It's Your World.

When you look at your life... ask yourself, who gives a shit?

Do what you want.

Steal a stop sign.
Rob a bank.
Light a match.
Burn your house down.
Run in circles.
Try to fly.
Smash a window.
Blare your music.
Hug at a stranger.
SCREAM until you can't stand up.
Fall down onto the grass.
Stare at the sky.
Throw your hands up.
Run until you're breathless.
Play in traffic.
Throw baseballs off a building.
Get in a fight.
Hitch-hike to nowhere.
Love the first thing you see.
Walk around blindfolded.
Play hopscotch in the mall.
Top 100 mph.
Skip into a movie theater.
Make someone's day.
And never forget to smile.

For god's sake just breath the fucking air and live your life!

Live Deliberately! You Are Free!

Amazing...

A lot of times, I'll find a line or two on the internet that hit me so hard I write about the idea and embellish them. I don't take the lines, but I work on the idea. Well sometimes you come across something that is just so perfect that you can't say it any better. To try and change this, to try and put it into my own words would be insulting. So below is a bit from Secret Vespers, a Web-Comic by Patrick Edwards-Daugherty. His website is located here http://secretvespers.com/

The piece that I found so fascinating is below, titled:

play music neither of us has heard...

The decade has changed us. We ride the subway like zombies, staring into space while our earplugs sing us songs we know by heart. Back home, back online, we flip through the avatars of people we have not seen in years, if ever. In text messages, in status updates, we pretend to be profound, represent our emptiness as brevity and wit, all of us chasing that high of recognition, all of us wanting our cut, our spot in the culture, our drug.

I have been grounded by fear. Any one of us could be the terrorist. And though we fight against the extremes of opinion and tactics, isn’t it delicious how the mainstream, the everyday commute, the engineered food and plastic computer are killing us? It is a quicksand, to struggle against it just swallows us faster.

All I want today is to turn the noise off, sink into a couch and play music neither of us has ever heard. I want to consign the cynicism of the world to others, and simply walk with you a while. I want to stay up all night making stories for you and forgetting them. I want a rebellion of the one real friend versus the eight hundred, of the private moment versus the public, of the things loved and forgotten against the clung-to, of the sensed and felt versus the reported.

I want to get to know you through the music you love, the books that have changed you, through your most fleeting and foolish fantasies, and through my own five senses. I want to know the you who has stayed up too late, gotten too drunk, indulged in too many daydreams out loud, and is not worried about how she comes off. When the end comes, I promise I will not care exactly where we all went wrong.

~Patrick Edwards-Daugherty

http://secretvespers.com/2009/12/30/play-music-neither-of-us-has-heard/


I wish I could say I wrote that. But all the admiration goes to my friend Patrick.
I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

For me, the last two paragraphs, the last line, hit especially hard. It fits.

Random Poetry...

Some more random poetry that I wrote awhile ago.


Tears of Chaldea

Who shall cry when all is done
over the hillside
away from the sun
the victors shall ride
away from the sun

Tears of agony
Tears of woe
Tears of victory over a silenced foe

Yet it is not over
in minds so deep
sleeping on clover
while their allies weep

red tinted clover
so unnaturally human
caught in the sun
sparkles with lost thoughts
that were once full of fun

and so they lay
till nature claims them
and nothing that is done
can change them

they lie so silent
sleeping on clover
the victors were violent
and none rolled over

Tears of agony
Tears of woe
Tears of victory over a silenced foe

Who shall cry when all is done
over the hillside
away from the sun
the victors shall ride
away from the sun


Untitled # 16

Without hope you might as well be blind,
Without love you'll waste away to the end of time,
But faith prevails and gives hope a chance,
giving me the courage to ask for a dance,
with it giving love a chance to grow,
so I ask this one time, because I need to know,
if you'll be mine, to help make faith meet fate,
lifting my blindness, allowing me to create
such a sight in my eyes, giving my heart such a rise,
all because of one brief chance, that ended in romance.


If we spend our time thinking of somewhere else... shouldn't it make sense that we should be there? Why limit our happiness because of laziness? If you aren't happy, do what makes you happy.


--> http://cairnseeker.blogspot.com/2009/12/pursuit-of-happiness.html

Strive for what you want. You've got nothing to lose.

How are you?

Every time you see me you ask me how I am. Countless times we're asked this question, so often that the answer becomes automatic. Like bullets a "Good" or "Fine" is shot right back at the questioner. Never do we really stop to think about the true answer. And even if I knew most of the time I wouldn't tell you.

Well right now I do know.

Right now it's like when you go to your favourite playground from when you were a kid. And find that the swing sets that you spent so much of your life on are gone, replaced by a jungle gym. The slide that needed so much courage to climb is now a teeter-totter. And the baseball field where you had those late night pickup games is nothing but grass. It's still a playground. Kids still spend hours in breathless joy. But it doesn't feel the same. It doesn't fit your memory. You're not sure why this happened and you're not sure why you care. And the more you think about it the less you get to any conclusion. It turns into just one more thing pressing down upon your sun. The caffeine and the pills and the 12 hours of sleep stops working and you transition from the lost playground to the stranger that didn't return your hello when you passed by on the street. The friend who didn't return your call. The person you loved a year ago who lay down next to you, drawing up the future in thousands of useless words detailing every moment and bright idea both of you drowning in useless Idealism on that damn water bed where you could never sit still and this fucking bracelet which you want to burn but you can't seem to cut it off your wrist and it really doesn't matter anyway its just string yet for some reason your mind just can't stop this damn cycle and you just need to RELAX.

well... maybe it's better that we leave it to a simple "Good" or "Fine" and a smile created to disguise what's inside.

Whats Wrong with a Little Destruction?

All alone in this tiny shop of glass. I sit and gaze at the art around me. Everything reminding me of my not so simple past. Teacups and vases line the walls, with mirrors and china surrounding them all. Fragile lives teeter on definite edges. Sitting their life away with nothing to do but sparkle. Shine in motionless silence. Not even the air, in its multitude of moves, disturbs the quiet shop of glass. All is whole.

Life does not work this way. Nothing can sit in a suspended state. Nothing is perfect. Nothing can shine forever. It's not sane. It's simply an illusion of the world. It's misery.

All it takes is one breath. One wink. One hit. One push. One idea. One butterfly. Destruction. Devastation. Disruption. With one solid swing you can smash a shelf. Glass litters the floor. Another, and a teacup shatters. This shop collapses with a hundredth of the effort it took to build. Reflecting life, reflecting our world, the shop is destroyed. And it feels good.

So much is lost, all the work, patience, creativity. Nothing is left but chaos and confusion. Nothing makes sense. But it's only after we have lost everything that we are free to do anything. Through the dust a new world can be built. A better world. Destroy the nostalgic ties to your life and you will be free. Only after disaster can we be resurrected. Only after we erase here and now can we create our future.

Destroy your china shop and create your future from the dust. Only then will you be free.