Women in Art throughout the Past 500 Years

Nice little video ...

Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 14

As I sit listening to three different compositions of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata while trying to ascertain which composition invokes the most sincere emotions, I find myself falling deeper into the notes themselves. When I close my eyes, I see many things begin to take place.

First, there is the darkness that rushes to fill what was left of my vision. With my eyes kept shut, I look into the blackness and reach out with my soul to find something. I know from deep within my own heart, that "something" I am searching for is love. My idealistic view of the world impresses upon me each day that love is the strongest emotion. I could work hard and make millions of dollars, purchase a large house and drive exotic cars but a type of gripping emptiness would still rest deep within me.

That emptiness is a hole -- a large gapping hole that sits dead center within my chest. The edges of that hole are formed by the many thousands of memories of happy moments shared with women in my past. With my eyes still firmly shut, I concentrate on each note that Beethoven placed in this amazing Sonata. The music resonates with my soul, yet with each piano key that is struck, I feel that hole vibrate. I have so much love and compassion within yet it sits idle as just a ridge around so many distant memories of the trials and tribulations that being in love has given to me.

I look out across this great blackness and realize that my heart is littered with the remnants of hundreds of mistakes made by love. I look into the eyes of years past and ask myself if turning left would have been a better choice than turning right at some distant split in the great path of life. Although I had traversed the road I thought was best, I find myself ever curious of those paths never taken.

And with each new piano key that is softly played, I feel the salty tears begin to form in the corner of my eyes. If I press my eyes shut any harder, I know they will begin to slide down my face. There is so much beauty in the world and so little time to experience it. There are too many roads in which to explore and only one chance to choose between two. Yet these forks in life do not occur once or twice, but over and over again.

Yet, there is that voice -- that soft whisper. It is an echo that amplifies itself from the desire to love and to be loved. It is that great omnipotent and all powerful basic necessity of humanity. That word is love, and it carries itself through the sound of every note played in music and through each stroke of color painted on every canvas. It is sprinkled across every memory left by two hearts intersecting when two become one -- at least for a little while -- in this vast journey through the crazy adventures we call life.

To love but one night, to kiss but then never reunite -- it leaves an ineffable tear of sweet sorrow that rests itself on a small crack within an otherwise unbreakable heart. Had I only kissed her 23 times, half of my regret would be not finding the chance to kiss her a 24th. The other half would be not kissing her still once more.

Time and Space

There is a remarkable difference between space and time. With space, I can drop something and go back and find it. I can both touch and smell it with the realization that it hasn't gone anywhere. If I drop something in time, I can not go back and retrieve it. Its like tossing a bottle into a raging river that carries it away for good. Time acts like that raging river. I have made mistakes in life -- very large ones. Those mistakes get carried away by those raging rivers and make it impossible for me to retrieve them and change them.

Why do so many people appreciate and love old things -- stuff like old houses, old walls, old buildings, old pictures, etc.? Quite simply, those things bridge the gap back into our past. While our grandparents and then parents will eventually die, the houses we grew up in and the buildings in our old neighborhood usually remain a little while longer. Nothing can replace people or relationships, though. If we make the mistake of letting someone significant in our lives slip into our past, we have to live with that painful lesson throughout our entire lives. There will inevitably be moments where one will ask, "Could it have worked out if I had turned right instead of left (metaphorically)? Should I have done this instead of that?"

We make decisions in our lives based on the person we are at that moment, but we constantly grow as a person from making a series of mistakes. It is, in all respects, the ultimate catch 22 -- for if we could go back in time and not make those same mistakes, we could continue with whatever relationship we let go to past *BUT* the fact that we DID make those mistakes allowed us to grow as a person and perhaps see in more detail the ignorance of our past indiscretions. In short, we would be judging the past from a frame of mind that was created by making such mistakes to begin with.

The reason hindsight is ultimately 20/20 is due to the fact that, without the benefit of making mistakes, we would be virtually blind since our birth. How both ironic and painful it is that we must grow in this way -- this is without a doubt one of life's most difficult lessons.

However, there is an interesting mind experiment worth trying. Let's say you are in your 20's or 30's. You still have over half of your life left to live. I want you to imagine yourself as an 80 year old man or woman laying in bed approaching death. Imagine looking back at your life and wishing you could go back to change something you did perhaps a year from now. Now, suddenly you find yourself here again and reading this blog.

It looks as though your wish has been fulfilled! That said, are you going to continue to make the same mistakes you have been making? Are you going to diddle-daddy your life away? You were so close to death and yet you REALLY wanted this second chance and now you have it! After that little mind experiment, do you feel just a little more energetic about life and paying more attention to your actions and how they affect people?

Imagine this before you go:

The things you do today affect the future of humanity in ways you cannot understand, even well after your death. The love you give and the experiences you share with others form a type of temporal echo that spread throughout the future like ripples in a great pond. Do you want to take the opportunity that you have been given to drop a pebble into the pond or do you want to let loose and do a cannonball run into it?

The choice is yours -- it's only life, right?

Can Love and Life's Purpose be Rationalized?

I was going through my bookshelf the other day and found a book I had purchased as a teenager entitled, "Six Centuries of Great Poetry." I racked my brain trying to remember why on earth I would have bought such a book back then, but the only rational explanation I could come up with was that it was a necessary book for one of my English classes in high-school.

In any event, I decided to reread some of the centuries old poems in this book while taking a nice, hot bath. I never really found poetry all that exciting in high-school. Most likely, I just didn't possess enough life experiences to understand or appreciate it. However, when I opened the book and began reading, I found myself internally saying, "yeah! I know that feeling! I know what it feels like to love and experience loss -- yes, it really is better than never loving at all."

Or is it?

One of the most important aspects of living and probably our most quintessential desire is that of love. For better or for worse, love forces us to grow up and experience aspects of ourselves we might not initially care to realize. If we are hungry, we eat. If we don't eat, we starve. Love, in a more abstract way, is much like this. We require love -- to be loved and to share our love in order to grow and learn. We may not die without love, but we most certainly will perish on the inside.

But what about this whole "loving and losing is better than never having loved at all?" Well, on one hand the act of experiencing love in any number of its various facades is a most rewarding experience. It truly brings us closer to ourselves/god/purpose/etc. However, losing a love is always painful -- especially considering every love we experience is unique and special. I do believe that when we choose to love another and that love fails, a piece of us goes with the other and vice-versa. In essence, a piece of our essence is ripped from our "spirit" and sent along with the other. Think of this -- do you think you are a different person after having shared in a love with someone than you were before you loved them?

I'm about to drop some poetry, so I'll be very impressed and proud if you choose to continue reading. The first poem is by Robert Herrick and is entitled, "Proof to No Purpose."

YOU see this gentle stream that glides,
Shov'd on, by quick succeeding tides ;
Try if this sober stream you can
Follow to th' wilder ocean,
And see if there it keeps unspent
In that congesting element.
Next, from that world of waters, then
By pores and caverns back again
Induct that inadult'rate same
Stream to the spring from whence it came.
This with a wonder when ye do,
As easy, and else easier too,
Then may ye recollect the grains
Of my particular remains,
After a thousand lusters hurl'd,
By ruffling winds about the world.

This poem deals with life and its lack of apparent purpose. Hell, even the title of the poem could serve as a pretty big clue. He is comparing life to that of a stream of water that ends up returning to the ocean, only to repeat the cycle ad infinitum. This, of course, is far easier than picking up his remains and "throwing them into the air" and coming out with the same person that has perished. Life has no meaning because, in the end, we're all going to end up grains of sand or as the group Kansas so eloquently put it, "Dust in the Wind."

The second poet I will recite was born in the same year that Herrick met his great ocean -- 1674. Isaac Watts writes about life's purpose in a subtly different way in his poem, "Horace Paraphrased."

THERE are a number of us creep

Into this world to eat and sleep,

And know no reason why they're born

But merely to consume the corn,

Devour the cattle, fowl and fish,

And leave behind an empty dish.

The crows and ravens do the same,

Unlucky birds of hateful name;

Ravens or crows might fill their place,

And swallow corn and carcases.

Then if their toombstone when they die

Ben't taught to flatter and to lie,

There's nothing better will be said

Than that "They've up and eat all their bread,

Drank up their dring and gone to bed.

This poem is markedly more dismal in my opinion than Herrick's. Perhaps it's due to the fact that he's comparing my purpose to that of a crow. No matter how enriched I think my life becomes or how noble my goals, I am still fulfilling the same programmed needs that a crow or raven does through their life. While Herrick simply questions purpose, Watts seems to shit all over it.

But that's just fine, because I'll skip ahead to a few poems on love that leave me feeling warm and, well, purposeful. No "old school" poet brings out the best of love's emotions quite like Lord Byron. Take for instance his poem, "When we Two Parted."

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow--
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shrudder comes o'er me--
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee so well--
Long, long I shall rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met--
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?--
With silence and tears.

Wow, that really gets you right in the heart, doesn't it? I don't think this poem really needs explanation -- we've all been there. He's writing specifically about the whole "better to have loved and lost" thing.

Until next time ...

Ps: Do you have a favorite poem?

Pictures -- Moments frozen in time

Scavenging through old pictures has always been a hobby of mine. One of the most fascinating aspects of looking at old pictures is the realization that you are looking at a moment captured in time. Thoughts and emotions are captured and frozen in time -- always there to remind us of some former girlfriend, lover or friend.


[Picture Missing from Imageshack]

I took this picture while in New York City. This is the Chelsea Market located in none other than Chelsea. I don't know the person in this picture, but I'm fascinated to know what thoughts she was thinking at the time the picture was taken. Was that her boyfriend or brother with her? If it was her boyfriend, did they just start dating or have they been dating for a long time? Is she mad at him? Is he mad at her? Where are they going? Why are they there? Where were they doing before they got there? Are they still together?



Even the mood of a picture can be shifted by changing the hue, contrast and focus. There are certain feelings a high-contrast black and white picture can make us experience that a color photograph could not.

One of the coolest things I've always wanted to be able to do is step inside a picture and walk around and see things as they were frozen in time. It would be amazing to look at old photographs from the 1800's and be able to suddenly step through the picture and see everything in vivid color.

Pictures are amazing.

Here is an example of how mood can change. Just for the record, I am not a professional photographer. I photograph, edit and create art strictly as a hobby.

This first picture is one that I took while looking out of a toy store in New York City.



As you can see, it is just a simple picture of some ever present taxis. I edited this picture to give it a more "Hollywood feature film" look. Notice how the mood is remarkably different compared to the previous picture.



I altered the field of depth to place emphasis on one particular taxi. The people on the streets are now more blurry and distant. The overall feel of the picture is enhanced by the light blue and cyan overcast.

Here is a picture I took in London by putting my camera on a traffic box and leaving the shutter open for a few seconds. Notice the traffic is just a blur and most people are walking trails of light save for the one lady who was staring at me probably wondering just what the hell I was up to.

Dreams and God

I have asked my friends in the past if they have very realistic dreams. Some of my friends said they only dream in black and white while a few say they don't remember their dreams. One actually says he doesn't dream at all. I find it hard to believe that anyone can go through life without ever having a dream, though. As for me, my dreams are often as real and vivid as real life. There have been more than one occasion where I have awoken from a dream unable to tell that I had just been dreaming. It took awhile for me to clear out the emotions and images from the dream and accept it was just a dream.

There are many different interpretations of dreams. Some psychologists believe that dreams are nothing more than the brain reorganizing its own experiences from the previous day in an attempt to file those away into permanent storage. This would explain why some dreams are very random in nature. Another interpretation of why we dream would include the need for the brain to sort through many subconscious thoughts and process them in order to deal with those built up images and internal beliefs. Many of my dreams have also shown examples of this -- where I will dream of something that night that I had been thinking about on a deeper level throughout the day.

Another more esoteric interpretation of dreams is that they are created partly from a supernatural nature. There are cases where one dreams of something that foreshadows what will occur that day or possibly an event that will occur in the near future. I have had probably a dozen or so dreams in my life that fell into this more "paranormal" realm.

I'd like to expand on the previous interpretation of dreams as supernatural in nature. Out of all the dreams I've had, the ones that were foreshadowing in my life were also very much different from my typical dreams. Most of the time, my dreams are broken up into distorted images and strange emotions. They follow a more "Freudian" interpretation. However, I've had reoccurring dreams that basically gave me the same message over and over. One set of dreams happened at least 5 or 6 times and foreshadowed an event that took place over a year later. This could have been mere coincidence but it was fascinating nonetheless.

Out of all the dreams I've had, there was one that stuck out as truly significant and life-transforming. It started out as a lucid-dream. A lucid-dream is a dream in which you are fully aware that you are dreaming and you are capable of interacting with your dream elements in such a way as to remember vividly what occurs inside that lucid-dream. This particular lucid-dream began with me standing on top of a large mountain that was surrounded by large fields in all directions. When I have lucid-dreams (about once every couple of months), the first thing I try to do it fly in my dreams. In this particular dream, I started to run down the mountain and then jumped up and thought, "fly! fly! fly!" I began to sore across the mountain's side towards the field. It was an exhilarating and intense feeling. Unfortunately, I was not able to stay in the air and began to fall. I hit the side of the mountain and skidded down a large slope and ended up at the base of the mountain next to a large cave.

Unfortunately, when I get hurt in a lucid-dream, I can actually feel the pain. I stood up, still in pain from falling, and brushed the dirt off of my clothes. I looked over and remember seeing the cave and how dark it was inside. I felt compelled to explore the cave to find out what was inside of it. I began to walk over to the entrance of the cave. I stood at the entrance and felt a cool wind being sucked into the cave. I walked inside the cave and began to feel dizzy. Suddenly, I heard a voice call from within the cave. A light appeared, dim at first but slowly growing in brightness, deep inside the cave. I called out, "who are you," and proceeded to walk deeper into the cave. A few moments later a voice called out and said, "I am." "Great," I thought -- "you are ... what?"

I'm not exactly sure what took place at that moment. Somehow I was instantly wrapped inside an extremely bright light of blinding intensity. I felt the air literally get punched right out of my chest. I felt my own thoughts getting absorbed into the air. What happened next is nothing less than a truly religious moment. Somehow, I was able to feel a type of love that was infinite in nature. For around ten seconds, I was able to feel every thought, see every image, hear every sound, experience every emotion and relive every moment that every living thing has ever experienced. I was quite simply overwhelmed in such a way that I literally felt my soul begin to burn with the intensity of every star within a large galaxy. I fell to my knees as my hands hit the soft dirt. I felt like crying in a way that I have never cried in my life. I simply could not take the huge amount of information that was being pushed into my soul.

I remember waking up from that lucid-dream literally in tears while shaking. I spent a good hour laying in my bed trying to absorb some meaning from that dream. Any dream that commands such emotion deserves a bit of analysis.

Moving on, I can honestly say there have been a few times in my life that I have felt the presence of a god -- that dream was one of them. It happened once while I was a little kid, too. It happened again when I had a near overdose as a young adult while going through my rebellious phase. I have felt a source of strength fill up inside of me when my father has a heart-attack and I had to be the man of the family until he got better. It is a scary feeling wondering if you are actually looking at your father for the last time before they move him to surgery.

I was always very close to my grandmother growing up. I've lost both my grandfather's but it is a different experience being next to a woman when she dies. Both of my grandfather's served in prior wars -- World War II and the Korean War. They lived long lives and were very honorable and honest men. I was sad when I saw each of them for the last time while they were laying in a hospital bed close to death. I knew in both situations that once I left the room, they would die within a few hours. Both did.

However, dealing with the death of my grandmother was much different. She was always a beautiful woman -- always there to bring the family together when people were arguing or squabbling with each other. She had a series of strokes in her final days that left her basically in a coma. When I went to visit her on this one particular evening, she looked very close to death. It took me about a half an hour to compose myself in the bathroom so I was strong enough to sit at her bedside and talk to her without being blinded by tears.

If you have never experienced being at someone's bedside while they approached death, there really is no experience quite like it in our lives. It is a moment of such emotional intensity that one literally pushes aside all the bullshit about religion, philosophical debates, etc. The very clear and real realization that I had on that particular night was that there are indeed forces, spirits and other unknown things within this universe that science simply cannot explain.

I remember holding her hand for awhile while talking to her. Her hand was cold and bloated from the blood pooling inside of it while her heart began to fail. When you talk to someone who is near death and unresponsive, they cannot necessarily hear you, but I do believe they can understand you on a deeper spiritual level. It is vitally important to tell them that you love them, that you loved knowing them and enjoyed all the happy memories growing up together. Then it comes time to tell them that it's alright to stop fighting and to allow themselves to pass on. A lot of times people in that situation will fight to stay alive for another loved one or simply out of regret from leaving those that they love.

In any event, I was filled with very peaceful emotions while sitting beside her. I half crawled into the bed with her to hug her before leaving. Amazingly, at some point I left feeling happy for her rather than sad.

I've had too many experiences in my life to deny the existence of a God or a greater purpose to the universe. In some respects, I find it to be a blessing to be able to understand such things in this life. On the other hand, it also become a huge burden as others will often doubt you or try to argue with you that those experiences are not real or that they are delusional.

That's it for now.

Love is Saccharine

Through the indelible memories burned from the soft light seeping through the crack in the door, I slowly felt her face rub gently against mine as I whispered the immensity of feelings within my heart.

Her love was saccharine -- a delicious type of somnolent sweetness engulfed within a bitter metallic aftertaste of indifference. I took solace in her incertitude, though.

I woke up alone the next morning. I spent an hour staring at the ceiling while wondering if she would remember me. I noticed that when one stares at anything long enough, it begins to fade into a hazy monochromatic fog. Is it symbolic of the heart? In that, if the heart were to love for too long or too passionately, would the feelings melt into a messy painful sludge of spent emotions? I closed my eyes and allowed myself to relive the memories once more. I saw her outline as the bedroom door slowly swung open. She came in and smiled at me and kissed my cheek. The air froze as time slowed itself to a careful and gentle pace.

"Do you still love me," I asked her.

"I do," she replied.

I whispered that I loved her, too.

"I know baby," she said while slowly disappearing.

Love is saccharine.

More Posh Craziness ...

Wow, I've seen some crazy shit in my time but this is just exceedingly funny in a really weird sort of way ...

How Cool! A POSH EMO!

Today I was browsing some YouTube videos and came across this gem -- a Posh Emo! How very cool!



He reminds me of this waiter ...

My Best Friend got an Extraterrestrial Anal Probing

One of my best friends in Vancouver, BC was resting the other night when he felt a "strong electrical energy" shoot through his body. After he came through, he had a strong desire to go over to the window. When he pulled up the blinds, he saw a large faced skinny grey creature with big black insect like eyes. The creature stared at him for half a second and then just "dematerialized."

He was traumatized enough where he couldn't go back to sleep, so I talked to him for a little while since I am no stranger to aliens. I've had "visitations" as a kid from this little being called "Lala."

Unfortunately, he couldn't really talk about it for too long because he was freaking out, but that didn't stop him from heading over to Youtube to catch a glimpse of that scene from "Fire in the Sky" when the guy got abducted.

Well, "Greys" don't really do that sort of thing. They're not responsible for the crop circles or the cow mutilations. The cow mutilations can be blamed on the Reptilians, which are the worst kind of aliens to run into.

Buddy, look forward to a life-long series of these visitations. They don't just visit someone once -- especially someone in Vancouver. Luckily for you, with the price of gas approaching $4.00 a gallon, even aliens have to cut back on the number of visitations.

Good luck! Don't drop the soap in the shower!

Reaching out Beyond our Worldview

When I think of the amount of traveling I've done in my life, I know that number is at least 500,000 miles. That's enough to travel around the Earth at the equator over 20 times. I hope I am able to quadruple that number before it is time for me to check out.

There was a fascinating video created in the 70's called "Powers of 10." The video showed, with great effects, just how many different magnitudes exist in our universe. I stumbled upon this remake on Youtube today and want to share it with you.



Although the video does not explore the microscopic realm, it does a great job in demonstrating just how small we are within the universe. It blows my mind to think that saying "I love you" to someone in a small 10 by 10 room has such an infinitesimal effect on the universe but such a large effect on the people within the room.

I also came across this video that shows how small our planet and home star are compared to Red Supergiants (the largest stars known within the observable universe).

Here's that video:

Ramblings of Being a Man

I'm not sure what direction this blog entry will take -- I only know that it will take on many tangents in the process of finding some ultimate direction. The first thing I want to write about as a man is something called "the past." As I get older, I realize that there is something very precious that I leave behind. These things are experiences and moments that I shared with various women. I've dated quite a few females in my life and have had sex with many beautiful women. When I was younger, having sex with a hot chick was always the ultimate destination. I'm probably one of the most sexual guys I know (and since most men love sex, that's saying quite a bit). However, I have lost something very special during the process of searching for ever greater and more amazing pieces of ass.



During my quest to discover myself sexually and to discover women on a more sexual level, I neglected to appreciate and realize many of the most beautiful aspects of being with a woman. It brings me no joy in admitting that I was insecure growing up. I was told by many women that I was very attractive and held a lot of charisma. Being with a hot woman served as validation for me because I knew that part of being successful was dating an attractive and fun woman. Even though most beautiful women are generally high-maintenance, that is a small price for a man to pay when one considers all of the rewards of dating a sexy woman.

Apart from being a sexual being, I consider myself to be a very emotional and artistic guy -- but I never really allow my emotions to show on the surface. Secretly, although I had always desired the company of a woman, I held very deep seeded anxiety towards them that bordered on hatred. To put it simply, I never really "trusted" a woman -- I viewed them as callous, flighty and fickle. I struggled with this throughout much of my 20's until one day I realized that it was my own thinking that was wrong and delusional.



On my deepest level, I care immensely for any woman that has come into my life and shared something precious with me. Through all of my dating and through all of the wild parties I've had, there are only a couple of women that I've known in my life that I would do anything for. Ironically, one of them is a woman I've only met once (for a few hours). Even though she lives thousands of miles away, I know in my heart that if she were to call me today (even though we don't talk anymore), I wouldn't hesitate to fly out and give her anything -- my love, money, my hand in marriage, my soul -- anything. I told her once that I would always love her and do so unconditionally. After seeing how quickly life can be taken away from me, I made the startling realization that a part of being human -- a part of living the life we live on this planet -- is to discover what it means to give your unconditional love to another person.



I could very well go through the rest of my life without ever getting another chance to see her or speak to her, but luckily with the benefit of maturity, I was able to understand just how powerful love is in tandem with happy memories. Love transcends a lot of the superficial aspects of life. If you allow it, love will seep deep within your soul and permeate throughout your existence and show you that the most important thing we can give another person in this world is love -- unbridled passion and unreserved compassion.

I do think that hot sex is always enjoyable and exciting. There is nothing more tantalizing than pushing a girl up against the edge of the bar while looking deep into her eyes and telling her through mere body language that you will ravage her that night. Body language is a powerful and exciting thing to use in the game of romance. Excursions through lust always begin with playful domination and suggestive submissiveness. However, even sex with a supermodel grows old after time -- yet love triumphs over lust to last through eternity if one allows it.

The problem for me, though, is allowing love to embrace my heart. I believe many men are more inclined to assume the role of a hunter and to "conquer" women. As a hunter, the mere thought of having something like love "conquer" me is very scary. No man wants to give up control to his emotions -- especially one as powerful as love.



In closing, if I could redo anything from my past, I would convince myself that women aren't the evil, conniving and manipulative people that I once thought they were. I would have been more open with my internal feelings and would have learned to say, "I love you," more freely without worrying about the repercussions of losing my manhood by expressing my emotions. Sadly, my old way of thinking forced me to believe that expressing emotions such as love was a sign of weakness. In reality, expressing love and embracing the emotions that accompany love is a sign of strength and courage. I lost a lot of good relationships in my past because I was too much of a coward to confront aspects of love that I once viewed as frightening.

However, even with failed relationships, we take something along with us through our future ones. With every relationship we share with another human being, we learn about aspects of ourselves that help us to grow as a person. Some people choose early within their life to stop exploring the wonders of love and the adventures that come with giving a large piece of yourself to another.

Love comes with a huge amount of risk. That risk is allowing ourselves to become vulnerable and opening ourselves to a lot of painful moments when the person we love does something to shake and rattle the foundation of our beliefs. In the end, though, love should always be viewed as the most necessary and exciting risk we'll ever take. Money lost can be earned again. Material possessions can be replaced. Love, however, is the one thing that can fill us with immense amounts of happiness -- IF WE BELIEVE IN IT AND OPEN OUR HEARTS TO INFINITY.

I could list off a bunch of names and a simple "I'm sorry" for being such a cowardly prick in my past -- but the lessons learned are invaluable. At some point, a man must learn how to be a real man. The key is by embracing the heart of a woman without fear.

Feeding the Homeless

Tonight was an exciting night. I went out to Baltimore and hit a few bars and clubs and had a great time mingling with some very beautiful women. Amazingly, that was not the highlight of my night. That occasion was reserved for after last call when I left the last bar and headed to my car.

I decided to stop by the store to grab a Gatorade and some peanuts to rehydrate from a long night of dancing and sweating. On the way to the store, I passed a man who was covered in a blanket.

"Hey, are you hungry," I asked him.

"Yes."

I went into the store and got my stuff and proceeded to get him two large hotdogs and a bottle of water. Afterwards I went back outside and gave him the food and sat down next to him.

"Do you mind if I eat with you," I asked.

"No. Nobody ever does," he replied.

I sat down next to the homeless man and drank my blue Gatorade while asking him some questions. I asked him how he ended up on the streets and if he had any family.

"I don't got no family, man. My mom died when I was 5. My dad left me when I was a little kid. I don't got no family at all. I've been out on the streets since I lost my job over 20 years ago. I don't got nobody, man. I starve most nights and go through the trash cans to find food. "

I thought about what he had said and it really got to me. It hit me right in my heart.

"Well, whenever I come down to the city, I'll buy you food whenever I see you. I'm sorry you are lonely," I said to him.

"You ain't got to be sorry. I've been lonely my whole life. I just need food, man. I just need someone to talk to sometimes."

"Whenever I see you, sir, I'll always stop to talk to you."

I then shook his hand and left.

Paris Hilton to Serve 45 Days. Yeah, Right.

Paris Hilton has been sentenced by Superior Court Judge Michael T. Sauer to serve 45 days in the Los Angeles County Jail. That's the fact. Here is the reality:

* If her appeals fail, she will have to complete her sentence. She is not allowed to use a "pay-as-you-go" jail. These are jails that offer very nice amenities for inmates while costing between $75 and $115 per day. These jails are more like a student dormitory than an actual jail. Inmates are allowed to bring Ipods and even laptops, while also being allowed to pursue other creative activities.
Source: New York Times

* Paris Hilton will most likely NOT serve her entire sentence. Due to overcrowding in California jails, many people with short sentences wind up only serving a few days of their entire sentence. In the case of the famous actress Michelle Rodriguez from "Lost," she only served a couple of hours from her 60 day jail term for her DUI conviction.
Source: Office of the California Governor

* Rich people always have options. That's just how it is. I've avoided jail on one occasion, but not because I was rich -- it was because I was a cunning linguist that knew how to "totally suck up to a judge." I've been to court three times in my life. Once because of something fairly "serious." When you're in a judge's courtroom, for all purposes that judge is now your demi-god. Don't piss him or her off -- and especially don't show up late like Paris Hilton and Michael Jackson did.
Source: CNN.com

All that said, don't drink and drive. It isn't worth it. Even if you get out of spending any real time in jail, you will pay out the nose in increased insurance premiums. This really has no effect on people like Paris Hilton, but for the majority of us, paying $5,000 a year for car insurance is absurd.

Thanks!

(soon to be a lawyer -- in the next few years at least!)
Aphexcoil.

Love's Depth

Love's Depth

Its limitations, limitless.
Its boundaries, boundless.
Its munity, immune.
Its emotion, emotive.
Its end, endless.

... and when you choose to cease loving me, so let it be that love will give me the power to love for two.

Let's Talk about Sex PART II (5 Part Series)

Is not a part of what we like to call "love" the tearing down of personal barriers allowing two people to share the most intimate of experiences? Is it even necessary to mention the word "love" in an article strictly about the joys of sex? This is not just any type of sex -- but raw, sweaty, hot, messy, delicious and passionate sex. The kind of sex that leaves you out of breath but hungry for more throughout the night.

There are, naturally, different types of sex. There is sex, Sex, SEX and of course "HOLY SHIT %(#*^@( GOD I WANT YOU AGAINST MY BODY ALL NIGHT MIND-BLOWING S E X". What's love got to do with it?

I'll begin with some illustrative prose that will eventually lead to a point -- or an orgasm (it's your choice):

The night was slowly growing late as the two sat close to one another on the plush velvet couch. The faint red lights from behind the bar reached across the room, bathing them both in a warm, inviting light. The jazz ensemble performing in the adjacent room played a soothing rhythmic piece. The soft, gentle stroke of his open hand across her smooth face filled her with a growing desire. She slowly drew his face to hers while stroking the back of his head. The long, deep notes of the saxophone resonated with the growing passion that was filling their bodies.

With slight careful pressure, their lips slowly brushed. The soft damp kisses gradually found themselves transforming into ever deeper ones. The saxophone spilled a never-ending note as time dripped down the walls. The distant chatter of conversations from others grew silent as they built a cocoon of intense passion and affection around only them. In an instant, a course of energy shot through their bodies as they embraced each other with growing intensity. The scent of love began to fill the air as the fires of lust burned hot within.

We all have felt at one time or another the emotions and passions represented at this point in our continuing story. It is my intention to express the best type of sex by building upon the subtle feelings and emotions that begin with a shared smile, transform into a mutual series of deep kisses and lead to a rigorous horizontal romping in bed. It is my strong opinion that the progression of lustful passion parallels that of a classical symphony. Symphonies of the "classical style" of Mozart and Haydn during the later part of the 18'th century consisted of four distinct movements. The typical four movement form was a quick binary form or sonata form, slow, a minuet and trio in ternary form and then another quick movement consisting of Rondo form or sonata-rondo.

The first movement is the quick binary form. It is that precise moment when one discovers that spark within another. It is that delightful first dance of subtle physical innuendos accompanied by the excitement of giddy conversation created as a playful ruse to kick-off the exhilarating sexual pleasures to be shared later. It is an opportunity to test boundaries, push them and eventually tear right through them. There is great sex to be had and, by god, a real man has to be the one to give it to her GOOD.

The second movement is the slow form. It is the quiet piece of the symphonic movement where two people find no discomfort in shared silence while they learn to communicate their affections and desires with body language. It is a period of time for playful caresses with a free hand over sensitive parts of her skin. It's a playful choreography of moves and counter-moves that are exchanged so that others haven't the slightest clue that his hand is really down the back of her pants while her hand is down the front of his. Most importantly, time becomes irrelevant. The only relevance in this movement is the moment where one willingly closes one's eyes, dives in and proceeds to put the French into French-kisses.

*End of Part II*

Sneak Preview from Part III

"... but let's get realistic, when a man is buried deep within a woman for the first time, there are three crucial elements that come into play. When push comes to shove, and then another shove, and another ... and ... ohhhh ... mmmmmm ... sorry, let me get back on track."

Midnight at the Bar

Midnight at the Bar


In a concrete cube holding captive
among cacogens in a cacotopia
in a macrocosm of maledicent malists
was a salacious, sagacious sylph

I approached her anocathartic abigail
and said, "Move your feculent fat ass,"
to which she fulminated,
"go fuck yourself with a yad, yordim"

As she waltzed wantonly away
the beautiful one reticently remained
her erogeneity served as the abatis
my ebriousness, the aberuncator

Tacitly, with tenacious temerity
I grabbed the genteel girl
and caressed the convivial connoisseur
which precipitated the pre-eminent procreation

- Aphexcoil