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.