Brains!

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My blog could be considered a dangerous thing. I don't think it is. Everything I write is completely honest. Some posts are commentary, some posts are stories, some are boring, some are fun. Most often it's a window into the part of my subconscious that cannot be communicated verbally. It's meant to be the place I spill, organize and store my abstract hidden things. You can really access a lot about me through the blog, and it's partially there for that purpose. To find out the things I cannot say, and don't necessarily need to be said. But its also a tool for me, the process of writing/blogging is therapy in some sense. However, there's a lot missing. To read it, and to think that it is all of me, would be very wrong. That's why it can be misleading. A lot of people read it, and they misinterpret. No one really knows what I actually mean by a lot of the things I say, and that's not my problem. Like I said, its only there partially for the purpose of letting people into that part of me, the rest is there for me, for my subconscious to come out. To take it literally would be a dangerous thing for the reader.

Important Pieces

In that space where infinity above meets immensity below we see the first sign of a new dawn. Dark always gives way to light; for a brief moment nothing is forbidden, everything is possible. But what would we do if the light never came? Maybe we would lie down. Maybe we could go back to sleep. Maybe we could wake up. - Adbusters

The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere; they’re in each other all along. - Jelaluddin Rumi (1207-1273)

Adopt the pace of nature: Her secret is patience. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

"The poet Rilke was afraid that if he got rid of his demons, he would lose his angels as well. Of course the danger of clinging to our demons to save our angels is that our demons may well take over." - Tim Farrington

Amnesia is not knowing who one is and wanting desperately to find out. Euphoria is not knowing who one is and not caring. Ecstasy is knowing exactly who one is-and still not caring.
- Tom Robbins

Randomness from the two weeks I have been home and graduated:

It’s weird how it’s been so long that you forget certain things. That there were things you lived for once, but don’t even recognize anymore.
I keep wondering if I’m just playing games. And I keep slapping myself for doing so.
I can’t sleep. On nights that I am alone in my bed, I lay awake for hours. But I capture hints of a good kind of smell in my sheets.
I’m asleep inside.
I find I don’t really miss Humboldt, but it hasn’t hit me yet perhaps. Maybe one day I’ll want it.
I’m never going to go on a travel adventure…
I’ve been contemplating nihilism recently.
In the end the key dictator will always be money, and I hate it, and it’s only going to get worse.
Will value and direction, routine and accomplishments help me to wake up?
Is everyday for the rest of my life going to be like this one?
LA was supposed to rescue me.
What the hell was I doing the past four years, because it feels like nothing.
I’m permanently here until ______.
What is going to happen?

This Blog

Important Pieces

Monday, June 2, 2008

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