My Philosophy.

Full Metal · August 14, 2011

Intro.

Hello, internet audience. I am an artist of a few trades. Mainly though, I enjoy drawing and writing. My writings are set in a general negative mood, so please keep that in mind, and no flaming. If you have constructive criticism or suggestions for future topics or subjects, don't hesitate to post them on here. Otherwise, please enjoy my gallery!

Hardcore Industry.

All my days I’m told what it is that is golden. I’m told that I have potential to be great, just as girls are told that they too could be as beautiful and fake as those mannequins in magazines. I don’t get it. If everybody’s special then why am I told to be normal? If I have potential to be great, then why does everybody hold me back? If I’m a great person, why do people leave me so often? I’m always told to do as my elders tell me to do, even if it’s wrong or completely stupid. Is that to say that if I’m told to jump off a cliff, that I should do it just because the person who told me to do so has managed to not die longer than I have? Talk about lack of logic. Any moron can man manage to not die, save for freakish accidents, disease, murder, etc. I’m not stupid, and I’m not diseased, so please don’t treat me as such just because I haven’t not died as long as you have. Just because my ideas are different than the normal doesn’t mean they’re incorrect. The only thing worth fearing is fear; Normal always opens up when your mind closes to everything else. I’m tired of people not liking me because they think I’m weird. If that’s the best reason you can come up with to not like me, then I reserve the right to say your opinion means nothing to me, and probably won’t for a while. Don’t strip me of what makes me unique. Don’t treat me like I’m manufactured unless you’re willing to eat the cost of a recall.

Canvas.

A bug must have crawled inside of me. Sometimes I notice blood running down my arm when I reach over my head. But I never see the wound. Is that possible? It must be, because it’s happening in front of me. This bleeding, it stings. It’s a different sting. It hurts, but it’s different. This pain can’t be described in words. I wish I had a canvas. I have lots of paint I guess. But I was never good with paint. This pain can only be drawn in the darkest of charcoal pencils, etched in the blackest ink. Drawn in rustic parchment, as dry as my eyes. It’s massive, yet tiny. It’s runny, and deep. This pain is trapped, like an animal in a cage. I can see it, crying, moaning. The blankness in it’s eye consumes me with a gaze, like it’s eating at my soul, byte by byte. It’s okay though. I have plenty of soul to share. Right? And once my soul is gone, then my pain will go away, right? Will my pain go away? Look me in the eye, and tell me it will be okay. Lie to me now, and make it true later. I don’t want my soul to be gone. I don’t want to be eaten alive. I don’t want to eat myself.

Friendly Faces.

Everywhere I go, my friendly faces follow me. Always ready to greet me with a smile. My friendly faces know what is best for me. My friendly faces can help me in my time of need. I only wish my friendly faces went to church and knew the Lord. My friendly faces always offer me great advice. I used to listen to that advice all the time, but then I noticed something. They didn’t care if their advice hurt anyone else, and it usually did. I think we all have friendly faces. I think our friendly faces our liars. Encoding lies into our truth. Disguising the disaster to seem so grand and beautiful, and oh, the disaster needs no disguise: it’s wretchedness could hold awe for a time with no end. My friendly faces don’t come around any more. I just whisper a prayer, and they sulk away as if I’ve greatly insulted them. Despite my suspicions of them, I just can’t bring myself to stay angry with my friendly faces, to tell them never to return. I know they might be hurt, and sad, and maybe they might die or cease to exist, and is that what I really want?

“Every conquering temptation represents a new fund of moral energy. Every trial endured and weathered in the right spirit makes a soul nobler and stronger than it was before.” – William Butler Yeats.

“Temptation is like a knife, that may either cut the meat or the throat of a man; it may be his food or his poison, his exercise or his destruction” – John Owen.

Yin And Yang.

I suppose there’s light and dark in everything. Even something as vile as greed and selfishness creates good around it. And from that good, the bad can thrive. And that fuels the existence. Push and pull, Light and Dark, Night And Day. Love and Hate. All of these can not exist without its counterpart. As the saying goes, the shadow proves the sunshine. Just as you can not know hate without knowing love, you can not know love without knowing hate. And if neither exists, then nothing worth anything exists. Lately I’ve been going through a rough time battling myself: my own worst enemy. If a man knew nothing of the Devil, or God, and actually thought about things, he would know that he was his demise. Just as he is also his rising. Man is good, but it is bad. The bad prevents the good from erasing meaning from life in it’s excel towards greatness. The bad is always there to keep life worth living. But then, is bad really “bad” ? Perhaps even “bad” is “good”. But then, what is “good”? Perhaps there is no such thing as “bad” and “good”. The real distinction to make is “real” or “not real”. If something is entirely real then other things can come from it. If something is not real, then nothing can come from it. You could say that if nothing is “real”, or if everything was “not real” then everything was “real” because “real” suddenly became “not real”. Nothing is certain in the existence, and the existence is not certain. However, humans strive to be “good” in their own mind, and all of them “real”. But the truth is, we humans don’t get to decide what is real, fake, good, or bad. That is up to the good Lord, our Father in Heaven, and that is why we should trust in him with all our hearts, rather than leaning on our own understanding, because in the end, our understanding equivelates to nothing.

In The End.

In the end we’re alone. In the end, we are all we have. In the end existence in and of itself is an illusion. In the end, nothing matters, because it is the end. But I like to talk about the existence, rather than the beginning, or the end.

The existence was great. It was free. The existence was happy and joyous. The existence was united and all stood together. The existence was there. The existence was consistent. The existence was a time-bomb waiting for the end.

In the end the existence is exposed for all it was. It was a lie, it was an illusion. In the end we would be happy, but we’re too busy dying from the existence. In the end we want a new beginning in hopes that the new existence would be free of corruption. In the new existence, the happiness and joy and unity would stay, it would be strong. I guess it’s hard to know how the next end will go, because in the next existence, we would be genuinely happy, and no lies would exist. I guess that must be what heaven’s like. Existence is pain to me, what is it to you?

Dancing Embers.

A fire ignites.

Breathing it’s air, it’s life.

Fueling a kindle,

For dancing embers.

Two duelists exchange greetings.

Then they duel…

Pushing, and pulling,

Like dancing embers.

Two friends meet

Unite against the world

And then love it

Like dancing embers.

Two countries fight

Each for their term of right

And blood is spilt

Like dancing embers

Two lovers gaze at one another

Move in with intent

Unaware of their power

Like dancing embers.

Ice.

I am frozen solid and frosty white on the inside. An infinite white mass. Pure nothing. True nothingness. Some see in black and white. Others in shades of gray. But me? I see in shades and hues. No obscuration, only creation. I believe it and it becomes so. I am ice. Cold and logical. I am ice, heartless and adrift. I am ice melting away for you — tear by chilling tear. Then refreezing from the inside. Trusting my heart like it won’t lie. Because in the end, the only thing consistent is logic.

Mirror.

My reflection staring back at me

Dirty and dusty

Cracked, depressed and twisted

Damaged beyond repair.

Old heavy and broken

Injured by the war outside

With a wound, deeper than the skin

This soul is my mirror.

Burn.

Scarlet flames

Voicing our opinions of conflict

As they dance and shout

The embodiment of lies and anger

Words of scorn

bitter and cold

immense with regret

Whispered betrayal.

Scarlet flames

Dance in a rhythmic flow

Entrancing those around us

Embers of hope.

White Crayon.

I am a white crayon. Pointless and useless. Even when I try to have a purpose, all I do is splotch up the damned picture even worse than it already was. At first glance, I look like a perfectly fine crayon. Until you look at things closer. Then you see that it was pointless to make a white crayon. The very concept of it is stupid. Why wasn’t a better crayon with a point created? It would be much better off. You could draw a better picture that way, and I wouldn’t have to be pained knowing that I can only do harm.

Choice.

I was thinking the other day. When something occurs all the time, we take it for granted. This goes for good and bad things. Yet some people are happy no matter what. That tells me something. Happiness isn’t a condition.You shouldn’t say ‘I’m happy’, because you’re not. Your life sucks just as much as it did yesterday, and rocks just as much as it will tomorrow. Being happy isn’t relative to other people. No matter how sad your neighbor is, you’re happiness isn’t effected by it [unless you get some sort of sick satisfaction from their misery]. Your happiness isn’t static either. You could be content one minute and upset the next. Being happy is a choice. You choose to be happy, and you decide how happy you are. I have debated with myself for a long time. Is life relative? Is it static? Is it ruined and doomed for hell? I’ve decided that life isn’t relative or static. It is action based. Cause and Effect. People are simple, but we make them complex in our minds because we want to hide our simplistic ape-complex behind a curtain. We don’t make sense though (lol, I know it sounds contradicting, but read on!), because we have a desire to be understood. If that’s true, why do we complicate ourselves? People have a lot going for them, but man, we sure are stupid.

Broken Record.

Something inside of me wants out. I don’t know what it is. But whatever it is, it’s tearing me apart from the inside out. I want to scream at the top of my lungs because I have no voice. I want to paint the sky because paper is too small. My mind is shutting down again. My thoughts are getting scrambled. I’m a broken record playing endlessly in a broken record-player. I’m fuzzy, and the noise I make is intolerable. Only I know the original beautiful song that once was and is no more. I’m a record. I can’t exactly restore myself. So what do I do? Do I keep playing this wretched song that chills me to the core, and wait for someone who understands my intolerable screeching? When they come, would they like what they hear? Would they want to listen just because they can understand? Would they repair my scratches and dents etched so deeply in me? Then, would my sound be pure as it once was? Would I make them happy? Would it be worth their while? How much longer do I have before I shatter completely and split into millions of tiny pieces, like a vase falling off a table? What if no-one comes? Would anyone end the misery around me and shut off the noise?

I am trapped in a room. No, I’m not trapped. The way out is clear as day. The walls are closing in all around me. But I can’t move. My feet are heavier than bricks. I would destroy the walls when they got close enough, but the problem is, I don’t know if I would hurt anyone else on the outside.

I am lonely. I’m trapped at this school. With no friends. No real friends. The nearest true friends I have are miles away. I need help. I need someone who will listen without judging. They need to be a real friend. Not just pretend. And then, I need to be able to be their friend too. And until then, I will continue trying to move my feet, and play my song loud enough to be heard. In hope that I can escape, hoping that someone will hear my cries and understand them. Tolerate them. Even love them.

Why do you live? Is it because you’re alive? Because you simply don’t want to die? What is your drive and reason to put a smile on your face? Where is your confidence that it’s real and it’s not just a dream inside your head? Where do you draw the line between dreams and reality?

I am a broken record, trapped in a room labeled `Reality`, with walls closing in. I’m all alone, and I need to be heard before I get crushed into tiny pieces like a vase falling from a table.

Hate On Valentines.

Hate on Valentines Day. Why? Think about it. We only have one day out of 365 in a year devoted to loving and being loved. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? One day to hate, be brutally honest and insensitive, and then the rest of the year to love and be loved. Why even bother with the one day of hate? Live life like it’s valentines, and the world is your significant other.

Icy Hope.

This cold. I breathe it in, and with it I inhale a sharp stab of pain. This cold courses through my veins and chills my heart. Then it poisons me, and clouds my thought as my conscious slips away so does the humanity I once clung to so desperately. But then I see the sun, and feel it’s warmth. Feel it’s warmth. Feel it return me to the arms of the happiness I once knew so well. I’m coming home.

Dream A Better Dream.

So let’s dream a better dream. A dream with no worries, no pain, and no suffering. Then, let’s plan the dream, and introduce to reality. Not too fast, slowly, naturally, and let the concept fully sink in. Then when this new found joy is spread, let’s live our lives to the fullest, and then fulfill all our other dreams, but this time, let’s do it together.

Wouldn’t that be amazing? To see a world filled with no regret, and a lifetime of joy peace and happiness ahead of us. To love everyone like a brother and sister, to be one and united. Yea, that would be nice. Unfortunately, that will never happen by our doing. People are too self-centered to do anything that miraculous, and it’s saddening. No matter what, even then we would have the seed of doubt in some one elses’ motives, maybe even our own.

But, this dream of mine, it’s sweet. It’s like going to heaven, and eating food in the sense that when you come back to Earth the food here just won’t satisfy you. I’ve had such a taste of this food. I intend to cook my own. I might not be a master chef, but my measly morsels will feed the hungry, and I will have done something with my life. And hey, maybe if I’m lucky other people will follow my example. It might not put a dent in world hunger, but those few with full bellys will make it all worth it. Can you imagine the satisfaction of feeding a hungry person?

Take my advice: there is nothing more satisfying than a tasty meal after a long day of work. So get out your pens, get well rested, dream a better dream, and write up some tasty recipes.

Perception is Reality.

I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestioned ability of a man to elevate his life by conscious endeavor.

~Henry David Thoreau

Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.

–Einstein

The real distinction is between those who adapt their purposes to reality and those who seek to mold reality in the light of their purposes.

–Henry Kissinger

Truly. This is how to keep living. So your light in the world is gone? Pretend it’s still there.

Sure you miss on a lot of the things you had with your light, like warmth, guidance, and the sorts. If you don’t see a light, simply imagine one there. In time, you will become curious enough to touch the light, and then realize how real it actually is. Funny, how reality works. The only person you have to trick to change it is you. If you just lost your job, see it as an opportunity instead of an obstacle. Eventually, that’s what it will become. Because, with this mindset, you will treat it like an opportunity to go get a new job: a better one with new people, and a nicer boss with a better pay. However, we are humans; there is only so much control over reality we can exert. At the end of the day, every day until you have a new job, you still haven’t made any money, and you can’t go to the store because that last bit of money is for emergencies only. So where does that leave us? Well, my best guess is that you should make the best out of what you have, and create your own strength to move on.

To Do Or Not To Do.

Several variations of this phrase have been around for a while. A popular one from George of the Jungle: “To swing, or not to swing”. The principal is that you need to decide whether or not you should do something. Instead of actions, think about words: they affect people a lot more than we realize or appreciate. So think to yourself “To say, or not to say”, because it’s not always what you say that counts, but what you don’t say.

“You never know what you got, till it’s gone”

This phrase is so true. Let’s say you love somebody. If you say it to them, you have a chance with them. But if you don’t, then who knows, you could be assisting in making both of your lives slightly more miserable [ for lack of better words]. Not doing something is an action, just as much as doing something. And in not confessing, you potentially lost something you didn’t even know you had. At the same time, if you say something offensive to somebody important to you, then you just lost what you had taken for granted.

Lesson learned: Think before speaking.

Suicide.

So think about it. There are always going to be people who love you. It’s hard to avoid. People depend on you, also hard to avoid. Is taking that away from everybody selfish? Is it selfish of them to expect you to stay?

This just goes to show how messed up of a world we live in. In all honesty, it’s a [barely] functional mess of chaos, hate, and anger. Being human, we also have love, courage, hope, and faith, which gives us a point of living, and holds this place together. We see selfishness as something bad, but have you ever taken a while to actually think about it? If we weren’t selfish enough to create money, people would be taken advantage of, tricked, and lies would indefinitely meld with the truth.

So anyways, back to the subject at hand. The reasons people tie there own noose, is because they need an escape. Escape from guilt, pressure, pain, loneliness, or something else. Well, the first problem: This doesn’t resolve the problem. In fact, it creates more. This is an escape for the weak and spineless. Be strong, stand up and fight your fight. Start pushing the world back, and get a clear head. Another problem. Let’s say you’re a father. You have a wife and kids. If you cut your life-line short, think about what you’re taking away from them

But lets’ look at things from their perspective. They just lost half of their income, and a fatherly figure. They’re going to be in trouble without those. They hate that they lost that. AND on top of that, they loved you! Is it selfish of them to want you alive [and possibly suffering]? What about your wife? Should she feel guilty about dating someone else? Would your kids follow your rediculous rules, or would they move on and realize you’re not coming back.

So, take all this into consideration. Notice how much selfishness can save lives? Also notice how it can ruin them. Notice how love is the saving grace? You can never take any information for granted. No matter what. You have to define your own morals.

Nowhere to go but Forward.

We’re all like children: we chase after our dreams, and when they’re in reach…deny them. I can’t say I understand why, could be because we give in to peer pressure, or we feel the weight of the world pressing down on our shoulders. Either way, in general, we childishly, and awkwardly give up that part of us. It takes a special person to take their dreams, and claim them as their own.

Curing Cancer.

Clenching my fists as the needle draws near. Knowing what it will do to me is bad, but knowing what it won’t do to me is worse. I grit my teeth as it pierces my skin and fills me with its bone chilling, poisonous cure. One day this needle will be nothing to me. One day it will hold nothing for me, and one day it will mean nothing to me. I just wish that day would come sooner, because I know that it gets harder with each beat of my heart. The monitors ear splitting screech reminds me of how alive I am. Pulsating with life, breathing it in, and out. The temptation to die is great, but the will to live is stronger, much stronger. To compare the two is like comparing a headlight in the night to the sun in the day; Both are strong, but living is so much stronger. Just as succumbing to insanity and sacrificing my ambitions to abolish my fears is the easy way out, the strength to thrive and courage to carry on combats my burdens as they try to push my down.

Calm Before The Storm.

Can you hear it?

The waves are rocking,

sweeping the shore

with light feathers.

Can you feel it,

breathing through your toes

as it whispers softly to your ears a warning.

Can you feel it?

Sometimes I know when the inevitable is coming. It always pursues the calm. The inevitable isn’t terrifying, atleast, not anymore. It’s painful, but just a little sting when compared to it’s former self. This beast is undying but forever weakening, and I have to conquer it time and time again. Hoping one day it will be too weak to fight one day. But until that day comes, all I can do is enjoy my paradise in it’s ghastly silence.

English Project

PreAP English II

August 29th, 2011

By finishing this project, I’m hoping to create new memories of times forgotten. I want something to hold on to, and remind myself that these things are real: every smile, chuckle, and tear. Particularly, I want to remember the happy times. That way if I’m feeling down, I can look back on this paper and remember that things weren’t always this way, and they won’t always be this way.

Anybody who knows me will tell you that I am unique. They will tell you that I’m calm when glanced at, but wild upon closer observation. They will tell you that I’m like Jasper from Twilight in the sense that I can effect the mood of a room to whatever I want. my enemies will tell you that I’m empty of genuine rage, but full of ice in my soul. Those close to me will tell you that nothing is more important to me than my friends and their trust.

Two summers ago I decided to go to Fastlanes with my friend. I had one of the best, most memorable nights of my life that night, and I believe that night was one of my few regrets. The entire night, I was constantly zoning out and being distracted from the hectic swirl of fun and happiness around me. To this day, I wish I could go back and enjoy that night again, and do it right. Thankfully I have one photo and one song to remember the smiles and laughter I took for granted back then. I can’t show you the picture, or sing you the song ( or rather, I shouldn’t for your sake ), but I’m sure I can paint a picture for you and place the song in your mind. Imagine the perfectly golden marshmallow, only neon. Then think of the green you get from freshly cut grass at the beginning of Summer when the grass is still alive and flourishing. In the background, imagine a deep black with streams of those colors swirling every where, and blinding flashes of red. Then in the center of this photo, picture a girls face, with modern glasses, and hair curlier than a pigs tail and as golden as the hay in a field on a late August evening. Then a smile as full as a child’s head is full of questions. Now that you have a decent copy of the picture, imagine it moving, and the lights flashing along with the beat and tune of “The Time” by Black Eyed Peas. I will never forget that Friday night, and that smile is something I would die to see again.

I am the person with a unique view who creates off the wall ideas and bites off more than he can chew then swallows it whole. I think often times we all have this vision of an ideal life and society tells us who we have to be. I also think that it’s stupid. It’s ironic really: the ones who claim to love us are the ones who strip us of our singularity. I could easily conform and be another nobody with the company car, but what’s the point? This song does a great job creating an image of how someone can fall victim to the pressures of our conformist society. It especially speaks to me because of the line “I’ve become one with the ones that I’ve never believed in, but I’ve got the company car”. I’ve never believed in anyone who claims to be successful because I’ve always been able to look back and see where I would have been disappointed and how I never would have been satisfied. In short — “If the truth is too hard to find, look for the lies then write the real truth in big bold black ink.”

I’ve always been fairly intelligent. Something you might not know about me is that I was reading Harry Potter in Kindergarten, and I fully comprehended every last bit of it, too. I’ve never been restrained by my fears, and I don’t believe anybody ever should be. Fears are a primitive, but often effective restraint. If you can control your fears, you can overcome them, and even use them to your advantage. You should never believe in anything half way. Believe in it 100%, or not at all. I really love to take a step back, turn around and see how far I’ve come, and how much I’ve grown. For example, it used to bother me when people would pick on me for my peculiarities. Now I know that it’s not worth my time to be bothered by this. I know the world isn’t that great, but what good is whining about it going to do? This song inspires me to be the change I want to see in the world.

One major part of my life is taekwondo. To me there’s just nothing that beats the thrill and adrenaline rush of kicking and punching people, but I like to call it sparring. It’s not so much the violence that I enjoy, even if I do have a slight violence issue. No. What I really enjoy about it is the challenge. You have to stay focused, or a foot will come rushing towards your face with the force of a well built and untrained football player multiplied by your opponents skill as a fighter. Then knowing that you can turn the situation around and take the offensive side is just a huge bonus. Sparring is particularly great for me because I know that there’s never any hard feelings between my opponent and I, even if I do beat the living crap out of them. Plus there are no real consequences because you have pads and protective gear on. if you run into somebody particularly skilled, they can ( and do ) break bones, but to me that just adds to the excitement and the rush. The song I chose ( Golden Time Lover ) talks about never giving up, finding the right moment to strike, and coming out on top even against impossible odds. The song is in Japanese, but here’s a rough translation of the lyrics I’m referring to.

The perfect ‘golden time’- I’ll seize it with these hands;

finish this by battling with a poker face that takes everything I’ve got.

Dragged away to an illusory world

Escaping from this endless pressure game

so I can clear the borderline of glory.

How many..? How many reparations must be made

Clapping your hands to make yourself cheer up in adversity,

attack at the last second with a unique fighting style.

Attention! It’s dangerous; go beyond your limits.

I don’t think that the relation to those lyrics need any direct relation assistance to be related to taekwondo and sparring, but those lyrics apply to my philosophy on life as well. Life is nothing more than a pressure game. There’s no real distinction between winning or loosing, but there is a line of glory, and shame. There are also sacrifices that have to be made to put yourself where you want to be. A lot of the time in life you will find yourself standing on your own two legs, completely alone. Then you have to better yourself, and become better than your opponents. You have to take risks, and go beyond what you think your limits are, then be amazed at what they really are. Finally you have to look for that golden point, the perfect opportunity, then latch on and hold on because it’s worth more than your life so far. Then be swept away into the illusory world of your dreams.

So let’s dream a better dream. A dream with no worries, no pain, and no suffering. Then, let’s plan the dream, and introduce to reality. Not too fast, slowly, naturally, and let the concept fully sink in. Then when this new found joy is spread, let’s live our lives to the fullest, and then fulfill all our other dreams, but this time, let’s do it together.

Wouldn’t that be amazing? To see a world filled with no regret, and a lifetime of joy peace and happiness ahead of us. To love everyone like a brother and sister, to be one and united. Yea, that would be nice. Unfortunately, that will never happen by our doing. People are too self-centered to do anything that miraculous, and it’s saddening. No matter what, even then we would have the seed of doubt in some one elses’ motives, maybe even our own.

But, this dream of mine, it’s sweet. It’s like going to heaven, and eating food in the sense that when you come back to Earth the food here just won’t satisfy you. I’ve had such a taste of this food. I intend to cook my own. I might not be a master chef, but my measly morsels will feed the hungry, and I will have done something with my life. And hey, maybe if I’m lucky other people will follow my example. It might not put a dent in world hunger, but those few with full bellys will make it all worth it. Can you imagine the satisfaction of feeding a hungry person?

Take my advice: there is nothing more satisfying than a tasty meal after a long day of work. So get out your pens, get well rested, dream a better dream, and write up some tasty recipes.

Writing was my ventilation unit 2 summer’s ago, but here lately I’ve taken a new approach. I want to inspire people in this song. All the dirty little freaks who are wrong in all the right ways shouldn’t be ashamed of who they are, and that is a large concept in my blog that I maintain once or twice a month. When I first started writing I was very upset, and I did it only at night and my pencil scratches got a little smudged, and I had no light except that which came through my window from the moon. Ever since then, I’ve had this thing for the moon. It’s symbolic, but it’s almost like the moon was the light I saw at the end of the tunnel when I was extremely down and upset. But the whole night time thing was kind of dangerous. I was supposed to be asleep, and it would only take a few misplaced footsteps in my direction, and it would all be over. No more writing. No more escape, and no more freedom. So before I got caught, I started writing on a blog. The blog is “My Moonlit Night”, and it’s hosted on WordPress. I don’t mean to sound conceited, but I’m glad I did start writing. It would have been a shame if my thoughts went unspoken, even if they’re not heard by as many people as I’d like.

Nobody is perfect, but everyone deserves to be heard. If you have something you want to say, then scream it at the top of your lungs, and don’t be afraid of the consequences. The biggest risk in life is to never take a chance, and the biggest mistake in life is to close your mind to the endless possibilities that can arise from your dreams. People are amazingly designed creatures. Just imagine — if everybody had the guts to stand up for what is right, think outside of the box, and be wrong in all the right ways instead of thinking we have nothing more to offer than the company car — how much better would the world be? It seems unrealistic, because it is. That won’t stop me from pursuing my dream. Dare to hate on Valentines day, and love all 364 other days of the year, then step back and see how far your friendships have strengthened, and your enemies have declined.

That Which Goes Unspoken

I was boarding the metro one morning, just as every morning. Nothing particular about the day up until then. Traffic blaring it’s horns, people shouting their stupid rants, and of course the shuffling of feet in the sub terrain in the general direction of the electric train. Yet still, something caught my eye, and that was the lack there of this noise. It disturbed me.

In the corner of my eye, I saw a little bunny. I have no clue how it got there; I didn’t know bunnies even lived around here! Then I noticed it was limping, and I heard the train coming on the opposite side of me, the same side as the bunny. I know it seems silly, but in that moment, time slowed down as I saw the train go straight through where that bunny was struggling just moments ago. My breath left me, and I felt an instance of gloom consume me.

I started to continue on about my day, and pretend that I hadn’t witnessed the bunny’s death, but I decided in that instant that today was going to be different. I’ve been living for myself my whole life, and quite frankly I’d rather live for somebody than die for them. Sure, this may seem a little over the top, for just a bunny, but it’s more than that. I want my life to mean something to someone, and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t. I went to the ticket counter right away, and gave my ticket to a nice lady who seemed a little distressed at the time, and told her that I didn’t need my ticket anyways. I could walk to work, I didn’t really need that train ticket did I?

I marched out of the sub-tera domain with my head held high, and a smile on my face that felt alien. Is it normal to be this happy, after such a gloom only moments before? I was less than 3 minutes from my destination, and I noticed my briefcase was actually beginning to feel heavy. Did I pack rocks in there? I think I’ll be changing to a backpack from now on, thank you.

I finally arrived at work, and decided that it was possibly a good time to join a gym, and that I really appreciated the subway system. As work went by, several people asked me why I was smiling. I didn’t want to sound like a psycho, so rather than explain about the bunny’s death, I told them that I would rather smile than frown, because smiles are simply so much better than frowns.

I finally went home a few minutes after 5p.m. and decided that walking one way was enough walking for today. On my way to the metro entrance, I noticed a little bunny with a red stain on it’s foot. I couldn’t help myself, and I ran to as fast as I could. I don’t know what I planned to do if I caught it, I just ran. Like I was programmed to do it, I caught the bunny in my arms, and it squirmed like any wild animal would do. I just held it there, like a moron. What do I do with it now? I tried putting it down, but my arms just wouldn’t let me.

I opened the door to my apartment door, and grabbed some lettuce immediately after setting down my briefcase. Then I fed my new best friend. After all, that was the least I could do after she gave me a life worth living. My girlfriend made fun of me for taking care of my friend. She’s not my girlfriend anymore. I guess you could say I took the life I gave her back. After all, we only have so much life to live, before we die. I’d like to use mine in a way that doesn’t fade away or become obsolete, even if I’m just a nice person in the subway to one lady, or a protector to a small bunny.

Isn’t that love? Anybody can rewrite Romeo and Juliette, that terrible tragedy, but I believe in actions. Love is a verb, not a feeling. You love somebody, you don’t feel love for somebody. The two just aren’t the same. Damn me if I don’t show the world how to love. After all, who wants to be a so-so lover?

Rebel And Rise Conceptualized Intro

Sometimes it’s hard to say if I miss those days: the one’s with no consistent joy, but a consistent gloom. I don’t regret the choice I made, not for a second! However, this sorrow glooms over me now like a fog looms over a road surrounded by trees overcast by the grayest of clouds with a humble illumination from the sun.

***

I was scrubbing away at a hefty stack of dishes when I heard the news on in the seating area. Something about a hostage. I peeked around for an excuse to temporarily leave the kitchen. No such luck.

Time passed by in dishes, and 40 dishes later it was the end of my shift, and lunch time. As I was headed to my car and reaching for my keys, my boss, Bernie, grabbed my shoulder and asked me if I would mind working the next shift, reassuring me that there would be an overtime pay. I asked if I could grab some lunch first, and he nodded his approval and replied with a “Just don’t smell the roses, or anything”.

After dodging through traffic for a few minutes, I arrived at my favorite place in the world: Subway. I have yet to find a place that makes better sandwiches the way I want them made. I quickly ordered and shoveled my food down, and hopped back in the car.

That’s when I heard the gunshots. There were three of them, each with a second’s delay between the last. Thankfully however, they were far away, and in the opposite direction of my job. I’ll find out more about it on the news when I get home, and I can visit with my sweety, Dawn.

When I got to work for my second shift, Bernie gave me a funny look. Not the kind of funny look that makes you feel like something is wrong with you. More like the kind of funny look that makes you feel like your being inspected, and your soul is being observed with a microscope. It felt weird, but I just brushed it aside. Who knows, maybe he was contemplating giving me a raise? That will be the day. By the time Bernie comes around to give me a raise, I’ll be long gone and working for something besides a restaurant. I have to admit though, Bernie’s a great boss, and when I’m gone, I am going to miss him.

My second shift went smoothly and was considerably uneventful. Of course there were the usual lousy tippers, and overly-kind tippers, but that’s to be expected. A few giggly girls were wanting to flirt with me, even though they were with their boyfriends who were kind enough to bring them to a nice restaurant. Which could very well be why they didn’t flirt, but hey, I’m no judge.

Atlast the end of the shift rolled around, and I gave Dawn a call and asked her if she would mind cooking up some dinner. I knew she wouldn’t mind in the least — she probably was actually excited, because usually I am the one cooking meals, and she’s really been wanting some opportunity to learn how to cook better. If I may say so, she’s really gotten a lot better, and is a pretty good cook. Maybe one day I’ll teach her some of my recipes. Needless to say she was joyful at the request of cooking. As we uttered farewell and promises to see each other soon, I thought about how much she’s going to hate cooking once she gets used to it.

On my way home, a few ambulances and police vans raced in front of me, and turned left. I have to admit, this made me curious, and I was tempted to follow them. Then I remembered Dawn’s beaming smile, and her radiant glow. I decided that taking that away from the world just wasn’t fare, so I continued my normal route home. Then I noticed that they were heading in the same direction as the three gunshots I heard after lunch. I found it odd for them to just now be reacting, 4 or 5 hours later. I just wrote it off as a coincidence, and refocused my attention to the road ahead of me.

Alone is Your Safe Place, Right?

You’re alone now,

No need to fear.

You’re alive,

Now wake up.

Lock up tight, and seal the gaps. No need to breathe where you’re going. You need not worry. Do you hear it? The dripping drops of something flowing. Drip, drop, drip, drop. Why bother screaming? Nobody will hear you. You’re alone, don’t you remember? Except for me. I’m here, in your mind, and that flooding you hear is me.Drip drop, drip drop. How will you fight me? I’m invariable and inevitably a part of you, but I’ll be your undoing. I’m sinking in now. It’s time now, are you ready? It’s time now, will you win? It’s time now, sink or swim. Jump from great heights into dark depths then let me consume you. Let me shape you and mold you into the corrupt being you were meant to be.

What? You don’t want that? Well, good luck with that. I’m not only you’re worst nightmare, I’m your strongest ally. Without me you are weak and vulnerable. Without me, your senses are dulled. You trust openly. You dream big. You’ll never hesitate to do as you feel, please, desire or wish. You’ll believe your wishes will come true, and then you’ll wake up.

When you wake up, you’ll miss me. You’ll wish I would still be there for you. You’ll wish I wasn’t gone. You’ll be loving me as I walk away, and scream my name at the top of your lungs. Then I’ll hear you, and I’ll come back. But it’s funny. I was so long gone, how did I hear you? Could it be that I was never gone? That you only made me invisible, like a magician makes his assistant vanish. You can’t kill me, and I’ll never be gone. I am your worst enemy. Who am I?

My Graphical Works.

Edited November 5, 2011 by Full Metal
Update.

Full Metal · August 20, 2011

Update!

Hardcore Industry.

All my days I’m told what it is that is golden. I’m told that I have potential to be great, just as girls are told that they too could be as beautiful and fake as those mannequins in magazines. I don’t get it. If everybody’s special then why am I told to be normal? If I have potential to be great, then why does everybody hold me back? If I’m a great person, why do people leave me so often? I’m always told to do as my elders tell me to do, even if it’s wrong or completely stupid. Is that to say that if I’m told to jump off a cliff, that I should do it just because the person who told me to do so has managed to not die longer than I have? Talk about lack of logic. Any moron can man manage to not die, save for freakish accidents, disease, murder, etc. I’m not stupid, and I’m not diseased, so please don’t treat me as such just because I haven’t not died as long as you have. Just because my ideas are different than the normal doesn’t mean they’re incorrect. The only thing worth fearing is fear; Normal always opens up when your mind closes to everything else. I’m tired of people not liking me because they think I’m weird. If that’s the best reason you can come up with to not like me, then I reserve the right to say your opinion means nothing to me, and probably won’t for a while. Don’t strip me of what makes me unique. Don’t treat me like I’m manufactured unless you’re willing to eat the cost of a recall.

Tbird · August 22, 2011

I enjoyed this, but I have a question; why? I think most of the same things as you, but I keep most of it personal to me and spill if someone asks. I am just vein enough to believe that my insight is a reward - or a gift if you will - for the people that care enough to ask.

I love your work though, it's nice to read, reaffirms the thoughts I think and has some nice eye candy to it, too.

To that end, do we all think the same things? Just some of us feel it necessary to blurt while the rest of us are told it's best to just keep quiet?

.. And do we all see different colours but just follow the universal names for our perceptions of them? I mean we all have different favourite colours after all.

cheers!

Full Metal · August 22, 2011

Actually, I used to be like that. Then one Summer I was seriously depressed. I mean, seriously depressed. But I've never been one who craved attention. But I needed a vent. So instead of talking to others, I started writing at night ( my wordpress is 'mymoonlit' and the title is 'my moonlit night' -- and I have a moon pendant on my necklace -- I used the moonlight to see my paper and pencil ). That didn't work out so well, so I started blogging. I noticed sometimes I posted nice, poetic pieces. Eventually, I quit crying myself to sleep at night, became slightly less pathetic, and just started writing. Only -- writing my mind without as much complaining. Now I'm just a content, apathetic artist. o:

Full Metal · August 29, 2011

Update Time!

Down The Well

Down in the well is a might river roaring

Down in the well is a glistening drink

Down in the well is refreshment

Down in the well is life.

I’m parched and thirsty, looking for a drink. I see the well that I’ve drawn water from, for so long. While I lower the pail, I ponder: what would happen to me if this well was gone? Would I die of thirst? Would I become so weak that I was unable to move, or stand on my own two feet? Would I need a crutch, or be able to use a wheelchair? If this well was gone, would I give up on life and just let the bigger river carry me where it flows?

I finally hear the reverberating splash of my bucket finding the water, and I wait for it to fill while I continue to ponder. Where would this river take me? Would I find myself washed up with everybody else? Would I wash up as a big shot revolutionist? Who would I meat along the way? Am I already flowing in the river, and just don’t know it?

I start to bring up the water when I thought occurs to me. Maybe I should just let the river take me. Abandon this well and get swept away by life’s rushing river. But what fun would that be? Why should I just float around? I want to fly to where I want to go, and if somebody wants to tag along, I won’t object.

My water finally peered at the top of the well, and I drink it all. Right then and there, as if drinking it was actually going to help me get where I wanted to go. There’s nothing special about that water in particular, but I think this is a good start to get me where I’m wanting to go. As the water flows down my gullet, and misplaced streams run down my body, I feel invigorated. Full of fighting spirit, as if I could conquer the world if I so chose. I smile and grin, because I know I’m going where I want to go, or I’m going to die trying.

RaebErak · October 11, 2011

My favorite was Dancing Embers. You're amazing.

Full Metal · October 15, 2011

Thank you, very much! (:

In fact, I bring 4 updates.