We have all had such moments...

... watching the second hand tick second by second.

We can never regain such seconds.

Where all the riches of this world...

Where all the possible achievements from this life...

Where the fruition of all dreams and aspirations...

... are far too short to redeem even one second that now dangerously reside in what one can only call the past.

We live in only one reality...

... the present.

However, I propose...

We exist in memories of the past...

And hopes for the future.

You cannot undo the past.

You can only redo the future.

Pablo Neruda

Sonnet XVII

I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving

but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

February 8th 2009

Public Library

---

Life has a way of telling you things.

Often in subtle ways but very rarely with such audacity.

Palahniuk's Invisible Monsters had been collecting a fair amount of dust on my bookshelf. I had borrowed it among a dozen I intended to devour over the coming month.

Upon flipping the cover I came across this post-it that someone had conveniently placed inside. What was more surprising was the contents of the message on the post-it.

---

They say it takes a minute to meet someone.

An hour to appreciate them.

A day to love them.

But an entire life to forget them.

---

I don't know who you are.

Nor do I really want to know.

I do not know your pain.

I do not not know of your reasons why.

But what I do know is that you have spoken your truth.

You've helped me realize something I should have figured a long time ago.

Not just within the content of that message.

But something more inherent and transparent to all others but me.

Where are you?

The frailty of human interrelations and the sweetness of such finite moments lay as the standard exchange for the privilege of such fleeting emotions in return for a life of regret and unwanted circumstance.

To replay each minute, hour, and day in which we met, appreciated and loved. You say to me it takes an entire life to forget. But I say an entire life is much to short to even begin to comprehend the depths of such exchanges between two that are in love within a single framed moment in time.

We evolve within each other. Sooner than later... we become one.

But here we are.

Apart.

... an entire life to forget them.

Thank you mysterious stranger~

"The brick walls are there for a reason.

They're not there to keep us out.

The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something."

From "The Last Lecture"

Dr. Randy Pausch

(p 51-52)

---

We were sitting on the curb of Ring Road in front of Felicitas. Min Gyu sat there staring at the dark expanse of sky with stars that crowned our heads that night.

I remember telling him about my visit to the Dean of Chemistry that very afternoon. How I would be unable to take Biochemistry 300. How my dreams of becoming a medical doctor were being blocked by this man that would not let me register for this course.

With all the liquid courage he could muster from our imbued beers at Felicitas, he told me that he could see me doing nothing else.

Min Gyu... you stood up as my best friend that night.

I never forgot the lessons I had learned from Biochemistry. The Dean eventually took a chance and let me in. It took a lot of convincing and the spewing of many empty and false promises. But in the end... there was a way.

---

"Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity."

From "The Last Lecture"

Dr. Randy Pausch

---

There is no such thing as "luck".

There is no such thing as "the best thing".

There is only destiny to fulfill.

When you shed enough blood, sweat and tears. The rest will simply follow. Build your foundations in prayer. Buffer your requests with action. Your blood, sweat and tears are the currency with which you pay for the realization of dreams and the fruition of life's possibilities.

How bad do you want it?

How far will you go to achieve your dreams?

---

Be the hopeless romantic.

Sing those obnoxiously optimistic songs.

Smile with reckless abandon for each and every convinction.

Then smile for no reason.

Jump into puddles.

Never just simply put popcorn into your mouth.

Always lob it in.

Fart without abandon or discretion.

Burp like you damn well mean it.

Paint this damn world red.

And weep at its sheer beauty.

Love...

Foolishly lose it.

Then cherish its finite traces in your memory.

Follow your heart.

Strengthen it with your mind.

Then let your soul take you there.

But always remember...

Live hard...

... but dream harder.

l i f e i s w a i t i n g

The beauty of life is only subliminal... for all we seek to find is the irrelevance that is so inherent within what we deem as being truthfully important to the continual existence of our un-important, irrelevant selves. We cannot help our conscious minds and souls because the beautiful things we perceive are in and of themselves... in the end, irrelevant in meeting happiness.

Only the places in our heart that we only know in our deepest and darkest of moments. Where oft moments of horror and despair are the only moments when such things imbued in us see the light of day. Where beauty becomes the unexpected product of such horror and sadness that all we can do is laugh in incredulity.

Often, the worst in this world brings out the best in us.

A underlying naturalistic instinct... where we are taken from daily complexities and returned to our core and defining purposes. What is desire and the progression towards a goal when the end results of such endeavours cannot be enjoyed?

We are often reminded to do and to think in order to ensure the future happiness of our future selves, often through the neglect of who we are at this present moment. But who takes care of who we are right now when we look, work and devote ourselves to the future? When will we free ourselves from the perpeutuity of this cycle we put ourselves through when at the end of each path we ask ourselves "and then what?"

We constantly neglect the here and now... trading in our love for the moment... for moments in the future that may or may never come.

So in light of there being no answer with many different "best" solutions...

"Do not live to seize the day... but cherish it... remember it... embrace it... honor it... in the way that it already is.

For what is life when we live like each day is our last?

h o m e

Your eyes are suddenly open to the road before you now.

You turn your head back to the way you have come,
only to encounter a fog of memories of actions,
in places,
with people,
you cannot recall.

When thinking of the ways you have travelled on this road,
of which the length you cannot foretell.
You have come to realize that you have kept walking,
never resting,
never ceasing.

"I have missed too much" you say out loud.

"You have wasted so much" your mind replies.

"But you're here aren't you?' your heart replies.

Your eyes peer beyond
the seemingly unending horizon before you,

The single,
narrow road
cutting into the heart of the setting sun.

Your ears hear the fullness of the silence that surrounds you,
You smell the brisk cold that is slowly pulling itself up in the air.

There...

...in a life that seemed so full at a particular point in time,
that escapes your memory.





You are alone





But you keep walking





home.

ANY OTHER DAY

Dream... as if you'll live forever,

Live... as if you'll die today.
Like any other day.
Today... like any other day.

Meandering down the same old paths,
routine... it's become.
Every road taken, no mystery unbequenthered upon me.

I remember my parents telling me to pursue my dreams,
when in reality
I became the root of their failure and disappointment.

What can you say to an underachiever?
You'll probably look at him,
shrug your shoulders and hope you never become him.
Yet you are the typical 9 to 5 man.
Punch in, punch out, find love, get married, 1.5 kids.
Die and lie in a frost ridden grave for all eternity...
with worms and all.

It's a beautiful life.

When you're born,
all those around you are smiling,
yet you alone are crying knowing what type of hellhole you've entered.

When you die,
all those around you are crying,
yet you alone smile...
knowing you're going to a better place.

Blood, Sweat, and Tears.
Hope, Faith, and Love.
Love...

To wake up everyday to the smell of her hair,
To hold a smiling child high up in your arms,
To know you are... where you belong.
A home in her wherever you may go,
wherever you may be.

They say love is to be patient,
they say love is to be kind.
But I am none of those things.
It's quite simple really.
She just took my heart...
and refused to let go.

Dream as if you'll live forever.
Live as if you'll die today.
Like any -- other -- day.
Through all the shit.
Live...

... for today.

A NECESSARY DISILLUSIONMENT

There are different reasons why we do different things but a single, converging constant... a well of unintended consequences if you like... appear to us over and over again within the actions of our everyday.

A world without Christ, we would assume and believe, would be a world without purpose.

A world without purpose would only be left to its own devices...

I'm not trying to be overtly essentialistic in saying that the world is some monochromatically divided slide rule of significance and difference... where the acceptable measurement is etched onto the metal slide rule with an exacto knife... that would some how suggest that we would offer up room in our brains to entertain the possibility of rejecting such wonderous complexity. Such rejection, I envision, would lead the earth (panoramic wide screen shot from thousands of miles way) to spontaneously implode, shrink and finally disappear with a neat little beep, almost in a Monty Python cartoon sort of way with old English comedians doing the Mr. Bean murmur in the background.

Ah yes... complexity.

I know complexity like Tom Cruise knows psychology.

How God has blessed us with complexity and the associated difficulties that have arisen due to the aforementioned. Some tools I've known have related such complexity and unpredictableness as being the "spice" of life or "what makes life interesing".

Oh Please... if the events of your life till the day you die were to be magically recorded onto a Palm Pilot calender... and if this PDA were to magically be stored in the top drawer of your desk... would you not be tempted to look at it? I know some of you out there will inevitably turn your selves into tools by answering with such post-modern ramblings akin to the ultimate tool of tools... Foucault. I don't know about you... but if I were to know all the disease and illness of which myself and those close to me were to kick the bucket with... and if I had the power to stop these things by simply looking at this PDA calender... I, and anyone else, would probably do the same. The whole disease thing only be one example of which I assume would be many.

But there are no such PDAs... yet... and until we can do what Dr. Sam Beckett did in the hit TV show, "Quantum Leap"... we are sadly bound by our global society's limited knowledge of advanced quantum physics... for the sake of Elvis and JFK to name a few.

So where's the spice in knowing? The whole point is that we can't water down the kimchi by simply dipping it into a cup full of water. We'll always have to have the spice with our kimchi.

Complexity will undoubtedly remain... that is why we are all doing different things and at different times. How would you know if the world was boring if everything were in fact the same? You wouldn't know... because you can never experience such perfect monotony and sameness... not possible... not even by buddist monks... sleeping positions, and the way the poop lands in the toliet... nothing will be the exact same... ever.

But to contradict myself... again... we often end up, in what we percieve, to be the same place. Why?

... (to be continued... like you care...)

DO YOU DARE QUESTION DESTINY?

I would like to believe that we were all made with a purpose.

That somehow... God knew what he was doing when he pulled out his little vile labeled 'drama', only to commence his liberal use of such an ingredient... James Barber style.

Paul said that we should rejoice in our sufferings. I'm pretty sure he meant that it was through our suffering that we built dependence on him (who is within us). Yet, I have a feeling that there's something more to it. Let me 'read out' of such a passage (as theologians would say) and create some healthy speculation on the topic.

Suffering. What is it? I would define suffering as any physical,psychological, emotional, and/or spiritual distress that is caused by a variety of tangible and untangible objects/processes/situations. Let's go deeper into the definition and try to figure an anti-thesis to such a postulation. Would joy reflect an EXACTLY opposing response or definition to suffering? No... a situation that produces joy would more be in line with suffering. So suffering can be described as a situation... regardless of a macro (societal) or micro (individualistic) interpretation of that particular situation in question.

So back to Paul...

Paul pronounces that suffering should be a positive within our lives... not a negative. I would take this further and suggest that the consequences of the experiences of suffering within that 'condition' of the situation that produced such suffering... is what produces this positive... and not the initial emotive response of suffering.

However, I get a sense of an 'organic' nature to the type of suffering Paul is referring to. This suffering is a deep and heavily personalized type of suffering that cannot be easily negated into the simplistic understandings of what we consider to be... whatever situation we may consider to be worthy to produce a consequence of suffering defined above. Paul's suffering was deeply personal. His suffering was associated with the one thing that could create such deeply rooted heartache and sorrow... God.

Through Paul's suffering... I am reminded of the nature of man... or what I will appeal to as being the 'nature of man' (or whatever else you may define it as). No matter what plateau we may reach... and no matter how high we may climb. No height is great enough to escape the basic human emotions and responses that we programmed within us... by him, who created us.

Yes... we learn something from our suffering. But may I be so bold to say that sometimes... we truly don't want to learn. Sometimes... we want to be left alone in our deep set comfort of simply not seeing the true reality that we ourselves have taken part in constructing. A reality that seeks to... brick by brick... construct a wall that will finally separate our futile human existence from him who was never even close to finishing us when we exited our mother's womb.

We were never completed... and we will never be truly complete if we keep hiding the pieces of ourselves that we love the most from him... pieces of ourselves that desparately need his knowing hands.

We grasp... we pull... and we turn round and round... attempting to never let him in... yearning to retain some illusion of normacy within this world that we desparately want to be a part of.

Knowing all too well that the words we speak with all our hearts... are but a fleeting speck of clay that fly into the face of the potter... a speck he wipes from his face with a cloth that finds moisture from the tears he had shed for his lost.

We hope to find our destiny. But we really hope to mold it for ourselves.

We all want different things... but in the end... we really want the same, little things.




Suffer

... not because you know it's good.

But because...

... you know no other way.

In the not-so-Beginning,

God created Elliot.

And it was not-so-good.

Just simply average.

Then God said,

"Thanks for coming out".

If there ever was a story for each and everyone of us, I'm sure it would beginning in such a manner... in my mind anyway.

Life is filled with twists and turns that seem to meander in every which way. "Some" [fools] claim that this is what makes life that much more exciting. Furthermore, they include that those of us who make it are those that have succeeded in this meritocratic society we have built up for ourselves.

I'm told that humans enjoy "smart and easy".

We are all imperfect because we simply are. When we really really think hard about it... we seem to have created this construct that resembles a normal (bell) curve from which most individuals are in the middle and some lucky or unlucky individuals are on the extremes. What is unimportant is in the information that this curve provides us with, especially in terms of where we stand on this merit based curve. What is important is in the fact that we, as a society, have created our own extremes from which we delineate the excellent-please-lead-us-into-the-future from the horrible-why-where-you-ever-born.

The criteria that is used to delinate these individuals is basically non-existent... by "non-existent" I'm basically saying that the criteria asks all of us to be perfect, something I believe is impossible for most of the time.

We as humans were not made to fail. We simply fail based on a criteria that is based on impossible demands that bases itself in greed... or what we like to call "necessity".

We're all living the "Korean Dream" in certain aspects... or at least striving towards it. All our parents expect great things from us and if they aren't, then they've given up and have accept the incredibly catharic notion that we [their children] will never live up to their standards. Then there's the whole "immigrant family discourse" that encapsulates or blames the failure of their asian children on institutional or systematic racism that they themselves help to perpetuate through using it as an explanation for the shortcomings of their children.

Will we ever stop? No. Why? Cause we're Korean.

I contradict myself... and it feels great.

The simple fact of that matter is... most Koreans that do end up attempting post-secondary education are in the top tier of Canadian and the so-called "global" society. We are given opportunities that some people cannot even dream about in their wildest "girls-gone-wild" dreams. For that matter... we are blessed and at the same time cursed. We are blessed because most of us will not starve; but, then most of us will never be too well off either. We will occupy what academia has labelled as the new-middle class (non-skilled focussed labour such as service jobs). Most of us will most likely work in a field that we didn't even touch upon in undergrad... Why? Because the jobs that we get make the bills go away and that's sufficient for us all.

Do we or will we ever strive to be serious history makers in this land?

Do we go through all this bull just to pay the bills or the mortgage?

Are we willing to give up this security in order to pursue a greater calling?

Or are we simply going to turn our backs to it... and just fake it on like we'll make it every Sunday?

Can we really stop owning our own destiny... and give up our dreams of condos on Robson, 1.5 kids, and a Beemer in the underground parking lot?

Can we give up all those things to God?

I honestly... couldn't tell you. I'm too young. I lack wisdom to even dwell upon such things... and yet I do... and I contradict myself at every turn.

I seek knowledge and wisdom... but will it all stop when the ring goes on the finger and I'm stuck wearing a black tie for the next couple of nine-to-fives for the rest of my life?

This merry-go-round will end eventually... I can feel the music slowing down. The laughter has dissipated a while ago and all that can be heard is the falsity that is so inherent in the music box tune that is twinkling out of the speakers. This moment... will never come again. The false promises this ride brought into my heart were so clear and so fresh in the beginning... yet these emotions have become more and more sparse in occurence as the reality of the situation became clearer... as the world outside of this merry-go-round become more apparent.

The music will eventually stop.

And I will be forced to get off.

It ceases to amaze me... just how humbled I am in the presence of children. When really sifting past the preconcieved image or notion we have regarding our expectation of children we encounter, we find raw passion and drive towards the things that they seek... whatever those things may be. To really see from a child's perspective is to forsake all the "mature" clutter that tends to accumlate in the mind of adults. To sweep away doubts and fears that develop out of actually having something that is valued in one's life and in having something that can be lost, whatever those things may be, is to finally see the situation for what it is. The pure simplicity and the beauty of thinking in such simplistic terms may seem to generalistic and optimistic to many. In adopting a cynical and often pessimistic view of the world may be emotionally adaptive and socially defensive. But nothing can describe the feeling of being free from these things that bind us down in our thoughts, in our ability to express our true emotions, and in our ability to dream in an open field that is free from the chains that this world and this society binds us down with. Finding and developing a passion that is born from a raw and unformed fire that exists within our very hearts... now that's intellectually stimulating. (cue slap bass music) The beauty of childhood we were ambivalent to during our own childhoods... ... to find fruition within our hearts under such harsh and unforgiving conditions that constitute adult life. *sigh*

Faith. Forgetting why something is done in one's own life can be the greatest of all wake-up calls. Upon no-room-for-bull type reflection on the direction one is taking and realizing the hopeless end that it encompasses, any discerning individual will stumble upon the notion of how life has become something that holds no room for faith. Especially with lives that revolve around school... where time is roughly delinated into studying, eating, going to the bathroom, playing, and if time allows it... sleeping. A place in which merit is associated with one's ability to barf out information on a page within a alloted amount of time... and knowing fully well how one must behave in order to get the best results... faith has somehow becomes secondary if not irrelevant. In my opinion, this irrelevance stems from our own inability to TRULY accept the idea that most things, if not all things, are out of our hands. To work within the academic paradigm, the application of simple probability equations will point out how "out of control" we really are. Only through a percieved notion of control that stems from an innate need for control, order, and structure do we put ourselves through all this bull. In equating particular types of highly improbable and unlikely behaviours (studying 12 hours everyday and 3 weeks in advance for a midterm or... *gasp* studying ahead), with success... we percieve control. But reality is reality... and life rarely, if not ever, goes perfectly according to plan. Let's just admit it and get it over with. We really have no control over our lives... we're just tagging along for the ride. In reality, through all the tears and through all the "pain we percieve and feel"... we're simply lying to ourselves due to extremely limited foresight. Maybe this limited foresight, which translates to ignorance in my opinion, maybe a blessing in itself. History and humankind's actions within history as discourse is the prime example of how short-sighted we really are. We all have instances and events in our lives we would like to forget that have stemmed from our own short-sightedness. We claim we cannot predict the future, but when we get to a certain point in our lives and we've lived through enough experiences, we can begin to equate that certain behaviours lead to certain outcomes... and no... lightening will not strike the professor on the way from their office to the classroom and spontaneously combust the freshly photocopied test papers they're carrying. Maybe this bliss-filled hope in imagining the possibility of such events happening is this blessing of short-sightedness. The reality of human action is in the fact that life on this Earth will usually continue with or without us. (Sans nuclear holocaust or some other apocalyptic disaster) Sometimes... it's better not to know then to know it all. It's like the Matrix... in knowing that it's all fake... in knowing that actions and consequences mean pretty much nothing. But then again, how can one argue that our lives are that different. Doesn't reality gain validity when we ourselves attribute such validity to it... regardless of it being real or fake? Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden is similar to this analogy in the sense that they too were ignorant of certain things before gobbling up the fruit... they were "naked" and they didn't know it... As Christian... knowing that there is "life" after this life... how can we hold validity to this life on earth at all... when it parallels the notion of life on earth being a constructed existence apart from the real life that awaits us after we croak. Do we validate life through the simple fact of short-sightedness and by being preoccupied through such trivially insignificant matters in our daily lives? Then again... why didn't God put us in "heaven" in the first place? For our own good... no matter how you define "good"... we need faith. Through our limitations that we percieve compared to some unreachable ideal, we will never be what we define as being "perfect". The whole notion of a happy and good life is lost on God... we will never be that comfortable and we really never are. In reality... we are in desperate need of him because he brings validity into this life that is fake and irrelevant to the core. Like living within the Matrix... we are ignorantly content in living out lives that hold worth measured on insignificant and invalid measures that should ultimately be rejected because they simply perpetuate negative human interaction and the idea of a worthless existence. In the simple notion of not choosing to believe that there is someone out there... we are in essence, rejecting the fundamental law of existence in itself because in order to be something, we must first come from something... and knowing that all "somethings" are subjectively defined... no truly objective measure of reality will ever exist as long as we reject the concept of faith. Because it is in faith we are able to accept everything as it is, and not as it should be.

I want to be your hands.

I want to be your feet.

I'll go where you send me,

go where you send me.

The days can go by pretty quick and then suddenly it hits you like bird poop falling from the trees.

Fear

Many older individuals that I have talked to during my childhood have claimed that such fear that tends to arise in your heart is normal. They keep clamouring on about how you have to do this and that and be this and that... when at that age all you want is a damn Super Nintendo for Christmas. The memories of being given "the lecture" on how to be successful in life by Korean adults other than my parents remain all too clear in my mind.

But as I "grow older" (my older sis would laugh at this cause to her I'll always be that little irresponsible brother asking for money... which I still am, thank you very much), I've caught myself on more than one occassion... saying the exact words that these Korean adults preached into my little ears many years ago.

Upon reaching an end (graduating), I've figured out that... there really isn't a "cathartic end" that we all envision or even expect in our hearts and minds. That this "future" we keep talking about is really simply about the here and now. Relativity... what we do, we will eventually become.

So what exactly is this dark and wretched mystery that dwells within my heart? Uncertainty is only the absence of a self-fulfilling propechy... the Lord may have made, but also guides us towards a particular destination. So in placing greater emphasis on the journey or the destination is useless because both matter equally.

Let me explain.

Upon reaching a destination... we never really stay very long do we? And while in constant movement toward such destination... an action we like to romanticize by calling it "a journey", we never really remember very much or derive all that much from them... when you really, really, really, really think about it... it is our placement of importance that becomes encapsulated into words such as "journey" or "destination".

Generalizations drawing from subjective and abstract experiences you say?

Sure. So what?

It doesn't matter how you really get there... the road you take... or where you're really going in the first place. We take the road because in the end... we choose to. We arrive because we choose to. Therein the power of human existence... the ability to choose by the grace of God.

Choice.

If you've ever guessed on multiple choice questions and expected to get answers correct... you'll probably find that you'll get most of the answers you guessed marked as being incorrect.

Maybe... just maybe... we make the wrong choices for the right reasons.

An intriguing oxymoron n'est pas?

We choose in life... most often never knowing what lies behind such doors of choice. Usually making all the wrong choices... and once in a while making the right one.

What the hell is it all for anyway... when even after all the choices have been made and forgotten

...you're left with fear in your heart and pain to pay for a failure in something not even real.

Bad things happen to good people.

...and in many cases... we cannot even begin to comprehend why an all powerful God... like my God would allow such things to occur in the first place.

The problem of evil... in being the crux of the argument made against the simple presence or existence of God presents many doubts in the minds of many.

The problem with such an argument is in making the assumption that God would follow the human construct of logic and common sense. If such an imagined condition within a predetermined set of principles and guidelines were assumed to reign in all the universe... the simple existence of humanity itself and the world would be invalid. How can the human definition of meaning and worth be ascribed to such a empty argument of human existence stemming from the condensation and explosion of matter at one point in time. Ascribing faith... faith... in an unimaginable probability of certain forces coming together at the right place at the right time... to create a world... a society...a culture... families... mothers... fathers... sons... daughters. To encapsulate the human experience within such cold and imagined boundaries is simply... in my mind... bullshit.

We have been given what we have. The right to claiming the apocryhal nature of intelligent design is valid; however, subjegating this notion into the realm of falsity is not. Every scientific construct, principle, theory, hypothesis, or question must be taken with a grain of faith... no matter how small. Twenty years ago, our image of the cell membrane was vastly different from the picture we have drawn today. If we cannot even concretely understand the basic unit of our own bodies... how can we even begin to extend these accusations upon things that stem outside of our bodies. Even if we question the existence of reality outside of our own subjective experience... how can we so wholeheartedly deny even the possibility in someone greater than ourselves? Are we so "intellectually" bloated to the point of constantly denying the existence of something greater than ourselves? We believe that science can solve everything... and if given enough time, effort, and money... maybe it can. But if science is given the faith that it gets... without question... then the existence of this God... my God... deserves some faith too.

... so yes... shit happens

Is there always a reason? I honestly cannot tell you.

What do you tell an individual who is at risk of losing a loved one to a potentially terminal disease? Do you tell them that whatever happens... it was God's will all along?

What do you tell a couple who have just recently lost a baby? Do you tell them that the child has gone to happy-land and is frolicking in the right hand of God?

What do you tell the individual who has strived to evoke change in this world... to make this place better... only to be denied any opportunity... and be shunned from a society that neither appreciates his or her effort... or heart.

No one... and I mean no one... can truly answer these questions with the cold, presumed objectivity of a scientist or a psychologist for that matter.

Do we only feel hope because it's an evolutionary adaptation that induces greater fitness through increasing the will to live? Do we continue to live only because we hope and pray for a better day to come when... no such day will come?

Can you look into the eyes of any individual and truly tell them... with all your heart and soul... that... for at least this moment in time... and in this place... maybe... just maybe... we have to stop trusting what human logic and intelligence tells us... and to follow something that cannot be ascribed in such words as these... that to have hope... faith... and love... maybe the only way?

the leaves have yet to fall but the clouds are readily rolling in

to this island that i choose to spend this portion of my life on.

my perception and from what i expect to be the perceptions of most people

tell me that when the leaves start falling

hearts start breaking

in remembrance of what once was

or what could have been.

many people around me seem to be hurtin' in secret.

one can see such pain from the quick looks they give to couples

these looks filled with memories of pain or happiness

maybe even memories that hold absolutely no relevance

and simple reproductions of their imaginations of reality and society in general.

maybe these looks are filled with thoughts of great violence

huge skyscraper sized leaves falling onto these amour-filled couples as they walk

down with their once comfortable stomaches filled with oven heated pie slices

and extra hot-non fat-soy-no foam-green tea-matcha-strawberry avocado cream-mocha-

latte frappacino.

walking down a road that cannot be seen

completely covered with fallen leaves

the rain will begin to fall

the cold will embrace the wind

flakes can then have their turn

to turn this world in

to an unrecognizable place.

where imagination becomes

and reality begins.

With all that goes on around us. With all the things that we attribute as the "background music" of our lives. The "business" of life can be an intriguing thing.

We tend to compartmentalize and organize certain aspects within our lives in tiny set pieces. Each piece represents a certain response we make and the combination of these pieces create a mosaic that sees fruition through our response.

Therein comes the lovely and somewhat beautiful masks we construct for ourselves. Each serves a different purpose entirely... ranging from the "family" mask, the "church" mask, and the lovely "gonna get wasted" mask. Our "multifaceted" personality encompasses all these masks and yet we still search for something that truly represents our own true being... taking into consideration whether or not such a thing in fact exists at all.

What does it really mean to be "real" anyway? Wouldn't being real be defined as something as simple as just presenting one mask on a consistent basis? Are we really brave enough to let go of something that has served as our consistent defense mechanism to this often confusing world which none of us really understand in the first place?

Hence, we attribute a sense of business professionalism to every aspect of our being entrenched in the "nails down the chalkboard" experience that is life. In work and even in play... we never really seem to lose them. I guess social norms and expectations are somewhat to blame... our constant conformation to jump through enough hoops to take our fair slice of the meritocratic pie that lies on the ever so proverbial "window sill" of success.

... so what can one really do?

To love is to surrender. To understand is to destroy mystery. To know is to give up innocence. To be is to stay in one mode of existence. To forgive is to forget retribution. To listen is to lose voice. To live is to die To die is to live To trust is to risk To risk is to expose To expose is to be weak ... but to be weak is to surrender. To surrender everything... is to truly love.

                                                     there is no           
                                                                      best



                                                                               only destiny                                                                                          
                                                                                            to fulfill

MP3 players have become the bain of music. Long gone are the days when music used to be something exclusive and something of worth and value. I remember days when I could actually stand listening to a song over and over again. I remember such low tech days in which I would record the same song over and over again on tape due to lack of a "repeat" function on walkmans. The advent of the internet, mp3, and file sharing for that matter has diluted the novelty that has surrounded music that I fondly remember many moons ago. Gone are the days in which one would borrow a CD or tape from a friend and record them onto a tape so that it could be listened to on a stereo in the bedroom or car. Now... I can hardly stand listen through a whole song on my iPod. Listen to the intro... flip... next song. Over and over again. Technology has spoiled me, and I have lost... in part... my pure appreciation of good music. Don't get me wrong here... I heart my iPod... it's one of the greatest gifts you can give a person... the gift of music.... whoa... that sounded like some corporate endorsement... Anyhoo... where was I... ah yes. Yes, I acknowledge that it's good that we're stickin' it to the record labels... and I think these labels are taking the WRONG route to the solution. They must somehow bring back that "special something" back into music... stop concentrating so much on profits and numbers, and FIND... not produce... music that can be enjoyed by all... hmm... I'm not making much sense here. IGNORE THE LAST PARAGRAPH. When I think of tapes... it simply brings me back to my childhood. Memories of dancing to the Ghostbusters soundtrack in the basement of Cecilia and Emily's house back in the day. My first walkman... an Aiwa with an external speaker that my parents got me from LA. How the music starts to slow down when the batteries on the walkman start dying out. The R & B mixtape I made with Boyz II Men and Mariah Carey. Who could forget the Seo Taiji and Boys tape that I sang along to without having a CLUE as to what they were saying. (Only now do I fully understand what they were talking about.) Even though technology gives us more freedoms... it really can be a killjoy.