Yesterday was more than I thought I could take. I’ve been filled with more than I’ll likely ever be able to work out, and it was so
good. My newfound dear friend took me through her home town, retelling parts of her life. Floods of emotion swept over me, I was silent. To go so quickly through someone’s life, someone you care about and want to know everything about is tough. I don't want to forget a thing.
Then, last night four friends went out to a place that has become so meaningful to me I wonder if it should be named. We stood telling stories, gazing at stars, but mostly just listening. We all shared something indescribable, and my heart, already full, felt from then on to be tearing at the seams. It was so wonderful, a day I wish I could hold onto and live in forever, but holding on is something I’m bad about, and I’m trying to work that out. Life goes on.
The problems seems, I’m stuck in and out of a dream, and I isolate myself from everyone when I dream. In my daydreams I see what I want to, and picture my life as I would have it. Sleepwalking makes my friends into figments, like the face you don’t recognize in a dream, but you know who they are because you’re making it all up anyway. Is it as C4 says? Do I define my friends? Do they define me? I want to know them as they truly are.
I see things that aren’t there all the time, in the fantasy that gives shape to what appears formless. That I can’t help, and I’m fine with that. When I draw close however, and see what’s really there, I can’t go on acting like what I saw was still there. Wake up, I’m going to live in the real world, learn real love, real sacrifice, real friendship, and leave the phantasms behind. I need you God, the dream world seems so safe, and I’m already hesitating. Don’t let me fade away again.
Mar 30, 2003
Mar 26, 2003
The sky just seemed so endless tonight, and I feel so small
I used to think of endless possibilities, and reaching for those stars
But tonight I just want to hold someone, have them hold me
But wait! There’s more. It’s amazing what a shower and shave can do. I feel renewed, whole again. I’d been waiting for too long for something to happen, it’s a phase I go through, I pray to God that I am through. I feel like I’m waking up in the middle of a mess left by my previous self, and it’s time to clean up. I feel like breaking something, running all night, throwing verse like a rapper, or starting a fight. I know that was shameless, depraved, dumb and heinous. I’d like to be like them, and someday with any luck, I’ll feel like a rapper, and simply not give a fuck.
I credit my desire to write songs to the fact that my laptop is sitting in front of me. Seem odd? Well the power supply is 3 hours away, and it’s my main source of music. My desktop is dysfunctional and has no sound card. So you can imagine the sounds in my head, or wait, maybe you can’t.
Also, oddly, for some reason, credit a DVD or something, I’ve been running words through my head, seeing which ones rhyme, which ones sound like only a girl with an imaginary friend would use in poetry. I talk to myself in the car a lot, and recently every time I come upon a word I like, I sit there trying to rhyme with it. Well, maybe I’m both that girl and her imaginary friend, who knows. Maybe I’ll give myself a chemical burn on the hand and find out. It’s only when you’ve lost everything . . .
It’s just me and a cheese block, what a night. I don’t feel like it, but I’ll study anyway, time to do something constructive with my life.
I used to think of endless possibilities, and reaching for those stars
But tonight I just want to hold someone, have them hold me
But wait! There’s more. It’s amazing what a shower and shave can do. I feel renewed, whole again. I’d been waiting for too long for something to happen, it’s a phase I go through, I pray to God that I am through. I feel like I’m waking up in the middle of a mess left by my previous self, and it’s time to clean up. I feel like breaking something, running all night, throwing verse like a rapper, or starting a fight. I know that was shameless, depraved, dumb and heinous. I’d like to be like them, and someday with any luck, I’ll feel like a rapper, and simply not give a fuck.
I credit my desire to write songs to the fact that my laptop is sitting in front of me. Seem odd? Well the power supply is 3 hours away, and it’s my main source of music. My desktop is dysfunctional and has no sound card. So you can imagine the sounds in my head, or wait, maybe you can’t.
Also, oddly, for some reason, credit a DVD or something, I’ve been running words through my head, seeing which ones rhyme, which ones sound like only a girl with an imaginary friend would use in poetry. I talk to myself in the car a lot, and recently every time I come upon a word I like, I sit there trying to rhyme with it. Well, maybe I’m both that girl and her imaginary friend, who knows. Maybe I’ll give myself a chemical burn on the hand and find out. It’s only when you’ve lost everything . . .
It’s just me and a cheese block, what a night. I don’t feel like it, but I’ll study anyway, time to do something constructive with my life.
It feels like New Years today, much to be thankful for, much to resolve. It feels like the past month has encompassed a year, and though I may not have grown, I have undoubtedly lived.
I’m happy because Buddy, my snake, returned to me last night, wrapping himself around my leg while I was asleep at around 4 a.m. My dad got a job, I got a high F on my Electronics II test, allowing me more of an opportunity to pass than I thought. I’ve met a new best friend, too
I want to resolve to waste less time wishing , and spend more time working.
Guitar, working out, memorization and languages are back in.
I also resolve to write about things other than current or past crushes, and I mean it.
Also, has anyone else ever been upset by what I like to call the milk & peanut butter principle? You know, it's when you're snacking on something that requires something to wash it down with (for me this is everything including orange slices), and you either end up with entirely too much to drink at the end, or not nearly a sufficient amount? This can snowball, depending on how hungry you are and how far it is to the fridge. On many occasions I've returned to the fridge, filled my glass entirely, as it seemed such a long walk from my room to only put in a quarter glass or so, then upon returning finding that I had not nearly sufficient snacks to justify the newly aquired drink. This predicament is exasterbated by things like fixed volume drinks such as cans and small bottles, or heaven forbid, fixed volume foods too. It can go on forever if you're not equipped with enough tupperware or self-control.
Mar 20, 2003
“Maybe someday I won’t be so lonely
And I’ll walk on water, heh, every chance I get.”
Time and Time Again, Counting Crows
A friend of mine has limited me to 3 cigarettes a day, I promised.
I smoke each one like it’s a joint.
My whole week has passed in a smoky haze,
And like a cloud it passes without a trace.
I’m off to dinner with my brother, hope to help him see
Give him a few tips on how not to be me.
And I’ll walk on water, heh, every chance I get.”
Time and Time Again, Counting Crows
A friend of mine has limited me to 3 cigarettes a day, I promised.
I smoke each one like it’s a joint.
My whole week has passed in a smoky haze,
And like a cloud it passes without a trace.
I’m off to dinner with my brother, hope to help him see
Give him a few tips on how not to be me.
Mar 19, 2003
The other day I listened to a woman describing how men, or a particular man in this case, would penny pinch and worry about money, yet spend a great deal of money on their car stereo. That contains a ton of issues I won’t touch right now, but let me tell you why the car stereo issue is so crucial, and needs clarification.
For me, and I believe for others, the car, stereo and all, is our psychotherapist. The feel of turning a corner and simply flooring it, right at that point in the song where the lead guitar comes in, is worth hundreds of dollars and hours spent on some guys’ couch talking about your relationship with your mother. It’s indescribable, it’s cathartic, and it’s soothing to every depth of mind and soul.
To invest in a good sub-woofer or new speakers may be likened to several months, or even years of buying aroma therapy candles, buckets of ice cream, or even sappy romantic movie rentals. To tell you the truth, I’ve done these last three extensively, and have yet to increase the low frequency output of my car’s stereo, but honestly, I believe this is true.
The stereo in my car is easily 20 times better than the cassette deck in the car I learned to drive, and it has immeasurably helped my emotional well being. My car accelerates from 0-60 in under a minute, also an upgrade from my last vehicle, also helping me cope with day to day life. The car is not merely transportation for the body, it goes much deeper than that. My car has heard more of my innermost thoughts than any single human being, and has helped me through more hard times than anyone besides Sallie Mae, god bless her money lending soul.
So yeah, some guys are only trying to impress, get a reaction, stroke their ego, but many of us are just trying to get at spiritual harmony through the only means we know how, a blissful acoustic experience every time we start the car.
For me, and I believe for others, the car, stereo and all, is our psychotherapist. The feel of turning a corner and simply flooring it, right at that point in the song where the lead guitar comes in, is worth hundreds of dollars and hours spent on some guys’ couch talking about your relationship with your mother. It’s indescribable, it’s cathartic, and it’s soothing to every depth of mind and soul.
To invest in a good sub-woofer or new speakers may be likened to several months, or even years of buying aroma therapy candles, buckets of ice cream, or even sappy romantic movie rentals. To tell you the truth, I’ve done these last three extensively, and have yet to increase the low frequency output of my car’s stereo, but honestly, I believe this is true.
The stereo in my car is easily 20 times better than the cassette deck in the car I learned to drive, and it has immeasurably helped my emotional well being. My car accelerates from 0-60 in under a minute, also an upgrade from my last vehicle, also helping me cope with day to day life. The car is not merely transportation for the body, it goes much deeper than that. My car has heard more of my innermost thoughts than any single human being, and has helped me through more hard times than anyone besides Sallie Mae, god bless her money lending soul.
So yeah, some guys are only trying to impress, get a reaction, stroke their ego, but many of us are just trying to get at spiritual harmony through the only means we know how, a blissful acoustic experience every time we start the car.
Some quick items for your attention:
I've removed Dan and Bethany's links, but only temporarily as neither has posted. If either posts two posts on separate days, but within the same month, I'll add them again. If you haven't read through their archives, I'd recommend it, especially Bethany's.
Check out either Dan or Elliot's blogs, the link to the warning signs is hilarious.
Mar 18, 2003
Two things I want, but in one word
For God to cleave me, into two
Rend selfish self from redeemed soul
And make me pleasing unto to You
The second thing, and next in line
I want to cleave myself, in time
To someone who, Lord, longs for thee
Would love You first, and marry me
I woke up this morning thinking about that word, like so many high dollar words that float through my head while showering, often without my comprehending them. A good friend of mine expressed distaste for the ambiguity of our language, and I agree at times. I think I like this word cleave though.
And now, for something completely different . . .
This morning while on my ride back from school, I saw a trashcan on the median. In Dallas, this is common, it allows motorists to dispose of trash in their car while in the left hand turn lane. This one had a rather unique slogan though, and it made me laugh. It said, “Recycle To The Max, reduce your waste to a minimum.” Can’t you just see some cartoon guy trying to look cool, with sunglasses on, saying something like, “Dude, recycle man, but recycle, TO THE MAX!” He might look a little like this fruitcake.
I hate stupid slogans, and I’m not fond of thinking about all the money that is more than likely made by these unscrupulous marketing majors who apparently procrastinate in the real world as much as they did in college, but instead of getting C’s, get paid thousands of dollars for sub standard work. That or they are clueless, and I should pity them. I suppose a third option is more psychological, after all, I’m sitting here repeating their slogan on the internet and in my head, so I guess it’s score one for the ad agency. Sign me up.
For God to cleave me, into two
Rend selfish self from redeemed soul
And make me pleasing unto to You
The second thing, and next in line
I want to cleave myself, in time
To someone who, Lord, longs for thee
Would love You first, and marry me
I woke up this morning thinking about that word, like so many high dollar words that float through my head while showering, often without my comprehending them. A good friend of mine expressed distaste for the ambiguity of our language, and I agree at times. I think I like this word cleave though.
And now, for something completely different . . .
This morning while on my ride back from school, I saw a trashcan on the median. In Dallas, this is common, it allows motorists to dispose of trash in their car while in the left hand turn lane. This one had a rather unique slogan though, and it made me laugh. It said, “Recycle To The Max, reduce your waste to a minimum.” Can’t you just see some cartoon guy trying to look cool, with sunglasses on, saying something like, “Dude, recycle man, but recycle, TO THE MAX!” He might look a little like this fruitcake.
I hate stupid slogans, and I’m not fond of thinking about all the money that is more than likely made by these unscrupulous marketing majors who apparently procrastinate in the real world as much as they did in college, but instead of getting C’s, get paid thousands of dollars for sub standard work. That or they are clueless, and I should pity them. I suppose a third option is more psychological, after all, I’m sitting here repeating their slogan on the internet and in my head, so I guess it’s score one for the ad agency. Sign me up.
Mar 17, 2003
"I'm your dream, make you real
I'm your eyes when you must steal
I'm your pain when you can't feel
sad but true
I'm your truth, telling lies
I'm your reasoned alibis
I'm inside open your eyes
I'm you." - Sad But True, Metallica
How can I live divided like this? Every thought is countered and contested, I have no peace. I’m always having to explain myself to some imaginary me. My emotions take words, and they speak the desires of my heart, the ones I keep inside, the ones I try to hide, even from myself. When will I find rest?
I spent the trip back from Longview with the stereo off, something I’ve never done before. I enjoy staying busy, and thinking about things, but when I’m alone, I often feel the need to chase my own voice out with music. That night I let the voice speak, and we talked for several hours. There was so much to discuss.
Right now I’m listening to the heaviest music possible, trying to quell the upsurge of emotion that seeks to overwhelm me. There’s a lump sitting in my throat that argues with my reason. My emotions bring up some very good points, but they just don’t understand how things simply have to be. My emotions are just too idealistic, won’t listen to reality. Maybe some day they'll learn.
So here I go, I’m going to get some rest, read a book, try to chase the thoughts away. Really, everything’s fine, I’m just going to lie down, and I’m really calm. I'm so content, and I've already moved on.
I need a cigarette, because I’m out, but only to think of things best left alone. I’m a masochist, I must be, because I’m out the door to buy some more. Maybe you understand what I mean. There's no deceiving yourself, not for me at least. This is going to be a while.
I'm your eyes when you must steal
I'm your pain when you can't feel
sad but true
I'm your truth, telling lies
I'm your reasoned alibis
I'm inside open your eyes
I'm you." - Sad But True, Metallica
How can I live divided like this? Every thought is countered and contested, I have no peace. I’m always having to explain myself to some imaginary me. My emotions take words, and they speak the desires of my heart, the ones I keep inside, the ones I try to hide, even from myself. When will I find rest?
I spent the trip back from Longview with the stereo off, something I’ve never done before. I enjoy staying busy, and thinking about things, but when I’m alone, I often feel the need to chase my own voice out with music. That night I let the voice speak, and we talked for several hours. There was so much to discuss.
Right now I’m listening to the heaviest music possible, trying to quell the upsurge of emotion that seeks to overwhelm me. There’s a lump sitting in my throat that argues with my reason. My emotions bring up some very good points, but they just don’t understand how things simply have to be. My emotions are just too idealistic, won’t listen to reality. Maybe some day they'll learn.
So here I go, I’m going to get some rest, read a book, try to chase the thoughts away. Really, everything’s fine, I’m just going to lie down, and I’m really calm. I'm so content, and I've already moved on.
I need a cigarette, because I’m out, but only to think of things best left alone. I’m a masochist, I must be, because I’m out the door to buy some more. Maybe you understand what I mean. There's no deceiving yourself, not for me at least. This is going to be a while.
My weekend? Zero to sixty my friend, in a heartbeat.
So much, and so little.
Anticipation, expectation, solemn realization
It was intoxicating
It was also very sobering
There should be no disappointment
I got to see her smile, hear her laugh
And with the greatest gentleness I’ve ever known
I felt her return to me my heart, unbroken
My desire no longer for her, now for her happiness
Things aren’t the way I’d hoped they’d be
Perhaps this way is best
The world is brighter now, and warmer too
My life was changed by meeting you.
More life was lived in these last few days
Than many months now past
My heart still races, and my mind retraces
How this weekend went, so fast.
Mar 14, 2003
"If you could only have seen yourself tonight out there in the moonlight…
You might then have understood why I was so speechless. I was breathless."
I’m in Longview now, and thank you God, I’ve been waiting for what seems like forever. I spent some quality time waiting for a freight train, eyes closed, savoring the night air, air so full of all that has happened. A lingering scent.., so intoxicating. And now I’m sitting in front of C4’s locked front door, typing away merrily, as content as I’ve ever been.
This place feels like a memory once again, just like when you come back after the summer break, and you feel like you’d started a new life, but you’re back home now, the home you wanted to leave. I wanted to leave. Irony is passionate desire to be where you’ve spent 4 years trying to get away from. I’m sure God’s laughing, and tonight I’m laughing with Him.
You might then have understood why I was so speechless. I was breathless."
I’m in Longview now, and thank you God, I’ve been waiting for what seems like forever. I spent some quality time waiting for a freight train, eyes closed, savoring the night air, air so full of all that has happened. A lingering scent.., so intoxicating. And now I’m sitting in front of C4’s locked front door, typing away merrily, as content as I’ve ever been.
This place feels like a memory once again, just like when you come back after the summer break, and you feel like you’d started a new life, but you’re back home now, the home you wanted to leave. I wanted to leave. Irony is passionate desire to be where you’ve spent 4 years trying to get away from. I’m sure God’s laughing, and tonight I’m laughing with Him.
Mar 13, 2003
Things I enjoy about being male:
1. Topless-ness is not grounds for imprisonment
2. If you have romantic inclinations, you can pursue without social stigma
3. Nobody has ever asked if I had a girl in the car to assure my safety late at night
4. Facial hair or no facial hair, it’s your choice
5. If you’re feeling lazy, you don’t have to read non-verbal communication, you’re not supposed to be able to anyway
6. If you want to dress nicely, that’s fine, but not required
Things I’m not so fond of:
1. Speeding tickets, you know what I mean
2. When they cry, you have no options
3. When you cry, you’re a puss, at least in most people’s eyes
4. You can’t say you love your friends unless you’re drunk
5. You really aren’t as good at reading their emotions as you’d like to think
6. Nobody wants to see you naked, so if you streak, you’d better run
The thing about this whole romantic entanglements thing is that neither of us really ever seem to know what’s going on, or even what should be going on. Even the most confidant guys I know, guys who really should be able to just relax because they know the girl is going to fall for them, don’t. They’re actually self-conscious and nervous just like I am, maybe even more so. Perhaps their identity has become so connected with being accepted and desired that a rejection becomes even more devastating. I’m used to it, I’m familiar with moving on.
In all of the wonderful freedom that our current society provides, with so many varied ways of relating between men and women, there comes a paralysis when you realize that you have no idea what you’re “supposed” to be doing or feeling. Most of us, men and women alike, deep down fear being alone. We don’t want to be stuck going to the cinema with our parents on Sunday afternoon because there’s nothing else in our lives. But what are you going to do about it?
I seriously doubt I’m the only guy who can’t for sure say whether he wants the white picket fence, 2.5 kids, and wife who stays home, or rather the art school girlfriend who paints his clothes because, “They needed more white.” You may even be struggling to decide whether you want to be with the all black wearing girl who writes poems about dying, or the business suit wearing corporate executive. Or are these women, in some deep part of their souls, truly all women? Are we, somewhere between engineers, construction workers, and football players, truly all men?
Do we desire the same thing? What’s compatible supposed to even mean?
Are you supposed to start out with a crush? Start out as good friends? If you were to marry someone without seeing them first, would you be able to love them? Would you both have been happier with someone more, “compatible?” (Before I forget, at this point Sabrina has just made it clear to me that she knows more about human nature than should be allowed for a human. Go to her with any questions you might have.)
And what about games? Is it possible to avoid them, are they necessary, should I be enjoying them? I feel tired of playing games, I just feel like being open and honest, telling things like they are most of the time. I’d like to take her in my arms and tell her outright that I hope we can be happy together.
I don’t feel like pretending to like another girl so that she can be jealous. I don’t feel like not calling her for days on end to make her want me more, and worry that I’ve lost interest. Have I lost my mind, have I lost the whole point? I hope not. If so, maybe she’d be willing to lose her mind too, and maybe we could just be happy. 15 hours and counting.
1. Topless-ness is not grounds for imprisonment
2. If you have romantic inclinations, you can pursue without social stigma
3. Nobody has ever asked if I had a girl in the car to assure my safety late at night
4. Facial hair or no facial hair, it’s your choice
5. If you’re feeling lazy, you don’t have to read non-verbal communication, you’re not supposed to be able to anyway
6. If you want to dress nicely, that’s fine, but not required
Things I’m not so fond of:
1. Speeding tickets, you know what I mean
2. When they cry, you have no options
3. When you cry, you’re a puss, at least in most people’s eyes
4. You can’t say you love your friends unless you’re drunk
5. You really aren’t as good at reading their emotions as you’d like to think
6. Nobody wants to see you naked, so if you streak, you’d better run
The thing about this whole romantic entanglements thing is that neither of us really ever seem to know what’s going on, or even what should be going on. Even the most confidant guys I know, guys who really should be able to just relax because they know the girl is going to fall for them, don’t. They’re actually self-conscious and nervous just like I am, maybe even more so. Perhaps their identity has become so connected with being accepted and desired that a rejection becomes even more devastating. I’m used to it, I’m familiar with moving on.
In all of the wonderful freedom that our current society provides, with so many varied ways of relating between men and women, there comes a paralysis when you realize that you have no idea what you’re “supposed” to be doing or feeling. Most of us, men and women alike, deep down fear being alone. We don’t want to be stuck going to the cinema with our parents on Sunday afternoon because there’s nothing else in our lives. But what are you going to do about it?
I seriously doubt I’m the only guy who can’t for sure say whether he wants the white picket fence, 2.5 kids, and wife who stays home, or rather the art school girlfriend who paints his clothes because, “They needed more white.” You may even be struggling to decide whether you want to be with the all black wearing girl who writes poems about dying, or the business suit wearing corporate executive. Or are these women, in some deep part of their souls, truly all women? Are we, somewhere between engineers, construction workers, and football players, truly all men?
Do we desire the same thing? What’s compatible supposed to even mean?
Are you supposed to start out with a crush? Start out as good friends? If you were to marry someone without seeing them first, would you be able to love them? Would you both have been happier with someone more, “compatible?” (Before I forget, at this point Sabrina has just made it clear to me that she knows more about human nature than should be allowed for a human. Go to her with any questions you might have.)
And what about games? Is it possible to avoid them, are they necessary, should I be enjoying them? I feel tired of playing games, I just feel like being open and honest, telling things like they are most of the time. I’d like to take her in my arms and tell her outright that I hope we can be happy together.
I don’t feel like pretending to like another girl so that she can be jealous. I don’t feel like not calling her for days on end to make her want me more, and worry that I’ve lost interest. Have I lost my mind, have I lost the whole point? I hope not. If so, maybe she’d be willing to lose her mind too, and maybe we could just be happy. 15 hours and counting.
Mar 12, 2003
Was I an idealist last week, or was that supposed to start today? I can’t remember if it’s my week for over-analyzing everything and planning all my life’s details or simply sitting back and enjoying without thinking. Rob (High Fidelity) rearranged his record collection in order of purchase to make his life seem more complicated. I spend hours analyzing my past and future and comparing it with what other people have done, and what they plan on doing, and what they’ll think of my choices. I guess it was a stupid question, I always overanalyze. At least some answers will come on Thursday.
I’m drinking straight from the carton of Welch’s Passion Fruit I bought tonight after I missed the stupid midnight cutoff again for alcohol. The kids in front of me looked like they were in high school, but they got their beer in time. It’s all good, I finished my programming assignment tonight and got to talk with Brian Lee. He’s actually taking some steps to setting up those coffee shops we always talked about. Maybe I should just move out to Colorado and work the night shift, I could ski, and we could get back to our debates, perhaps where we left off.
I really haven’t thought a whole lot through in the past few days, maybe weeks, and I wonder if I’ve done wrongly. There are times that despite my best intentions to be organized and plan ahead, I find myself completely surprised by life. I’m really tired of trying to figure out things that seem meant not to be understood. I’ve found happiness, and while I’m always willing to talk abstractly about the futility of my own actions, even while in the midst of them, I’m really quite content just to be content. It’s nice, and it’s been a while since I’ve felt this way. Sorry, I'm tired, and I’ve noticed I tend to be more vague and distracted when I’m interested in a girl.
I’m drinking straight from the carton of Welch’s Passion Fruit I bought tonight after I missed the stupid midnight cutoff again for alcohol. The kids in front of me looked like they were in high school, but they got their beer in time. It’s all good, I finished my programming assignment tonight and got to talk with Brian Lee. He’s actually taking some steps to setting up those coffee shops we always talked about. Maybe I should just move out to Colorado and work the night shift, I could ski, and we could get back to our debates, perhaps where we left off.
I really haven’t thought a whole lot through in the past few days, maybe weeks, and I wonder if I’ve done wrongly. There are times that despite my best intentions to be organized and plan ahead, I find myself completely surprised by life. I’m really tired of trying to figure out things that seem meant not to be understood. I’ve found happiness, and while I’m always willing to talk abstractly about the futility of my own actions, even while in the midst of them, I’m really quite content just to be content. It’s nice, and it’s been a while since I’ve felt this way. Sorry, I'm tired, and I’ve noticed I tend to be more vague and distracted when I’m interested in a girl.
Mar 9, 2003
Running low on sleep, I’m restless. Tonight C4 and I spoke of life, its meaning, the reality of God, the importance of belief, and what we want to accomplish. I’m in the middle of a self analysis, trying to figure out what it is I want to be. I realized tonight that I don’t excel at anything, that I enjoy such a broad range of things in life that in no area am I proficient, or really seeking to become so. I’ve criticized the church for abandoning things like the arts. I say that Christians need to become a light by doing the things they do well. I’m a hypocrite.
One thing we discussed was Paul’s writing about things which are good versus things which are better. Marriage is good. Being single is better. Spiritual gifts are good, prophecy is better. The body is made up of many parts, and one should not look down upon the other. I don’t really understand how that meshes, but we discussed the possibility that there are many roles that must be played by members of the body of Christ, some of which are “better” in some senses, but all of which are still necessary.
Right now, and don’t read too much into this, I’m very tired and not thinking too clearly, I’m thinking that perhaps what I desire is, or should be, to be that part which God has in mind, and to excel in it. I may only be a foot and not an eye, but if I’m the best foot I can be, then there’s nothing better for me. In many ways this makes sense, I won’t preach like Billy Grahm, and in many ways that type of service is higher. Perhaps the ones who cultivate only cultivate a few, and the ones who reap may reap many. Perhaps some seeds just need more care. I don’t know. I'll want to erase this in the morning, but I never do. Sigh, ok, now I can sleep.
One thing we discussed was Paul’s writing about things which are good versus things which are better. Marriage is good. Being single is better. Spiritual gifts are good, prophecy is better. The body is made up of many parts, and one should not look down upon the other. I don’t really understand how that meshes, but we discussed the possibility that there are many roles that must be played by members of the body of Christ, some of which are “better” in some senses, but all of which are still necessary.
Right now, and don’t read too much into this, I’m very tired and not thinking too clearly, I’m thinking that perhaps what I desire is, or should be, to be that part which God has in mind, and to excel in it. I may only be a foot and not an eye, but if I’m the best foot I can be, then there’s nothing better for me. In many ways this makes sense, I won’t preach like Billy Grahm, and in many ways that type of service is higher. Perhaps the ones who cultivate only cultivate a few, and the ones who reap may reap many. Perhaps some seeds just need more care. I don’t know. I'll want to erase this in the morning, but I never do. Sigh, ok, now I can sleep.
Mar 8, 2003
Oh a raving I did go. I believe I’m about to die, every muscle in my body is about to give up and desert me. The quasi rave club experience was awesome, C4 gets mad kudos for ‘dragging’ me to it. Bonner also receives extra credit for an assist.
There are many fun things about raves, but you have to be there I guess. Watching the people who paid 15 to sit and watch, while in addition not drinking. There’s also the first time rollers who are absolutely mesmerized by any glowing movement, or anything glowing that they think is moving. Cell phone junkies cupping hands over their ears to talk to only God knows who while in the middle of a dance floor. Sex crazed youth prowling for something to grind against, people gasping for air after vigorous dancing through paper wrapped tobacco.
There’s many sights to be seen, and there’s something cleansing and releasing about moving without thinking. You simply let go, listen, and go with whatever you feel. It felt like something out of a drug movie, but in a good way. I’ll probably go again, you should come with me. I’m going to go sleep for three hours and then wake people up to sell them alumni directories. Once again, feel free to cuss me out if it’s your house.
There are many fun things about raves, but you have to be there I guess. Watching the people who paid 15 to sit and watch, while in addition not drinking. There’s also the first time rollers who are absolutely mesmerized by any glowing movement, or anything glowing that they think is moving. Cell phone junkies cupping hands over their ears to talk to only God knows who while in the middle of a dance floor. Sex crazed youth prowling for something to grind against, people gasping for air after vigorous dancing through paper wrapped tobacco.
There’s many sights to be seen, and there’s something cleansing and releasing about moving without thinking. You simply let go, listen, and go with whatever you feel. It felt like something out of a drug movie, but in a good way. I’ll probably go again, you should come with me. I’m going to go sleep for three hours and then wake people up to sell them alumni directories. Once again, feel free to cuss me out if it’s your house.
Mar 7, 2003
What is going on here? I’m obviously trapped in some lame episode of Twilight Zone that amounted to a brain fart in Serling’s head and was never shot. There’s no way I posted yesterday (actually, by the time I finished this post, it wasn't yesterday, but still...), and this week is taking forever. I think time slows down as I approach next Thursday. Anticipation is sweet, but after a while it’s hard to remember that, I'm ready to get out of here.
Also odd is the discovery of this Mark Lusby character, hi there. I grew up thinking nobody existed with a Lusby name that wasn’t related, but I’ve found out otherwise. If you check the www.lusby.org site, you’ll find Ed and Dee Lusby under the people section. That’s my dad’s brother. He went to the same school I did and dropped out after one semester. Not sure how you feel about your relatives, but I went to a family reunion and was severely scared. Probably scarred too. Part of the motivation for starting this blog was the fact that those two had a better presence on the web than I did. I'm doing my best to resolve that.
I’m a little upset tonight at these stupid laws justifying somebody’s messed up sense of morality. It’s midnight, I’m starting work on a programming assignment, and I wanted something to drink. I specifically wanted one of those new Smirnoff Triple Blacks, which are very good by the way. So good that there was only one 32 ounce bottle left (I know, trashy image, but I’m programming by myself, and I don’t have a problem with drinking what appears to be a 40, I was also going to drink while on the phone with an intoxicated friend, so it wasn’t quite drinking alone either, not that drinking alone is a problem in my mind or life.) and it was hidden behind like ten of the normal ices. By the time I got my bottle up to the register, I found that only those stupid self serve ones were open, and in the few precious seconds it took for me to figure out where the upc was to scan it, it was after midnight. Their clocks were also 4 minutes faster than mine.
The point is, who cares if I buy after midnight? I have enough alcohol in my trunk to kill a man, and it’s legal for me to drink after midnight, but I didn’t want hard alcohol. So what was the point of this stupid law? It indirectly kept me from drinking, but I still am able to, just not what I wanted. The point is not that I am really that upset about not drinking, the point is that it’s a stupid law, and stupid laws breed contempt for all law. Kinda like how the state trooper who enjoys giving tickets to people passing semis while doing 5 over the speed limit leave a bad taste in my mouth every time I see blue and red lights. I'm tired of arbitrary government bullshit. Every time I think about lawmakers and law enforcement in general, I get this image of my dog. She can't keep her nose out of other people's asses either.
I saw something today that also chipped away at my faith in the intelligence of the human race. There was this poster at UT Arlington with a bunch of students all staring at the camera looking righteous, and it said, “57% of UTA students drink 0, 1, or at the most 2 drinks at the parties they attend.” It even had this queer graphic that said, “Just the Facts.” Okay, what the Hell is that even supposed to do? So 43% of the students get tanked? Were they trying to get me not to drink excessively just because barely more than half of the other students don’t? For all I know, 57% of the other students at UTA are total nerds. I myself only drink about 2 drinks at any given time, and I don’t count them usually, but after seeing this poster, I felt the need to drain a fifth of whiskey. Why are so many of my reactions to life so childish?
Wow, that’s a lot of ranting. C4 comes up tomorrow, and I’ll move from ranting to raving. I’m going to try to avoid the alluring glow sticks on a recommendation from a friend, having been told they’re not quite as cool as they may appear. Speaking of Danielle, check out her blog if you don’t regularly (which you should). All I have to say is, I’m all about world peace. Do something for a good cause today, or maybe tonight. Just remember, it's about world peace folks, everybody wins. Also, if you don’t read Sabrina’s blog, and make sure to do so and read back a few to her post about CBB and licking his nose. Great writing.
I’m going to sleep, when I should be programming. I read, I write, and I’ll more than likely not see good report card results, but let me tell you something. I’m happy. I’m also counting the hours now, 160 left. I’m really looking forward to seeing you all, and stuff. If you have a moment, comment and leave me either a current food fetish or tongue related fantasy. If you don’t have either, do yourself a favor and develop one. My current food fetish is back to Louisiana Hot Sauce, and one of my tongue related fantasies involves licking her feet, especially her toes. Goodnight.
Also odd is the discovery of this Mark Lusby character, hi there. I grew up thinking nobody existed with a Lusby name that wasn’t related, but I’ve found out otherwise. If you check the www.lusby.org site, you’ll find Ed and Dee Lusby under the people section. That’s my dad’s brother. He went to the same school I did and dropped out after one semester. Not sure how you feel about your relatives, but I went to a family reunion and was severely scared. Probably scarred too. Part of the motivation for starting this blog was the fact that those two had a better presence on the web than I did. I'm doing my best to resolve that.
I’m a little upset tonight at these stupid laws justifying somebody’s messed up sense of morality. It’s midnight, I’m starting work on a programming assignment, and I wanted something to drink. I specifically wanted one of those new Smirnoff Triple Blacks, which are very good by the way. So good that there was only one 32 ounce bottle left (I know, trashy image, but I’m programming by myself, and I don’t have a problem with drinking what appears to be a 40, I was also going to drink while on the phone with an intoxicated friend, so it wasn’t quite drinking alone either, not that drinking alone is a problem in my mind or life.) and it was hidden behind like ten of the normal ices. By the time I got my bottle up to the register, I found that only those stupid self serve ones were open, and in the few precious seconds it took for me to figure out where the upc was to scan it, it was after midnight. Their clocks were also 4 minutes faster than mine.
The point is, who cares if I buy after midnight? I have enough alcohol in my trunk to kill a man, and it’s legal for me to drink after midnight, but I didn’t want hard alcohol. So what was the point of this stupid law? It indirectly kept me from drinking, but I still am able to, just not what I wanted. The point is not that I am really that upset about not drinking, the point is that it’s a stupid law, and stupid laws breed contempt for all law. Kinda like how the state trooper who enjoys giving tickets to people passing semis while doing 5 over the speed limit leave a bad taste in my mouth every time I see blue and red lights. I'm tired of arbitrary government bullshit. Every time I think about lawmakers and law enforcement in general, I get this image of my dog. She can't keep her nose out of other people's asses either.
I saw something today that also chipped away at my faith in the intelligence of the human race. There was this poster at UT Arlington with a bunch of students all staring at the camera looking righteous, and it said, “57% of UTA students drink 0, 1, or at the most 2 drinks at the parties they attend.” It even had this queer graphic that said, “Just the Facts.” Okay, what the Hell is that even supposed to do? So 43% of the students get tanked? Were they trying to get me not to drink excessively just because barely more than half of the other students don’t? For all I know, 57% of the other students at UTA are total nerds. I myself only drink about 2 drinks at any given time, and I don’t count them usually, but after seeing this poster, I felt the need to drain a fifth of whiskey. Why are so many of my reactions to life so childish?
Wow, that’s a lot of ranting. C4 comes up tomorrow, and I’ll move from ranting to raving. I’m going to try to avoid the alluring glow sticks on a recommendation from a friend, having been told they’re not quite as cool as they may appear. Speaking of Danielle, check out her blog if you don’t regularly (which you should). All I have to say is, I’m all about world peace. Do something for a good cause today, or maybe tonight. Just remember, it's about world peace folks, everybody wins. Also, if you don’t read Sabrina’s blog, and make sure to do so and read back a few to her post about CBB and licking his nose. Great writing.
I’m going to sleep, when I should be programming. I read, I write, and I’ll more than likely not see good report card results, but let me tell you something. I’m happy. I’m also counting the hours now, 160 left. I’m really looking forward to seeing you all, and stuff. If you have a moment, comment and leave me either a current food fetish or tongue related fantasy. If you don’t have either, do yourself a favor and develop one. My current food fetish is back to Louisiana Hot Sauce, and one of my tongue related fantasies involves licking her feet, especially her toes. Goodnight.
Mar 5, 2003
This is just far too much for me. I’ve fallen in love again, and I think this time it’s serious. I’m totally infatuated, and for this moment, I can think of nothing besides the object of my desire, that which I want so desperately to consume entirely. It’s powerful, it’s Vermont Sharp White cheese, and it goes oh so well with a glass of chardonnay.
I know what you’re thinking, I’m a food whore. One minute I pledge my undying allegiance and affection for Louisiana Hot Sauce, the next for Samoas, and now this cheese, if such a base term can be used for something so heavenly. I don’t really understand the situation very well. I love certain foods to death, but I don’t eat much at all, which would make me expect that I’d just eat anything when I do get around to eating. It’s not that I just fall in love with whatever I’m eating, I swear, although . . . There’s a banana nut muffin on my desk, mmmmm, Banana Nut, now that’s a good muffin.
Speaking of obsessions, Eminem has begun growing on me, are there any known remedies? Feel free to offer advice, in the meantime I’ll go download yet another of his songs.
My fear is that in all these things, I throw myself in all too quickly. I rarely have the reservation to simply hold back and wait, at least emotionally. I’m growing much more expressive, but I’ve always exhibited obsessive characteristics, growing fanatical in my likes and dislikes, beliefs and doubts. It has cost in the past, but instead of accepting change, I’ve merely vowed to do the same, believing it to be a more passionate and intense life, and thus somehow more noble or more desirable.
I think in this regard I try to mix analytical thought, the logic so dear to me, with affairs of heart, or gut, if you understand that to be the feelings you have such as honor, love, family, and other such things that need no explanation. That’s just it though, I like to have everything categorized, set in bins and labeled. I’d like a quick reference index to the things in my heart, suck the life out of them just to have them laid out and understood.
So where’s a sense of balance? You all seem to have come to some sort of conclusion one way or the other, please give me a few pointers. Also, for future reference, don’t hesitate to reprimand me, tell me when I’ve overstated my case, or if I’ve just become annoying. I won’t be offended.
I know what you’re thinking, I’m a food whore. One minute I pledge my undying allegiance and affection for Louisiana Hot Sauce, the next for Samoas, and now this cheese, if such a base term can be used for something so heavenly. I don’t really understand the situation very well. I love certain foods to death, but I don’t eat much at all, which would make me expect that I’d just eat anything when I do get around to eating. It’s not that I just fall in love with whatever I’m eating, I swear, although . . . There’s a banana nut muffin on my desk, mmmmm, Banana Nut, now that’s a good muffin.
Speaking of obsessions, Eminem has begun growing on me, are there any known remedies? Feel free to offer advice, in the meantime I’ll go download yet another of his songs.
My fear is that in all these things, I throw myself in all too quickly. I rarely have the reservation to simply hold back and wait, at least emotionally. I’m growing much more expressive, but I’ve always exhibited obsessive characteristics, growing fanatical in my likes and dislikes, beliefs and doubts. It has cost in the past, but instead of accepting change, I’ve merely vowed to do the same, believing it to be a more passionate and intense life, and thus somehow more noble or more desirable.
I think in this regard I try to mix analytical thought, the logic so dear to me, with affairs of heart, or gut, if you understand that to be the feelings you have such as honor, love, family, and other such things that need no explanation. That’s just it though, I like to have everything categorized, set in bins and labeled. I’d like a quick reference index to the things in my heart, suck the life out of them just to have them laid out and understood.
So where’s a sense of balance? You all seem to have come to some sort of conclusion one way or the other, please give me a few pointers. Also, for future reference, don’t hesitate to reprimand me, tell me when I’ve overstated my case, or if I’ve just become annoying. I won’t be offended.
Mar 4, 2003
Hello World
Okay, so at least my program due in less than a week involving multiple processes has begun. I got my Linux machine to say something, so I think I'm pretty much on top of things. Two tests today, not nearly enough sleep, but I've got these two words on my desktop screen to be happy about.
Okay, so at least my program due in less than a week involving multiple processes has begun. I got my Linux machine to say something, so I think I'm pretty much on top of things. Two tests today, not nearly enough sleep, but I've got these two words on my desktop screen to be happy about.
“Love of truth does not appear to be man’s primary motive, and, therefore, it is a long way to the truth from what one sees through the filter of the passions.”
-Love and Friendship, Allan Bloom
So what’s more important anyhow? I’m awfully impressed when you say you’ve read Kafka, Kant, and Kierkegaard, philosophy turns me on like a light switch. On the other hand, is intellect and logic the only thing in life? If you know the right syllogisms and fallacies, do you understand how to live and love? I’m starting to realize there’s a lot more to this life than logic. I’m starting to think there’s a lot less in the next life of debate.
I think sleep deprivation has fried a few too many brain cells, I notice myself staring blankly at the wall more often then I used to. I suppose thoughts of girls might also be a contributing factor, studies are inconclusive, but 50% of every waking hour (pretty much 100% of the non-waking hours) can take its toll on a brain. Especially one split by that prenatal surge of testosterone.
Samoas, good heavens why do you tempt me so? There’s nothing keeping me from eating the whole box, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.
Also, to indulge the technical side of my brain, thank God for easy installation Linux. Geeks of the world, hate me if you will, but I like plopping a Debian CD into my desktop and posting to my blog, enjoying a good book while the installation proceeds with such ease I’d let my father install it. If you want to spend your time trying to configure the network card, be my guest, I’ll probably have to do it someday, but not tonight.
Mar 1, 2003
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