I write because there is an empty stencil of sentence structure sitting right there...
If I could just find the right shade word choice I could turn it into a tapestry that Zues himself would hang on the fridge.
I write because the first hole in the wall felt good. But as the dry wall gave way to the second and third it didn't give me with the same satisfaction.
I write because there is a four letter word on my mind.
No.... not that one... and it's definetely not that one either.
I write because love is the only four letter word that can never be used out of context.... period.
I write because it feels good to watch my pen bleed out
It feels good to know I have a place to face my problems. The kind of problems that would cause you "stalwort folk" to point your all knowing finger of judgment in my direction.
I write because when the pen is finished it becomes something beyond therapuetic. Something that makes it capable for me to go back to the normal functions of my day.
I write because when I'm alone, I wonder if time really will produce another drip of the faucet.
I write because I didn't find a double barline at the end of the measure you left me...
And somehow I feel like thats going to make all the difference to a family halfway around the world.
I write because August 1st was the end of your intro and the begining of of your melody.
I write because if my bones don't tell the story yours won't ever know it.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Human?
I know I'm human.
Take a stab at me and I will prove it.
I bleed, and your words carry enough weight to make it happen.
I know I'm human because I put my heart and soul into the trail of ink my pen leaves behind and still loose my train of thought midsentence.
How do I take a step forward when my heart is headed in a direction that my attention span refuses to pursue?
I'm only human.
But does it really make me human if my life is revolved around more than a den and a blackberry bush?
No wait, I know I'm human.
I know I'm human because my fingertips clench to greed while my palms open to give.
But they both find a home on the same hand? You tell me how that works.
It doesn't
Your actions carry enough to make me feel. I mean really feel. You tell me if a robot lays in bed, accompanied by our conversation. Picking apart details until I find the word that pushed me over your line.
Being human is what made my throat swell shut when you explained that it wasn't me it was you. Try and explain to me how a robot could associate a ticket stub with a broken heart.
So if I'm a robot someone needs to show me where the off switch is. I wish you could just see that a couple things on my mind means that I'm running out of places to hide the hurt.
But I know I'm human.
I'm human because my knees have been brought down at my bedside and I've felt something more than mortal.
But when my fingernails latched onto the idea a little voice reminded me to open up my palms and give.
So what do I do when my fingernails won't give up?
Now the question I have for you is... Does all of this make me more human than you?
Take a stab at me and I will prove it.
I bleed, and your words carry enough weight to make it happen.
I know I'm human because I put my heart and soul into the trail of ink my pen leaves behind and still loose my train of thought midsentence.
How do I take a step forward when my heart is headed in a direction that my attention span refuses to pursue?
I'm only human.
But does it really make me human if my life is revolved around more than a den and a blackberry bush?
No wait, I know I'm human.
I know I'm human because my fingertips clench to greed while my palms open to give.
But they both find a home on the same hand? You tell me how that works.
It doesn't
Your actions carry enough to make me feel. I mean really feel. You tell me if a robot lays in bed, accompanied by our conversation. Picking apart details until I find the word that pushed me over your line.
Being human is what made my throat swell shut when you explained that it wasn't me it was you. Try and explain to me how a robot could associate a ticket stub with a broken heart.
So if I'm a robot someone needs to show me where the off switch is. I wish you could just see that a couple things on my mind means that I'm running out of places to hide the hurt.
But I know I'm human.
I'm human because my knees have been brought down at my bedside and I've felt something more than mortal.
But when my fingernails latched onto the idea a little voice reminded me to open up my palms and give.
So what do I do when my fingernails won't give up?
Now the question I have for you is... Does all of this make me more human than you?
sleep
When do I sleep? I dont...
If you want to be successfull sleep needs to take one for the team.
Hold up, I know what youre thinking.
"But Simba, the calcium pumps would never regenerate. You're a blithering idiot, the Reticualr Activation system is such a fundemental part of the Medulla Oblongata. How will the hippocampus ever rejuvenate??"( all said in an educated british accent)
and heres what I'm thinking
I understand the pottential of the potassium ions to repolarize the synapse but when it comes down to it.
I don't care.
Life doesn't mean anything unless you're willing to drop the textbook and pick up a crayon.
I gurantee you could understand every chemical change in the cerebrum. But until you realize that the 26th at the bottom corner of the page finishes your sail boat you life will remain as black and white as the algorithmic theories you have based it on.
So you can keep your theoretical philosiphies of algebraic content. Cuz I just found a youtube video that made me think with my heart. No nuerotransmitters just a flow of blood leaving my ventricle through the aaorta. No amount of your medical school can turn that cloud into an idea and no amount of research will produce a father son relationship
Did chapter 13 say anthing about life outside of the Dura-Mater? Because I promise thats where everything is really going on.
Drop your textbook and pick up a freakin crayon. Because that line right above the ducks beak it doesn't mean anything until you learn to break its barrier.
If you want to be successfull sleep needs to take one for the team.
Hold up, I know what youre thinking.
"But Simba, the calcium pumps would never regenerate. You're a blithering idiot, the Reticualr Activation system is such a fundemental part of the Medulla Oblongata. How will the hippocampus ever rejuvenate??"( all said in an educated british accent)
and heres what I'm thinking
I understand the pottential of the potassium ions to repolarize the synapse but when it comes down to it.
I don't care.
Life doesn't mean anything unless you're willing to drop the textbook and pick up a crayon.
I gurantee you could understand every chemical change in the cerebrum. But until you realize that the 26th at the bottom corner of the page finishes your sail boat you life will remain as black and white as the algorithmic theories you have based it on.
So you can keep your theoretical philosiphies of algebraic content. Cuz I just found a youtube video that made me think with my heart. No nuerotransmitters just a flow of blood leaving my ventricle through the aaorta. No amount of your medical school can turn that cloud into an idea and no amount of research will produce a father son relationship
Did chapter 13 say anthing about life outside of the Dura-Mater? Because I promise thats where everything is really going on.
Drop your textbook and pick up a freakin crayon. Because that line right above the ducks beak it doesn't mean anything until you learn to break its barrier.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Some swag from famous people
Abraham Lincoln
you cannot build charecter and courage by taking away a mans initiative and independence.
Winston Churchill
Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak, it is also what it takes to sit down and listen.
Nelson Mandella
I learned that courage was not absence of fear, but triumph over it.
Ghandi
Courage doesn't always roar, somtimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day that says "I will try again tomorrow"
you cannot build charecter and courage by taking away a mans initiative and independence.
Winston Churchill
Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak, it is also what it takes to sit down and listen.
Nelson Mandella
I learned that courage was not absence of fear, but triumph over it.
Ghandi
Courage doesn't always roar, somtimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day that says "I will try again tomorrow"
Courage-The quality of mind that enables a person to face difficulty, danger and pain.
You ask me what my bones have to say...
Well I'm only 17 and haven't quite figured out life yet but I'm getting close. There is a lot going on but I was able to catch a few Luekocytes on their way out through the periosteum and I think you might wanna hear what they have to say...
But listen, I know what you're thinking and I don't blame you. Give me a chance.
My world depends on their decision to leave the security of my compact bone.
"Luekocyte" is the medical term for a white blood cell. White blood cells are incharge of fighting infection. You tell me that doesn't sound like courage...
Someone or something leaving the safety of their home to take care of a dilemma in a foreign place or land. What do you think about when you see a soilder at the airport?
My bodies ability to fight through the daily dose of chaos and devestation my world spoon feeds me is what liberates me to love, live and feel. This idea begins at the very foundation of who I am, and because my bones have discovered Gods universal secret the rest of my body has structured itself around their ways.
At my most fundamental level I am surviving on courage.
My ability to step on top of my setbacks has given me a new view, a view where life doesn't come at the exspense of my families broken hearts. A view contradicting the idea of drug use to setback the pain.
I can now see that somewhere in the distance after the casket closes and the headstone is laid. My path continues...
But don't ask me what the path is like because I'm not their yet. Right now I'm just hoping it's the same asphalt, and that the yellow lines didn't give up where I felt my knees hit the ground.
It would be nice to know that someone could make the journey with me. Becuase I don't know if the holes in my shoes could handle much more of this climb.
Well I'm only 17 and haven't quite figured out life yet but I'm getting close. There is a lot going on but I was able to catch a few Luekocytes on their way out through the periosteum and I think you might wanna hear what they have to say...
But listen, I know what you're thinking and I don't blame you. Give me a chance.
My world depends on their decision to leave the security of my compact bone.
"Luekocyte" is the medical term for a white blood cell. White blood cells are incharge of fighting infection. You tell me that doesn't sound like courage...
Someone or something leaving the safety of their home to take care of a dilemma in a foreign place or land. What do you think about when you see a soilder at the airport?
My bodies ability to fight through the daily dose of chaos and devestation my world spoon feeds me is what liberates me to love, live and feel. This idea begins at the very foundation of who I am, and because my bones have discovered Gods universal secret the rest of my body has structured itself around their ways.
At my most fundamental level I am surviving on courage.
My ability to step on top of my setbacks has given me a new view, a view where life doesn't come at the exspense of my families broken hearts. A view contradicting the idea of drug use to setback the pain.
I can now see that somewhere in the distance after the casket closes and the headstone is laid. My path continues...
But don't ask me what the path is like because I'm not their yet. Right now I'm just hoping it's the same asphalt, and that the yellow lines didn't give up where I felt my knees hit the ground.
It would be nice to know that someone could make the journey with me. Becuase I don't know if the holes in my shoes could handle much more of this climb.
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