I wrote this a while back. I thought it was good, but a little while after I thought it sucked. Now I think its good again, but maybe that's because i changed it around.
On Winter and Love
Time stops.
As Winter's first frozen tear falls
to the ground, a fleeting youth smiles, much
like a victim of Love, who,
as the passion grows within him, flowering and becoming, again,
he is a child in the snow. happy.
Comforted by warm jackets and sentiments, the youth and the victim
dance their season's dance, a carnal rapture. But soon,
time starts.
The snow melts;
the passion dies.
And these creatures show their true forms of gloom.
All that remains is a cold, barren emptiness.
The smile of the youth fades; the heart of the man breaks,
and Winter and Love lay in hibernation, until next
time.
16.8.07
23.6.07
The Moral of This Past Week Is...
Do Not Name Your Child Blake.
http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/06/23/missing.woman/index.html
http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/06/23/bodies.found.ap/index.html
Both Jessie Marie Davis and Kimberly Vaughn were brutally murdered recently by the sickest of people. Coincidentally, each of them had a child named Blake. It should be clear that I don't actually assert this as the "moral of the week"; I'm only bringing attention to the situation.
But for a serious moral: maybe the Midwest is not so jolly a place after all.
http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/06/23/missing.woman/index.html
http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/06/23/bodies.found.ap/index.html
Both Jessie Marie Davis and Kimberly Vaughn were brutally murdered recently by the sickest of people. Coincidentally, each of them had a child named Blake. It should be clear that I don't actually assert this as the "moral of the week"; I'm only bringing attention to the situation.
But for a serious moral: maybe the Midwest is not so jolly a place after all.
21.6.07
Truly A Squirt
This girl is surely, in my Asianly-biased opinion, the hottest American Apparel model, if not one of the hottest people I've encountered, in image at least, this year. Shes not so much "hot" in the normal sense of the word as she is appealing--I could see myself knowing, befriending, doing, her. I have no more to squirt on this matter (in words, at least). Just squirt for yourself:
11.6.07
Dreams
For almost a year now, I've been keeping a dream log. I will squirt some of the more interesting ones here (Please excuse the bad writing):
11.8.2006 - Myself and some companions are eating a meal in a café, which is strangely merged with a Pearl Art Supplies. We need some type of supply, so we ask an African American girl to retrieve them for us. She returns stupidly stating that she cannot find the supplies because she does not know where to look for anything art related. We chastise her, pointing out that we are obviously in an art supplies store, so it should be easy to find what we are looking for, then return to our meal. She returns once again, angered this time, and sits back down, without giving us what we wanted. Suddenly, Harrison Ford appears and starts making fun of the girl. He walks away and shortly thereafter, the girl starts walking away. We follow her and commence to continue our earlier chastisement. Somehow, we all emerge on the scene of some play, where the girl is performing atop a high pole of sorts. We go back stage (in which there is a pool of water) and plan to take the girl from the stage and bring her back stage so we can continue to criticize her. As we make our way to the stage, we inadvertently run into Claire Downs, and converse with her for a while. Then, once we try to stealthily make our way upon the stage and take the girl, we realize this is impossible without an actor or audience member spotting us. So, we pretend to be amongst the acting troop, one of us putting on a costume as Jack Skellington, and commence to dance upon the stage, all the while making our way towards the girl. The dream then ends, for I woke up.
17.8.2006 - Michael Ahn, Merritt Hummer, a few others, and myself are all at some large indoor music festival. We decide to sneak in to the section with Vip seats, so that we could get a better view of the artists. The first artist up is Death Cab for Cutie, and then the second artist is Samuel L. Jackson (I guess he’s rapping). Whenever I try to get a photo of one of the artists, however, it comes out blurry in my camera, despite how close we are. For some reason, we all decide to leave. As we are walking back from the festival to some destination I do not know, we see a huge house on the peak or cliff of some tall mountain. It is triangular in form with a very long inhabitable cantilever off the cliff’s edge. It seems to defy physics. Suddenly (or I cannot remember the in-between events) Mike and I are on an airplane. Various things happen, including a conversation with the people seated in front of us, that I cannot remember very well. A small child starts reading off the plane rules through a microphone. Michael and I get excited that Naomi Watts is going to be giving a speech at some event we are to later attend.
25.12.2006 - I am in a tall, skinny, dark house with unstable wooden floorboards and much dust everywhere. I am on the third floor, and it is raining outside, late at night. I call Harrison, and ask him if he has ever seen Saw 3 (possibly because I am about to watch the film). I spend some time doing something (possibly watching the film), and then go into an adjacent room. There is a very tall man wearing flannel standing in the room. The room seems to stretch away from me for an infinite distance, and hanging across the room are lines on which white sheets are hanging and fluttering. The man starts explaining random things in the room to me, and at some point I direct our attention to a lone chest, and ask what is inside. He says I would not believe him if he told me. I get aggravated and open it myself. Inside is a dead girl, gagged and contorted, bloodied and decayed. I begin to run down the stairs and out the house, with the flannel man chasing me. I get outside and run through the mist, while the flannel man continues his chase.
10.6.2007 - I am both witnessing and playing the role of the main character in some Asian film, or at least a very cinematic sequence. It begins on a mountain road, on which I am sprinting. An asian girl begins racing me, and to my surprise she is able to beat me, even though I try numerous times to overtake her. We apparently meet and converse afterwards, after which I come with her to a construction site at which she works. Apparently, she is of the "country folk" and I am more civilized. Clearly, there is a romantic connection between us. I wish to spend more time with her, but she must go, and conveys to me that we cannot be seen together. Some nights later, I make my way through the rain and darkness over to her shack, in which she lives with her father and her little baby brother. I sneak in, and see her sleeping with her baby brother close by. We have sex, quietly and sentimentally. Suddenly, her father storms in with a bamboo whip, and has a frenzy, madly whipping everyone in the room. In the panic, the girl and I run away, and decide to elope. We realize however, we cannot stay in the town without being punished. We get on a wooden raft, float out into the open ocean, and die together in the moonlight.
11.8.2006 - Myself and some companions are eating a meal in a café, which is strangely merged with a Pearl Art Supplies. We need some type of supply, so we ask an African American girl to retrieve them for us. She returns stupidly stating that she cannot find the supplies because she does not know where to look for anything art related. We chastise her, pointing out that we are obviously in an art supplies store, so it should be easy to find what we are looking for, then return to our meal. She returns once again, angered this time, and sits back down, without giving us what we wanted. Suddenly, Harrison Ford appears and starts making fun of the girl. He walks away and shortly thereafter, the girl starts walking away. We follow her and commence to continue our earlier chastisement. Somehow, we all emerge on the scene of some play, where the girl is performing atop a high pole of sorts. We go back stage (in which there is a pool of water) and plan to take the girl from the stage and bring her back stage so we can continue to criticize her. As we make our way to the stage, we inadvertently run into Claire Downs, and converse with her for a while. Then, once we try to stealthily make our way upon the stage and take the girl, we realize this is impossible without an actor or audience member spotting us. So, we pretend to be amongst the acting troop, one of us putting on a costume as Jack Skellington, and commence to dance upon the stage, all the while making our way towards the girl. The dream then ends, for I woke up.
17.8.2006 - Michael Ahn, Merritt Hummer, a few others, and myself are all at some large indoor music festival. We decide to sneak in to the section with Vip seats, so that we could get a better view of the artists. The first artist up is Death Cab for Cutie, and then the second artist is Samuel L. Jackson (I guess he’s rapping). Whenever I try to get a photo of one of the artists, however, it comes out blurry in my camera, despite how close we are. For some reason, we all decide to leave. As we are walking back from the festival to some destination I do not know, we see a huge house on the peak or cliff of some tall mountain. It is triangular in form with a very long inhabitable cantilever off the cliff’s edge. It seems to defy physics. Suddenly (or I cannot remember the in-between events) Mike and I are on an airplane. Various things happen, including a conversation with the people seated in front of us, that I cannot remember very well. A small child starts reading off the plane rules through a microphone. Michael and I get excited that Naomi Watts is going to be giving a speech at some event we are to later attend.
25.12.2006 - I am in a tall, skinny, dark house with unstable wooden floorboards and much dust everywhere. I am on the third floor, and it is raining outside, late at night. I call Harrison, and ask him if he has ever seen Saw 3 (possibly because I am about to watch the film). I spend some time doing something (possibly watching the film), and then go into an adjacent room. There is a very tall man wearing flannel standing in the room. The room seems to stretch away from me for an infinite distance, and hanging across the room are lines on which white sheets are hanging and fluttering. The man starts explaining random things in the room to me, and at some point I direct our attention to a lone chest, and ask what is inside. He says I would not believe him if he told me. I get aggravated and open it myself. Inside is a dead girl, gagged and contorted, bloodied and decayed. I begin to run down the stairs and out the house, with the flannel man chasing me. I get outside and run through the mist, while the flannel man continues his chase.
10.6.2007 - I am both witnessing and playing the role of the main character in some Asian film, or at least a very cinematic sequence. It begins on a mountain road, on which I am sprinting. An asian girl begins racing me, and to my surprise she is able to beat me, even though I try numerous times to overtake her. We apparently meet and converse afterwards, after which I come with her to a construction site at which she works. Apparently, she is of the "country folk" and I am more civilized. Clearly, there is a romantic connection between us. I wish to spend more time with her, but she must go, and conveys to me that we cannot be seen together. Some nights later, I make my way through the rain and darkness over to her shack, in which she lives with her father and her little baby brother. I sneak in, and see her sleeping with her baby brother close by. We have sex, quietly and sentimentally. Suddenly, her father storms in with a bamboo whip, and has a frenzy, madly whipping everyone in the room. In the panic, the girl and I run away, and decide to elope. We realize however, we cannot stay in the town without being punished. We get on a wooden raft, float out into the open ocean, and die together in the moonlight.
10.6.07
Catholicism
This institution is one of the many parisites, albeit a rich and clever one, feeding off, but simultaneously destroying, the moral innocence of our society. It hides behind a veil of religious morality, espousing a "Culture of Life," blaming forward-thinking, practical humanists for molding society into John Paul II's aptly named "Culture of Death." Waving aside this veil, however, and exposing the true Catholicism is not difficult for anyone of respectible intelligence. On almost all moral matters, the religion's principles harm both our present and future society, by stapling its productivity, nullifying its pleasure, and killing its members.
(To be finished at a later date)
(To be finished at a later date)
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