Saying Goodbye

Man, by design, is an individual.

No two people are identical, and no two people ever share the same thoughts.

Each and every one of us lives alone in our thoughts, and each and every one of us fall fate to our own devices.

Much like computers, which were made to think in the likeness of us, are we in many respects.

As an aside, an odd relationship to think about. They say God made us in his likeness, and we have made computers in ours. What does that tell us about God? Could a computer ever comprehend how we have designed and what thought went into it? It is so limited. Ask the same thing about the nature of God and ourselves.

Computers are truely alone, they feel nothing, they have no emotion, because they are all the same, because they never interact with one another.

And therein lies the difference.

We interact with one another.

We have emotions.

Emotions, derived from our need to explain our feelings for each other.

Without emotion, we would never survive. Without each other, we would never survive.

These bonds of emotion and of feeling run deeper than any knowledge we can surmise, deeper than anything a computer could ever do for us.

It is our lifeblood.

This is why death is the darkest of our observances.

This is why saying goodbye comes close.

There is a feeling associated with this...

Its the feeling that the world has less in it. That a home you just lived in shrank and forced you out of it. That the music you played for a silent room never existed. That anything you do means less. That nothing you do means anything.

That there's a deep hole in your heart.

That your missing your heart.

Even food doesnt taste good.

Its ok.

Its feelings like these that let you know you're human.

Its feelings like these that let you know you're never going to be alone.

The world could fall, and the sun could never rise again, and still you would know, just because of this feeling, that you wont ever be alone.

Embrace it.

Own it.

Its yours.

The world wont fall, the sun will rise.

But its nice to have a constant, something to keep you company.

Stand Tall

a poem

"Stand Tall"

i dream of being far away
away from what i knew
from what i know
the truth of it blinds me

he stands a statue in the torrent
oblique and absolute
radient light

Hope.

stone wears away
ideas live on
but only, the right ones

his sheild is but nought
so alone is its type

everlasting

Hope.

better days lie ahead
and think what promises were said
and what has been dead
the world around you falls, sweetly.

the sheild slips
the statue fades
the image is burned on the black forever

Hope.

and now we cry
all honerably
it's all gone, to pieces

and so have we failed
i try to be the stone

collapsing

Hope.

This Is What Happens When Your Heart Breaks

(Re-submitted after a computer failure: Originally posted 8/12/09 11:32 pm)

This could be ugly.

I rage.

Inside and out I feel as though there is a crushing weight pressing in and there's nothing holding it up.

My body is hollow.

My heart beats so little now.

I will control this. This beast within me. This dark dark beast. It roars.

I knew for so long i was right, that others were right and that i should have left it.

I pushed it away, a slave to my own meaningless devices, my own sycophantic failures to face the truth that I love a person who can't, and will never love me back.

Its been nearly a year. I've poured more into this vat then I can say.

All that's left is the music and a canvas of silence to paint on.

The passion is all gone from me.

There. I am done.

The reality of this matter is my own failure. my own lack of judgement and control. I trusted for too long, with too much, knowing all the while it was folly.


I loved you so much.

An Age Old Question

Looking back on past posts, I have come to realize a common trend in my ideals.

There is something wrong with the world.

I can't explain why I feel like there's something wrong, when so many say it's right.

Each post is a piece to the puzzle.

Each plea a confused cry.

Just read.

There is a question that every single person confronts in their life. Few know they do, but some know they do.

What is the meaning of life? Why do we exist? To what purpose do we live?

It is a big question... In fact, maybe the biggest. And everybody has an answer, again, whether or not they know it.

Some say that we live because God wills it, and this is but a trail for our judgement for the rest of eternity. Or something to that effect.

Some say that everything we do is predetermined, and that the concept of choice is what keeps us sane, but that we really are just a planned existence.

Religion is a great thing. It has comforted billions upon billions of people who have lived. It has saved them from this question. And yet, I can't help but wonder at the practicality of it all.

To say that there is a divine power that we cannot comprehend in any way, shape, or form, is to say that we live for no purpose other than to live and then die. The way in which you lived, decides your eternal position.

Why then, do we as humans conceive time. Or anything at all for that matter? An animal does not understand the passage of time, it just lives. It serves its purpose exactly in the way that it was built to. It has no ambition, or sin, or anything. Do all other animals go to heaven then?

Then I ask myself, If the Gazelle was created, by a divine power, to graze and bound and it does, and it goes to heaven, what does that look like to the gazelle? More of the same? Or are other animals unfit for heaven? That very conception is against the way of God.

To say that God discriminated from one animal to the next, from gazelles to humans, is against his very purposes.

This leads me to believe that heaven is a goal. An ultimatum for someone to reach. A direction for life. But God is against that as well, or so I am told.

If God made man in the likeness of himself, why are humans flawed?

and if He made them to be flowed, then who are we to describe His ways? Our descriptions of heaven and hell and of God himself, reek of the human stench of aspiration and desire.

I then turn to the argument that Jesus, the son of God, described His ways to us, and that Jesus was not flowed. If we all make an effort to be like Jesus, and say we succeed, then would we not as humans turn back to the state of Gazelles?

We would be born, we would live well, and without fighting. We would hunt and gather, as man was meant to. There would be no drive to survive better then the other, and that would, in effect, make us no different from apes. We would devolve.

I find it Ironic, that without all the evil people in the world, we would be no different from any other animals.

I then ask myself, If the nature of the Gazelle is to live as Gazelles do, then is the nature of man to desire more? To be arrogant, and vein. To think that one is greater then all others on earth. To strive for greatness? To "sin"?

Yes. It is.

And this has been admitted by many others... but only in the words, "Man is naturally flawed, or evil".

Some people hate who they are because they are human.

This is not right.

I refuse to believe in religion simply because it takes human nature and it tells us that we must be above it. That we must despise what we are for its flaws. The result has devastating results for people.

And yet, religion is a channel for the human spirit. Those who take it very seriously, strive not to strive. It's sort of an interesting cataclysm of purpose.

I digress. I mean to say that religion takes the question of meaning and says, 'your purpose is to be perfect, when you aren't meant to. But don't try to be perfect, or that defeats the purpose. Best of luck to you'

It offers an easy way out of the question for many people. It says, have faith in this, and you will mean something for all eternity. It offers that simple incentive.

That answer is not for me.

To say that we are all controlled by fate, and that i do not choose to type these words, but that they've been picked for me, is to say that there is something higher then us moving and placing our lives. For what force controls fate? Why does fate exist? Why is it called fate?

To say that fate is a constant, is to say that time is a constant, for as time moves forward, so, hypothetically, does fate. Unchanging.

And yet, time is not constant. It changes relative to your speed and position in the universe.

This is not simple. But i think I am less confused now because I know what question to ask...

The question itself is selfish and arrogant. The Gazelle doesn't ask why. It just is.



Why am I here? Is there a purpose to man? To my life?

I am tempted to say no. I am tempted to say that i should simply enjoy it while it lasts.

But i do not know.

If you ever figure it out, give me a call. I'd love to know.