Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Emblem


Tuesday, August 30, 2016

designed to enjoy the lyrics of other peoples lives

    There is nothing like good company. To me the sweet and savory are the ideas, experiences, and sentiments shared when people take the time to open up. What's more fascinating than an idea? What's more unique than any one experience? They are all unique. They all happened once and even when we think they have happened before there are unapparent intricacies we fail to remember. I do believe that we are designed to enjoy the lyrics of other peoples lives. It's undoubtedly a source of knowledge and through history I can envision situations where this was imperative. By imperative I mean drawing upon the anecdotal and recreated experiences of the other.

Unspeakable

Weallcame
Fordifferentreasons
Wealllistened
Atdifferenttimes
Weallshared
Indifferentways...
ButtimepassedandIwatched
AndnowWeallknowsomething
Butitisunspeakable
Itisunshareable
Weallcame
Fordifferentreasons
Wealllistened
Atdifferenttimes
Weallshared
Indifferentways
Timeisgone
Andpeicesleftbehind
Anunspeakabletruth

A.R.

There are no avenues to understanding,
My only hope at clarity comes in flickers,
Small glints in her eyes,
Every decisive move, every sway and turn of her neck,
I see Perfection dancing on her lips.
She is pulling me into motion, overwhelming emotion
Falling, flying, rolling like the crest of water onto sand.
Every touch, every question, every look and smile
She's the sun and the moon,
the dark and the light
and everything in
between.
Deeper
and
Deeper I roll,
likes warm waves into her.

Nova

The basic definition of Nova as defined on Wikipedia is: nova (plural novae) is a cataclysmic nuclear explosion in a star caused by the accretion of hydrogen on to the surface of a white dwarf star, which ignites and starts nuclear fusion in a runaway manner. Novae are not to be confused with supernovae or luminous red novae.


Then of course there are the other definitions with nova being a reference to a novel or as a plural form of novum. However the most interesting definition I saw mentioned  was a star that suddenly becomes thousands of times brighter and then gradually fades to its original intensity

This is descriptive of the universe as a whole...but interesting because there are clearly differing levels of initial intensity.







Destiny or Possibility?

It's so amazing when you think about all the things that lead up to certain things. Let's begin with an example. My conception, or at least everything that led up to it is so interesting to me. Because I can't sum up the odds and chances that even led them to even be in the same state at the same tie I'm just going to address the night they met. In Texas one night in the late eighties they happened to go to the same club the same night. But that's just the beginning. So they both go to the same club; big deal. Well after they show up we have to take into account their influences that night. Their mood, their company, their past relationships, the other attractive individuals, their actual placement in the club, how many drinks they had (or didn't have), the list goes on endlessly. But everything went accordingly. Every opportunity that needed to happen did and they ended up crossing paths.

This leads to another point. The interesting subject of "the butterfly effect". The basic definition of a the butterfly effect is the propensity of a system to be sensitive to initial conditions. It arises from a scientific discussion of the effect of a butterfly's wing flutter on the upcoming weather conditions. How I am relating it to my topic leans more to the original definition however. The possible paths altered by initial decisions, can be a powerful life-changing perspective to adopt. I'm sure everyone has been informed that each decision carries a special weight. But what if you were told there was a science behind this; or a proven algorithm?

Think of yourself as a marble. This marble is set upon a giant rolling hill. By simply moving the marble centimeters, even millimeters, along the hill its course is completely altered and its destination entirely different. Think about where your marble began and the alternate beginnings. It's funny with movies how there are these alternate ending. But what about alternate beginnings. Aren't these much more powerful changers of time and perspective?

What if we could alter our own beginnings and the initial conditions? I'm thinking of this in context with people born into less fortunate situations. Their marble started in a slightly different spot but destined them for a totally different destination. And the fact that a minor decision dictated where the marble began to roll. It almost suggests the notion of destiny. That our parents and their parents and the paths of others around us dictate what we do. As if every possibility is fulfilled simply because it must be.

B Positive

Perspective really is everything. At this point in my life, right here in my room on a Sunday I'm feeling particularly content. In my privilege to be able to feel content I am able to really be honest with myself. More than anything I see that by simply believing things are going well...they do. It's a huge realization when you come to accept that your reality isn't accurately based on what anyone else perceives. For me I spent the majority of my earlier life seeking validation from other people and realities.

Obviously it can be quite difficult to cater to other individuals desires but for some reason something in my brain couldn't get enough. And now I'm living quite on the opposite side of the spectrum; happily I must say. It was necessary for me to have this stage I mentioned before to really even seek a state of mind in which I actively understood happiness is my own.

This goes to speak to the importance of things in our lives as well. I love plenty of aesthetic things, just like anyone does. Love these things, but when they go missing or when they leave I feel it's not right to let them take your happiness. When you realize that you control your happiness, not necessarily the events that you would justify as promoting or inhibiting happiness, it seems happiness is achievable at any moments breath. Contrary to what it seems like, we can still exist with plenty of emotion in this mind state as well.

But what is any mind state but a survival/coping mechanism? When we consider every thought we think as human beings, or instead of saying human rather accepting us as being only biologically relevant, than it becomes evident that every transfer of thought from one cortex to the next is simply a counter to something we've experienced in our perceived reality. Another way to envision this is by identifying our thoughts as mathematical equations. As humans we innately are bound to compare everything occurring outside of us to the process within. That is, we cannot experience any other perspective but ours, with complete integrity. How can I understand how anything looks to you if I can't use my own eyes as vessels to understand and communicate with whats going on behind yours. In the end I guess that I'm saying everything coming in has to filtered in some way. So why not make your own reality? Why not be the sole judge of your consequences, the only interpreter of whats being relayed to your ears, eyes, and hands? In other words be positive and don't let others tell you what your worth or how relevant you are to humanity. The world is what you make it.

Quiet

I've been trying so hard to capture quiet. But no matter what I do I can't. I can't successfully describe it in its full capacity. I can't experience it completely. Nor can I even begin to create it. My only successful attempts with anything surrounding silence have only been my admissions at failure. I am now leaning towards a belief that silence cannot be achieved in description through words. In fact, I believe I am participating in the opposite act. Writing I now see is one the noisiest acts. Quiet more than anything exists within our heads. Writing has been an activity that causes so much noise and clutter inside in my head. Although it may be perfectly quiet, devoid of sound in a place where one is writing, they still cannot achieve silence or quiet. I'm sure anyone reading this has experienced that. Instead to fully enjoy silence we must commit to free ourselves of any activity we are doing; mental or physical. I think now it's even counterproductive to try and seek quiet when its already around you. If it comes to you in silent and lapping waves its power is awesome. There really is nothing like quiet.

Connections

We are seperate conciousness', humans, atoms or however you want to describe it. I think it is our connections that we have we have found unable to describe. The emotion we feel about other beings are these connections. They give this element of the unexplained. They justify the soul. Sometimes we even emote feelings and they don't have a recipient. They are only emoted for personal satisfaction. Again justifying that there must be somewhere for them all to go, or they must at least have a reciever. It seems wired in our brains that if we dont understand something it must be beyond us or that is must supercede is. What if we were to challenge our brains natural tendency to lean towards orders and chronology? Instead, what if we designated everything in a order of equality? Our connections then wouldn't really be connections. Would there even exist a god?

Hegemony

As a youth I remember being amazed with how nearly every style of lifestyle and every type of personality was a possibility in Los Angeles. In a country already more diverse than a good deal of racially homogeneous nations Los Angeles is a city more free-spirited in its celebration of the extremes of life styles than all cities with exception to perhaps New York. You can find the poorest of people in Skid Row (spiritually and financially) less than two miles apart from the richest on Rodeo Dr. This proximity shows the access to wealth is not limited by palpable means but by restrictions caused by mechanisms of hegemony.

Conflicted

I am often conflicted between two central ideas. I don't like to draw the line but there always seem to be one in my mind. It's like having two people inside you telling you two different and equal ideas. Sometimes I really desire to do what feels natural and what makes me happy. Other times I feel obligations to forces I can't really narrow down. It might sometimes be a parent, media, or our culture that tells us to consider the other. They tell us to consider what will bring "success". But what the hell is success? It's funny to me how we can disappoint people that we he had no choice in whether to live up to their standards or not.

Plurk

Plurk

Plurk has been a surprise for me. At first I wasn’t very comfortable with its format and design. I wasn’t used to sharing with people the little things throughout the day or checking a site as often. The basic concepts of plurk are easy to understand or one could say compare. For one, it’s much more interactive than other social network sites. It depends much less on visual stimulation, requires its users to limit their words, provides incentive to check regularly, and is one of the best catalysts of conversation. These are the basic structural differences with other social network sites, in my opinion. There are more subtle differences though that are hard to notice.

  Plurk seems to function as a singularity at times and other times it’s apparent that the small nano-characteristics have an equal stake in its appearance. To me it functions a bit like a program in which it is both easy to see the sum of its parts but with a change of perspective you say individual programs coming together to give the appearance of a larger multi-functioning organism. Plurk exists in a digital online world, but it’s just as alive as any other organism. It’s obviously not in need of physical nourishment like we know it but it’s still needs input to stay alive. The physical characters we input are its food and nourishment. Without denial, I think it’s fair to say that it grows the more we feed it but not in the traditional sense of physical growth. The Filth in particular really illuminates what I’m talking about. The author’s own vision of future planet earth depends on his own interpretation of growth. I think that one thing I can definitely draw from his interpretation is that growth is ultimately the strengthening of previous characteristics. The prevalence of what we know as “deviant” sexuality in The Filth is a representation of how characteristics naturally become more of what they already are. Because a characteristic persists and lives on it naturally becomes stronger. I see a bit of Darwinism here but on a more emotional and mental level.

  For example, an emotional feature or characteristic on plurk that over time gains popularity with the readers tends to flourish over time. If a user experiences a high volume of other readers participation than the writer will be motivated to publish in this likeness again in the future. I’m not trying to make a science of plurk but I’m just pointing out its characteristics. On plurk we become more of what we already are. At first it’s a scary proposition to lay this out for people to interpret. Plurk warms us up to that activity until things like karma aren’t really important and plurk becomes an outlet, a part of your consciousness. I really do admire this about plurk. Maybe more than anything I have been lucky with the people that I began plurking with. But I really do believe regardless that out revelations only increase in their “secret” quality I guess you could say.

  One of the best quotes in regards to this is from Life Extreme; a quote from Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche.

  “It is not true that unconscious goal in the evolution of every conscious being (animal, man, mankind, etc) is its “highest happiness”; the case, on the contrary, is that every stage of evolution possesses a special and incomparable happiness neither higher no lower but simply it’s own. Evolution does not have happiness in view, but evolution and nothing else…

  To finalize this idea, I want to involve my own faith and prevalence of my own ideas in my work. For whatever reason I have a hard time detaching myself from my line of thinking. Plurk has proven in many ways that I do two things at one time when I write an entry. On one hand I censor what I say and on the other I can’t really control what comes out. The emotion of what is being said really can’t be dictated, but I can sensor what emote about, if that makes sense. If I’m feeling happy or content my comment must in some manner reflect that, It will reflect it in the manner that I feel most comfortable with. The manner tends to project that I am calm and in control and that I am enjoying my life regardless. It also says that I want to find my place relative to other beings. That I’m curious to find out how the journey goes for them, life that is.

  Plurk is one of the few things I will carry on with from an old class. I feel plurk is one of the most productive things I can do online. Perhaps it is because of the individuals I began this with but the dialogue is utterly engaging and informative. I get off plurk feeling better than I got on. I always have learned something new. I can get a laugh. I can find an awesome song or band I have never heard. I can get whatever I want from a Plurk. An online world but devoid of everything we don’t individually want.

  As these defining characteristics apply to me you can notice when you take a good look at all my comments. I am a firm believer in what I would believe as the real qualities and aspects of life. I find particular comfort in the things I can see and feel, or anything I can perceive in some capacity. Maybe I’m a control freak and maybe what I’m doing doesn’t really make sense in the long time. But as of right now and in this particular moment of my life it fits me best to adhere to this. My survival right now requires that I embrace who I am. I think plurk reaffirms this for all of us. It proves that if we stick to who we are we can still try to embrace other styles at he same time. We are who we are. Our perspective and our genetics bind us, and in this regard we mostly become more of what we already are.

The Small

The relevance of the small in our world is quite simply determined largely by perspective. I believe that in some aspects we can say that the word nano is a perspective. Nano demands that we give the small an equal chance at importance and demands that the building blocks are acknowledged as their own entire entities. It challenges the conception of where these building blocks really begin or end.

  Interestingly enough I really do believe humans in general exist on a nano level. Examine the universe on a larger level and our galaxy can become a part of the nano. What makes this conversation so difficult is that it doesn’t really allow for anything to be categorized. And since nothing can be categorized doesn’t that make everything fall in the same category? Does everything deserve to be considered in the nano since we can’t define the end and beginning of perspective? I’m just toying with an idea here.

  Within the realm of a classroom I see it working like this. There are some obvious beginning points such as the different opinions, the different life stories, or the different ways everyone presents himself or herself. Or a more interesting place to start is the things we don’t share. The secrets we never come to reveal or the thoughts we have about each other that go unsaid. This is an interesting part of the nano because it goes unobserved because of the inability to observe it. But we can agree it all contributes equally. These things I have mentioned that go without being discussed are the catalysts of all the things we say. I believe within the classroom perspective they exist on the nano level of ideas. Ideas we don’t entertain with others and the information we choose not to share contribute more than we can really give credit. If we were to write down every thought we had what percent would we share? Then from that percentage I would be interested to see what preceded the other.

  The small really isn’t all that small on a conceptual level. If the entire conceptual building is nothing without its blocks than the small isn’t really all that small in meaning and quality. The more we conversed in class the more I begin to feel that. I almost at one point didn’t really even want to say anything because I was getting lost in translation. It was hard for me to say anything because I began to feel that everything was apart of the small or that everything was equally small. Which at that point it almost becomes hard to share when you realize that anything you say is equally relevant; or equally irrelevant.

  This is where the discussion gets even more interesting. The small challenges our thinking of chronological importance. The hierarchy way of thinking is either affirmed or negated by the small depending on your mood. To me it seems that it is our natural genetic disposition to adhere to a hierarchy, and the small, in the context of our class nanotexts, really became to appear not all that small. The power of ten video was another media that never really left my mind on this subject. Essentially you can go infinitely small and infinitely big. Then where is the beginning and where is the end?

  This question is very revealing of what we as humans designate important, relevant, and meaningful. The way in which we do this is much like the camera that slowly backed in and out of the frames. However we are born into a certain frame that our society, parents and genetics predispose us to view. The small and the large are largely designated in our younger years and as we get older it becomes apparent that we have control over the focus of the lens.

  The discussion of the small in our class has shown me more than anything to make my life my own. That is, I must decide on my own what’s really going to be small, what’s going to be important, and what is going to be of meaning. It becomes clear that no one really has the answers and that no lens is the right lens.

  The butterfly effect in my last blog post also comes to mind. The small subtle differences in where the marble is placed, vastly affect where it ends up. This is the epitome of the definition of small becoming ambiguous and of the small completely turning the tables on us. Where does it all begin and where does it all end? It seems we can’t really reach a consensus. In the end the small and our discussion of it in Nanotexts has proven that it’s all up to the individual.

Animal and Machines 

  This topic has the most appeal to me as a writer. The question, what is the difference between animals and machines, if any, is full of debate.

 Well for one humans have designed machines. Somewhere in our brain there came an idea to bind metal together with electrical currents. I argue that machines came about through the desire for an industrious tool for mankind. Machines are the manifestation of several human desires. Perhaps they manifest our desire to make work easier. Perhaps they manifest our desire for creation. Perhaps they embody our desire for control. And maybe they are all of these things. But I find it hard to say they are of they same class and distinction.

  The issue for me arrives when we discuss programming. A machine can be programmed at the beginning of its creation to perform a certain task. A human is born with a program, essentially genes, but innumerable outside sources affect what task it performs. The way in which programming occurs is vastly different as well. The machine is programmed at a hardware level. Meaning that machine can be stopped at any moment and reprogrammed. It doesn’t have any will. It doesn’t have any desire or say in it’s programming. In this light the machine becomes just a piece of a human.

  A human is programmed steadily and over time. And the human has some say, to a degree, in what is programmed. It almost is as if humans program themselves. A human is programmed through communicative means. These communicative means shed light on how programming a human requires persuasion. At the essence of things a human needs to be reassured that it has control in its program while a machine either doesn’t know any better or this portion of thought is simply void.

  Can a machine actively create? I think no. I believe that this is also a defining difference. The machine has boundaries to captivate or give meaning to experience. What makes the Terminator movies so interesting to watch is how this line is crossed by the robots when they begin to exert their own will. If will can one day be programmed it seems that this would enable robots to be closer in the discussion binding humans and machines. Will is synonymous with survival and machines don’t have this need at their core.

  One similarity between machines and animals/humans that allows me to believe will can and one day be programmed is the belief that our own programs adhere to code. The programs inside us that drive our own desires and emotions adhere to a code. It is possible on some level to interpret everything we are and do in numbers. This makes it possible to see a pattern, something discernable and something that can be rewritten. Humans, masters at replication will undoubtedly discover a way of inscribing this to a machines program.

Music

Exactly what is music? Why does it move us? Is there anything better at setting a mood? What is more pervasive and more universal than a love for music? It never comes down to whether or not you like music but rather what kind. Yet I don't have a universal anser as to what and why we all like music. To best discover my reasons for loving music I think it's best why to describe why I like a particular song.
I digress.  As we often say, "...the beat goes on." It reflects our attitude about life. How no matter what comes or goes this beat goes on. In a song where the base is missing or prevalent it has been determined by how much the artist wants to make his listeners feel the aforementioned theme. But leave the base behind and you still can make a good argument that harmony can do this on it's own.
The voice of the song is mesmerizing. It takes me back to a time when I had just got out of a bad time. But what's really cool about this is that I enjoy listening to the song because I am able to still listen to it today. Proof that life indeed does goes on and that happiness is imminent, just a matter of sooner or later. There is something that I was exposed to early in life that made the noises his voice makes synonymous with persistence and patience. Maybe repeated positive experiences with these noises around or just repeated exposure to media that had a positive aura with these noises. Either way it seems that I'll never be alone when there is music around. It's like hearing someone tell you of their struggle and yet admitting there is some beauty amidst pain.
It seems music is more than anything a drug. A way of getting away. Because we always come running back to music like addicts. For me I use music to get away from my insecurities. I often take a method of living from a song and make it mine for those few minutes I'm listening. Because of though I am may be feeling a lack of confidence, loneliness, or confusion, the song allows me to break away from that state of consciousness. Music seems to allow us to alter our state of consciousness. Here in college if alcohol is involved so is music. I see now it's because it's all ways of alter our consciousness. Just remember the last party you went to. The music was probably so loud that even if you wanted to remain in your current state of consciousness you had no choice. But that's point right? I always wonder why so many people love parties other than obvious reasons (like the hot girls that are there, or the fun in being under the influence). Really it's just a place where an altered consciousness has no choice but to take over. And that's appealing to so many of us.
So next time you see someone altering there conscious then you know that either they don't like it or they just enjoy the others better.

IDK

I have an obsession with recreating the past. It's a derivative of my control issues. I'm someone moving through the world with high sensitivity (in the literal sense of perceiving the five senses with an acute and sharp response), an insatiable taste for understanding and knowledge, and deep desire to not feel as replaceable as world and cosmic history might suggest.

I'm a paradox. I want to know the intimate details of moments that have preceded me. But I'm paralyzed when my mind accepts that these moments did not include me, more precisely my presence was unnecessary to the momentum of the moment. It's chilling. It feels like I'm a character in a movie that I never knew I was going to be a part of. Something binds me to perceiving these moments. It's similar to a child with eyes glued to that horror flick they shouldn't be watching. The fear they feel is clear when you approach them but what's even more fixating to watch is the pull of excitement they have. Is there something they are about to learn, are they about to observe something that will reveal the mysterious ways of the universe to them?

I know that's how I feel trying to recreate the past. What I can say with certainty is that my obsession is more or less a revelation of an opposite force.

The future is entirely what my obsession with the past has to do with. I'm an actor,once again, in the most convincing and suspenseful movie I have ever witnessed.

The people in the my life flow in and out with incredible force. I glance into their eyes and see the confusion we share. They too are characters in their own movie. I watch their eyes flicker and take me in with befuddlement as to why I am here before them. The fear is latent.

With lovers this takes a form. I lay beside mine as she is sleeping. There is no great facade of smiling through our fear; we couldn't possibly share this much time and space without folding under the pressure of that. Indeed, that's is the tying bond of love to me. When you deem her/him the person that will watch you take off the mask. Watching someone willingly step away from their awareness of this movie we all step into every morning is beautiful. Finally here we are ditching our role as actors where we incessantly try to be half of a second ahead of our lines and the next scene coming up looms on consciousness. It's beautiful to have someone like this but yet she doesn't entirely fit this role. She tries her best but I'm left still hungry.

You know that feeling of treading water in the middle of a lake? Your far enough out where help wouldn't come quickly. It's obvious that everything is resting on your shoulders and the physical ability to stay afloat. Isn't that what it feels like to step out the door every day? Treading water isn't so hard right? But sometimes we grow tired. Sometimes its uplifting to just have someone there that will tread water with you. Watching them is in itself a replenishing act.

And it's beyond comforting to know someone would save us. It's necessary to not falling prey to despair. In the end, love and its comforts are not describable in words. There is no doubt in my mind that we have another unperceived dimension where love and bonds like these persist. The pull of them is too strong. Or maybe I'm just scared that we will never understand them.

Internal Strength

It's the coolest thing when you meet someone new and you feel right away that you'll be good friends. It's something you can't really explain but it is undoubtedly an aura that exists. For some reason I'm given new hope everytime this happens and I can't explain why I lose it after a time. I can definitely say that meeting people who believe in something and truly know who they are is something that inspires me to wake up every morning and see them again. It's a force that is not changed by anything, no matter how powerful a distraction. I admire internal strength and fortitude much like anyone else, but sometimes I feel that I'm particularly keen to it. There's something to be said about the natural respect someone commands when they carry this. Maybe it's a sign to what sustains us as human beings and why we are so endured to the people who have this. I hope that for my friends and aquaintences alike I give them this. Everyone should.

Style

I get frustrated with my writing style sometimes. I feel as if I always end up going in the same direction. I'm sure that this is a frustration that is felt among all who write regularly. I can't break from my perspective and I can't take on other styles as effectively as I want. There are other styles that I admire and through reading and analyzing their work I have adopted a style that I most relate to. But I can't help but feel stagnate. There are these conflicting ideas that I should be firm in who I am and what I have to say but then the more I learn the more I want to tweak my style. At what point do I lose myself and when do I become fickle and wavering? I know its not for anyone else to determine but I can't seem to determine this myself. It seems life is just being conflicted 24/7.

Human

Sitting here in the early morning I am realizing that I am becoming more and more enamored with a class of mine. In fact I am afraid of it ending. Why? Because for me there is nothing greater than sharing the human experience. We are all doing just that everyday. And not only are we sharing our experience but we are without intention finding the beauty in it all.
Every day when I come to that class I feel a connection with everyone in it. For those that haven't yet spoken and probably will remain in silence I still feel the same. I know that somewhere in their hearts they are stirred in little ways every day by what is being said and what is being asked. I feel that anyone reading is now equipped to hear my heart and acknowledge my words as my own personal truth. Maybe I'm wrong in thinking this but I still believe that everyone contributing to this class now understands we cannot deny any truth because truth is personal. It's not about what you think or what most think. If it's real to me than it must be reality. 
I want to challenge everyone's perspective with this blog. I want to make everyone reading this uncomfortable. I want to make it heard to finish. I want you to truly understand my world. Everyday when I enter the class I realize that I am among a small group of people like me. One other to be exact. I know it may be hard to sense but everytime I come I still feel outside. I still feel apart of another world; an entirely different dimension almost. My culture is so much different than the people I see here before me. My values are little different; sure. Hell, my dislikes and likes surrounding how I communicate and what I find funny are even different. But this is true for any human being right? True. But there still is more. 
The importance of Race is that each and every day you all can hide behind your skin color; behind veils of perception. The perception of being white. White which has become the race to which we now compare every other race. The golden standard amongst humans or the measuring device. This means that were you all to say nothing or do nothing we could only assume that you all had some characteristics in common. But my race, my skin color is a signal marker. I love all I am from head to toe and the complexion of my skin but, I cannot hide like you all can throughout the day. I cannot even fake feeling apart of a larger body like most because I am brown. I instead have to engage each day with a certain positivity knowing that I won't really feel "inside" or apart of the world I see. And that I won't necessearily acheive validation from anyone else but myself. It's such a privledge to be able to bask in a veil. At face value none of the majority ever appears to be much different. This is a gift none cany deny. Everyday I get up I am subject to the wondering eyes of everyone I come across. For one I myself realize my difference and secondly the majority also does. I'm not going to get into stereotypes because I'm sure we've all heard plenty about them all. But don't forget their importance. What are the stereotypes of the majority? Does the majority even have a stereotype? Or can they just be what ever they want? Consider these things. 
America in general should consider these things. That their is entire world of people who do not look like them. Assuredly much different with much different concepts of what "reality" is. But just because something is different or entirely something that is not what one is used to doesn't mean it's better or worse. In a world where we often assert opinions as facts it's also very important to keep in mind that everything is an opinion. Because we do all have seperate conciousness' we all have adopted seperate very realities. All in all I'm saying consider all things equal. We can't designate what intelligence is better than the next, or who is more attractive, or more competent. We can't do those things because at any time this is only determined by a majority. Just because there is a majority doesn't mean the majority speaks truth. It's just a system. No better than the next. Realize the benefits of being apart of the majority and try to understand as much as possible what minority really feels like. 
Everyone born onto earth is human. They all have as many hopes and dreams as anyone else. They are all given a gift of life and the skill to survive. Most importantly their voices and opinions should speak as loud as anyone elses. Don't run away or be scared from the things that are different or that you don't know. Engage them. Learn to appreciate their beauty. There is beauty in everything.

Code

 My freshman year of college has been full of epiphanies and this idea about us each having a code really made sense. It felt so natural to think about the idea that we must all accept our own personal code, with it's own flaws and natural patterns. A code cannot be replicated, and each one is entirely different from the next, with no margin of difference greater in one than the other.
By realizing that every code is in fact different it also becomes easier to adopt several other ideas. Ideas like all in life is equal, there is no concept of good and bad, and there are infinite ways to write each code of living by. I have said previouly that I believe life is based on survival. Or that in other words life is all about perpetuating life. Even as I am sitting here writing this it plays a powerful role. What are my motives? Essentially they are survival , and sharing an idea or code I have discovered and then in turn making my own survival easier by giving other human beings a copy of this code. But then there is an idea that this is "selfish" or "superficial" that just floats in the air. Now maybe this is just my own mind trying to break from my code and refute my robotness or maybe I am sensing the reaction of future readers. Either way I think it's important that as writers and learners we stop trying to deny the natural desires of our brain. Otherwise I really believe we give up our greatest weapon.
Now by no means am I saying we should never consider the other. I am saying that everything should be considered when we ask questions. That we should leave behind concepts that once held us back about good or bad ideas unless the ideas actually limit who gets to share them and to what extent. I'm simply saying that we should consider everything beautiful. Or that we should learn to see the beauty in everything. Simply because something is there and exists we should appreciate it's ability to persist. I really think things would be easier for us us if we learned to truly be grateful of the remarkable act of living.

Dreams

I've had a lot of feelings this last few days. I usually believe it makes it easier for me to write when this happens. This hasn't been the case. In truth all my feelings I could have shared, albeit I thought they were too personal. Or rather too much risk involved. But I think taking bigger steps towards risks is essential to me growing as a human being. So, I'm going to challenge myself and I hope anyone reading this can understand the risk and how hard this really is.
In the early morning hours of today my chocolate lab Amber died. I have never had a pet die in my lifetime. The sheer suprise of losing her took my breath away the moment I heard it. For the first few moments I wasn't even sad in the true sense of the word. I was more than anything in disbelief. My concious brain, my memories, and everything that remembered Amber only knew her as alive. I could only remember the deep warm glow of her eyes. Her timidness of everything loud and unknown. The way she couldn't stop smiling and shaking her entire body when she realized she had your approval. These things will forever remain smile makers. The sadness took over several minutes later when a realization sets in. You realize you cannot ever access these things again. And that like a doorway into certain sentiments and feelings the lock has been put on forever. And then you understand that you love them like a person. You see their amazing impact on you and the equality of life, human or animal.
There really can't be enough said the fragility of all things in life. I'm sure Amber in her own way of thinking as an animal has no idea that today was her last day here. And surely neither did anyone in my family. But when the moment came I was asleep in bed. There was nothing romantic or cinematic about they way she passed away. And unlike the
popular concept of a sad soundtrack playing to the tune of departure the passing was instead quiet and unfamiliar as doctors attempted to save her but couldn't.
All this just made me think of the passing of humans. And I say passing because I know they leave the physical form we know but I don't know where they go. The act of accepting death is a timeless task. You cannot ask anyone to surrender their memories of anyone when they die. Nor can you ask them to relinquish the dreams and desires they had for the future. Yet broken promises and painful nostalgia are not all those who live on are left with. Most assuredly, there is a piece of the passed inside those they impacted.
I can only imagine what my father's own reality of his deceased brother, father, and mother. Three different people to him with all their own set of bitter memories, passions, and sweet nostalgic time spent. What are his dreams like and how do they all live in him today?
And so I have also made another decision. I don't want surrender anything in love, passion, and friendship anymore. Time will not stop moving. How can you pace something if you don't know the distance? It is simply best to follow the heart in all directions it pulls I'm beginning to believe. I'm aware of the possible pain but pain makes a human. I don't mind hurting if it means seeing things to the end. Most of all I want to live on the edge because when I fall off I'll know what awaits.
I recently had a conversation with someone who lost their father a few years ago. And she said to me the most compelling words I have heard in a long time. When I asked her the hardest part about not having him around she said that her dreams of him hurt the most. She still doesn't have any idea of the emotion she stirred in my heart when she said that or the understanding I truely had. The truth in her words was so inspiring because I began to realize something else at that very moment. That dreams are a gift. That although she found it hard to dream about him I think more than anything she didn't want the dream to end.
Of course I also realized she just wanted him back. Or that the dream wasn't as tangible as she wanted. But I do see that dreams are real. That not only do our loved ones live in memories but they may come back at any time we are reminded of them. Perhaps not in a form we may want but still a form. The power of a dream to change our actions in the moment, the now, speaks to its reality. Her father and my dog still are alive just in a different way. A dream is all the proof I need.

So this is the raw copy ...im going to edit and fully turn in to something sharper. coming soon.

Torn

I'm excited to be home but I can't say that it's fully where I want to be. Now that I am home I have noticed it doesn't completely feel like home. I have to admit that part of it is just me not really accepting this place as my home. But part of it is just this place not really accepting me. I love my family and I can't say enough about the good people here but something is different. I knew this was going to happen and I had talked about it before. But now that it's actually happening in front of my eyes it has a prophetic quality right now. My childhood is essentially leaving me, or I'm leaving it. Everything is about business now. My friendships and relationships, for whatever reason, have taken on a form that is more apparently a transaction. Certainly it says something about where I am in my life and what my motivations are but it's weird to watch this transition and be conscious of it. Life is without a doubt a cycling of stages.

I really cannot wait to be in Bellingham again. I never foresaw myself genuinely saying this. But it's surely genuine now. I have a good home life and I can't complain about anything here at home but I feel like I'm interrupting my family's life. They all clearly have their own things going and when I come home from college I just feel like a guest. Because it's all I will really ever be anymore, at least in my head. It's like when college students come home for the summer there is an obliged attempt at a nostalgic three month respite. I am going to enjoy my summer here at a home and I'm going to appreciate every moment with my family but this summer is certainly different.

Self Critique

it's difficult to attain any sense of complete content with my own development as a person. Everything and anything can become a comparison. And somehow at the end it always seems to lead back to my own personal flaws. It seems that anyone who writes and anyone who wants to write well must past though this transition. A phase where anything remains in question even the question itself. Self critisicm, although it hurts the most is really light at the end of the tunnel. To really understand something, it must completely envelope you until it's perspective becomes yours. Is there any greater example of this than the self? It seems the first step to a feeling of enlightment is truly understanding the self. And in understanding, knowing how to change when needed.

When Summer Leaves

I'll start by saying where I am and tell how I got here later. I'm going to eastern wash univ. right now, I live in Cheney, in a small lonely and cold apartment, I am finishing the last of core requirements classes and spend most of my time hanging out with my friends and girlfriend. I never would have thought I would have been here. This summer was rough with my parents. There was just a tension there all summer long and an irritation was definitely there for both me and them. I know they probably thought I wasn't being helpful around the house, got progressively annoyed with my late night returns, and my apparent affinity for the college life. No one wanted this rift, but it was natural and it happened partially because both parties didn't take the right steps to make my transition to being an adult go smoothly. I'm not going to go into depth about it but in general it was summer filled with argument after argument and long periods without seeing or talking to each other. All along I spent alot of time with my now girlfriend Jorden. We re-met at a club downtown after originally meeting at Sonic where we worked together during the summer of our sophomore years in high school. I always thought she was beautiful and easy enough to talk to, but beyond that I knew I had been filling in the gaps. I have another post to write about her but I''ll finish by saying that now I'm here at eastern and trying every day to become a better student than I have been in the past. It's not easy at all but each day I can say it gets a little easier.

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