John Deacon is one of my biggest bass influences and this little known Queen song is one of my favorite bass lines ever. Just raw, aggressive and feels like it is going to blow you away.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Quote of the Day - Part Two:
"The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" - T.S. Elliot
S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.
LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats 5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question … 10
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, 15
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, 20
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; 25
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate; 30
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go 35
Talking of Michelangelo.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair— 40
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare 45
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, 50
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all— 55
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways? 60
And how should I presume?
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress 65
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets 70
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! 75
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? 80
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, 85
And in short, I was afraid.
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while, 90
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”— 95
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while, 100
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen: 105
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”
. . . . . 110
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use, 115
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
I grow old … I grow old … 120
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me. 125
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown 130
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.
LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats 5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question … 10
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, 15
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, 20
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; 25
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate; 30
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go 35
Talking of Michelangelo.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair— 40
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare 45
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, 50
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all— 55
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways? 60
And how should I presume?
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress 65
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets 70
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! 75
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? 80
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, 85
And in short, I was afraid.
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while, 90
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”— 95
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while, 100
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen: 105
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”
. . . . . 110
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use, 115
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
I grow old … I grow old … 120
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me. 125
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown 130
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
Quote of the Day:
"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go."
-T.S. Elliot
-T.S. Elliot
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Quote of the Day, the Fourth:
"I imagine that right now, you're feeling a bit like Alice. Hmm? Tumbling down the rabbit hole? "
-Morpheus, 'The Matrix'
-Morpheus, 'The Matrix'
A Post Marked Letter
Someday I hope I can bring this,
someday I hope to give,
someday I hope to return
and have it not miss.
I want to give you
these things,
I want you to have
so much,
but it's not my place.
Everyone wants security,
the trappings of divine love
and the freedom from being guilty
and how I can give it
I know not.
I just know my words are weak
and my rhymes are fleeting
at this very late hour.
But there is sincerity
lining my hope.
I feel the sunrise
and know the morning
will be rushing all to soon
and what of the night?
There is a sacredness,
this divine covering
oft times missed at this hour,
witching and bewitching it is.
someday I hope to give,
someday I hope to return
and have it not miss.
I want to give you
these things,
I want you to have
so much,
but it's not my place.
Everyone wants security,
the trappings of divine love
and the freedom from being guilty
and how I can give it
I know not.
I just know my words are weak
and my rhymes are fleeting
at this very late hour.
But there is sincerity
lining my hope.
I feel the sunrise
and know the morning
will be rushing all to soon
and what of the night?
There is a sacredness,
this divine covering
oft times missed at this hour,
witching and bewitching it is.
Quote of the Day - Part Three:
"I grew up hearing everyone tell me 'God loves you'. I would say big deal, God loves everybody. That don't make me special! That just proves that God ain't got no taste. And, I don't think He does. Thank God! Because He ...takes the junk of our lives and makes the most beautiful art."
-Rich Mullins
-Rich Mullins
Quote of the Day - Part Two:
"I am deeply distressed by what I only can call in our Christian culture the idolatry of the Scriptures. For many Christians, the Bible is not a pointer to God but God himself... God cannot be confined within the covers of a leather-bound book. I develop a nasty rash around people who speak as if mere scrutiny of its pages will reveal precisely how God thinks and precisely what God wants."
-Brennan Manning
-Brennan Manning
Quote of the Day:
"The Bible is not a book for the faint of heart--it is a book full of all the greed and glory and violence and tenderness and sex and betrayal that befits mankind. It is not the collection of pretty little anecdotes mouthed by pious little church mice--it does not so much nibble at our shoe leather as it cuts to the heart and splits the marrow from the bone. It does not give us answers fitted to our small-minded questions, but truth that goes beyond what we even know to ask."
-Rich Mullins
-Rich Mullins
It feels like every time I get my mind off of...and not thinking of...
Everything comes rushing back at once.
As much as there can be with so little.
I think I just need to find a way to keep my mind engaged and not worrying about the future, just taking care of everything I can as I can.
It's as silly as infatuation is...
Being lost in me as I'm lost in...
I can't give a concise disposition because of..
So much and so little at the same time.
Aggravating inconsistencies as I wander about wondering and being curious about what is to come, in this and all there is to see.
Everything comes rushing back at once.
As much as there can be with so little.
I think I just need to find a way to keep my mind engaged and not worrying about the future, just taking care of everything I can as I can.
It's as silly as infatuation is...
Being lost in me as I'm lost in...
I can't give a concise disposition because of..
So much and so little at the same time.
Aggravating inconsistencies as I wander about wondering and being curious about what is to come, in this and all there is to see.
Charlie Brown...drawn Manga style? o_O
Quite an interesting take on one my most beloved cartoon strips:
http://shuroki.com/2007/07/22/charlie-brown-manga-style/
Note: I just realized that the post for those drawings was done on my twenty-first birthday...strange.
http://shuroki.com/2007/07/22/charlie-brown-manga-style/
Note: I just realized that the post for those drawings was done on my twenty-first birthday...strange.
Monday, October 26, 2009
It's sad what depresses me and gets me into ruts and to how seriously I contemplate death and the nature of suicide.
This is all just so unnaturally silly and pointless.
I'm not a nihilist, life has meaning but everything people are getting so worked up about is meaningless...
Ecclesiastes is about the only wisdom book in the Bible I bother to constantly reread but the basic message is to love and fear God, do work you love and enjoy marriage.
That is it.
Love God, love people and stay busy.
Nothing else, no other expectations and God that is nice.
Because right now I just don't care.
I'm so sick of everything else and don't want to bother contemplating the absolute absurdity of what this all doesn't mean anymore.
I don't even want hugs or to be seen.
I want enough peace and quiet from the feelings of unexpressed internal agony long, freedom long enough so I can just finish why I'm here so I can lay down and go to sleep.
I want to go Home.
I can't stand being an outcast, this alien with no homeland...I'm a stranger who is only getting more lost and disconnected as the days go on.
Only a handful know of the Lover I speak of, only a few know what it is like to look up and realize you ARE standing in the hand of eternity and that hand loves you and died for you, died and lived again to fix the mistakes you made.
I need to know someone who feels it as deep, feels the agony of sin and know it's been washed away. I need someone to help me that loves Jesus more than they could ever hope to love me...I just need a reminder that despite the drowning feelings...that everything is going to be okay...I'm not the only one insane in this overwhelmingly dull and sane world.
I'm so sick of the hate, of the pain and all this useless trash.
This is all just so unnaturally silly and pointless.
I'm not a nihilist, life has meaning but everything people are getting so worked up about is meaningless...
Ecclesiastes is about the only wisdom book in the Bible I bother to constantly reread but the basic message is to love and fear God, do work you love and enjoy marriage.
That is it.
Love God, love people and stay busy.
Nothing else, no other expectations and God that is nice.
Because right now I just don't care.
I'm so sick of everything else and don't want to bother contemplating the absolute absurdity of what this all doesn't mean anymore.
I don't even want hugs or to be seen.
I want enough peace and quiet from the feelings of unexpressed internal agony long, freedom long enough so I can just finish why I'm here so I can lay down and go to sleep.
I want to go Home.
I can't stand being an outcast, this alien with no homeland...I'm a stranger who is only getting more lost and disconnected as the days go on.
Only a handful know of the Lover I speak of, only a few know what it is like to look up and realize you ARE standing in the hand of eternity and that hand loves you and died for you, died and lived again to fix the mistakes you made.
I need to know someone who feels it as deep, feels the agony of sin and know it's been washed away. I need someone to help me that loves Jesus more than they could ever hope to love me...I just need a reminder that despite the drowning feelings...that everything is going to be okay...I'm not the only one insane in this overwhelmingly dull and sane world.
I'm so sick of the hate, of the pain and all this useless trash.
Not Enough Time, Not for Now, Not for Later
Yeah I'm drunk on fear
and intoxicated with pain.
Trembling hands shaking
from the pending collapse.
I'm addicted to me
hoping for a collage of hope
while smirking the smile of cynicism.
I'm closing the curtain
the one that was torn
and take another handful of pills
as my vision fades back out
and the tremors return
and I return to the subject
that is always about me.
I got a note in the post
saying my old idols
they are getting jealous
and missing me,
wanting to know when
they can come back over for tea.
The golden calf of adultery,
the alcoholism I haven't developed yet
and my prejudicial hate all there
sending out love letters.
I don't sleep anymore
I gave it up
because of life
starting to call me out
on my religious bluffs
and the slight of hand
about my frailness
when it comes to this illness.
I hear the abrasive guitar
and the screams it matches in my soul.
I wanted mainstream success
to be a poet with the ages
and now I don't care.
Let it burn,
let this all burn down
to the sounds of nihilistic glee
that comes with the Knowledge of all knowledge.
I can't breath with the weight
pressing on my lungs
forcing the air out
as a prayer
and I want to be free
so sick of me
so sick of me
as I cry mercy
and for love
oh my Love.
What if I could reach
deep inside
and feel your heartbeat tonight?
Would you feel me,
could you hear my doubt
and feel the fear inside of me?
Would it strike you as funny
to know I'm more terrified
of happiness
than I ever was of this illness?
Burn my lips
and cut my tongue,
just take these words from me
and purify this mind.
Music can't tame the savage beast
barely held in check
right behind my breast bone
as I scream the profane
while clutching to promises
of a blessing
and God,
it is now or never.
The finite is calling out the infinite.
Crush me like an insect
or heal me.
Restore my heart
or blast me into nothingness.
I can't speak of a preference
because I don't care.
I'm too numb to care,
I'm too number to bother
because to me
death is just preferable
because I'll never speak sin,
I'll never break away from You
and never run again.
You see the coward I am
and the fool I've been.
How drunk off of fear
and how intoxicated I am by sin.
My soul is stretched,
too little over too much area
and Lover rescue me.
Save me or end me
it's all the same
from down here
in this hole
below the ground.
and intoxicated with pain.
Trembling hands shaking
from the pending collapse.
I'm addicted to me
hoping for a collage of hope
while smirking the smile of cynicism.
I'm closing the curtain
the one that was torn
and take another handful of pills
as my vision fades back out
and the tremors return
and I return to the subject
that is always about me.
I got a note in the post
saying my old idols
they are getting jealous
and missing me,
wanting to know when
they can come back over for tea.
The golden calf of adultery,
the alcoholism I haven't developed yet
and my prejudicial hate all there
sending out love letters.
I don't sleep anymore
I gave it up
because of life
starting to call me out
on my religious bluffs
and the slight of hand
about my frailness
when it comes to this illness.
I hear the abrasive guitar
and the screams it matches in my soul.
I wanted mainstream success
to be a poet with the ages
and now I don't care.
Let it burn,
let this all burn down
to the sounds of nihilistic glee
that comes with the Knowledge of all knowledge.
I can't breath with the weight
pressing on my lungs
forcing the air out
as a prayer
and I want to be free
so sick of me
so sick of me
as I cry mercy
and for love
oh my Love.
What if I could reach
deep inside
and feel your heartbeat tonight?
Would you feel me,
could you hear my doubt
and feel the fear inside of me?
Would it strike you as funny
to know I'm more terrified
of happiness
than I ever was of this illness?
Burn my lips
and cut my tongue,
just take these words from me
and purify this mind.
Music can't tame the savage beast
barely held in check
right behind my breast bone
as I scream the profane
while clutching to promises
of a blessing
and God,
it is now or never.
The finite is calling out the infinite.
Crush me like an insect
or heal me.
Restore my heart
or blast me into nothingness.
I can't speak of a preference
because I don't care.
I'm too numb to care,
I'm too number to bother
because to me
death is just preferable
because I'll never speak sin,
I'll never break away from You
and never run again.
You see the coward I am
and the fool I've been.
How drunk off of fear
and how intoxicated I am by sin.
My soul is stretched,
too little over too much area
and Lover rescue me.
Save me or end me
it's all the same
from down here
in this hole
below the ground.
"Truth is an arrow and the gate is narrow that it passes through,
He unleashed His power at an unknown hour that no one knew.
How long can I listen to the lies of prejudice?
How long can I stay drunk on fear out in the wilderness?
Can I cast it aside, all this loyalty and this pride?
Will I ever learn that there'll be no peace, that the war won't cease
Until He returns?"
He unleashed His power at an unknown hour that no one knew.
How long can I listen to the lies of prejudice?
How long can I stay drunk on fear out in the wilderness?
Can I cast it aside, all this loyalty and this pride?
Will I ever learn that there'll be no peace, that the war won't cease
Until He returns?"
A Night
It was a beautiful concert.
So much soul, so much spirit, so much power.
As of right now it's being rebroadcast for a second time and supposed to be for the next couple of days:
http://www.youtube.com/U2official
If you can watch this and still not like U2:
1.You are not trying very hard.
2.I think you lack anything that resembles taste.
3.I love you all the same but really now, beauty people! It's beauty!
I can't sleep.
As silly as the right thing may be some days...it's the right thing.
God knows I'm going to miss getting a morning wake up call from my beloved and beautiful Muse, to deliver news and inspire me to new challenges.
I don't know the future and doubt I want to...I don't know where I'm going just that I am going. I'll expire when I do and will fight to do the right thing until my last breath.
I'm trying to figure out who I really am...what it means to be an adult...what it means to be a real man...what responsibility I should have...what it is I'm going to throw myself into.
I only know I really do not know me as well as I thought I did.
God I want to burn with a passion to love and serve, I want to fall madly in love with who You are and with loving people. I'm sick to death of my selfishness and putting myself ahead of actual love.
Breath words of life into my mouth, stretch my heart and mind to the breaking part and just consume me with flames of love.
Show me the reality, the hope and the love that can be found.
If there are words I can speak, may the lovely Muse hear and take heart that hope prevails through the night.
So much soul, so much spirit, so much power.
As of right now it's being rebroadcast for a second time and supposed to be for the next couple of days:
http://www.youtube.com/U2official
If you can watch this and still not like U2:
1.You are not trying very hard.
2.I think you lack anything that resembles taste.
3.I love you all the same but really now, beauty people! It's beauty!
I can't sleep.
As silly as the right thing may be some days...it's the right thing.
God knows I'm going to miss getting a morning wake up call from my beloved and beautiful Muse, to deliver news and inspire me to new challenges.
I don't know the future and doubt I want to...I don't know where I'm going just that I am going. I'll expire when I do and will fight to do the right thing until my last breath.
I'm trying to figure out who I really am...what it means to be an adult...what it means to be a real man...what responsibility I should have...what it is I'm going to throw myself into.
I only know I really do not know me as well as I thought I did.
God I want to burn with a passion to love and serve, I want to fall madly in love with who You are and with loving people. I'm sick to death of my selfishness and putting myself ahead of actual love.
Breath words of life into my mouth, stretch my heart and mind to the breaking part and just consume me with flames of love.
Show me the reality, the hope and the love that can be found.
If there are words I can speak, may the lovely Muse hear and take heart that hope prevails through the night.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Ah reincarnation...has absolutely nothing to do with my spiritual or religious beliefs but for fun sake here are some things I wish I was either born as or if I get screwed over and sent back I will like to be:
-A rock.
-A grain of sand.
-A teaspoon.
-A droplet of rain.
-A hydrogen atom.
-A philosophical tangent.
Or my personal favorite:
-A Cherry Blossom.
-A rock.
-A grain of sand.
-A teaspoon.
-A droplet of rain.
-A hydrogen atom.
-A philosophical tangent.
Or my personal favorite:
-A Cherry Blossom.
Quote of the Day:
“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one”
-C.S. Lewis
-C.S. Lewis
Nice Night
I made brownies for my best friend's birthday and took aforementioned brownies and hung out with him and his wife.
Me and James have been playing through this new game called Borderlands that he got for his birthday. It's an interesting attempt to breath new life into the incredibly tired realm of first person shooters by injecting RPG elements into it (think Fallout 3 except an actual attempt at giving slightly less linear game play with more weapons then you can shake a stick at). I could use more RPG elements and more story...but games these days are tailored fit to a generation that responds to short attention spans that only like shiny things, explosions and shiny explosions.
But it was a fun night.
We ate a good number of the brownies and consumed and unhealthy amount of caffeine.
Sadly we never got around to recording ourselves while we played the game because some absurd stuff occurred.
Many classic lines involving accusations of me drugging the brownies, large amounts of conversation questioning the very nature of reality and James and myself laughing like mad anytime a sufficient enough explosions happened or one of us did something awesome.
It was nice.
Reminded me of the few things I actually enjoy in this area.
But...I can't wait to move.
I'll miss the few friends I'm still on really good terms with...but I feel more exciting things are yet to come.
I've been reading through "Jesus Loves You This I Know" which was coauthored by Craig Gross, founder of xxxchurch.com ministries, and God this book is so exciting!
It reminds me why I was called to ministry...to go to the gutter and tell people Jesus loves them regardless of their past or present...we aren't called to be perfect before we are loved...instead we are called to be transformed by His love and power.
I want to get into the gutter God has called me to...I want to find this area...with or without friends, past or present.
I'm willing to go...it's just following.
Does this make sense to anyone else?
I'm so sick of being told what we can't do...who we can't go to...I want to find where I'm being called and go. Regardless of my health...I want to be poured out and to empty myself so I can be filled with Love, true everylasting Love.
If I can give myself, surrender myself to this flames and let all this spiritual fat burn away and all this unneeded baggage...I want to go. I want to love everyone, show the 'worst sinner' that they are loved unconditonally by the same Jesus who saved and loves me.
It's going to hut so bad, I'm going to loose everything on this planet...but I don't care anymore. If I can't have Jesus, if I can't go where I'm called then to Hell with all of this anyways. I'm alive now and may be dead soon anyways...what do other things matter? Possessions? Money? Health? Relationships?
God will provide what I need if I just go...but where is it?
Am I on the right path by getting this job, saving up money and checking out schools in California? Should I still keep applying for a ministry internship in Vegas with xxxchurch? Where do I go from here Father? Show me! Please!
I'm so sick of me and I'm so in need of You!
Please...show me the door and I'll go crashing through it with a freaking bat if I have to...I just need to know.
Please.
Me and James have been playing through this new game called Borderlands that he got for his birthday. It's an interesting attempt to breath new life into the incredibly tired realm of first person shooters by injecting RPG elements into it (think Fallout 3 except an actual attempt at giving slightly less linear game play with more weapons then you can shake a stick at). I could use more RPG elements and more story...but games these days are tailored fit to a generation that responds to short attention spans that only like shiny things, explosions and shiny explosions.
But it was a fun night.
We ate a good number of the brownies and consumed and unhealthy amount of caffeine.
Sadly we never got around to recording ourselves while we played the game because some absurd stuff occurred.
Many classic lines involving accusations of me drugging the brownies, large amounts of conversation questioning the very nature of reality and James and myself laughing like mad anytime a sufficient enough explosions happened or one of us did something awesome.
It was nice.
Reminded me of the few things I actually enjoy in this area.
But...I can't wait to move.
I'll miss the few friends I'm still on really good terms with...but I feel more exciting things are yet to come.
I've been reading through "Jesus Loves You This I Know" which was coauthored by Craig Gross, founder of xxxchurch.com ministries, and God this book is so exciting!
It reminds me why I was called to ministry...to go to the gutter and tell people Jesus loves them regardless of their past or present...we aren't called to be perfect before we are loved...instead we are called to be transformed by His love and power.
I want to get into the gutter God has called me to...I want to find this area...with or without friends, past or present.
I'm willing to go...it's just following.
Does this make sense to anyone else?
I'm so sick of being told what we can't do...who we can't go to...I want to find where I'm being called and go. Regardless of my health...I want to be poured out and to empty myself so I can be filled with Love, true everylasting Love.
If I can give myself, surrender myself to this flames and let all this spiritual fat burn away and all this unneeded baggage...I want to go. I want to love everyone, show the 'worst sinner' that they are loved unconditonally by the same Jesus who saved and loves me.
It's going to hut so bad, I'm going to loose everything on this planet...but I don't care anymore. If I can't have Jesus, if I can't go where I'm called then to Hell with all of this anyways. I'm alive now and may be dead soon anyways...what do other things matter? Possessions? Money? Health? Relationships?
God will provide what I need if I just go...but where is it?
Am I on the right path by getting this job, saving up money and checking out schools in California? Should I still keep applying for a ministry internship in Vegas with xxxchurch? Where do I go from here Father? Show me! Please!
I'm so sick of me and I'm so in need of You!
Please...show me the door and I'll go crashing through it with a freaking bat if I have to...I just need to know.
Please.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Pain.
Hooray.
Maybe, just maybe, I'll learn whatever lesson it is I am supposed to from this...shall we say...proverbial Hell and I will wake up tomorrow a new man!
Or maybe as a rutabaga plant!
I would take being a rutabaga over me anyday.
At least rutabagas are not known to offend people, hurt their feelings, be rude to them, be in any real substantial relationship and in general have a great non-nerve and non-feeling time!
Hooray!
Hooray.
Maybe, just maybe, I'll learn whatever lesson it is I am supposed to from this...shall we say...proverbial Hell and I will wake up tomorrow a new man!
Or maybe as a rutabaga plant!
I would take being a rutabaga over me anyday.
At least rutabagas are not known to offend people, hurt their feelings, be rude to them, be in any real substantial relationship and in general have a great non-nerve and non-feeling time!
Hooray!
Silent Moonlight
I don't know when we'll see
I don't know when we can meet again
I don't know when the music will start
just so we can slow dance once more.
I just know the loneliness of silence
ringing in a house
that never could be a home
as I wait for insight
that might never come.
Sparks of light flicker through the air
as moonlight dies as clouds pass by
and there is no song
no music to free
nothing to remind of why we came to be.
I'm not asking for blood
and I'm not giving my angst
I just want to know
if all this worth it.
If the pain, the tears
and dull ache
are setting you free.
I need to know
if my sacrifice
will give you clearance
and freedom to fly.
I bite my tongue,
not to hold back venom
but to set you free
to give you wings
and blessings from above
as I ache to understand
just where
just how
if any of this matters.
With or without any
any of these cares
or matters or dreams
I bid you well
and a good night.
I retire to my cave
the dwelling I made
and know not what to hope for.
A return of status quo
or for redemption.
I falter in breath
and in sight.
All that I know,
is I wish simply to go Home.
I don't know when we can meet again
I don't know when the music will start
just so we can slow dance once more.
I just know the loneliness of silence
ringing in a house
that never could be a home
as I wait for insight
that might never come.
Sparks of light flicker through the air
as moonlight dies as clouds pass by
and there is no song
no music to free
nothing to remind of why we came to be.
I'm not asking for blood
and I'm not giving my angst
I just want to know
if all this worth it.
If the pain, the tears
and dull ache
are setting you free.
I need to know
if my sacrifice
will give you clearance
and freedom to fly.
I bite my tongue,
not to hold back venom
but to set you free
to give you wings
and blessings from above
as I ache to understand
just where
just how
if any of this matters.
With or without any
any of these cares
or matters or dreams
I bid you well
and a good night.
I retire to my cave
the dwelling I made
and know not what to hope for.
A return of status quo
or for redemption.
I falter in breath
and in sight.
All that I know,
is I wish simply to go Home.
Quote of the Day:
"I realized that it was not by wisdom that poets write their poetry, but by a kind of nature or inspiration, such as you find in seers and prophets; for these also say many beautiful things, but do not know anything of what they say."
-Socrates
-Socrates
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