The Places You Found LoveEveryone, but you especially as a woman, is biologically programmed to find babies cute. It's an evolutionary imperative, because the rational thing to do when you've got a screaming, shitting dependant taking up your food, is to kill it, and we need something to stop us doing that. It's also why people are generally attracted to big eyes and smooth skin - because they're characteristics of children.
And I'm not saying this to detract from the beauty of parenthood, or to make you sad, I'm saying it to point out that this fact doesn't make a baby's laugh any less wonderful. And I don't think the source of anything can make it less so.
This is why I can point out that any form of love isn't God or fate or destiny, it's that if two people have a strong emotional attachment, their children are more likely to survive.
Atomic bombs are beautiful.
So I will say that the me I am now, will and always has been feeling what I feel, but that sentence doesn't even make sense until we consider that
The Reasons We DieWhat I meant to say was that sometimes I just stare at the cigarette in my hands and beg for it to stop messing around and just kill me already.
But I figured you don't want to hear that.
The Shifting Nature of RealityYou asked me, "In these dreams, what does it look like?" I told you it looks different every time. Sometimes it's like a million feathers falling, sometimes it's like snow, sometimes it's like little stones, sometimes like ash, sometimes like a fine sand blowing across the hills. It's always silent. It falls around me but it never touches me. It never sticks. I told you sometimes I see dim figures walking in the distance through all the falling white. I told you I wish one would turn around and come to me. I wish one had your face. I wish the pink of your cheeks and blue of your eyes would appear to me unveiled from out of the drift. But the sad small figures don't turn around. They walk on, shoulders low, and disappear. I just watch them. You said, "I'm here now," and touched my hand. "I'm here now."
The Time Gone ByTick tock. All day. Every day is tick tocking by. There is no clock in your office that ticks or tocks, but you can hear the tick tock in your head. Tick. That's another second of your life gone, you think. Tock. That's one more second waiting for the man to tell you what to do. Tick. I'm a thinker, you think. Tock. Time to be a doer. Tick. You walk into your boss' office. Tock. I quit.
The clock stops.
The NuancePlay it one more time please, I need to hear it again. I need to make sure that its the only sound in my head. Play it again for me, I want to hear it once more. I want to make sure the only sound is correct. I don't want to hear that stare again. I don't want to see those words. I'll play the part again, I need to play it again. I need to make sure that every note is right. Give me a second to rehearse that part once more, I haven't been playing it right this entire time. I know it might sound right to you, but it doesn't sound right to me. I can't hear those words anymore. I never want to see that stare again. I have to keep playing. I never want to hear that again.
The Silence Goes On For YearsIn case of emergency, break glass. Throw plates. Cave to the insecurities you've harbored all along. Scream. Curse. Panic. Accuse her of never loving you, even though you know she did and still does. Tell her you never loved her. Tell yourself. Feel the world crumbling around you. Rip the rest of it down. Ignore her pleas. Her tears. Your regrets. Watch yourself leave, unable to stop your own feet. Slam the door. Keep walking. Realize, too late, that you didn't mean it.
The Art of Finding FlawsMaybe that's all it means, to grow up; to watch your heroes become human, right before your eyes.
the Millennia LaterDesolation has its own stark beauty. It's in the limbs of dead trees twisting up, pleading at the grey sky. It's in the air, cold with a faint hint of smoke and the barest breeze that stirs up the dust at your feet. The white-grey ash falls like snowflakes, dusting your hair, your coat, your mask. You catch one of the flakes and it crumbles between your gloved fingers. The ground is packed as hard as concrete under your boots as you turn your back on this cold, still world. You look up; the moon is barely visible. You will carry that memory with you as you go back underground. Mankind no longer has use for the stars.
Blessed CurseTo derail the myth or fantasy that beautiful flesh has meaning or virtue or spiritual depth,
I stand on my proverbial cracked, and broken soapbox with an audience of one who was captured by no fault of his own.
Physical beauty is similar to an ultra wealthy individual who will never know if its truly love or simply shallow greed lying beside him.
Is cellular allure an asset?
Possibly, certainly it is a time sensitive one as the doors opened by such allurement close quickly;
unless your have the staying power of compassion and intellect.
Does a beautiful facade make life easier, less painful?
Life within a pressurized can is excruciating.
It may hurt even more to be under a microscope as all the dirty, bruising stumbles and falls of life take place.
How do you have a healthy relationship when your exterior makes you subject to the base desires of our species?
How do you not objectify yourself when the entire world does?
Hard lessons, tougher consequences and the will to shine so bright
Individuality and IdentityYou are individual. There is no one like you, not even your identical twin. The collection of thoughts and feelings that make you yourself are unique to you. In all of history, they have occurred only once, and they will never come around again.
And yet, you still conform. You wish you could be just a little different, a bit more like so-and-so - in short, you wish that you could be different from what you are and more like everyone else. Many of you will have, at some point, wished you were someone else, or that you had the latest symbol of status, or the approval of your peers. You wish to trade away your individuality and swap it for an identity, one which proves that you are just like everyone else.
The atoms that form matter are identical. There is, literally, nothing to tell them apart. Even their location isn't an accurate indicator, because at a quantum level location is just a probability. Despite that, atoms cannot occupy the same space. They repulse each other. It takes an e
Parrots Confidential (The Value of Animal Life)(11/15/2014)
For those who are considering the idea of raising pets, especially exotic birds in particular, this is a good documentary to watch; it's called Parrot Confidential. It's a whole episode for about an hour long (but for those who may not have the time you can still watch a chunk of the material and get the gist of what's going on):
The video particularly discusses an issue with the pet trade of exotic parrots and the harsh reality of the consequences of humans taking them in as pets. The documentary uses a collection of personal stories that discuss the issues of parrot-owning, including a bird breeder who would find that many of the parrots bred from her shelter are being constantly re-homed, making her feel that she is contributing to the problem. Another mentions the issue of egg-snatching and how human inte
Loosing YourselfDon't ever loose yourself in the crowd
Stand apart from the crowd
In which direction the crowd is rushing
But don't ever let them tell you..
About the Direction you should follow
Rather decide it for yourself
If your chosen path is the right one,
You'll achieve something
Otherwise you'll learn a priceless lesson.
In this way...
You'll never return empty handed.
IrrationalDo you know what pain is? Something you feel when you are hurt? A human feeling one suffers when physically afflicted? That, my friend, is where you’d be wrong.
Pain is nothing more than a mental reaction, something our minds make us feel as a defensive mechanism. A way to recognize something is harmful to our bodies and prompt us to “Cease and Desist!”.
If this is the case then how can we suffer pain on a mental and emotional level? Be cast into a train of thought, exposed to a certain stimulus, that cause our bodies to tire, wither and ache as if shards of glass were pushed deep into our skin?
Does that not seem irrational? How can thoughts and emotions, sadness, depression, anger and even love itself, cause us very real pain? It’s madness, isn’t it?
But, perhaps that is the answer: madness. We, as creatures of thought, emotions and rationality, are all very much mad. We, as human beings, are irrational and thus we feel such things.
But is that such a ba
Private Values, Public Faith (Part I)Do Religious Values have any Place in the Public Square?
The general consensus among those of faith and without seem to be “no.” Religion is a personal preference and conviction. Personal convictions, while good for me based on various experiences and reasons, are not grounds for me to impose these convictions and others. I believe in God because (a) I was brought up to believe, (b) it gives me comfort, and (c) it makes me a better person. But someone else may have experienced religion in negative circumstances. Likewise a non-believer may not share feelings and values of religious pronouncements on reproduction, family, and (deeper still) premises that inform public action and (politically-speaking) policy.
A non-Christian, non-religious, non-believer also builds convictions derived from his experiences and holds onto them for various reasons. They too may have been brought up to hold certain values that give them comfort and in turn, according to those values, make