Letter to a friend

Without her, I should dwell in darkness.
Our kisses are to me the sun, the moon, and the stars,
for they are my light.

Yet they are not the only illumination she gives to me.
Even if our lips should never meet again, the memories of her smile,
and the words that she has given me shine like a lighthouse on an unfriendly shore; their light guiding my mind back to the happiness which only she begets.

Her mind glows, bathing mine in the light of wonder,
and she is my muse, for my art flows forth from the wonder that she is.

How can I say this? How can she be so perfect?
I know not. I know only that I love her.

Her name? Emily. Though I’ve known her for but fleeting moments, she has filled me with gladness, and gladly would I trade the world for but moments more with her.

In truth,

Random

Writing for Writing's Sake

Also known as sanity scribbling. Frustration waxes full in my heart. Why do I feel so impotent in a life where i theoretically have complete control? Why do I feel unseen on a campus thirty five thousand strong in broad daylight? What's the point. Why do I feel I learned more from an hour in the library at age eleven than from seventeen credit hours over the last half semester? Where did my focus go? SQUIRREL!


Glad that's out of the way. Now that I'm done whining, maybe I can say something interesting. Probably not though. You see, to say something interesting, you have to know something interesting, or you have to be very lucky. Luck has rarely been lacking in my life, though lately I feel myself straining the limits of my good fortune. So I can't rely on luck.


That leaves knowledge. I used to think I had lots of knowledge. But I learned a little more and realized I had almost none. The joys of a larger pond. I suppose my brain is trying to point me to something bigger here. How does that quote go? "Wisdom comes only from knowing that you know nothing." Something like that.

No luck, no knowledge. That must translate to nothing interesting to say, right?

Wrong. You see, if we, as human beings who are "Wise" realize that we know nothing, then everything interesting we've ever done or said was entirely through luck. And looking at it that way, each person in the world has been pretty lucky at least once right?


Now, looking at people who say interesting things the most often, what do you think of? I know a few categories. But what comes to you? If the categories you came up with match mine, then maybe we could be said to make our own luck. Expand your mind. Absorb something. Then next time we talk, you'll have better luck holding up your end of the conversation.

--Random

Why Reprise, with original comments

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Why, Why, Why?

 Once in a great while there are philosophical questions that grate at me until I find a way to answer them. Those questions range in type and depth, composition and importance, but they all deal with how I live my life. 

 The current occasion was based around this: “Why do I so desperately want to see, hear, and feel women in a way that society has deemed taboo?”

 Loosely translated into everyday speech, that boils down to, “Why am I a horndog?”

 I pondered this deeply for quite a while actually, and then I found an answer quite unexpectedly while showering after the state golf tournament. It isn’t about sex, it’s about sensation.

 Last year, I allowed myself to think that the entirety of a relationship could be based on the desire to interact on a physical, sexual level. I thought that you could somehow allow only your hormonal desire to engage in the acts necessary for procreation to drive how you interacted with one person of the opposite gender. That cost me a lot, possibly more than I realize.

 Since I realized that such an outlook was pure foolishness, I felt a distinct difference in my desires. I no longer looked at every woman as a target to be hit; yet my urges to strip away clothing, to touch, to taste, to hear, to smell, and to see women did not go away. They were still there, just as strong as ever.

 I began to wonder. Why did the desire to engage in intercourse vanish, while the others stayed on? Why is it that I’m still horny?

 There are two answers to that particular query. One is that even though my brain has realized that fornication is not really a good thing at this point, my hormones still think it’s a really awesome activity. That explanation may be completely accurate, but I’m not overly fond of it, as it portrays me as the slave of chemical reactions over which I have little or no control.

 The second answer is much romanticized, and perhaps that is why I prefer it. In any case, as a list, here it goes:

1. Seeing a woman out of her clothes isn’t about getting her naked. It’s about seeing her as she was made; perfect and beautiful with nothing hiding it.
2. Touching her isn’t getting to a certain base so you can brag to your friends. It’s feeling the subtle textures and curves of one of the greatest sculptures ever made.
3. Taste and scent are the two senses that most strongly stimulate our memory. When you see, touch, or hear something so perfect, wouldn’t you want to be able to recall it?
4. Hearing her may not make sense, but trust me, it’s profound. Listen to her voice, hear the rhythm of her heart and the rush of her breathing, then try to tell me that listening to her doesn’t do anything to you. 

 So there it is. Why I think I want to do the things I want to do. Maybe it makes sense, maybe it doesn’t. Maybe other guys will think it’s ridiculous, maybe it will cause them to have a revelation. That isn’t really the point. This was a thought in my head, and I felt like it needed to be shared. Maybe next time you have a deep thought, instead of shrugging it off, you should write it down.

Posted by Zarathustra2.0 at 8:11 PM

Recommend this on Google

5 comments:

1. 
   Elizabeth PerryMay 16, 2012 3:30 PM
   Random,
   
   I do not appreciate this blog, there are just some things you should keep to yourself but that is just my opinion. I think that you wouldn't be such a "horn dog" if you saw women as more than just a sexual object and saw them as human beings. Maybe you should work on that. (That just needed to be said)
   With Love,
   Elizabeth Perry
   ReplyDelete
   Replies

1. 
   Zarathustra2.0May 16, 2012 3:59 PM
   Elizabeth,
   
   If you followed the link from facebook, you were warned of the possibility of offense. If you came from your own Blogger account, then I'm sorry that I did not include a warning for you there. As you did read and were offended however, I suppose that I ought to respond with some defense of myself and my publication. First of all, I don't view any woman as "just a sexual object." They aren't something to be conquered or tamed. As I've already said, they aren't targets to be hit. Furthermore, this was not a commentary on women, this was a commentary on myself. By no means should anything in this post be interpreted to mean that I do not have the utmost respect for women as human beings. Still, I suppose there is always room for improvement, so I will keep working on it.
   With hope,
   Random Skevington
   Delete
   
   
2. 
   Reply
   

1. 
   
   
   
2. 
   Zarathustra2.0May 16, 2012 4:09 PM
   P.S. I rather liked your comment before you edited out the part about my ego. It is rather large and I am trying to work on that.
   ReplyDelete
   
   
3. 
   Elizabeth PerryMay 16, 2012 11:03 PM
   Sometimes we don't mean for our words to come across a certain way, but they do anyway. Even though it wasn't your intention, this post derogatory and objectifying towards women. I am not offended, I am disgusted; some things should be kept to yourself and this is one of those things.
   ReplyDelete
   
   
4. 
   Zarathustra2.0May 17, 2012 7:09 AM
   Thank you for offering your opinion; just so you know, you're missing a word. I wouldn't have minded if you'd kept the whole opinion to yourself, but keeping just one word to yourself is rather ridiculous :) Enjoy your day.
   ReplyDelete

Save Tonight

Time marches on. It carries us onward with little thought for our desires and our fears, our dreams or our minute lives. As it moves, it forces us to move with it, regardless of how much we might want to be left behind. Yet every now and again, there is a moment so perfect that time seems to stop, or at least slow down, out of respect.

Such moments are incredibly rare, and if you’ve experienced one, then you are indeed blessed. If you haven’t, it’s important to remember that every moment is special, even if it isn’t perfect. Perhaps of greater consequence than the uniqueness of each moment, is the fact that every moment is precious. Regardless of whether we will remember it fondly or foully, what matters is that we will remember it. 

Our life spirals around, from the place where we are born, all the way in to where Death carries us from the world. This echoes the only Keynesian principle that I agree with, “In the long run, we’re all dead.” We are born, we will die. So what really matters is the things which come in between.

Whether it is the crescent shadows cast by a solar eclipse or the rushing headlights of Anaheim at ten o’clock at night, the moments you share with others will be how they catalog you. In turn, the instants which pass between you will be how you remember them.

As we grow, we have moments that we share with no one else. Oftentimes, it is because we are alone. Occasionally, it is because we withdraw our minds from those around us while we think deep thoughts. There is another kind of unshared moment, perhaps the most painful, but I think I’ll omit it for the sake of brevity.

In any case, these moments, shared or not, are the sum of our existence. Without regard for what happens in it, cherish each moment, because it’s a great time to be alive. Remember the instants, lest you forget yourself. And most importantly, save tonight, so that you’ll always know how precious your moments are.


--Random

Exceptions and Economics

Today, I was taken by surprise when I was accused of refusing to be exceptional at anything. I’ll admit, I was shocked, even speechless. At the time, I had no comeback, no retort, I couldn’t even bring myself to reply at all. So I just thought. I sat down and thought about what it meant, to refuse to be exceptional. I thought about what I have been doing, and what I plan to do, and many other things...

And I came up with an answer.

At first, it didn’t make sense, but the more I thought about it, the simpler it became. It all boiled down to economics (thank you, Mr. Peterson). I am good at many things. Singing, swimming, golfing, dancing, writing, math, science, you name it; I’m probably at least halfway decent. My issue is this. How do I choose to specialize. Where do I determine my absolute advantage.

And then I had a revelation. Sometimes, economics can’t explain everything (sorry, Mr. Peterson). Because when it comes to the things that I enjoy, there is no comparative advantage. I can’t let someone else dance for me, or swim for me, or write, or do my math for me. Those things can’t be traded away because they are part of my experience. I have to live for myself, in all areas, because a life isn’t something that can be broken down and traded around.

So, I suppose you’re looking for something more. Maybe you want deeper meaning than ‘live for yourself.’ I’m sorry. I don’t have it. I’ve run out of wisdom to dispense. It’s all I can do to keep my own life in line. Maybe I’m not cut out to be a sage after all.

Catch you on the flipside,

--Random

Light Rambler

I find myself without any grand lesson to leave you with in this blog, so I’m just going to ramble for a while. Perhaps my ramblings will inspire me. Failing that, they might inspire you.

I just finished watching tron Legacy. It is quite an enjoyable movie, albeit not an incredible work of cinema. It also contains some quite fascinating lessons.

“Perfection is Unknowable. It’s impossible and yet it’s right there in front of us all the time.” -Kevin Flynn-

We spend each day of our lives just getting by. We long for an answer to each of our questions, even when those questions aren’t fully formed yet. Our shortcomings aren’t defined by what we cannot do. Rather, they are defined by all the things that we chose to do poorly or not at all.

Perfection doesn’t seek us out. We actively seek it, and it flees from us. As we chase after perfection, our clumsy steps destroy tiny bits of perfect with every footfall. Perfect doesn’t come from being well organized. It’s not a matter of reaching maximum potential. 

Perfection isn’t a constant. Just when we think we’ve reached it, it will change again. That’s why we aren’t perfect, and why we never will be.

Now that my little rant on perfection is over, I think I’ll start in on heroes.

Tron LEgacy has Three main Protagonists: Kevin Flynn, Sam Flynn, And Quorra. Each have distinct traits, and all are working toward a common goal. Yet none of them is really a hero. Sam does what he does because his father never came home. Quorra is the last of her race, alone and hunted in a world that should have been her safe haven. And Kevin, he lives in fear. Fear that his actions will allow his creations to destroy the world, fear that he will lose the love of his son, fear that Quorra, a wondrous being, will be destroyed because of something he did.

Interestingly enough, among these non-heroic protagonists, there is a hidden protagonist: Tron. Though he spends most of the film as a brain-washed baddie, Tron comes to his senses at the end of the film and realizes that he has become something he never should have been.

After that realization, Tron picks up where he left off in the first film, fighting for a cause, a belief. Even when he is alone in his belief he fights on. That is what a true hero does. The story may not revolve around the heroes, nevertheless, they are there. 

In our world too heroes go without their due recognition. Our stories don’t revolve around the people who fight for what they believe in. They revolve around people who fight for money. They closely follow people who’s only skill set involves getting fall-down drunk and not falling down.

Our media chases sensations. They look for perfect stories. Maybe they need to look right at their feet, perhaps perfection is right in front of them. Perhaps it’s in the real heroes out there who do what is right, regardless of the attention they receive. 

Let's take a Walk

Note, this is a mental exercise, and you should not try to actually take this walk. All of this can be accomplished while you are sitting in front of your computer. 

Let’s take a walk. Don’t worry, it won’t take long. You won’t even have to leave your chair. Just relax and follow instructions.

Release all the tension from your body. Drive it out with deep breaths and forceful exhalation. Let your mind wander and expand while you do this. when your mind feels very large, try to push it out of yourself. See if you can make it stand alone, outside of your body.

If you couldn’t do this, you won’t be able to walk with me, but maybe you should keep reading anyway. Who knows? You might learn something. But if you aren’t walking, I’m no longer talking directly to you.

Now that you’re standing outside of yourself, we can start walking. Walk your mind out of your home, and get to the street you live on. If that will take some time, it’s ok. We’ll all wait for you.

Are you at the street? Ok. Take a left, then take the next right. now just walk straight. Feel your steps growing larger with each foot fall. Let your imaginary legs stretch out until you are so massive that you are stepping over two story buildings with every stride. Then grow some more, till you are as tall as the Empire State Building. Just  keep walking. Now your steps are so large that they’ll take you anywhere. 

Walk into the countryside. See all of the fields of crops, see the farmers tending them. Now step further from the city. Step onto the Navajo Reservation. See the desolate beauty of the mesas and the buttes. Absorb the wonder of the huge open space.

Now walk to New York City. Let your ethereal steps walk you right into the skyline, and lean on the Empire State Building as you look at all of the people working their way through the Big Apple. See the pain and the joy, the beating lives of nine million human beings.

Let’s leave the U.S. now. Stroll down into Mexico. See what you can see on your way by. Walk down the Isthmus, and don’t trip on the Panama Canal as you get down to South America. Walk down one coast and up the other. Stroll through the heart of the Amazon if you like.

Cross the Pacific, and take a look at the Sydney Opera House. Walk North to China. Visit Japan. Watch out for mines as you tiptoe through the Middle East.

See Europe in an hour, walk down into Africa. See all the people of the Earth and hear all the languages of Babel. Walk up on Mt. Kilimanjaro and look down at the Serengeti. Let yourself shrink down to a natural size again, and jump from the peak. Fall back into your shell, resting at the computer screen. Open your eyes. Now be honest. How many victims did you see on your journey? How many starving children? How many homeless veterans? How many people who couldn’t pay the rent and moved back in with their parents? Did you even see any of them, or did you just go on the walk to see the sights?

The point is this. We imagine the world as we’d like to see it. We don’t want to go to Africa and see civil wars raging in the jungles. We don’t want to see absolute poverty consuming lives all over the globe. The problem is that those things are real. They exist and they are everywhere. We can’t ignore them. We need to open our eyes to the realities of our world. To the beauty and the atrocity. Are you willing to do so? Are you ready?