, I wasn't about to stop then, so I started slapping the meter while screaming, "WHO'S YOUR DADDY, WHOOOOOOO'S YOUR DADDY!" The cop then said, "GET *****OFF****** OF THE PARKING METER!" I climbed down and started walking down the street. I knew I wasn't about to drive anywhere now because the cop knew who I was.
The cop got out and asked me why I was smacking the parking meter. I recognized the cop vaguely. "I got screwed by a broken parking meter and I was just taking out my anger." He told me I could explain it to the judge. Who goes to court for a parking ticket? Yeah, right. The cop was cool and didn't arrest me for sexually assaulting a parking meter. Had the cop not been there, that parking meter would have gotten it good.
Just another night in nap town.
Last night was no exception to the increase in craziness. One of my favorite bartenders named Kim got me a few rounds of Vodka. This was on top of everything else I had been drinking since 3pm. Who goes out to start drinking at 3pm on a Saturday unless they're going to a baseball or football game?
By the time the end of the night rolled by, one of the girl's I was with had a run in with one of her ex-boyfriends. It was nasty, so I left the bar and decided to check my car. I noticed I had a ticket on it because the parking meter was totally screwed up. For once, I actually paid attention to the times and put the right amount of money in the meter, but the city still fucked me. I got upset and jumped on top of the meter while shaking it.
I heard over a bullhorn, "GET OFF THE PARKING METER!" It was an Annapolis City cop -- shit. Well, I wasn't about to stop then, so I started slapping the meter while screaming, "WHO'S YOUR DADDY, WHOOOOOOO'S YOUR DADDY!" The cop then said, "GET *****OFF****** OF THE PARKING METER!" I climbed down and started walking down the street. I knew I wasn't about to drive anywhere now because the cop knew who I was.
The cop got out and asked me why I was smacking the parking meter. I recognized the cop vaguely. "I got screwed by a broken parking meter and I was just taking out my anger." He told me I could explain it to the judge. Who goes to court for a parking ticket? Yeah, right. The cop was cool and didn't arrest me for sexually assaulting a parking meter. Had the cop not been there, that parking meter would have gotten it good.
Just another night in nap town.
Something Greater than Just "This"
I am a firm believer that life is more than just a fluke of physics that conveniently allowed for our existance yet mistakenly neglected a higher purpose for it. I do believe in a god and I do believe in the importance and value of love. In fact, I believe in these two things so much that I can "feel" it deep within the core of my being.
Lately, I have had a lot of dreams that have proven to be immensely valuable. A few days ago, I had a dream where I was facing a dark dirty door in a pitch black area. At the top of the door was an area that a "being" touched. This area suddenly grew into a brilliant shade of light similar to an emerald green orb. Suddenly we were thrown high into the sky where another orb of emerald green light was present. When the being touched this orb, a string of magnificent green light connected the two orbs.
At this point, I realized what it was. It was a string that I could follow down into a mine. It was a string that would lead me down to the miners that were trapped. I grabbed hold of this brightly glowing green string and felt myself penetrating the earth. I went deep inside the Earth but found nothing. I was greatly depressed for some reason, because I knew in my heart that the miners were dead (at least in my dream).
When I woke up the next morning, the first article I saw on CNN.com's main page was this:
http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/08/09/sanchez.trapped/index.html
The title of the article was "Frustrated family of miner clings to 'one string of hope'." At first, I felt an immense shocked. I wanted to cry, because in some way, God had given me such an immensely emotional dream and then gave me something to confirm (at least to me) that this dream was very symbolic. That brightly colored green string in my dream was the "string of hope" in the article. I realized at that moment that I was given a very unique gift from God. I knew in my heart that the miners were dead, but that they were now with God.
In fact, my entire life has been filled with things like this that I could not explain or even bother telling other people. Most people would assume I was making these things up or, worse still, experiencing psychotic episodes. I have experienced out-of-body sensations for a long time but I've only told my closest friends about them. Most people would assume I was crazy for having these experiences.
I have had other close encounters that have left me face to face with God. I experienced a bit of a drug overdose once that left me in a room that turned mostly grey. I felt my body beginning to shut down but I also felt an overwhelming sense of compassion, love and understanding. I also felt a strong sense of dissappointment on a subconscious level. I remember laying on the floor and having my entire room turn inside out until all I saw what was a very soft and warm light. It was mostly grey, but I remember the distinct feeling of being embraced by love and understanding. I had made a mistake and this being (God?) was projecting a strong sense of dissappointment that was tempered with an infinite amount of love.
There are times when I wish I didn't know these things. I wish I hadn't taken such strong drugs in my past that showed me a vast area of reality outside of what most people understand as everyday reality. I wish I hadn't met God on such a personal level because then I wouldn't feel such an immense amount of responsibility. I can't take things like money, power or fame seriously anymore. The only thing I can take seriously is the importance of love and showing compassion towards others. In the end, it is the only thing worth giving to others.
Sadly, most people on Earth don't understand this. Perhaps it isn't sad, though -- because they aren't faced with such a huge burden. What burden is that? Well, every time I read the news about a killing or a suicide bombing, I feel it. I feel the weight of the world on my soul -- I feel the dissappointment as man falls from the grace of God. I feel overwhelming sorrow at a world filled with such ignorance and evil. In essence, not only do I feel the need to repent for my own transgressions and sins, but I feel the need to repent for those of all humanity. I can feel God's sorrow every time someone kills another or hurts someone else.
There are times when I just can't take the overwhelming amount of emotions and I just want to shut down or escape it all. Yet, I only see a minor fraction of what God can see -- and that must be so painful for God to witness. I wish humanity, on a whole, could rise above greed and ignorance and realize the importance of expressing love towards others.
I go to work every day because I have to make money to survive. Yet, all the money in the world doesn't come close to the feeling of giving someone else unexpected love and showing them that, despite being mere animals, we possess the ability to rise above our physical limitations and embrace the most important aspects of life and living.
Every day I have to struggle with the knowledge that there is so much more than what we see and understand while also accepting that I will always live in a world where most people are incapable of seeing past the physical aspects of humanity.
Lately, I have had a lot of dreams that have proven to be immensely valuable. A few days ago, I had a dream where I was facing a dark dirty door in a pitch black area. At the top of the door was an area that a "being" touched. This area suddenly grew into a brilliant shade of light similar to an emerald green orb. Suddenly we were thrown high into the sky where another orb of emerald green light was present. When the being touched this orb, a string of magnificent green light connected the two orbs.
At this point, I realized what it was. It was a string that I could follow down into a mine. It was a string that would lead me down to the miners that were trapped. I grabbed hold of this brightly glowing green string and felt myself penetrating the earth. I went deep inside the Earth but found nothing. I was greatly depressed for some reason, because I knew in my heart that the miners were dead (at least in my dream).
When I woke up the next morning, the first article I saw on CNN.com's main page was this:
http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/08/09/sanchez.trapped/index.html
The title of the article was "Frustrated family of miner clings to 'one string of hope'." At first, I felt an immense shocked. I wanted to cry, because in some way, God had given me such an immensely emotional dream and then gave me something to confirm (at least to me) that this dream was very symbolic. That brightly colored green string in my dream was the "string of hope" in the article. I realized at that moment that I was given a very unique gift from God. I knew in my heart that the miners were dead, but that they were now with God.
In fact, my entire life has been filled with things like this that I could not explain or even bother telling other people. Most people would assume I was making these things up or, worse still, experiencing psychotic episodes. I have experienced out-of-body sensations for a long time but I've only told my closest friends about them. Most people would assume I was crazy for having these experiences.
I have had other close encounters that have left me face to face with God. I experienced a bit of a drug overdose once that left me in a room that turned mostly grey. I felt my body beginning to shut down but I also felt an overwhelming sense of compassion, love and understanding. I also felt a strong sense of dissappointment on a subconscious level. I remember laying on the floor and having my entire room turn inside out until all I saw what was a very soft and warm light. It was mostly grey, but I remember the distinct feeling of being embraced by love and understanding. I had made a mistake and this being (God?) was projecting a strong sense of dissappointment that was tempered with an infinite amount of love.
There are times when I wish I didn't know these things. I wish I hadn't taken such strong drugs in my past that showed me a vast area of reality outside of what most people understand as everyday reality. I wish I hadn't met God on such a personal level because then I wouldn't feel such an immense amount of responsibility. I can't take things like money, power or fame seriously anymore. The only thing I can take seriously is the importance of love and showing compassion towards others. In the end, it is the only thing worth giving to others.
Sadly, most people on Earth don't understand this. Perhaps it isn't sad, though -- because they aren't faced with such a huge burden. What burden is that? Well, every time I read the news about a killing or a suicide bombing, I feel it. I feel the weight of the world on my soul -- I feel the dissappointment as man falls from the grace of God. I feel overwhelming sorrow at a world filled with such ignorance and evil. In essence, not only do I feel the need to repent for my own transgressions and sins, but I feel the need to repent for those of all humanity. I can feel God's sorrow every time someone kills another or hurts someone else.
There are times when I just can't take the overwhelming amount of emotions and I just want to shut down or escape it all. Yet, I only see a minor fraction of what God can see -- and that must be so painful for God to witness. I wish humanity, on a whole, could rise above greed and ignorance and realize the importance of expressing love towards others.
I go to work every day because I have to make money to survive. Yet, all the money in the world doesn't come close to the feeling of giving someone else unexpected love and showing them that, despite being mere animals, we possess the ability to rise above our physical limitations and embrace the most important aspects of life and living.
Every day I have to struggle with the knowledge that there is so much more than what we see and understand while also accepting that I will always live in a world where most people are incapable of seeing past the physical aspects of humanity.
Wednesday, August 8
The Three Great Separators
I've often thought, with regards to love, what the biggest separators are for two people. I tried to reduce it to as small of a list as possible while still encompassing all the different and possible variables.
The three great separators of love are space, time and emotions. Obviously, space is self-explanatory. If you are distanced from someone you love, it becomes more tying and difficult to express your love for them. Space creates a barrier for intimacy.
The second great separator of love is time. Time is unique because it represents the constant flux that occurs in a relationship. A relationship, by definition, is a union between two people. However, people are constantly in a state of slow and gradual change. Sometimes two people will change together in a common direction, but more often two people will develop greater differences that force them to constantly re-evaluate their relationship. The fact that we loved someone years ago will never change, yet it still stands that we obviously do not love them as much or in the same way as we once did -- hence time pushes all things in various directions and those directions are not always the same. Even the smallest angle will eventually push the end points of two rays millions of miles apart.
The third great separator of love is emotion. Although two people might be close both in space and time, emotions are not always there. Perhaps one person loves another a little more than the other loves them. Perhaps one loves the other slightly before the other started loving them (emotion and time). Unrequited love is painful, though. Perhaps the other is in a relationship while the other is single. There are a million different reasons why emotions might not be present. Perhaps time will change that, or a change in proximity.
Well, those are the three great separators of love.
The three great separators of love are space, time and emotions. Obviously, space is self-explanatory. If you are distanced from someone you love, it becomes more tying and difficult to express your love for them. Space creates a barrier for intimacy.
The second great separator of love is time. Time is unique because it represents the constant flux that occurs in a relationship. A relationship, by definition, is a union between two people. However, people are constantly in a state of slow and gradual change. Sometimes two people will change together in a common direction, but more often two people will develop greater differences that force them to constantly re-evaluate their relationship. The fact that we loved someone years ago will never change, yet it still stands that we obviously do not love them as much or in the same way as we once did -- hence time pushes all things in various directions and those directions are not always the same. Even the smallest angle will eventually push the end points of two rays millions of miles apart.
The third great separator of love is emotion. Although two people might be close both in space and time, emotions are not always there. Perhaps one person loves another a little more than the other loves them. Perhaps one loves the other slightly before the other started loving them (emotion and time). Unrequited love is painful, though. Perhaps the other is in a relationship while the other is single. There are a million different reasons why emotions might not be present. Perhaps time will change that, or a change in proximity.
Well, those are the three great separators of love.
Monday, August 6
What is Sexiness?
Growing up, mainstream society forced a certain impression of "sexiness" down my throat. Ads featuring beautiful, skinny and flawless women could be found everywhere -- billboards, television commercials, magazines, newspapers, bus-stop areas, etc. Sexiness was always something physical and skin deep. It was something only your eyes could enjoy.
However, as I got older, I realized that I had been deceived by clever marketing and misleading subliminal suggestions. Yes, skin does sell products, but in the process of dipping waist deep into consumerism, I neglected the essense of true sexiness. So, I spent some time thinking about what exactly sexy represents and compiled a list.
Sexiness is waking up next to a woman wearing no makeup and having her smile at you with complete self-confidence in who she is as a woman.
Sexiness is realizing that you love someone deeper than the texture of their skin and the growing wrinkles near their eyes.
Sexiness is admitting your imperfections in a way that makes you seem more perfect.
Sexiness is holding her hand at a random moment because you want her to know that you love her and are thinking of her.
Sexiness is learning to laugh together at life's wacky randomness, and not fearing to cry in front of her when life wacks you too hard.
Sexiness is knowing that you won't always say the right things, but realizing that sometimes it is just your voice she needs to hear.
Sexiness is going to a new place together without any pre-arranged plans because you want to experience something new and exciting with just her.
Sexiness is sharing a glass of wine together in silence while taking a bubblebath together while she leans back against you.
Sexiness is getting mud all over your face and having her give you a big hug because she loves you more than she hates getting mud on her face.
Sexiness is never letting go when it sometimes hurts a lot to hold on -- it is the essence of learning to forgive and forget because the two of you are only young souls wrapped in human faults.
Sexiness is inventive. Sexiness is adventurous. Sexiness is spontaneous. Sexiness is expressive. Sexiness is raw.
Most importantly, sexiness is a feeling and not an ad.
Jesus Falls to the Floor
During the wedding, we had communion. Also known as the Eucharist, communion is basically a Catholic tradition of fulfillment of the instructions given in Corinthians 11:24-25. During the Last Supper, Jesus gave his disciples pieces of bread while saying, "this is my body." He also passed around a cup, telling the disciples that "this is my blood."
The word "Eucharist" has its roots in the Greek word "Eucharistia" which roughly translates to thanksgiving. Eucharist is generally viewed as a sacrament by Catholics and as an ordinance by Protestants.
With that aside, I remember once while participating in the sacrament of communion (Catholic Church), I dropped the piece of bread on the floor. I was absolutely mortified -- I had dropped Jesus. Remembering the ubiquitous "five second rule," I realized if I acted quickly enough, I could save that piece of Jesus and still eat it without getting sick. As I reached down to pick it up, the father said, "No!" Why? It was only two or three seconds at most. A piece of Jesus was laying on the floor next to me. It was a perfect moment to symbolize that, yes, Jesus could rise again -- right into my mouth.
The father picked up that particular piece of Jesus and shoved another piece directly into my mouth. It was so unexpected that I started gagging and choking. Would a piece of Jesus now kill me? I didn't have time to react by chewing, I merely swallowed that piece of Jesus whole and grabbed the cup from the father and downed the entire thing.
If I was going to fuck up communion, I was going to do it in style.
The word "Eucharist" has its roots in the Greek word "Eucharistia" which roughly translates to thanksgiving. Eucharist is generally viewed as a sacrament by Catholics and as an ordinance by Protestants.
With that aside, I remember once while participating in the sacrament of communion (Catholic Church), I dropped the piece of bread on the floor. I was absolutely mortified -- I had dropped Jesus. Remembering the ubiquitous "five second rule," I realized if I acted quickly enough, I could save that piece of Jesus and still eat it without getting sick. As I reached down to pick it up, the father said, "No!" Why? It was only two or three seconds at most. A piece of Jesus was laying on the floor next to me. It was a perfect moment to symbolize that, yes, Jesus could rise again -- right into my mouth.
The father picked up that particular piece of Jesus and shoved another piece directly into my mouth. It was so unexpected that I started gagging and choking. Would a piece of Jesus now kill me? I didn't have time to react by chewing, I merely swallowed that piece of Jesus whole and grabbed the cup from the father and downed the entire thing.
If I was going to fuck up communion, I was going to do it in style.
Sunday, August 5
Marriage and Catholic Weddings
My best friend got married yesterday. While in the wedding, I had to stand for a good hour while various portions of the ceremony played out. When I saw the bride start to walk down the isle, I was hit by an overwhelming amount of emotions.
I have known Aaron since we were little kids. We have been through hell and back together, lived together for a few years, traveled to Amsterdam and London, been to countless parties -- Yadda yadda, but now he is married. I'm not sure I really understand it, but I am happy for him. It is strange that all of closest friends save for one are all married -- except me.
The father was a very intelligent man. We spent some time during the rehearsal dinner talking about the Schism, King George and anti-popes, etc. I myself am not Catholic but I do know quite a bit about the religion. Standing in the Loyola Alumni Chapel was impressive - it is a beautiful church. It was quite the experience.
Truthfully, I am not myself lately and I don't know why. Although I've had a great week (New York City with a good friend, countless parties, a wedding, etc.), I feel very disconnected from things. I believe part of that feeling stems from the fact that I am just exhausted, having averaged only a few hours of sleep per night over the past week.
My friend that I took to NYC flew home today. She is quite an amazing person. It has been quite a while since I've hung out with a woman who is genuine and up front without any pretense or bullshit. That was a relaxing change of pace from what I've been used to. She will be greatly missed.
"Pull yourself together, Jason! You're not even the one getting married!"
I have known Aaron since we were little kids. We have been through hell and back together, lived together for a few years, traveled to Amsterdam and London, been to countless parties -- Yadda yadda, but now he is married. I'm not sure I really understand it, but I am happy for him. It is strange that all of closest friends save for one are all married -- except me.
The father was a very intelligent man. We spent some time during the rehearsal dinner talking about the Schism, King George and anti-popes, etc. I myself am not Catholic but I do know quite a bit about the religion. Standing in the Loyola Alumni Chapel was impressive - it is a beautiful church. It was quite the experience.
Truthfully, I am not myself lately and I don't know why. Although I've had a great week (New York City with a good friend, countless parties, a wedding, etc.), I feel very disconnected from things. I believe part of that feeling stems from the fact that I am just exhausted, having averaged only a few hours of sleep per night over the past week.
My friend that I took to NYC flew home today. She is quite an amazing person. It has been quite a while since I've hung out with a woman who is genuine and up front without any pretense or bullshit. That was a relaxing change of pace from what I've been used to. She will be greatly missed.
Wednesday, August 1
Five Thousand Billion Trillion Quintrillion Experiences
How many moments in our lives would we define as an "experience?" What exactly is an "experience?" Can an experience be defined by a unit of time? Is it possible to have an experience last just one second that is more powerful than an experience that lasts for hours? Are experiences based in objective reality or are experiences based on a more personal and subjective reality?
On a more metaphysical level, I have often asked myself if objective reality even exists? I know that a wall will always cause me physical pain if I run towards it at full speed. All the believing in the world won't allow me to run through the wall, but quantum mechanics does suggest that there is a very very slim chance I could do just that. In fact, quantum particles "tunnel" through obstacles all the time. However, the "macro-world" is far different than the quantum one.
The "many worlds interpretation" of reality states that if an event is possible, it does occur but that all possible occurrences force the universe to branch off into an almost infinite amount of other universes that can account for all possibilities. If that were so, would all the concentration in the world force me into a universe where I win the lotto or can run through a wall?
I've often thought about quantum mechanics and how it could relate to love -- probably much too esoteric for most people to swallow over a nice dinner. What I have often wondered is whether MWI (Many Worlds Interpretation) and quantum mechanics can prove that true love exists. In some universe that constantly branches off into others, there does exist a copy of me that has carried on beautiful relationships with every one of my ex's. Statistically though, love is bound to die at some point. We all are forced away from one another through this constant branching and splitting of possibilities.
Yet, if MWI is real, why does my consciousness exist in these particular universes? If I would rather be with someone I once loved, why wouldn't my consciousness choose to follow those branches? Perhaps it is either because MWI is false or that consciousness is much more complex than we realize.
I did notice something though during a recent trip to New York City (which I will blog about at some point). I realized that experiences are the spice of life. We don't necessarily have to have permanence in our lives to enjoy the diversity of experiences. In fact, such a permanence might very well become detrimental to our growth. Let's face facts -- pain is horrible but a necessary condition for growth. Without pain, we would never understand another person's pain or suffering. Our pain makes us more compassionate and empathetic towards others. Pain also forces us to realize a contrast to pleasure. Quite simply, without suffering emotional and physical pain, we would never truly appreciate moments of blissful pleasures.
I also don't think love has to necessary be eternal -- but I do believe that we constantly experience aspects and facades of love to better understand how to love ourselves more completely. I do believe there will always be a wall, even if only a millimeter thick, between two lovers. No matter how close they feel that they have become, there will always remain some gap or distance between them -- and that gap is a part of the pain of being human. We think impure thoughts, lust inappropriately and contemplate the most hideous of things. This is a part of being human -- human nature. The important thing is learning not to act on those impulses, to rise above the animalistic instincts, and to show compassion towards others and remorse when we have erred.
At some point, I do believe everyone experiences a very intense moment. It may be fleeting or seem ever-lasting, but in the big scheme of things, it is only temporary. However, in that moment, we as humans experience an aspect of infinity. We cross the boundaries of every possible universe and swing across each moment in time and arrive at a singularity of intense passion and love. At some point in our lives, no matter how quick in time that moment is, we experience a greater and more uplifting experience that transcends mere emotions and forces us to accept that we are so very very small while so very very important.
On a more metaphysical level, I have often asked myself if objective reality even exists? I know that a wall will always cause me physical pain if I run towards it at full speed. All the believing in the world won't allow me to run through the wall, but quantum mechanics does suggest that there is a very very slim chance I could do just that. In fact, quantum particles "tunnel" through obstacles all the time. However, the "macro-world" is far different than the quantum one.
The "many worlds interpretation" of reality states that if an event is possible, it does occur but that all possible occurrences force the universe to branch off into an almost infinite amount of other universes that can account for all possibilities. If that were so, would all the concentration in the world force me into a universe where I win the lotto or can run through a wall?
I've often thought about quantum mechanics and how it could relate to love -- probably much too esoteric for most people to swallow over a nice dinner. What I have often wondered is whether MWI (Many Worlds Interpretation) and quantum mechanics can prove that true love exists. In some universe that constantly branches off into others, there does exist a copy of me that has carried on beautiful relationships with every one of my ex's. Statistically though, love is bound to die at some point. We all are forced away from one another through this constant branching and splitting of possibilities.
Yet, if MWI is real, why does my consciousness exist in these particular universes? If I would rather be with someone I once loved, why wouldn't my consciousness choose to follow those branches? Perhaps it is either because MWI is false or that consciousness is much more complex than we realize.
I did notice something though during a recent trip to New York City (which I will blog about at some point). I realized that experiences are the spice of life. We don't necessarily have to have permanence in our lives to enjoy the diversity of experiences. In fact, such a permanence might very well become detrimental to our growth. Let's face facts -- pain is horrible but a necessary condition for growth. Without pain, we would never understand another person's pain or suffering. Our pain makes us more compassionate and empathetic towards others. Pain also forces us to realize a contrast to pleasure. Quite simply, without suffering emotional and physical pain, we would never truly appreciate moments of blissful pleasures.
I also don't think love has to necessary be eternal -- but I do believe that we constantly experience aspects and facades of love to better understand how to love ourselves more completely. I do believe there will always be a wall, even if only a millimeter thick, between two lovers. No matter how close they feel that they have become, there will always remain some gap or distance between them -- and that gap is a part of the pain of being human. We think impure thoughts, lust inappropriately and contemplate the most hideous of things. This is a part of being human -- human nature. The important thing is learning not to act on those impulses, to rise above the animalistic instincts, and to show compassion towards others and remorse when we have erred.
At some point, I do believe everyone experiences a very intense moment. It may be fleeting or seem ever-lasting, but in the big scheme of things, it is only temporary. However, in that moment, we as humans experience an aspect of infinity. We cross the boundaries of every possible universe and swing across each moment in time and arrive at a singularity of intense passion and love. At some point in our lives, no matter how quick in time that moment is, we experience a greater and more uplifting experience that transcends mere emotions and forces us to accept that we are so very very small while so very very important.
Sunday, July 22
Compassion Part II
I am having a little trouble falling asleep, so I will take the time to write about a dream I had last night. It is symbolic to me in several ways.
In my dream, I was situated on top of a large hill that overlooked a beautiful city. I was looking out through a window into a large backyard area with a very nice pool and statues that surrounded the pool. The dream was very vivid and real -- a lucid dream that I have occasionally. A person came up next to me and smiled and said, "isn't it beautiful? This is one of the most beautiful cities in the world." I asked her what city it was and she replied, "It is beautiful San Francisco."
It was at this point that I realized I was within a dream, but I decided to go outside to explore the city. It was interesting to explore a city within a dream that I have yet to visit in real life. I remember the streets were filled with people and that there were large ports near the ocean area. The sky was completely clear, the sun was shining and the air was clean and dry. I inhaled deeply and began riding a bike down one of the streets while observing the people.
"So this is what west coast people are like," I remember thinking to myself. Something about the dream went further than just my mind's illusion of what I thought San Francisco would actually look and feel like in real life. There was a lot of emotion within the dream -- I felt a sense of freedom and excitement to be able to travel and visit a new place. Even though it was just a dream, it was amazingly detailed and filled with subjective material of great personal significance.
I want to share something with you that means a lot to me. Deep within my heart, I feel an intense passion and desire to travel. My last trip took me to Denver, Colorado, which I found to be an exciting and vibrant place. Denver is a beautiful city and definitely a place I could see myself living in at some future point in my life. The glorious mountain spans, the clean air, the endless activities in which to engage like skiing, white water rafting and hiking.
The world is such a large place. There are more than six billion people in the world. There are hundreds of moderately sized cities throughout seven different continents. There are adventures ready to invigorate the soul while saturating one's senses and desires. There are hundreds upon hundreds of different culinary dishes waiting to be tasted. Among the multitude of museums, there lies nearly limitless amounts of works of art to be viewed, analyzed, interpreted and felt by the heart. There are different types of stones contained within mountains ready to be felt by the hands of a climber eager to reach new heights -- both physically and spiritually.
In this dream of San Francisco, I looked out beyond the streets and beyond the buildings that formed the city skyline. What I saw was something much more spiritual and metaphoric. While my hands were eagerly pressed against the glass, I realized that I was alone. What I began to feel within my heart was a sense of loneliness and isolation. I then asked myself what good there is in traveling the world when there is nobody there to travel with me.
I walked down a street in San Francisco and turned into an alleyway. I called out to her but she was not there. I looked up and saw the movement of clouds as they raced across the sky. I then looked at my watch to check the time and saw the hands spinning rapidly. What worth was there in traveling down new streets when there was nobody to be there by my side?
"Isn't it beautiful? This is one of the most beautiful cities in the world."
I turned around but she was not there. I could travel down every street in the world in a pathetically futile attempt to find her. At night, I'll often walk slowly down different streets and look up at the old buildings in the city. On the upper floors, I'll stare into the dark windows and pretend that perhaps she's in there looking back at me. I'll delude myself into thinking that perhaps that's where we lived for many years and that, in some sense, she was in that dark room sleeping -- waiting for me to come home.
I know why I love to travel to new places. I understand my fascination for discovering new works of art and exploring new streets. In some sense, every place I visit has a piece of her somewhere. Part of the thrill of traveling is the nearly impossible chance that I will see her again. Every art museum I visit gives me the opportunity to look at a painting that might remind me of her in some way. Perhaps a certain flow of yellow crashing into the blue of an abstract painting will cause a flashback of her beautiful green eyes against her dark hair.
I know why I love to go to so many places. It's because I never really had a place I could call home. Home to me is that random window in a building on a distant street within a distant city. A place where she just might be resting, waiting and wishing for me to bump into her as much as I wish she would bump into me.
There are streets, though, that one can never go down. These streets of time are paved with our own memories. Dreams allow us to break through those impossibilities and see days far gone and removed from our lives, but so near and precious to our hearts.
I will never understand how anyone could cheat on someone they love. Love is so hard to cultivate at times. What amazes me most is how so many people actually have someone right next to them, yet could so easily mislead them by choosing to be faithless to their commitment. To work so hard in searching and exploring to find someone to love, only to then turn around and destroy that trust seems so barren to me. If you find someone even remotely compatible -- someone you can have great conversations with -- shouldn't it be one's first nature to never let that person escape your life? Even more importantly, why on earth would anyone ever betray that person? Is a moment of pleasure with a stranger worth destroying a lifetime spent building a relationship and caring for another human?
Yet here I am traveling the world -- for the rest of my life -- to find that one special person that so many others take for granted.
But I do love to travel. It reminds me why love is so important. When you give your heart to someone, you give them your trust. Love without trust was never love at all.
Yet, I read stories all the time about politicians who have cheated on their wife because they were given the chance to keep from getting caught. There is never a possibility of getting away with deceit, because that moment of deception is always there in the back of one's mind.
In my dream, I was situated on top of a large hill that overlooked a beautiful city. I was looking out through a window into a large backyard area with a very nice pool and statues that surrounded the pool. The dream was very vivid and real -- a lucid dream that I have occasionally. A person came up next to me and smiled and said, "isn't it beautiful? This is one of the most beautiful cities in the world." I asked her what city it was and she replied, "It is beautiful San Francisco."
It was at this point that I realized I was within a dream, but I decided to go outside to explore the city. It was interesting to explore a city within a dream that I have yet to visit in real life. I remember the streets were filled with people and that there were large ports near the ocean area. The sky was completely clear, the sun was shining and the air was clean and dry. I inhaled deeply and began riding a bike down one of the streets while observing the people.
"So this is what west coast people are like," I remember thinking to myself. Something about the dream went further than just my mind's illusion of what I thought San Francisco would actually look and feel like in real life. There was a lot of emotion within the dream -- I felt a sense of freedom and excitement to be able to travel and visit a new place. Even though it was just a dream, it was amazingly detailed and filled with subjective material of great personal significance.
I want to share something with you that means a lot to me. Deep within my heart, I feel an intense passion and desire to travel. My last trip took me to Denver, Colorado, which I found to be an exciting and vibrant place. Denver is a beautiful city and definitely a place I could see myself living in at some future point in my life. The glorious mountain spans, the clean air, the endless activities in which to engage like skiing, white water rafting and hiking.
The world is such a large place. There are more than six billion people in the world. There are hundreds of moderately sized cities throughout seven different continents. There are adventures ready to invigorate the soul while saturating one's senses and desires. There are hundreds upon hundreds of different culinary dishes waiting to be tasted. Among the multitude of museums, there lies nearly limitless amounts of works of art to be viewed, analyzed, interpreted and felt by the heart. There are different types of stones contained within mountains ready to be felt by the hands of a climber eager to reach new heights -- both physically and spiritually.
In this dream of San Francisco, I looked out beyond the streets and beyond the buildings that formed the city skyline. What I saw was something much more spiritual and metaphoric. While my hands were eagerly pressed against the glass, I realized that I was alone. What I began to feel within my heart was a sense of loneliness and isolation. I then asked myself what good there is in traveling the world when there is nobody there to travel with me.
I walked down a street in San Francisco and turned into an alleyway. I called out to her but she was not there. I looked up and saw the movement of clouds as they raced across the sky. I then looked at my watch to check the time and saw the hands spinning rapidly. What worth was there in traveling down new streets when there was nobody to be there by my side?
"Isn't it beautiful? This is one of the most beautiful cities in the world."
I turned around but she was not there. I could travel down every street in the world in a pathetically futile attempt to find her. At night, I'll often walk slowly down different streets and look up at the old buildings in the city. On the upper floors, I'll stare into the dark windows and pretend that perhaps she's in there looking back at me. I'll delude myself into thinking that perhaps that's where we lived for many years and that, in some sense, she was in that dark room sleeping -- waiting for me to come home.
I know why I love to travel to new places. I understand my fascination for discovering new works of art and exploring new streets. In some sense, every place I visit has a piece of her somewhere. Part of the thrill of traveling is the nearly impossible chance that I will see her again. Every art museum I visit gives me the opportunity to look at a painting that might remind me of her in some way. Perhaps a certain flow of yellow crashing into the blue of an abstract painting will cause a flashback of her beautiful green eyes against her dark hair.
I know why I love to go to so many places. It's because I never really had a place I could call home. Home to me is that random window in a building on a distant street within a distant city. A place where she just might be resting, waiting and wishing for me to bump into her as much as I wish she would bump into me.
There are streets, though, that one can never go down. These streets of time are paved with our own memories. Dreams allow us to break through those impossibilities and see days far gone and removed from our lives, but so near and precious to our hearts.
I will never understand how anyone could cheat on someone they love. Love is so hard to cultivate at times. What amazes me most is how so many people actually have someone right next to them, yet could so easily mislead them by choosing to be faithless to their commitment. To work so hard in searching and exploring to find someone to love, only to then turn around and destroy that trust seems so barren to me. If you find someone even remotely compatible -- someone you can have great conversations with -- shouldn't it be one's first nature to never let that person escape your life? Even more importantly, why on earth would anyone ever betray that person? Is a moment of pleasure with a stranger worth destroying a lifetime spent building a relationship and caring for another human?
Yet here I am traveling the world -- for the rest of my life -- to find that one special person that so many others take for granted.
But I do love to travel. It reminds me why love is so important. When you give your heart to someone, you give them your trust. Love without trust was never love at all.
Yet, I read stories all the time about politicians who have cheated on their wife because they were given the chance to keep from getting caught. There is never a possibility of getting away with deceit, because that moment of deception is always there in the back of one's mind.
Compassion -- it is an Amazingly Potent Thing
Well, it is Saturday night at 2:30am -- technically Sunday night. I went out tonight and, without exaggeration, was the life of the entire bar. I have been going to Acme for quite some time and a lot of people know me now. The amazing thing is that my intention was never to become such a well-known and well-liked person. Tonight I had guys asking me for my number because they said I was the coolest person they've ever met. That was really flattering. I'm not sure what has happened to me over the past month or two, though. It started when I got back from Denver and has only snowballed since.
Part of it has to do with compassion. When I go out to a bar or a club, I realize that everyone is out to have a good time. I love to see a guy hit on a woman he likes and to succeed with her. I have not attempted to "hook up" with any woman over the past few weeks, but I've gotten more phone numbers and requests to hang out by them than I have ever had in my life. I've got a hundred different nicknames. Two very beautiful women nicknamed me "Louis the 14th" -- whatever that means (but it is cute).
One thing I have noticed, though, is that I am not afraid of expressing my emotions anymore. I've had a few major setbacks in my life lately and one drove me into a deep depression where I thought about ending it. However, I would never do such a thing. Life is too precious and short to throw it away because of a temporary life situation that will improve with time.
When I talk to a girl, I give her a hug and kiss her on the cheek and find something nice to say about her. I don't do it to get laid -- I do it because I want others to feel good about themselves. I had no idea how real Karma really was until I realized that people really care about me and love being with me. I've seen a few unfortunate circumstances where people have said bye to someone assuming they would see them again -- only to never see them because of one of life's unpredictable circumstances.
Tonight I got over six different numbers -- some guys and some girls. Two of the girls were extremely beautiful but my sense of sexuality has currently been pushed aside by my more pure sense of compassion and love for humanity. In essence, I want to help others immensely.
I went out and bought a book and a card for Jason wishing him luck with his job hunting endeavors. He sent me a text telling me that was the most amazing thing anyone has ever done for him. It only took 5 minutes of my time and ten dollars, but it meant the world to him.
In conclusion, I'm realizing very quickly that the smallest investments from the heart (especially when they are from pure intentions) go extremely far in making another person feel good about themselves. I go out every night of the week now because I want to be around other people and I want to know who they are and I want to help them.
I've been filled with such an immense sense of happiness and excitement that words can't really describe it. When I went up to the girl having a bachelorette party, I gave her a hug and kissed her on the cheek and wished her a great marriage and she just smiled from ear to ear.
I can feel myself filling up with an intense and passionate form of sincere love for humanity and it is just overwhelmingly powerful. I haven't been this happy in a very, very long time. Sadly, I've spent a lot of my life denying myself of this most simple pleasure. For some reason, I've resisted expressing my emotions and love for fear of rejection or embarrassment. What I have found, though, is that there is no rejection or embarrassment. Some people close themselves off from the world but when they detect pure and sincere intentions from another person, they tend to allow themselves to open up.
I'm on the verge of an overwhelming life transformation.
To put it bluntly -- I'm no longer afraid to open myself up or risk being vulnerable because I am much more powerful emotionally than I ever gave myself credit for.
This blog is rambling and off the wall, but it feels good for me to be able to articulate these feelings.
Thanks for reading.
Part of it has to do with compassion. When I go out to a bar or a club, I realize that everyone is out to have a good time. I love to see a guy hit on a woman he likes and to succeed with her. I have not attempted to "hook up" with any woman over the past few weeks, but I've gotten more phone numbers and requests to hang out by them than I have ever had in my life. I've got a hundred different nicknames. Two very beautiful women nicknamed me "Louis the 14th" -- whatever that means (but it is cute).
One thing I have noticed, though, is that I am not afraid of expressing my emotions anymore. I've had a few major setbacks in my life lately and one drove me into a deep depression where I thought about ending it. However, I would never do such a thing. Life is too precious and short to throw it away because of a temporary life situation that will improve with time.
When I talk to a girl, I give her a hug and kiss her on the cheek and find something nice to say about her. I don't do it to get laid -- I do it because I want others to feel good about themselves. I had no idea how real Karma really was until I realized that people really care about me and love being with me. I've seen a few unfortunate circumstances where people have said bye to someone assuming they would see them again -- only to never see them because of one of life's unpredictable circumstances.
Tonight I got over six different numbers -- some guys and some girls. Two of the girls were extremely beautiful but my sense of sexuality has currently been pushed aside by my more pure sense of compassion and love for humanity. In essence, I want to help others immensely.
I went out and bought a book and a card for Jason wishing him luck with his job hunting endeavors. He sent me a text telling me that was the most amazing thing anyone has ever done for him. It only took 5 minutes of my time and ten dollars, but it meant the world to him.
In conclusion, I'm realizing very quickly that the smallest investments from the heart (especially when they are from pure intentions) go extremely far in making another person feel good about themselves. I go out every night of the week now because I want to be around other people and I want to know who they are and I want to help them.
I've been filled with such an immense sense of happiness and excitement that words can't really describe it. When I went up to the girl having a bachelorette party, I gave her a hug and kissed her on the cheek and wished her a great marriage and she just smiled from ear to ear.
I can feel myself filling up with an intense and passionate form of sincere love for humanity and it is just overwhelmingly powerful. I haven't been this happy in a very, very long time. Sadly, I've spent a lot of my life denying myself of this most simple pleasure. For some reason, I've resisted expressing my emotions and love for fear of rejection or embarrassment. What I have found, though, is that there is no rejection or embarrassment. Some people close themselves off from the world but when they detect pure and sincere intentions from another person, they tend to allow themselves to open up.
I'm on the verge of an overwhelming life transformation.
To put it bluntly -- I'm no longer afraid to open myself up or risk being vulnerable because I am much more powerful emotionally than I ever gave myself credit for.
This blog is rambling and off the wall, but it feels good for me to be able to articulate these feelings.
Thanks for reading.
Saturday, July 21
Weekend Report
Best Pick-up line by a girl to me after watching me attempt to dance:
Are you on Myspace?? I am so putting you as my #1 friend!
Worst Spoonerism Moment:
"Bartender, I'll take a cum and roke ... I mean rum and coke!"
Best moment of cockiness by me:
Telling that MILF that I would totally do her ... in front of her 22 year old daughter ... then feeling bad ... then turning to the daughter ... and telling her that I'd do her first, of course. Then watching her mom laugh and be cool about it.
Most Random moment:
Kissing some random girl on the cheek because I wanted to kiss some random girl on the cheek. Then having her friends ask me to get in pictures with them of me kissing everyone.
Most OMG I can't believe you did that moment:
Flashing the shocker between two girls getting their picture taken.
Worst Dressed:
Guy with the Polo shirt with the collar straight up and the blue "kilt like thing."
Best Dressed:
Jenn the bartender -- always with the cleavage.
Ps: To that girl who was taking a picture of her frienda -- that symbol that I made with my hand -- it's called the shocker.
Two in the cha-cha, one in the ka-ka.
Two in the frollicks, one in the bollocks.
Two in the cooter, one in the pooter
Muhahaha!
Are you on Myspace?? I am so putting you as my #1 friend!
Worst Spoonerism Moment:
"Bartender, I'll take a cum and roke ... I mean rum and coke!"
Best moment of cockiness by me:
Telling that MILF that I would totally do her ... in front of her 22 year old daughter ... then feeling bad ... then turning to the daughter ... and telling her that I'd do her first, of course. Then watching her mom laugh and be cool about it.
Most Random moment:
Kissing some random girl on the cheek because I wanted to kiss some random girl on the cheek. Then having her friends ask me to get in pictures with them of me kissing everyone.
Most OMG I can't believe you did that moment:
Flashing the shocker between two girls getting their picture taken.
Worst Dressed:
Guy with the Polo shirt with the collar straight up and the blue "kilt like thing."
Best Dressed:
Jenn the bartender -- always with the cleavage.
Ps: To that girl who was taking a picture of her frienda -- that symbol that I made with my hand -- it's called the shocker.
Two in the cha-cha, one in the ka-ka.
Two in the frollicks, one in the bollocks.
Two in the cooter, one in the pooter
Muhahaha!
Friday, July 20
Near Tears in a Bar
Before I begin writing this blog, I need to make it very clear that I am not the type of guy to easily cry. I have never been moved to tears in a public place in my entire life, but tonight was much different. I literally felt my eyes well up with tears and I had to excuse myself to the bathroom, where I continued dabbing my eyes with paper towels in the stall.
What brought this on? What could possibly move me, a stoic and mature guy to suddenly display such intense emotion -- especially in public? It was due to a story told to me by a good friend of mine. It hit my heart so hard, that I could not help but care who was looking or who was around me. It was the most profound and heartfelt story that I had ever been told by another human being in a public setting. I can honestly say that it was one of the most impacting moments in my entire life.
I have a friend who is in the music business. He is a black man with many tattoos all over his arms. He is a very intelligent and sincere person who knows music inside and out. I call him the Einstein of music, whereas I am the Neils Bohr of music. We constantly struggle to outdo each other with music trivia. That night, the subject of drugs came up. I was talking about cocaine with his girlfriend for a bit and how cocaine isn't the "hard" drug that many make it out to be. We went on about the the economics of the war on drugs and how our prison system is overcrowded with non-violent drug offenders, etc.
Well, I had to make the reference about coke first so that the rest of the story makes more sense. I started talking to Jason (Einstein) and asked him a very simple question, "what do your tattoos mean?"
Now, most of the guys I have met who have tattoos usually get very unoriginal ones -- vines around the arms, Chinese symbols that they think mean "love and war" but really mean "black and fight." He proceeded to go into one of the most amazing and heartfelt explanations about his tattoos and how they pertained to his life that I had ever heard.
"This is my flesh, and these are the reminders of where I've been in my life, and where I want to be. They are reminders of the struggles that I've had and how I do not wish to repeat those same mistakes." He had wings of Gabriel and Jacob on his back, spiritual symbols of love and death on his forearms, etc. Each tattoo was accompanied by a very sincere and true story about why they were on his arms.
I found out that at some point, he suffered from a severe cocaine addiction and almost killed himself because of it. I instantly remembered his girlfriend moments earlier telling me how much she hated cocaine -- it all made much more sense.
What moved me to tears, though, wasn't necessarily the stories of struggle and recovery, because we have all fallen. What hit me hard was how sincere he was in telling those stories. Generally, you can tell when someone feeds you a bunch of bullshit while you just nod your head lightly and roll your eyes. This was straight from him heart. I started by scratching off the label to my beer bottle in some feeble attempt to keep composed but I just had to get up and head to the bathroom where I took some time to really think about the important things in life vs. what I assume to be important things. There is a difference.
The best thing about being in my 30's is having the same energy and drive as I did in my 20's but having it tempered with a lot more wisdom and compassion.
What brought this on? What could possibly move me, a stoic and mature guy to suddenly display such intense emotion -- especially in public? It was due to a story told to me by a good friend of mine. It hit my heart so hard, that I could not help but care who was looking or who was around me. It was the most profound and heartfelt story that I had ever been told by another human being in a public setting. I can honestly say that it was one of the most impacting moments in my entire life.
I have a friend who is in the music business. He is a black man with many tattoos all over his arms. He is a very intelligent and sincere person who knows music inside and out. I call him the Einstein of music, whereas I am the Neils Bohr of music. We constantly struggle to outdo each other with music trivia. That night, the subject of drugs came up. I was talking about cocaine with his girlfriend for a bit and how cocaine isn't the "hard" drug that many make it out to be. We went on about the the economics of the war on drugs and how our prison system is overcrowded with non-violent drug offenders, etc.
Well, I had to make the reference about coke first so that the rest of the story makes more sense. I started talking to Jason (Einstein) and asked him a very simple question, "what do your tattoos mean?"
Now, most of the guys I have met who have tattoos usually get very unoriginal ones -- vines around the arms, Chinese symbols that they think mean "love and war" but really mean "black and fight." He proceeded to go into one of the most amazing and heartfelt explanations about his tattoos and how they pertained to his life that I had ever heard.
"This is my flesh, and these are the reminders of where I've been in my life, and where I want to be. They are reminders of the struggles that I've had and how I do not wish to repeat those same mistakes." He had wings of Gabriel and Jacob on his back, spiritual symbols of love and death on his forearms, etc. Each tattoo was accompanied by a very sincere and true story about why they were on his arms.
I found out that at some point, he suffered from a severe cocaine addiction and almost killed himself because of it. I instantly remembered his girlfriend moments earlier telling me how much she hated cocaine -- it all made much more sense.
What moved me to tears, though, wasn't necessarily the stories of struggle and recovery, because we have all fallen. What hit me hard was how sincere he was in telling those stories. Generally, you can tell when someone feeds you a bunch of bullshit while you just nod your head lightly and roll your eyes. This was straight from him heart. I started by scratching off the label to my beer bottle in some feeble attempt to keep composed but I just had to get up and head to the bathroom where I took some time to really think about the important things in life vs. what I assume to be important things. There is a difference.
The best thing about being in my 30's is having the same energy and drive as I did in my 20's but having it tempered with a lot more wisdom and compassion.
Wednesday, July 18
Jo-Ann Fabric and Bathrooms
While shopping at a Jo-Ann Fabric store in Logansport, IN, a lady had a sudden case of diarrhea. Management at that store refused to allow her use of their restrooms. She had to endure the utter humiliation and embarrassment of feces running down her leg because of this. The entire story can be found here.
I wrote the CEO, Darrell Webb, of Jo-Ann Fabric and Craft Stores this quick e-mail:
The next day, I received the following response from Mr. Webb:
I am glad Mr. Webb took responsibility for this matter and has since adopted a new, less shitty, bathroom policy.
I wrote the CEO, Darrell Webb, of Jo-Ann Fabric and Craft Stores this quick e-mail:
I read the story of the lady who needed to use your restrooms in an emergency while your management just allowed her to defecate all over herself instead.
I will NEVER shop at your store again and will be sure to e-mail this story to all of my friends, coworkers, family and associates so they may pass it around.
Absolutely SICKENING.
The next day, I received the following response from Mr. Webb:
We made a mistake. We're very sorry for any frustration and embarrassment that we caused our customer at the Logansport, Indiana, Jo-Ann Fabric and Craft Store on Friday, June 29.
Many of our store restrooms are located in areas that are not readily accessible to customers and therefore our policy limits the access to the restrooms. However, we have immediately changed our policy to allow any customer to use our restrooms upon request.
Again, we acknowledge our mistake in handling this matter and sincerely hope that our customers will be pleased by our change in policy.
Darrell Webb
Chairman, President, and CEO
Jo-Ann Fabric and Craft Stores
I am glad Mr. Webb took responsibility for this matter and has since adopted a new, less shitty, bathroom policy.
Monday, July 16
Going up to New York City this Weekend
There is a FARK.COM party in NYC this weekend, so I'm going to head up there and party with them and then find a nice, comfortable park bench in Central Park and take a nap until the trains start back up in the morning. I know it sounds ghetto, but I need a nice break from routine -- and what better way than to travel, sleep on a park bench and wake up a few hours later so you can watch the sun rise while reflecting on one's life.
Perhaps I'll take my Ipod with me and put on Pink Floyd's "The Wall" while looking out across Central Park. I don't really care about criminals, homeless people, misfits or pick-pocketers (is that a word?). They can steal my I-pod if they want, since I need to get a new one anyway.
What I really want to do is break away from normalcy for a little while and live life on the edge. My best friend and I have always talked about sleeping out on the streets for a weekend just to understand what it is like to be homeless, but the psychological effect is never quite the same. Why? Because you know after all is said and done, you have a home to return to. However, I rather enjoy risk. I love riding the subway when some freak is on it. I love the adrenaline rush of wondering if someone is going to start shit with people and perhaps even with me.
I don't think I have a passive disregard for my own safety, but living the corporate life has left me all but soulless and devoid of compassion. Three years ago I was going on dates constantly, getting laid by hot women and generally felt excited about the world. I felt a sense of happiness that is now lacking in my life. That sense of happiness was consumed and digested by routine -- by the monotony of corporate life.
I'd like to break away from that. Yes, I'll move -- perhap to Denver, CO. or California, depending on which place I end up getting a nice job. I love Colorado because it is beautiful and smack dab in the center of the country (more or less). I want to get back into traveling and doing exciting things.
I just can't take the same monotonous, boring, drudgery that corporate life brings. I'm all but dead inside because of it -- yet there is a flame deep within that wants to reignite.
Fuck it -- time for some changes.
Perhaps I'll take my Ipod with me and put on Pink Floyd's "The Wall" while looking out across Central Park. I don't really care about criminals, homeless people, misfits or pick-pocketers (is that a word?). They can steal my I-pod if they want, since I need to get a new one anyway.
What I really want to do is break away from normalcy for a little while and live life on the edge. My best friend and I have always talked about sleeping out on the streets for a weekend just to understand what it is like to be homeless, but the psychological effect is never quite the same. Why? Because you know after all is said and done, you have a home to return to. However, I rather enjoy risk. I love riding the subway when some freak is on it. I love the adrenaline rush of wondering if someone is going to start shit with people and perhaps even with me.
I don't think I have a passive disregard for my own safety, but living the corporate life has left me all but soulless and devoid of compassion. Three years ago I was going on dates constantly, getting laid by hot women and generally felt excited about the world. I felt a sense of happiness that is now lacking in my life. That sense of happiness was consumed and digested by routine -- by the monotony of corporate life.
I'd like to break away from that. Yes, I'll move -- perhap to Denver, CO. or California, depending on which place I end up getting a nice job. I love Colorado because it is beautiful and smack dab in the center of the country (more or less). I want to get back into traveling and doing exciting things.
I just can't take the same monotonous, boring, drudgery that corporate life brings. I'm all but dead inside because of it -- yet there is a flame deep within that wants to reignite.
Fuck it -- time for some changes.
Great Quote -- Short and Sweet
"When marrying, ask yourself this question: Do you believe that you will be able to converse well with this person into your old age? Everything else in marriage is transitory. "
--Nietzsche
--Nietzsche
Sunday, July 15
Saturday, July 14
Mild Mannered Reporter by Day ... at Night?
Most of my friends know me as that eccentric genius that is the glue that sort of bonds all the different type of people together. I take pride in being able to relate to almost anyone because I believe that we all have at least one thing in common.
What people *DON'T* know about me is my other side. The side that has fallen off the wagon many times over. That side that rides through life with wreckless abandon. That side that carries some sort of internal anger towards a complicated web of existentialist issues. I love people with all my heart. I generally can sniff out a bit of good in the most evil of people. Although the worst may do what they do with no remorse, I do believe in love and I do believe in compassion.
The most troubling aspect of my life is that I feel my time is running out. I don't know why, but I don't feel like the passion and light inside of me will last forever. You are probably scratching your head wondering just what in the hell I am talking about -- and I wouldn't blame you, either.
Honestly, I am overwhelmed by the world. I want to experience everything but realize that is all but impossible. The world is a huge place and I want to be able to live in all corners of it, but one person can not do that -- not in one lifetime. I would want to wipe away the tears of a crying woman and get to know her and help her, but my passion burns so intensely that I never really get the chance to be with just one for any length of time.
I just hop from one close friendship to the next because that is how it always works out. I have only myself to blame for that. I make the same mistakes over and over, because just when I am ready to embrace something with just a hint of resemblance to something permanent, I spring off into another tangent.
Sometimes I feel like my life is a pinball machine. Sometimes I am the paddle on the left side, sometimes I'm the paddle on the right. Then suddenly I'm the ball getting shot around until I end up ricocheting between two bumpers a hundred times -- god, that is painful. If that were the case, who would be keeping score of my life? Why did I end up in the 5x bonus hole when I could have ended up in the 10x or 25x bonus holes?
Then there are these great monumental disasters in life. A friend that dies, a parent that gets very sick -- a boss that tears into you at a moment of vulnerability that causes you two get two paragraphs into a two-week notice only to delete it and leave early for the day. Is this when the ball comes straight down the middle between the two paddles? All the button pressing in the world won't save the ball -- because it was destined to end up there. Sure, you can shake the shit out of the pinball machine, but then it tilts and the paddles turn off. That's when the ball just bounces around fruitlessly for a little while until rolling back and forth and dropping pathetically between the paddles. The end result is the same -- go out in a blaze of glory slamming the paddles while screaming as the ball disappears or throw the machine back and forth under the assumption that you can override cosmic destiny. Hey, I'm human -- I'm more important and better constructed than a silver metal ball.
Then there are the ultimately profound questions with no answers. If I can run 19.2 miles per hour, why can't I run 19.3? Is there some great mathematical equation that governs our lives? Are we merely little metal balls masquerading around as sentient beings with an illusion of control?
I sat behind a truck carrying large canisters of Oxygen. On the back of the truck were two signs. On the left was a green sign that read, "NON-FLAMMABLE." On the right, a red sign read, "FLAMMABLE." I felt a bit of insanity creep over me. I wanted to back up my car and then run into the truck at full speed to answer just one simple question -- "which sign was ultimately correct?"
... and that's how I feel that I've currently been living my life -- testing a hypothesis by the means of wreckless abandonment for the consequences. Some might call me immature while others would call me just another rebel without a cause. As a guy, I do enjoy dabbling in moments of chaos and order. I respect the intelligent planning and intense will-power to carry through with immense projects that bring order into our world. The beautiful and unique buildings, the bustling streets with cars, etc. Although it may sound sick, I also enjoy it when the wheels come off and I get to witness an amazingly violent and destructive train-wreck. Some are physical in nature, complete with huge fireballs, destructive explosions and shrapnel propelled at super-sonic speeds in all directions. Then there are the mental train-wrecks. We're only human, we do succumb to our environment at times. One of the most painful lessons in life is learning to ... no ... wanting to get back up after we fall -- figuratively speaking of course.
We also live in a world of blatant hypocrisy. As a kid, I grew up with the understanding that older people were always more intelligent and that the government was always good. As a thirty year old, I now realize that many people are lazy, self-serving and ego-centric individuals. Our government is merely a more unified collection of these type of people.
I was taught as a kid that drugs were bad and that drug-users were non-productive, wasteful, unintelligent, disease ridden, abusive and completely criminal in nature. Lo' and behold, as I got older I realized that everything I was taught about drugs was pure bullshit. Nancy Reagan's 80's campaign of "Just Say No!" may have been well intentioned, but she was probably victimized by the same bullshit rhetoric as the rest of us.
If smoking pot is so bad, why are cigarettes still legal? That's real simple -- our government is ultimately not geared towards safety or the common social welfare of the people but about money and power. Heroine, cocaine, opiates, benzos, LSD, barbiturates, MDMA, etc. -- they're all drugs that were once legal but eventually became illegal.
What's the first thing you think of when you hear the word "heroine?" Do you think of some guy in an alleyway or under a bridge tapping his flesh before shooting up his next dose? Notice I said "his," because drugs are always associated with males -- very rarely do you envision women with drug abuse problems. Very rarely do we hear about female drug dealers or drug use in general by females -- save for the runway models at the age of 12 that were already learning about coke to keep thin or the happy L.A. socialites popping vicodin before getting plastered on alcohol at a red-carpet club.
The government does not believe in social, responsible or recreational drug use because, as we all know, drug users are unproductive members of society that increase crime rates wherever they end up. Oh wait, I should amend that statement -- people that use ILLEGAL drugs are unproductive. Those that use caffeine, nicotine and alcohol are generally upstanding members of society. Also, people who use legal crack such as Ritalin or Adderall prescribed by a doctor are also productive. People who are prescribed anything by a doctor are productive -- this includes benzos for stress or sleep, barbiturates and synthetic opiates for pain control (but not mental pain, even though opiates are far better at treating depression than many SSRI's, etc.). Wait, this is the same as illegal drugs? Oh, they're controlled by the government, so that makes it all right. If you do crack on the street from a drug dealer, your ass had better be ready to do a few years, but if you're just an ADHD kid cranked up on Adderall, enjoy yourself.
We're flooded by a bunch of lies while we drown in their hypocritical nature. Drugs don't cause crime levels to increase -- the war on drugs causes them to increase. Why? Because when you make anything illegal, you drive up its value. Things that cost more are worth robbing banks to get. If an eight-ball of cocaine cost $25, I doubt you'd have as many shootings within inner-city ghettos. However, make it illegal and drive the price up over $300 and now there is something worth shooting over, right?
We have more people locked up in our prisons for bullshit offenses than all the European countries combined. Do you feel safer now that Joe is locked away securely instead of smoking pot at his house on a Friday night? I certainly don't.
Meanwhile, pharmaceutical companies continue to line the pockets of our elected officials with cash, free flights and trips to Vegas at the glorious Wynn hotel. If you think I'm paranoid, do the research for yourself. Look at how much money is contributed by pharmaceutical companies. Do you think that congress would EVER pass a bill on drugs that made sense vs. passing a bill that gave them a huge pay day?
There is an old saying. If something doesn't make any sense, just follow the money trail to find out why. If I go out to the corner to buy a dime bag of weed and get caught, I'm in some deep shit. Yet it is perfectly acceptable for someone to light up next to me and spread hundreds of carcinogens into the air for others to breath. Wouldn't that be a form of terrorism to some of our high-strung ultra-conservative elected officials? Shouldn't we ship all these smokers to Guantanamo Bay?
I apologize that this blog went off on a tangent, it was really meant to be two separate blog entries.
What people *DON'T* know about me is my other side. The side that has fallen off the wagon many times over. That side that rides through life with wreckless abandon. That side that carries some sort of internal anger towards a complicated web of existentialist issues. I love people with all my heart. I generally can sniff out a bit of good in the most evil of people. Although the worst may do what they do with no remorse, I do believe in love and I do believe in compassion.
The most troubling aspect of my life is that I feel my time is running out. I don't know why, but I don't feel like the passion and light inside of me will last forever. You are probably scratching your head wondering just what in the hell I am talking about -- and I wouldn't blame you, either.
Honestly, I am overwhelmed by the world. I want to experience everything but realize that is all but impossible. The world is a huge place and I want to be able to live in all corners of it, but one person can not do that -- not in one lifetime. I would want to wipe away the tears of a crying woman and get to know her and help her, but my passion burns so intensely that I never really get the chance to be with just one for any length of time.
I just hop from one close friendship to the next because that is how it always works out. I have only myself to blame for that. I make the same mistakes over and over, because just when I am ready to embrace something with just a hint of resemblance to something permanent, I spring off into another tangent.
Sometimes I feel like my life is a pinball machine. Sometimes I am the paddle on the left side, sometimes I'm the paddle on the right. Then suddenly I'm the ball getting shot around until I end up ricocheting between two bumpers a hundred times -- god, that is painful. If that were the case, who would be keeping score of my life? Why did I end up in the 5x bonus hole when I could have ended up in the 10x or 25x bonus holes?
Then there are these great monumental disasters in life. A friend that dies, a parent that gets very sick -- a boss that tears into you at a moment of vulnerability that causes you two get two paragraphs into a two-week notice only to delete it and leave early for the day. Is this when the ball comes straight down the middle between the two paddles? All the button pressing in the world won't save the ball -- because it was destined to end up there. Sure, you can shake the shit out of the pinball machine, but then it tilts and the paddles turn off. That's when the ball just bounces around fruitlessly for a little while until rolling back and forth and dropping pathetically between the paddles. The end result is the same -- go out in a blaze of glory slamming the paddles while screaming as the ball disappears or throw the machine back and forth under the assumption that you can override cosmic destiny. Hey, I'm human -- I'm more important and better constructed than a silver metal ball.
Then there are the ultimately profound questions with no answers. If I can run 19.2 miles per hour, why can't I run 19.3? Is there some great mathematical equation that governs our lives? Are we merely little metal balls masquerading around as sentient beings with an illusion of control?
I sat behind a truck carrying large canisters of Oxygen. On the back of the truck were two signs. On the left was a green sign that read, "NON-FLAMMABLE." On the right, a red sign read, "FLAMMABLE." I felt a bit of insanity creep over me. I wanted to back up my car and then run into the truck at full speed to answer just one simple question -- "which sign was ultimately correct?"
... and that's how I feel that I've currently been living my life -- testing a hypothesis by the means of wreckless abandonment for the consequences. Some might call me immature while others would call me just another rebel without a cause. As a guy, I do enjoy dabbling in moments of chaos and order. I respect the intelligent planning and intense will-power to carry through with immense projects that bring order into our world. The beautiful and unique buildings, the bustling streets with cars, etc. Although it may sound sick, I also enjoy it when the wheels come off and I get to witness an amazingly violent and destructive train-wreck. Some are physical in nature, complete with huge fireballs, destructive explosions and shrapnel propelled at super-sonic speeds in all directions. Then there are the mental train-wrecks. We're only human, we do succumb to our environment at times. One of the most painful lessons in life is learning to ... no ... wanting to get back up after we fall -- figuratively speaking of course.
We also live in a world of blatant hypocrisy. As a kid, I grew up with the understanding that older people were always more intelligent and that the government was always good. As a thirty year old, I now realize that many people are lazy, self-serving and ego-centric individuals. Our government is merely a more unified collection of these type of people.
I was taught as a kid that drugs were bad and that drug-users were non-productive, wasteful, unintelligent, disease ridden, abusive and completely criminal in nature. Lo' and behold, as I got older I realized that everything I was taught about drugs was pure bullshit. Nancy Reagan's 80's campaign of "Just Say No!" may have been well intentioned, but she was probably victimized by the same bullshit rhetoric as the rest of us.
If smoking pot is so bad, why are cigarettes still legal? That's real simple -- our government is ultimately not geared towards safety or the common social welfare of the people but about money and power. Heroine, cocaine, opiates, benzos, LSD, barbiturates, MDMA, etc. -- they're all drugs that were once legal but eventually became illegal.
What's the first thing you think of when you hear the word "heroine?" Do you think of some guy in an alleyway or under a bridge tapping his flesh before shooting up his next dose? Notice I said "his," because drugs are always associated with males -- very rarely do you envision women with drug abuse problems. Very rarely do we hear about female drug dealers or drug use in general by females -- save for the runway models at the age of 12 that were already learning about coke to keep thin or the happy L.A. socialites popping vicodin before getting plastered on alcohol at a red-carpet club.
The government does not believe in social, responsible or recreational drug use because, as we all know, drug users are unproductive members of society that increase crime rates wherever they end up. Oh wait, I should amend that statement -- people that use ILLEGAL drugs are unproductive. Those that use caffeine, nicotine and alcohol are generally upstanding members of society. Also, people who use legal crack such as Ritalin or Adderall prescribed by a doctor are also productive. People who are prescribed anything by a doctor are productive -- this includes benzos for stress or sleep, barbiturates and synthetic opiates for pain control (but not mental pain, even though opiates are far better at treating depression than many SSRI's, etc.). Wait, this is the same as illegal drugs? Oh, they're controlled by the government, so that makes it all right. If you do crack on the street from a drug dealer, your ass had better be ready to do a few years, but if you're just an ADHD kid cranked up on Adderall, enjoy yourself.
We're flooded by a bunch of lies while we drown in their hypocritical nature. Drugs don't cause crime levels to increase -- the war on drugs causes them to increase. Why? Because when you make anything illegal, you drive up its value. Things that cost more are worth robbing banks to get. If an eight-ball of cocaine cost $25, I doubt you'd have as many shootings within inner-city ghettos. However, make it illegal and drive the price up over $300 and now there is something worth shooting over, right?
We have more people locked up in our prisons for bullshit offenses than all the European countries combined. Do you feel safer now that Joe is locked away securely instead of smoking pot at his house on a Friday night? I certainly don't.
Meanwhile, pharmaceutical companies continue to line the pockets of our elected officials with cash, free flights and trips to Vegas at the glorious Wynn hotel. If you think I'm paranoid, do the research for yourself. Look at how much money is contributed by pharmaceutical companies. Do you think that congress would EVER pass a bill on drugs that made sense vs. passing a bill that gave them a huge pay day?
There is an old saying. If something doesn't make any sense, just follow the money trail to find out why. If I go out to the corner to buy a dime bag of weed and get caught, I'm in some deep shit. Yet it is perfectly acceptable for someone to light up next to me and spread hundreds of carcinogens into the air for others to breath. Wouldn't that be a form of terrorism to some of our high-strung ultra-conservative elected officials? Shouldn't we ship all these smokers to Guantanamo Bay?
I apologize that this blog went off on a tangent, it was really meant to be two separate blog entries.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
