The Universe blinks and humanity, in all its cruel glory, comes into existence.
It blinks again, and we are gone.
Very nice! I think the same thing sometimes, if a big bang brought us here, then a big bang can take us out.
The Places You Found LoveEveryone 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 time is just another spacial dim
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 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.
The Loveless SmudgesYou never spoke about it, but I know you knew your father wasn't dead because each week you would receive a check with his signature. He can write, at least. When you were younger, I always watched you, waiting by the letter box or, if you forgot to wait, you careering across the yard at first sight of the postal carrier. You would study the envelopes for the old man's blocky handwriting. If it appeared, you would tear that bastard open. You pored over the checks, especially the John Hancock. You became a student of each loop and whorl; a professor of every dot or cross. If a curve became unexpectedly thick or severe or even, god forbid, broken, you would ruminate for days. What did these imperfections in his automatic mean? Did they indicate longing? A moment's hesitation? Was he angry? Upset? I imagine most children learn to read their fathers' moods from fatherly faces, paternal smiles, scowls, curious grins; you had the strange way ink dries on paper.
Here's to those who are hurting You're not poison ivy and you're not crushed mimosa, you're not a history of screwed ups and let downs, you're not choked hazard with nothing else to give. You're not his or hers or theirs to be tugged and pulled around by their selfish and egocentric whims and your future is certainly not on their leash. You don't combust into flames and extinguish into ashes on the click of their fingers, so breathe and relax. You don't owe anyone anything and you certainly are not their definition of damaged cassette tapes.
Tell anyone who had ever told you that you're not gritted teeth and clenched fist to screw off because you had been inhaling vile smoke and your lungs are turning black and your kidneys are rebelling into cement and stones and you are in the middle of pitfalls and booby traps and all you have are wrong wrong wrong advices that made you cry until your bones f
Can Christians Like Dragons?In other words, can a Christian morally have a love for dragons? The logic behind the question is that dragons by Biblical standards seem to be evil creatures. Therefore it should be incompatible to follow Jesus Christ and love dragons at the same time, right? This is what I've been accused of many times, being a firm holder to Truth yet having a soft spot for dragons. I would like to answer in detail these accusations, thus the reason for this article.
Let us look at dragons from every angle, starting with what The Sacred Scriptures say. In The Holy Bible the Hebrew word used for dragon(s) is 'tanniyn' and shows up 29 times in The Old Testament. But, do note that dragons are not always referred to under that word in Scripture, so the count is higher. I've divided these verses up into groups, mainly general and specific cases.
**Dragons in general
--in The Bible we see that dragons are often used by God as curses. Examples are the Babylonian Empire (Isaiah 1
The Bible Says God Doesn't Exist (Really!)
Many Christians wonder how anyone could doubt the existence of God, but it turns out it's right in the bible. If you read between the lines, it tells you there's no God
1) The bible claims that God sacrificed Jesus for our sins. (John 3:16, Romans 3:25, Ephesians 5:2, Hebrews 9:26) (This is ignoring Deuteronomy 24:16 and Ezekiel 18:20, which state that everyone is to be responsible for their own transgressions without anyone else dying for their sins, thus undermining the primary basis of Christianity.)
2) Since Jesus is God (2 Peter 1:1, John 10:30-33, and other verses), premise 1 means that God sacrificed himself.
3) A sacrifice involves the destruction of the entire being, including the spirit. This seems intuitively obvious especially for a self-sacrifice, since it's not much of a sacrifice if the martyr is guaranteed an eternity in heaven.
Brushing Up Against HistoryNovember 1963
I'm eight years old and sitting in class (I strangely recall that my seat was in the middle of second row, on the side away from the window), when the principal comes in to tell us that the president has been shot.
I do not know
what it means, but I know
that it scares me.
My mother meets Senator Robert F. Kennedy while he is campaigning in San Francisco and gets his autograph. I live with my father in a small town in Michigan, where every year leading up to Memorial Day, I sell paper poppies for the VFW.
blood of soldiers on the field
war has come home
I watch the news and see the body count, arranged like a scorecard. The numbers say we are winning, but one of those numbers is from our town, the only casualty that week. I don't know him, but I see his picture on the cover of Life Magazine.
I turn 17 the next month
and try to join the Marine Corp
my father will not sign
As a small-town b
The Background Of Evangelion
I have spent a fair amount of time trying to understand the use of the "Sephirothic Sytem" and I have finally come to terms of it's use and origins.
There isn't a lot of information about it on the internet so this is an exceptional chance for you to know what it is (you never know..... I might come in handy one day)
The Sephirothic Sytem is part of the Jewish culture and religion but it has also links into Christianity and some of you might know that, Christianity is a descendant branch from Jewish religion (Jesus himself was Jewish).
The Sephirothic Sytrem is part of the "Kabbalah" and is in this case a diagram representing 10 circles, each containing a virtue of God (Kindness, Understanding, Loving, Honesty Bravery etc....) Each circle represents a "Sephiroth" (thus it's name "Sephirotic System"), a Planet and a Colour. I will explain later what a "Sephiroth" is. Each circle or Sephiroth is linked to 2 pathways called "Channels". The Circles are set in such a w
God's Love Letter to YouThe words you are about to experience are true...
They will change your life if you let them,
for they come from the very heart of God
He loves you,
and He is the Father you have been looking for all your life
This is His love letter to you:
You may not know Me, but I know everything about you Psalm 139:1
I know when you sit down and when you rise up Psalm 139:2
I am familiar with all your ways Psalm 139:3
Even the very hairs on your head are numbered Matthew 10:30
For you were made in My image Genesis 1:27
In me, you live and move and have your being Acts 17:27-28
For you are my offspring Acts 17:28
I knew you even before you were conceived Jeremiah 1:4-5
I chose you, when I planned creation Ephesians 1:11-12
You were not a mistake,
for all your days are written in my book Psalm 139:15-16
I determined the exact time of your birth,
and where you would live Acts 17:26
You are fearfully and wonderfully made Psalm 139:14
I knit you together in you mother's wom
The Jimmy and Cindy manifesto
Shipping Manifesto/Character Analysis- Jimmy Neutron and Cindy Vortex
Magnets- how do they work?
We'll start by analyzing each character individually and then their relationship as a whole, particularly contrasting it with Jimmy/Betty. (For the sake of argument, all non-canon pairings will be ignored). On that note, the Jimmy/Timmy Power Hours are /not /canon and will also be ignored.
Another note- an in-depth analysis of every single episode is beyond the scope of this piece and frankly, would be enough to drive a person mad. I assume you've seen the show. You're more than capable of filling in any blanks.
"James. James Neutron."
"Really? You look like more of a Jimmy to me."- Jimmy Neutron and Jet
Fusion, "Operation: Jet Fusion"
Boy genius, with an IQ of 210(a href= "http://www.tvrage.com/Jimmy_Neutron-Boy_Genius" ). Until his move to Retroville prior to Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius (the movie), Cindy Vortex was the smartest girl in town. Yet an offhand
Haiku Theory Part 1 -2009-A Lot of Words About A Little Poem
An Introduction to Haiku Structures
A haiku poem cannot be defined according to the number of syllables and lines it contains (nor by the number of syllables in each line). Although I do not wish to go into the reasons why at this point (I will save that for a later discussion) the form of modern English haiku, as Haruo Shirane writes, is a short poem, usually written in one to three lines. (in Gilbert, 2009) At this point our definition sounds very vague. If the number of syllables and lines do not define a haiku poem, then what does? And if a haiku poem is simply a short one, two or three-line poem then what separates it from other forms of Western short-verse or, in the case of one-line haiku, a sentence?
Patricia Donegan writes, in agreement with the Western haiku community at large, that syllable counting... is not the important thing for haiku in English. Haiku is an experience, not an act of co