Archive for April, 2007
Is it wrong to dream?
Apr 28th
I was starting to write this as a poem, but I was forcing it and I didn’t feel comfortable with it. I’d rather write it out instead in a more direct form.
I managed to have a brief conversation with someone I hadn’t talked to in a while. She’s bogged down at school, like most people our age, but she’s also doing pretty well for herself. One thing that struck me is that she’s actually got publishers looking at her writing (poetry and prose). I felt a bit jealous as I let it sink in. Her writing is pretty good, but I always thought I was decent enough to deserve a brief look over by someone from some company desperate to make a quick buck. Over the years, that’s become my dream. To have my writing be something that could be meaningful and supportive. Am I silly to have such a dream?
Let’s face it (no, I’m not looking for pity), I don’t have many skills. Writing is the thing I’m best at. Whether or not that’s good or slightly pathetic is up to the reader, I guess. I do know that I work diligently at it and I try to make every piece a part of my feelings and thoughts. That’s why I’ve slowed down considerably over the past year. I used to crank out ten to fifteen pieces a month and they were just lacking in everything except raw, uncontrolled emotion. I thought it was a good thing, but I’ve learned that you need balance. Every time I write, now, I try to make it meaningful. I try to give meaning to every word I type out and really attempt to make every single piece something that impacts me. If it can’t affect me, the writer, how could it possibly get through to anyone else?
I wish I knew how to get better. I try to find new directions, but it’s hard to change the way you think. I’ve really worked at expanding the vocabulary in each piece and that’s actually worked pretty well. However, how do I change the pace or overall aura of each piece? If the writing is an extension of who I am, how can I just change it up so more people get interested? I DO want people to like what I write. It’s no longer enough just to make myself better. I want more. I dream of more. Is that wrong? Is it silly? How does one reach a dream? How long does my arm have to be? There are so many questions.
Strung Together
Apr 25th
Strung Together (4/25/2007)
My eyes weigh a ton and my mind is diluted
By thoughts of a nothing, like a river run through it
Doused in the chemical, I feel so unstable
Like a dream ’bout to burst in an ordinary fable
Grind to the bone, these fingers I type with
A replacement for drugs and privatized violence
Stuck in between a dysfunctional mindset
An image that stabs, but I won’t close my eyes yet
I just stare as I argue and fight over these things
Cause some never bother ’til they suddenly need things
While I’m thrown to the wayside for dreams of much better
You pluck at these strings that would keep me together
These thoughts interwoven, now tangled in madness
A clenched fist for her that is tearfully tragic
I hate every minute I spend in delusion
When I find that a dream is just one damn illusion
But I catch myself in it and blissfully witness
What never had truth from beginning to finish
I’d watch it all die if I thought that I’d like it
I’d cut out my mind, if I could, just to spite it
But that wouldn’t help me, anger won’t fix this
Sadness won’t work, nor will ears that could listen
My fingers won’t solve this by writing this bullshit
I can’t hide from beauty that renders me stupid
It’s all interwoven and I’m tangled right in it
I’ll push it away then cry when I’m finished
I’ll punch at the walls just for one more encounter
Then watch it all die while the whole world has found her
But I’m sick of this nonsense and poetically writing
I’m so fucking sick of the mind that I’m fighting
To think what I thought was all fucking bullshit
Though I’d do it again ’til the moment I do this
Cause I can’t get it over, I’m stuck in this image
I say it’s all done, but there’s never a finish
I curse at myself when I stare at your picture
I hate every feeling that says that I miss her
Notes: I started writing this one way, but fatigue and a never ending flow of distracting IM’s only served to completely destroy my focus and anger me. I just went with it. I’m tired of trashing poems and deleting them because they didn’t come out as I had planned. It may suck, but I wrote it and that’s all that should count. I’ll have my highs and my lows. Some will just suck bad, but at least they’ll be out there.
Joined the Flickr Craze
Apr 23rd
I decided that I might as well use my Samsung Blackjack’s 1.3 mega pixel cam for once and take some shots every now and then. With that said, I decided to create an account on Flickr and upload two pictures I’ve had for a while. I actually took 4 more on a bike ride today, but I screwed up the settings on the cam and everything looked like crap, so I decided to not post them. Either way, you can find the link to my pictures under the “Links” section on the right or, if you’re too lazy to scroll, you can just click here.
Review: V for Vendetta
Apr 19th
I don’t like movies that ask you to think too much. I’ve been a pretty generic movie viewer and I thought that was fine. That changed tonight.
I’m going to break tradition here and put my summation first: V for Vendetta is now my personal favorite movie. The ideology of the passion for truth and the lust for freedom, not for one self, but for one’s fellow man, permeates throughout this film and stirs the soul of anyone who has ever felt a shred of rebellion flow through their veins. Some label this film a rehash of old ideas. Surely, it is not a new idea to wish for something better. Our own country was founded on the belief of fighting against a tyranny designed to suppress the freedoms of thought and passion. That is what V does. It was the villain in “Batman Begins” that taught the important of theatrics. Where Batman uses theatrics, V encapsulates the idea and mesmerizes all who lay eyes upon him. It’s not his stylized finesse, though. No, it’s the words that captivate and move the being. Delivered with a ferocious pace and with an elegance found in few, the words are bound together by the truth that everyone, at one time or another, felt that same wave of passion encompass them. It is this idea that enables this film to quickly mean so much to the viewer. I watched it and I listened. She was right. V is all of us.
10/10
Smile Empty Soul “Jesus is the Manager at Wal-Mart”
Apr 18th
Yes, the video sucks because it was shot by one guy with a complete inability to stabilize his arm and absolutely no budget or skills for the editing. Either way, it’s a catchy song.
Dream Junkie
Apr 17th
Dream Junkie (3/17/2007)
I feel trapped in the illusions of an optimistic hope
But I’ll try to break the glass with a sober kind of note
As I sit and read the letters that you wrote with pure intention
I feel safe to fade away for the sake of self protection
Cause it pains me just to mention all the arbitrary waiting
And how I filled with kindness when I knew you wouldn’t save me
The signs I chose to see were never by the road side
These figments of imagination conjured by my own mind
But was I wrong to hope and perservere for what I wanted?
I feel like a such a dope, it’s crystal clear you never wanted
I was working for a happenstance that never had a prayer
Falling for a dream girl that’s personified by air
But still I’d breathe you in if I ever had a chance
I’d let you fill me up and then flow out through my hands
I’d actually alliterate another anxious letter
I’d speak but make no sense, but love that I feel better
In those day dreams of perfection, I tried to fight reality
The dreams were so much better and served to try to balance me
Every situation was a way that I’d escape it
Hiding from the truth of this stagnant situation
But I guess alliteration won’t serve as medication
These words won’t heal the pain from a wound’s proliferation
Forgive my aggravation, but the anger’s what I need now
To cover up the scars and depression that would seep out
Cause everything is flowing, ricocheting in a heart beat
Another pump of venom to devastate me partly
Left to question agony, my anger and my sorrow
Disdain for yesterday, but disappointed by tomorrow
The dreams were all I had, an escapist with his mistress
A dose for when I’m sad, I’m out, and now I’ll miss this
My prescription has expired, a junkie left in coma
Numb to the reality he wishes would be over
Notes: It’s about a girl. That’s all I’m going to bother saying on the meaning. Technically speaking, I struggled a bit and decided that instead of forcing one core concept, I would let it evolve more as my mind expanded on my thoughts and emotions. Simply put, the second half is a bit different than the first half, but it’s much more honest and pure because of that.
Always Informed
Apr 16th
It’s amazing how there is so much information out there for us to consume.
Today, with the horrific events that took place at Virginia Tech, this idea of complete access to information outside of what’d given to us by the major media outlets has really shone through. Let’s start with the coverage of the actual event. The best video footage we have of anything related to the shooting did not come from a camera crew. Instead, a student, who immigrated from the West Bank, stood close enough to police to capture video of them rushing a building as twenty seven shots were fired. Without him there, the chaos of the situation would have much less of a face value, so to speak.
Beyond that, though, and what really drove me to post this, is the fact that while news programs and websites do not have specific information about the event, people over at Neowin, both members of the VT student body and friends with those who are part of the college community, have a lot of information regarding the likely motivation. It seems to be that the shooter’s first victims, at the dormitory, were the RA (Residence Adviser) who told him to “Get the fuck out” [1] and then his ex-girlfriend. He then proceeded to the next building in search of his ex’s new boyfriend. [2] [3]
Now, I know, none of this is proven, just yet, but that information is already there and, unless you are a member of Neowin or Facebook, you’d probably have no idea. We’re always informed these days. With a phone or a keyboard, you can talk to someone who knows someone involved or, in this case, hear it from those directly affected or on the scene. [4] [5] [6] The world can seem so large, but it has become increasingly small. We always have access. We’re always informed.
Mystery cat rides the bus
Apr 15th
This has nothing to do with my life. I just thought it was a pretty cool story. It comes from DailyMail.co.uk
Mystery cat takes regular bus to the shops
Bus drivers have nicknamed a white cat Macavity after it has started using the No 331 several mornings a week.
The feline, which has a purple collar, gets onto the busy Walsall to Wolverhampton bus at the same stop most mornings – he then jumps off at the next stop 400m down the road, near a fish and chip shop.
The cat was nicknamed Macavity after the mystery cat in T.S Elliot’s poem. He gets on the bus in front of a row of 1950s semi-detached houses and jumps off at a row of shops down the road which include a fish and chip shop.
Driver Bill Khunkhun, 49, who first saw the cat jumping from the bus in January, said: “It is really odd, the first time I saw the cat jumping off the bus with a group of passengers. I hadn’t seen it get on which was a bit confusing.
“The next day I pulled up on Churchill Road to let a couple of passengers on. As soon as I opened the doors the cat ran towards the bus, jumped on and ran under one of the seats, I don’t think any of the passengers noticed.
“Because I had seen it jump off the day before I carried on driving and sure enough when I stopped just down the road he jumped off – I don’t know why he would catch the bus but he seems to like it. I told some of the other drivers on this route and they have seen him too.”
Since January, when the cat first caught the bus he has done it two or three times a week and always gets on and off at the same stops.
Passenger, Paul Brennan, 19, who catches the 331 to work, said: “I first noticed the cat a few weeks ago. At first I thought it had been accompanied by its owner but after the first stop it became quite clear he was on his own.
“He sat at the front of the bus, waited patiently for the next stop and then got off. It was was quite strange at first but now it just seems normal. I suppose he is the perfect passenger really – he sits quietly, minds his own business and then gets off.”
How cool is that? If you have any other cool animal stories, along these lines, make sure to leave a link in the comments.
A Gift to Myself
Apr 11th
I bought myself a gift. With more hours at work, I have a bit more room to flex and it feels nice. This time, I picked up a Samsung 906BW 19″ widescreen LCD computer monitor. I’m still tinkering with the color settings and I think it may be a while before I get them down, but it’s good enough for now. The thing is beautiful, though, and I’m glad I bit the bullet and spent the money.
If any of you guys or girls have the thing and have good recommended settings for the image, let me know, please. The default Samsung one’s are horrible and the controls are placed so that you get carpal tunnel as soon as you try to fix things. I love the damn thing, but forward facing buttons would have been much easier to get to.
Paperback Reflection
Apr 7th
Paperback Reflection (3/7/2007)
My life’s full of doubts and of mental clouds
I reflect what is wasted behind this shroud
Sick of this headache as my temples pound
Can I shed my own skin and for once get out?
Cause it’s so hard to see me and not reel back
As I stare at myself and let the glass react
It breaks, shows me faces and throws me back
I stab at myself with the shards that crack
And now these scars that I scratch bleed just a little
It may be a new reason but still me in the middle
I bow my head like a willow and turn eyes away
With a hood on my head as I’ll soon hide away
Blind to the something that lies beneath the cover
I stare at the jacket I hate like no other
Nothing is right and my face has no color
This sensation of weight is a gateway to stutter
So how do I lose this? Where can I run to?
Where do I go where they don’t let the sun through?
Hide all the lights that expose imperfection
And drown in a mind where there’s hope and correction
Cause nothing gets read when the cover is ugly
That old line is dead, I know that, just trust me
Judgments are made by the shell that we’re showing
And I go through this hell cause reflections are knowing

