At the age of 20 years, 5 months, and approximately thirteen days, I have decided that I want to change the world, or at least initiate a change in the world. I hate the phrase one man can't change the world. That's B.S. entirely. Want to know why I voted for Obama? Because I believed not in his promises, but his motto: Change. And guess what? We have had change. First black president and the troops have mostly been withdrawn from Iraq. As for his idea of universalizing health care, I stand behind it but should it fail I don't care.
Back to my point. I believe in the potential for humanity to co-exist peacefully. I believe in absolute freedom of choice and belief. What I don't believe in is the idea that people can't help who they are and there's no real hope for humanity. I lose my faith often, but deep down I know the truth. To the people who oppose Obama, or come off as strict conservatives, or overly liberal, or sensitive, or heartless, or pure evil, or excessively pessimistic or optimistic; it isn't their fault. They're just ignorant. And before anyone takes offense, words are neutral, your interpretation of them isn't. People jump the gun and assume certain words are negative. No your rendition of them and how you're feeling interprets a words meaning to you. Ignorant originally meant just not knowing something. Similar to oblivious which now brands people who are 'oblivious' or 'ignorant' stupid, which they are not.
So about the way I want to change the world. With education. Real education. Educating people about how to better their lives and the lives of the people in their community, or county, or city, or state, or parish, or region, or country without harming their environment or the neighboring peoples. Contrary to popular belief it IS possible. ZOMG! It's difficult, and that's exactly why people would rather go to war than work on peaceful resolutions. My point is, peaceful cohabitation of the world is completely possible. It's not some far-fetched ideal of some idiot pacifist. If you educate people on how to properly utilize that their region is rich in, and how to be reasonable in their actions with neighboring lands, and understanding of people's differences we can have peace. Africa is rich in diamonds and poor in damn near every other aspect. If the workers are treated fairly and paid reasonably, there'd be no need for rebellious guerrilla insurgents. If alternative sources of energy were focused on more and projects furthering such were funded better, there would be no wars for fossil fuels. People have a tendency to forget that they all have the same basic needs.
Instead of educating people on a history built on bloodshed and oppression, why not educate them on how to improve their living conditions and promote progress. I believe in positive reinforcement. Unless you're sociopathic, it works. Have a little faith in your fellow man. Do something good out of the goodness of your own heart and I'm sure it will spread in some way. Be willing to educate those who are unknowing or unaware of the world around them. Teach everyone that they have feelings and what it means to nurture those feelings. Teach them what it feels like to do something good. Teach them that skin, language, color, sexual preference, talents and certainly not social class should be a barrier that divides us.
This sucked immensely. Like..it was really REALLY bad. It came out better while I was actually thinking. I tried to just recreate the idea I had instead of letting it flow naturally. My point still stands. Education is the only real chance we have at peace. I'll rewrite this later.
"Peace be it of mind or body, should be one's ultimate goal." - Chris Nimz
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Crash Crash [Facebook Import]
"Tell me would you kill to save a life. Tell me would you kill to prove you're right"?
"No matter deaths that I die I will never forget. No matter how many lies that I live I will never regret."
And with that I must start by saying how many people are really willing to do what their character deems necessary. Be the justification through self preservation, the preservation of the life of one dear to you or simply to better your positioning in the world or improving your own life. I am by no means glorifying homicide or it's variants, but there are countless people's modern day success founded upon the death of another. Rappers have written songs about those whom they have allegedly had a hand in murdering. Apparently a tear being tattooed on the face is symbolic of that very act. It's often been misinterpreted as taking the life of another human being in contemporary belief is a good thing, but I have a different opinion. There are of course acts carried out in which blood is spilled for the benefit of political figures or even entire empires. Countless historical figures made themselves very influential or even powerful through the blood they spilled. Some founded entire empires, such as Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan, even Julius Caesar. The saying goes "if you haven't found something worth dying for then you haven't lived." I possess my own variant which states: If you have not found something worth killing for you haven't lived. Death is certainly a very big hurdle to overcome for a cause, yes many a man has died for his beliefs. But many have killed for the very same reason. When you've taken a life to preserve or even solidify your faith in your cause, you've made a potentially life-long commitment to guilt. At least facing death shows you were willing to take a mortally wounding blow. To deliver that blow, and live with what comes after, especially after facing whomever you cut down, takes far more resilience and fortitude on a mental and emotional level.
Now this isn't about any of you actually murdering anyone, so let me divert from that topic. My point is how many of you are really willing to do what's necessary or what you deem necessary for your cause? For some, arguments are enough, for others there are petitions and protests and demonstrations and the lot. There's nothing wrong with any of these methods or actions. Are you achieving what it is you've set out to do? Possibly. You've done something at least. How many people are willing to go that far; let alone further? Sabotage, thievery, and self deformation of character are the ammunition for others to attain their goals. Because at the end of the day, those people feel the ends have justified the means. What exactly is justice though? Is it that arbitrary sense of morality that's been instilled in us all? If so, why do some deviate from the path they were raised on even if their influences aren't contradicting their upbringings? What determines what is right and wrong for us? For example, what of all the white Southerners whom aided in the civil rights movement? What made them risk their lives and the honor of their families to help out a few negroes believed to be inferior by most of white America? What made them come to the conclusion that despite their influences, that people of different colored skin were their equals? What blends that obvious black and white into a broad, thick shade of gray? Like how many of you would truly play Robin Hood to aid those less fortunate? How many of you would play Genghis Khan or Alexander the Great and wage wars and dominate territories in an attempt to unify a continent? How many of you would play catalyst to your own happiness in order for someone you care for to benefit in the long run? Or how about playing the villain in this case. Shut down maybe an orphanage in order to extend a hospital that caters specifically to cancer patients of all creeds? Could any of you honestly say you have the capacity to be the 'bad guy' in any of these situations in which there is of course a good outcome but you must do something that would probably guilt trip you for the remainder of your lives? I'm sure many of you would say yes, but then when the opportunity arises, you won't act, or worse you completely disregard guilt and attempt to rationalize what you've done as entirely right and care not for what had to transpire. Now THAT is inhumane behavior. I'm not saying feel guilty forever for what you've done, but you must experience some form of remorse for any discomfort or unhappiness you've caused anyone to some degree.
Maybe that's why those people have that tear tattooed on their face. A constant reminder everytime they look in the mirror of what they've done. But some of us are guilty of similarly heinous crimes be they against our fellow man, a beast, or nature. I'm sure those guilty don't always need a blatant visual reminder, but the same effect takes place when they look themselves in the eye whilst facing a mirror after washing their face, the one thought they all share; "What have I done?" And what's sad is some cope with alcohol, others with various substances, for a few it's work or something mind numbing, or there are those who spend their time writing. The fact remains that there aren't many people determined enough to do what needs to be done for their own sake, let alone for the sake of those around them. For the few who do, the guilt has to be experienced for you to be a decent human being. It just doesn't have to be forever. Though it's nice a nice gesture to honor those whom you've trampled on in the sake of your beliefs once in a while. The reminders are there and should be acknowledged. It's okay to regret certain things, but when we've justified our actions and haven't compromised our morals with what's been done, there is no room for regrets. It was right. Depending on who you are, it's okay to forget and to regret. I'm different. I wish to never forget, and I've reached the point where I no longer regret what's done. Turns out my actions over the years have always been justified one way or another to most people involved. Now I just have to ask again:
Would you kill to save a life (especially if it wasn't yours)? Would you kill to prove you're right?
"No matter deaths that I die I will never forget. No matter how many lies that I live I will never regret."
And with that I must start by saying how many people are really willing to do what their character deems necessary. Be the justification through self preservation, the preservation of the life of one dear to you or simply to better your positioning in the world or improving your own life. I am by no means glorifying homicide or it's variants, but there are countless people's modern day success founded upon the death of another. Rappers have written songs about those whom they have allegedly had a hand in murdering. Apparently a tear being tattooed on the face is symbolic of that very act. It's often been misinterpreted as taking the life of another human being in contemporary belief is a good thing, but I have a different opinion. There are of course acts carried out in which blood is spilled for the benefit of political figures or even entire empires. Countless historical figures made themselves very influential or even powerful through the blood they spilled. Some founded entire empires, such as Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan, even Julius Caesar. The saying goes "if you haven't found something worth dying for then you haven't lived." I possess my own variant which states: If you have not found something worth killing for you haven't lived. Death is certainly a very big hurdle to overcome for a cause, yes many a man has died for his beliefs. But many have killed for the very same reason. When you've taken a life to preserve or even solidify your faith in your cause, you've made a potentially life-long commitment to guilt. At least facing death shows you were willing to take a mortally wounding blow. To deliver that blow, and live with what comes after, especially after facing whomever you cut down, takes far more resilience and fortitude on a mental and emotional level.
Now this isn't about any of you actually murdering anyone, so let me divert from that topic. My point is how many of you are really willing to do what's necessary or what you deem necessary for your cause? For some, arguments are enough, for others there are petitions and protests and demonstrations and the lot. There's nothing wrong with any of these methods or actions. Are you achieving what it is you've set out to do? Possibly. You've done something at least. How many people are willing to go that far; let alone further? Sabotage, thievery, and self deformation of character are the ammunition for others to attain their goals. Because at the end of the day, those people feel the ends have justified the means. What exactly is justice though? Is it that arbitrary sense of morality that's been instilled in us all? If so, why do some deviate from the path they were raised on even if their influences aren't contradicting their upbringings? What determines what is right and wrong for us? For example, what of all the white Southerners whom aided in the civil rights movement? What made them risk their lives and the honor of their families to help out a few negroes believed to be inferior by most of white America? What made them come to the conclusion that despite their influences, that people of different colored skin were their equals? What blends that obvious black and white into a broad, thick shade of gray? Like how many of you would truly play Robin Hood to aid those less fortunate? How many of you would play Genghis Khan or Alexander the Great and wage wars and dominate territories in an attempt to unify a continent? How many of you would play catalyst to your own happiness in order for someone you care for to benefit in the long run? Or how about playing the villain in this case. Shut down maybe an orphanage in order to extend a hospital that caters specifically to cancer patients of all creeds? Could any of you honestly say you have the capacity to be the 'bad guy' in any of these situations in which there is of course a good outcome but you must do something that would probably guilt trip you for the remainder of your lives? I'm sure many of you would say yes, but then when the opportunity arises, you won't act, or worse you completely disregard guilt and attempt to rationalize what you've done as entirely right and care not for what had to transpire. Now THAT is inhumane behavior. I'm not saying feel guilty forever for what you've done, but you must experience some form of remorse for any discomfort or unhappiness you've caused anyone to some degree.
Maybe that's why those people have that tear tattooed on their face. A constant reminder everytime they look in the mirror of what they've done. But some of us are guilty of similarly heinous crimes be they against our fellow man, a beast, or nature. I'm sure those guilty don't always need a blatant visual reminder, but the same effect takes place when they look themselves in the eye whilst facing a mirror after washing their face, the one thought they all share; "What have I done?" And what's sad is some cope with alcohol, others with various substances, for a few it's work or something mind numbing, or there are those who spend their time writing. The fact remains that there aren't many people determined enough to do what needs to be done for their own sake, let alone for the sake of those around them. For the few who do, the guilt has to be experienced for you to be a decent human being. It just doesn't have to be forever. Though it's nice a nice gesture to honor those whom you've trampled on in the sake of your beliefs once in a while. The reminders are there and should be acknowledged. It's okay to regret certain things, but when we've justified our actions and haven't compromised our morals with what's been done, there is no room for regrets. It was right. Depending on who you are, it's okay to forget and to regret. I'm different. I wish to never forget, and I've reached the point where I no longer regret what's done. Turns out my actions over the years have always been justified one way or another to most people involved. Now I just have to ask again:
Would you kill to save a life (especially if it wasn't yours)? Would you kill to prove you're right?
Diary of Jane (Breaking Benjamin) [Facebook Import]
"Something's getting in the way. Something's just about to break. I will try to find my place in the diary of Jane. Try to find out what makes you tick as I lie down, sore and sick. There's a fine line between love and hate and I like that."
Shuffle has a way of just being awesome and reminding me of songs I've forgotten. Now this can easily be misinterpreted but I'll leave this one ambiguous so any who read this may draw the message from it they feel they need. The human mind has a natural tendency to interpret things negatively as a precaution. Optimism is a choice, pessimism is a reflex. I wish to emphasize the phrase "try to find out what makes you tick." I hate to be the one to do this, but how many of you question those around you? I mean question their sincerity with a fine toothed comb. Scrutinize every word that comes out of their mouth? If you do. There's something wrong with you. It's okay to question people and their motives, but after a certain amount of time interacting with someone you build up a base level of trust and better come to understand their motives and if they coincide with your own. Questioning people's motives and sincerity from time to time is perfectly normal, rational, and even healthy. It helps you learn a lot.
How many of you question yourselves? If you don't and feel that everything you do is absolutely right, you have a problem. You should be certain about a few things in your life, but you should reassess your own objectives and goals every so often. Maybe even question yourself as a person, especially if you have some sort of issue you just can't seem to overcome. Why am I in this situation? Why do I feel like I can't get out of it? Are you under someone else's thumb? Or is this a prison of your own construction? If you haven't noticed I like to ask a lot of questions. They may seem rhetorical, but very rarely are they. My questions are meant to be answered one way or another. Even if it's in the back of your mind, there must be an answer. There's no such thing as a dumb question. Why? Because every question that attains an answer grants you some form of knowledge. Whether or not you utilize it or learn how to, is entirely up to you. The harder the question, the deeper the life lesson and the more rewarding it will be when answered. It's simple equivalent exchange. You'll get out whatever effort you put in.
"There's a fine line between love and hate, and I like that."
That's one very true statement. How often have people you once loved become hated enemies? How about vice-versa? It has happened to us all. Life lesson in one line. Reason why I like that? Because as a person I can easily discern between my thoughts, emotions, sensations and over all feelings. People have a tendency to either love me or hate me for that very reason. I often come off as a callous individual with my terse, occasionally blunt answers. You demand a response from me in one way or another by being involved in my life, and I will give you one. Usually the one I believe you need. Why sugar coat anything? It's only good for rotting teeth and distracting you from the real flavor of things anyway. I like that one minute people can love me and the next they can hate me. It means I'm good at my job of mental catalyst. We would all like to be loved for who we are, but that's a rarity considering people are different. No everyone is not different. Everyone is one large venn diagram of categories that overlap. You are not all unique snow flakes, sorry. I just happen to be one incredibly small circle that shifts in attempt to better adapt to those I encounter and interact with. So deal with it. Fix what you must, and replace what's beyond the ability to repair.
"I would rather be hated for who I am than loved for someone I am not"
Shuffle has a way of just being awesome and reminding me of songs I've forgotten. Now this can easily be misinterpreted but I'll leave this one ambiguous so any who read this may draw the message from it they feel they need. The human mind has a natural tendency to interpret things negatively as a precaution. Optimism is a choice, pessimism is a reflex. I wish to emphasize the phrase "try to find out what makes you tick." I hate to be the one to do this, but how many of you question those around you? I mean question their sincerity with a fine toothed comb. Scrutinize every word that comes out of their mouth? If you do. There's something wrong with you. It's okay to question people and their motives, but after a certain amount of time interacting with someone you build up a base level of trust and better come to understand their motives and if they coincide with your own. Questioning people's motives and sincerity from time to time is perfectly normal, rational, and even healthy. It helps you learn a lot.
How many of you question yourselves? If you don't and feel that everything you do is absolutely right, you have a problem. You should be certain about a few things in your life, but you should reassess your own objectives and goals every so often. Maybe even question yourself as a person, especially if you have some sort of issue you just can't seem to overcome. Why am I in this situation? Why do I feel like I can't get out of it? Are you under someone else's thumb? Or is this a prison of your own construction? If you haven't noticed I like to ask a lot of questions. They may seem rhetorical, but very rarely are they. My questions are meant to be answered one way or another. Even if it's in the back of your mind, there must be an answer. There's no such thing as a dumb question. Why? Because every question that attains an answer grants you some form of knowledge. Whether or not you utilize it or learn how to, is entirely up to you. The harder the question, the deeper the life lesson and the more rewarding it will be when answered. It's simple equivalent exchange. You'll get out whatever effort you put in.
"There's a fine line between love and hate, and I like that."
That's one very true statement. How often have people you once loved become hated enemies? How about vice-versa? It has happened to us all. Life lesson in one line. Reason why I like that? Because as a person I can easily discern between my thoughts, emotions, sensations and over all feelings. People have a tendency to either love me or hate me for that very reason. I often come off as a callous individual with my terse, occasionally blunt answers. You demand a response from me in one way or another by being involved in my life, and I will give you one. Usually the one I believe you need. Why sugar coat anything? It's only good for rotting teeth and distracting you from the real flavor of things anyway. I like that one minute people can love me and the next they can hate me. It means I'm good at my job of mental catalyst. We would all like to be loved for who we are, but that's a rarity considering people are different. No everyone is not different. Everyone is one large venn diagram of categories that overlap. You are not all unique snow flakes, sorry. I just happen to be one incredibly small circle that shifts in attempt to better adapt to those I encounter and interact with. So deal with it. Fix what you must, and replace what's beyond the ability to repair.
"I would rather be hated for who I am than loved for someone I am not"
Wave Length of Insanity [Facebook Import]
Insanity is not your average sickness. There is no guarantee that it can be treated or cured even with the advances in medicine we've made over the centuries. Especially if this insanity is purely psychological. They claim there are medications to treat the symptoms, but that's what all medications do. They merely treat the symptoms and give the patient relief. What says those prescribed medications will hinder the symptoms anyway? Insanity is unique to those who suffer it. "Psychosis" is treatable from what I've heard, genuine madness isn't. And I'm certainly not referring to chemical imbalances in the brain.
Have you ever had your vision obscured by a dirty window before and no matter how much you wipe it doesn't seem to go away? There is your clouded judgment. Have you ever held a camera and had it violently rattled until the image is barely comprehensible? Followed by what pilots call 'tunnel vision' to the point where you can make out next to nothing but the apparent light at the end of your tunnel? If so, you've begun to tumble down the rabbit hole and not as Alice, but as the MadHatter. Next comes the idea, growing in volume exponentially overtime until it becomes a whisper. That whisper then grows into a voice, that voice into scream, that scream into a very entity and that entity into a consciousness. The consciousness will return to being a voice, but not your average voice. This conscious voice will have it's own ideas borne of a splintered psyche and it's own twisted observations of the world. The world differs to us all already, imagine how it would differ to an entity created in madness.
There is no true definition or generic madness, and there certainly is no way to diagnose it. It's said that every man must be mad in their own way, for to be generically similar is insanity. Obviously that refers to the uniqueness of an individual, but that by no means addresses thought processes or facades of sanity. It's not referring to the men who accredit Catcher in the Rye or their nonexistent pet dogs for their actions and it definitely isn't justifying them. That's what I call corruption due to insanity. There are bound to be mad men in the world that coexist with their degree of delirium, but these men are usually as brilliant as they are insane. At times it's almost poetically beautiful the effects lunacy can bring about. Should anyone be psychologically adept enough to categorize madness, they would truly be a founding father of mental studies and medicine. I'm working on it, I'm working on it...but it's driving me mad in the process.
"Do they even cure you? Or is it just to humor us before we die. If only we could heal ourselves, we wouldn't need to be hooked up to these machines."
Have you ever had your vision obscured by a dirty window before and no matter how much you wipe it doesn't seem to go away? There is your clouded judgment. Have you ever held a camera and had it violently rattled until the image is barely comprehensible? Followed by what pilots call 'tunnel vision' to the point where you can make out next to nothing but the apparent light at the end of your tunnel? If so, you've begun to tumble down the rabbit hole and not as Alice, but as the MadHatter. Next comes the idea, growing in volume exponentially overtime until it becomes a whisper. That whisper then grows into a voice, that voice into scream, that scream into a very entity and that entity into a consciousness. The consciousness will return to being a voice, but not your average voice. This conscious voice will have it's own ideas borne of a splintered psyche and it's own twisted observations of the world. The world differs to us all already, imagine how it would differ to an entity created in madness.
There is no true definition or generic madness, and there certainly is no way to diagnose it. It's said that every man must be mad in their own way, for to be generically similar is insanity. Obviously that refers to the uniqueness of an individual, but that by no means addresses thought processes or facades of sanity. It's not referring to the men who accredit Catcher in the Rye or their nonexistent pet dogs for their actions and it definitely isn't justifying them. That's what I call corruption due to insanity. There are bound to be mad men in the world that coexist with their degree of delirium, but these men are usually as brilliant as they are insane. At times it's almost poetically beautiful the effects lunacy can bring about. Should anyone be psychologically adept enough to categorize madness, they would truly be a founding father of mental studies and medicine. I'm working on it, I'm working on it...but it's driving me mad in the process.
"Do they even cure you? Or is it just to humor us before we die. If only we could heal ourselves, we wouldn't need to be hooked up to these machines."
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Inhereting the Will of Fire
I know with time people grow up, grow apart, memories get distorted, connections are severed, new ones are made, and life moves on. I know this. This is the natural order of things. There must always be change in some form or another. The things that don't change, are the life lessons learned and how you behave according to them. I just watched one of those movies that makes you re-evaluate lots of things. This is why I particularly hate anime. They preach the message of friendship, and comradery and love, and bonds and relationships that sometimes can never be severed. These bonds somehow seem like fairy tales and can endure almost every trial and stress inducer. It doesn't help that one of my favorite quotes is "Love knows no limits and true friendship lasts a lifetime." I can't help but want to be a better person. And I see it happening. Soon I'll be a genuinely good person, and the actions of my past no matter how malicious laced with nobility will be nothing but a haunting memory. That's not why I write this time. I'm paying homage to a very important 'person' to me. He was my mentor, and my friend. He was my teacher and caretaker. I don't remember too much about him as a person, but I do remember the relationship we had. I remember being given assignments and his method of teaching. He was strict and yet kind. He wanted me to be just like him. Nihilistic, void of emotion, calculating and selfish. These all sound like negative qualities, but they suited him. He wished to make the world his own and live freely; a mentality I've adopted with minor amendments.
He believed there to be no force in the world more dominating than power. The forces of positivity and negativity meant nothing to one who had the power to overcome them. It is said that he happened to overcome both, thereby choosing negativity for it's allure. He questioned everything, and chose whatever answer or path seemed most beneficial for him. I don't recall how or why he chose me, but he did. I was taught that knowledge breeds power, but it's useless without application. The mind, body, and soul must be sturdy in order to endure any and all possible turmoil. I was taught science above all was most beneficial. I was told to read and conduct my own research in the fields of psychology, astronomy, chemistry, physics, geology, mechanics, and various forms of technology. Books regarding mental and spiritual health were emphasized above all else. In my spare time I was trained to endure various means discomfort and pain, as well as to overcome any physical weakness or vulnerability with sheer force of will. My destiny seemed to be that of the perfect protege to carry on his legacy.
Then everything changed. A woman was brought into my life many years ago and I began to slack off. I indulged in her and he was put second. Soon he thought it best to destroy that, but I took preemptive measures. Afterward I began to crumble. He left and I regained my composure. He returned for a brief time only to inform me he was leaving to become even more powerful. Where he is now I have no idea. He could have changed his name and appearance to be unrecognizable. Yet I owe him a great deal. I took his lessons and have fashioned them to suit my purposes. I wish to use what I've learned to lead a benevolent lifestyle in which I can help the world and those around me. I wasn't given a choice initially. I was to be exactly like him. I was so lost in life that prior to the intervention of this woman, I was happy to be given a purpose without having to search. I was happy to have someone around. I've grown up since he's left and even taken on a pupil of my own. I don't get to see or even train him as often, but we make do. He has a great deal of raw potential and a 'gift' that can prove amazing in the right hands should he refine it. Unlike my mentor before me, I'm giving my student a choice. He can use what he learns for doing either the right or wrong thing. Everyone should have a right to choose in my opinion. Should he chose the path of the wrongdoer, if I'm still capable I will stop him. Should he decide to be like me, I hope he will preserve and pass on my Will of Fire. I'm not entirely a good person just yet, but I am working at it. I do hope soon he can spread the message and lessons of peace I'm trying to instill in him. All it really takes sometimes is one person to start a chain reaction.
All in all, I'd still like to thank my teacher. I wouldn't be where I am now if it wasn't for his influence.
He believed there to be no force in the world more dominating than power. The forces of positivity and negativity meant nothing to one who had the power to overcome them. It is said that he happened to overcome both, thereby choosing negativity for it's allure. He questioned everything, and chose whatever answer or path seemed most beneficial for him. I don't recall how or why he chose me, but he did. I was taught that knowledge breeds power, but it's useless without application. The mind, body, and soul must be sturdy in order to endure any and all possible turmoil. I was taught science above all was most beneficial. I was told to read and conduct my own research in the fields of psychology, astronomy, chemistry, physics, geology, mechanics, and various forms of technology. Books regarding mental and spiritual health were emphasized above all else. In my spare time I was trained to endure various means discomfort and pain, as well as to overcome any physical weakness or vulnerability with sheer force of will. My destiny seemed to be that of the perfect protege to carry on his legacy.
Then everything changed. A woman was brought into my life many years ago and I began to slack off. I indulged in her and he was put second. Soon he thought it best to destroy that, but I took preemptive measures. Afterward I began to crumble. He left and I regained my composure. He returned for a brief time only to inform me he was leaving to become even more powerful. Where he is now I have no idea. He could have changed his name and appearance to be unrecognizable. Yet I owe him a great deal. I took his lessons and have fashioned them to suit my purposes. I wish to use what I've learned to lead a benevolent lifestyle in which I can help the world and those around me. I wasn't given a choice initially. I was to be exactly like him. I was so lost in life that prior to the intervention of this woman, I was happy to be given a purpose without having to search. I was happy to have someone around. I've grown up since he's left and even taken on a pupil of my own. I don't get to see or even train him as often, but we make do. He has a great deal of raw potential and a 'gift' that can prove amazing in the right hands should he refine it. Unlike my mentor before me, I'm giving my student a choice. He can use what he learns for doing either the right or wrong thing. Everyone should have a right to choose in my opinion. Should he chose the path of the wrongdoer, if I'm still capable I will stop him. Should he decide to be like me, I hope he will preserve and pass on my Will of Fire. I'm not entirely a good person just yet, but I am working at it. I do hope soon he can spread the message and lessons of peace I'm trying to instill in him. All it really takes sometimes is one person to start a chain reaction.
All in all, I'd still like to thank my teacher. I wouldn't be where I am now if it wasn't for his influence.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Lovestoned/ I Think She Knows (Justin Timberlake)
I love you. Correction, I'm in love with you. Madly at that. I wonder what it is you ever saw in me and what you see now. I'm my own worst critic, I know. I just can't seem to understand what it is about me you can see that no one else can. When you tell me you love me it's a bittersweet sensation. I'm overjoyed, and at the same time I feel as if you have no idea what you might be getting yourself into. I don't know if you can't see who I obviously am, or if you're just choosing to overlook it, but I love you for it. Despite all the warnings, and preemptive measures, you don't seem to mind at all. I'd give you the world if you asked it of me without a second thought. You find me appealing when I'm scruffy and look as though I've been through war. You accept me on my worst days, and in my most unpleasant moods, and you somehow deem me suitable for not only your attention, but your affection as well.
Why? I can't help but ask hundreds of variants of the same question. How could you love me? You know as much about me as I can remember and am willing to share; maybe even more. You can see exactly how much of a monster I could be. Don't get me wrong, I want to be a good person. I have that capacity but I'm not sure I can do it at times. And yet you're still willing to welcome me with open arms. I can't promise I won't question your feelings for me daily, but I can promise to try. I can't promise that I'll be the best friend and lover I can, but I will certainly try.
Aside from that, I think I must make it apparent how deeply in love with you I really am. You're beautiful, compassionate, intelligent, motivated, humorous and just all around wonderful in every way. It sucks that we don't get to speak or interact as often as I'd like, but it's one of those kinds of situations we're in. When we do get to see each other though, it makes my entire week. I'm in no position to request your hand, but I'd do anything to make you mine. I'm not even sure you know how enthralled I am in you. I just hope you have some idea. Look at me, so spellbound I'm pouring my heart out somewhere you might never even see it. Not like I don't make my feelings for you known every chance I get. But this is something a little more concrete and more likely to last and prove evident for as long as it exists.
Why? I can't help but ask hundreds of variants of the same question. How could you love me? You know as much about me as I can remember and am willing to share; maybe even more. You can see exactly how much of a monster I could be. Don't get me wrong, I want to be a good person. I have that capacity but I'm not sure I can do it at times. And yet you're still willing to welcome me with open arms. I can't promise I won't question your feelings for me daily, but I can promise to try. I can't promise that I'll be the best friend and lover I can, but I will certainly try.
Aside from that, I think I must make it apparent how deeply in love with you I really am. You're beautiful, compassionate, intelligent, motivated, humorous and just all around wonderful in every way. It sucks that we don't get to speak or interact as often as I'd like, but it's one of those kinds of situations we're in. When we do get to see each other though, it makes my entire week. I'm in no position to request your hand, but I'd do anything to make you mine. I'm not even sure you know how enthralled I am in you. I just hope you have some idea. Look at me, so spellbound I'm pouring my heart out somewhere you might never even see it. Not like I don't make my feelings for you known every chance I get. But this is something a little more concrete and more likely to last and prove evident for as long as it exists.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Sam Malone (City and Colour)
I feel as though it's been a very long time since I've written anything with my heart. I wanted to rant about how heartless people could be, and how I hated the thought of who I once was. How I loathed a life I once lead and how I disliked certain people involved in it. I changed my mind as I began to write this to reflect something positive, but then I changed my mind again when I came to a realization. I'm not that strong. I'm not that good. And I most certainly am not that selfless. The initial change of heart was meant to spread the idea of harmony, and the undermining beauty of people and just describe how I wanted to be as a person.
Truth is? No matter how desperately I try to be a good person, my heart will always have black ink coursing through its apparently red walls. Don't get me wrong. I do want to be a good person. It just isn't in my nature. I've done the right thing for the wrong reasons, the wrong things for the right reasons, and the wrong things for the wrong reasons. At the end of the day, though I may have good intentions and act in such a fashion, other actions are purely for sake of self. I'll never truly escape this influence as hard as I try. So back to the original idea.
I want to say I'm glad you're gone. You brought me nothing but trouble all those years whether I was open about it or not. You constantly stressed me out and put a strain on every relationship I was involved in. You were more trouble than you were worth and made me try to change who I was and who I wanted to be. So many people hated you for the way you treated me, or the way you seemed to make me change. I want to say if it weren't for you I'd know myself and be a better person. I guess that's a matter of perspective. All you ever did was take, and treat those around you as if they were worthless. And despite how you made me feel, I acted as my role dictated. You knew every button to push to get a reaction out of me. It's as if you were some sort of bully. A bully that molded me to suit whatever it was that you happened to be looking for at the time. I was your source of livelihood since you probably had no idea of anything else in the world. You clung to what you knew and what you found easy. While you were around, or at least prominent, I could only question so much. I was entrapped within my own mind and that cage seemingly grew smaller with time. I was more of a pet, or a tame beast to you than anything else. Of course at the time I didn't know any better. All I knew was the shackles of bondage you placed upon me. I believed that was all there was for me. That chain I was trained to believe could hold me no matter how big and strong I became. Then I started to gradually force the chains to stretch a little more with each passing moment, just to test my limits. Until I realized they had a breaking point just like everything else. I finally freed myself from your control. Or so I've though and still think. Who knows when you might come back, or what you might say to place some form of restriction on me all over again. For now what keeps me going is knowing that I found freedom. I found my way out and away from you. I take comfort, even solace in the idea that I may never have to interact with you again by my own hand. I made sure the ties were severed and frayed beyond even my own ability to repair. Or at least that's what I want to believe. The thought of your return only brings about one thought. "There must be somewhere I can go where no one knows my name."
Truth is? No matter how desperately I try to be a good person, my heart will always have black ink coursing through its apparently red walls. Don't get me wrong. I do want to be a good person. It just isn't in my nature. I've done the right thing for the wrong reasons, the wrong things for the right reasons, and the wrong things for the wrong reasons. At the end of the day, though I may have good intentions and act in such a fashion, other actions are purely for sake of self. I'll never truly escape this influence as hard as I try. So back to the original idea.
I want to say I'm glad you're gone. You brought me nothing but trouble all those years whether I was open about it or not. You constantly stressed me out and put a strain on every relationship I was involved in. You were more trouble than you were worth and made me try to change who I was and who I wanted to be. So many people hated you for the way you treated me, or the way you seemed to make me change. I want to say if it weren't for you I'd know myself and be a better person. I guess that's a matter of perspective. All you ever did was take, and treat those around you as if they were worthless. And despite how you made me feel, I acted as my role dictated. You knew every button to push to get a reaction out of me. It's as if you were some sort of bully. A bully that molded me to suit whatever it was that you happened to be looking for at the time. I was your source of livelihood since you probably had no idea of anything else in the world. You clung to what you knew and what you found easy. While you were around, or at least prominent, I could only question so much. I was entrapped within my own mind and that cage seemingly grew smaller with time. I was more of a pet, or a tame beast to you than anything else. Of course at the time I didn't know any better. All I knew was the shackles of bondage you placed upon me. I believed that was all there was for me. That chain I was trained to believe could hold me no matter how big and strong I became. Then I started to gradually force the chains to stretch a little more with each passing moment, just to test my limits. Until I realized they had a breaking point just like everything else. I finally freed myself from your control. Or so I've though and still think. Who knows when you might come back, or what you might say to place some form of restriction on me all over again. For now what keeps me going is knowing that I found freedom. I found my way out and away from you. I take comfort, even solace in the idea that I may never have to interact with you again by my own hand. I made sure the ties were severed and frayed beyond even my own ability to repair. Or at least that's what I want to believe. The thought of your return only brings about one thought. "There must be somewhere I can go where no one knows my name."
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