No flowers yet, not at the start
But here for you instead lies in
Written words, orange origami hearts
A hope to better days as this one begins
No flowers yet, not at the start
But here for you instead lies in
Written words, orange origami hearts
A hope to better days as this one begins
There it was again.
The shiver down his spine, the chill that wades through his body. His posture flows upright and his attention is immediately directed away from the keyboard with raised keys. The ones that seem to only be in offices and retail stores now, slim keys are the demand in these modern times. Everything has to be slim, but he liked the raised keys. The sound they made as he typed names, numbers, and dollars into corporate oblivion; but, there it was again.
It’s as though he is unconsciously awaiting it. He is half deaf and without the help of modern technology’s advanced hearing aids, everyone told him he needed them, but he had no money for them and he could hear well enough. Well enough to pick her voice up among the chaos and collected sounds that filled the building. It was soft, but subtle; quiet, yet eager. It pulled him out of the chaos and, in an instant, to her eyes. And there it was again.
He looked to her swiftly and without thought. As if she could override everything in his mind, and make everything he was doing for her. His attention immediately became her’s; the whole affair reminded him of a siren. If she had called him to her, he would go to her without question. But not as a fool, he knew her voice lead not to a watery death, but rather it gave a warmth in his soul and comfort in his thoughts. She was beautiful. God, there it was again.
Her eyes; they pierced through everything in their path, they grabbed him and never let go. Complemented by her beautiful, dark, flowing hair, her eyes were the strongest and most alluring eyes he had ever seen. He prided himself in his own steel eyes, but his eyes played right into the grasp her eyes held, and they held far more than just his attention; they showed her personality as an artist might display a masterpiece. Her eyes made him feel as though he already knew her. Although it wasn’t her eyes alone that made him so curious to know who this Angel really was, to know wh— Oh… There it is again.
She smiled. She smiled at him. She called to him in the mist of chaos, while he assisted a gentleman, or a lady, or perhaps a child, to draw him away from it all and give him a smile. And he smiled back, but inside his heart raced and his mind eased into a spiraling cascade of thoughts; he wondered if he just read those kind offers wrong, if they might have just been formal greetings or were they invitations to discover who this Angel was, he wondered if she thought of him as fondly as he thought of her. She gave him a smile, a moment of happiness and he wondered if she realized that it was the happiest moment of his day. And there she went again, to home, to the city, and to his dreams.
He stood still; still comprehending the moment, still deciding what it was she was conveying in all those times she had given him those treasured smiles. The gentleman, or lady, or child demanded his attention back and he reluctantly gave it to them; however, this time he decided. He decided to discover and know who she was and if those brief, heartfelt smiles were really for him.
Now he knows what it was, and now it’s more. Her smile, her eyes, and her touch; they make every day more beautiful, more wondrous. And now he can only imagine what he’ll discover about his unique and beautiful Angel next.
It’s been made clear to me, the universe will not remember us unless we control the universe. The craziest part about this is that we have the potential to do so. We just have to hope we are lucky enough to have the chance. However, even if we evolve and become the dictators of the known universe, the Earth will not be remembered in the way it is now. It will be billions of years before we control the universe and we will not be the same. The Earth will likely be remembered in respect of being our beginning, but it will evolve into a cold lifeless rock. A shadow of it’s current age. Our sun will die. The solar system will not be what it is now and our galaxy will collide with the Andromeda galaxy, forming a new night sky. We will find life and maybe even nurture it, become it’s companions, or their enemies. There are more stars in the universe than there are grains of sand on the entire Earth. It will be billions, upon billions of years before we can hope to explore it all. And there’s no doubt in my mind that there will be all varieties of life we could have never dreamed existed.
So what does that mean?
It means unless our generation discovers or helps progress a means to get humans out of our solar system, or even to another planet and inhabit it, we will be forgotten.
We as entire generation will have never meant a thing.
Do not fool yourselves, there’s is nothing that bothers a human being, never the less, an entire generation of them, more than the idea to be wiped from the history of our own people.
So what do we do?
Nothing. Because there’s nothing we can do. This cannot and will not have any hope of occurring until we dismiss our own needs and desires as an individuals and unite as entire species for the needs and desire of the human race. And that is control and understanding. As a species there is nothing more we desire more than control and understanding of every single tiny thing. And we will one day have it, if we have our chance.
We live in an age where the individual is more important than the species. We have the ability to think this way because we are not threatened. We are the dominant species of Earth and until that is threatened we will never come together as a united species.
This could mean a number of things, but what matters is that we have to hope we’ll be lucky as we have been. To feel threatened, we have to feel pain and to feel pain as an entire species means many people will have to die from a direct force. Perhaps the sun, but if another intelligent life form kill many people, even wiped us out to the brink of extinction, we will have our reason to move from Earth and think as a united species. We are ignorant and we will not be moved from our habits, hatred towards another, and lack of inspiration until we eliminate them in the shadow of a need to save ourselves in an immediate danger, because, sadly, we cannot seem to think ahead.
This isn’t a depressing thought. The idea that nothing we do will matter to history, because if it is never remembered by the universe, than it is all the more important to ourselves to experience everything before we close our eyes for the last time. We only have so long to be loved, to be happy, and to make mistakes. So do it. Do everything even if you think you can’t, just fucking do it, because who cares if you mess up a hundred times and never meet the expectations of others. They will soon die and no one will remember the mistakes, so live while you still breathe.
Nothing we do will matter to our species when they control everything, so do what matters to you and let the everyone think what they want. Their thoughts will be forgotten.
Chaos is a perfect and beautiful thing.
I hold my arm out the window as I drive because the air between my fingers is the closest feeling I can get to flying.
I dance when no one is looking because it makes me confident.
I dance when everyone is looking because I feel confident.
Stars and relationships are one in the same, distance makes them hard to see, but in the darkest of times they shine brightest.
My parallel universes are better and worst than my own, so I am a perfect medium.
I sit under the water, with my all senses consumed completely by the water’s traits; under the water is my most peaceful state.
I concentrate to move an object with my mind, because if I could you’d want to too.
Some say the ocean is the final fontier, I think they don’t see beyond our moon, because we could explore all of our oceans and only explore a speck of the universe in that same time. Just saying.
I sometimes catch a familar scent and I’m convinced someone important to me passed by, and I (miss)ed them.
When I hear that song I relive that night all over again and think of what I might have done differently.
The definition of love is different for everyone, and so all is love.
I pretend to talk on the phone when I don’t want to talk to someone near me.
I pretend to talk on the phone when I want to talk to someone near me that I like, but I don’t know what to say to them yet.
I value honesty, but I lie because I value sanity too.
Someone said if everyone was naked men wouldn’t care about boobies, but I still would. (I love boobies, and it’s because I care.)
I climb trees because I hope you might join me.
Some girls think they’re not pretty when they are, those girls need to shut the fuck up. (Pardon my language.)
Some girls know they’re pretty and take advantage of that, I wish those girls had their face broke for every heart they broke.
Any girls who read those last two know which one they are, and while they’re laughing about it, I think they hurt on the inside.
Art and science are one the same, just different parts of the brain.
I live because I learn and i’d live forever, but I want to die because I want to learn what death entails.
Fear is a weakness, but if we had nothing to fear would we be strong as could be or is overcoming our fears that which makes us strong as we can be?
I love getting goosebumps when I hear a certain song.
The Truman Show is my favorite movie because it made me change how I act when I’m alone forever.
I sing when I’m alone and I think I sing well, I just don’t yet know how to go about showing other people.
Everyone is insane in their own way, those who understand and accept their insanity are the most sane of all.
Gay marriage needs to be legalize because they deserve it and it’s probably an effective means of much needed population control.
Technology is moving too fast. No. Technology still has a long way to go, but keep up the good work thus far.
People say I’m too nice, maybe sometimes, but mostly people are afraid to be as nice as I am.
I sit in the bathroom for a long time because it’s the most privacy I get anywhere. (Sometimes I need to be alone.)
A girl’s first touch against my skin is like a virus; it can spread and consume me in splendor or it’s rejection can make me sick to my stomach. (Sometimes I need to be alone with you.)
No one is perfect, and when you really and truly understand that, you can understand almost anything.
I wrote these because I couldn’t sleep, but when I finally could sleep I cloudn’t because if I did I might not wake up when I’m suppose to.
I wrote these because they’re my truths in life, and there’s the off chance they might be truths you live by too.
I wrote these so you might love me more.
I wrote these so you might get to know me more.
I wrote these so you might know me.
I wrote these because I can.
It’s true with anyone, there are some things we forget we enjoy until we find it again. For example, tonight I decided to listen to the Cary Brothers album, Who You Are and I missed it. It’s a wonderful album and I was wondering why I let it just sit and collect dust. I realized it’s only natural to do so. We don’t purposefully ever forget things we like, but rather replace them with other new found things we enjoy. I suppose that sounds sad, but I disagree. I was excited to listen to the album again, to relive the experience as one might say. By forgetting something I liked and discovering new things I like I was able to come back to it and remember what makes it special and enjoyable again. I’m glad we can cycle through what makes life wonderful. So, we may not pay attention to things we like or even love at all times, but it doesn’t mean we don’t love them. Maybe we want to rediscover them again?
On that note, I decided I really want to write again. Not this kind of writing, of course, but rather a story that people can read and enjoy. It has to something you can relate to, but different in that your curious to know more. That’s the main challenge in writing for others. I do like writing for myself most of the time, but I decided it’d be nice to challenge myself. I want to write a short story. By doing so, people are more acceptable to reading and enjoying something from a new author. Or so I hope.
In writing I have a few things I like to consider. The first sentence, for example, must be perfect. It is the first impression to the reader. If it sparks interest, they’ll read more. So it’s normally the most annoying and pleasing part of writing for myself. I spend hours trying to write it perfectly, but when I get it I feel great. The last sentence is important as well. How you end a story means a lot to a reader. If it ends poorly, a reader will be upset in investing their time only to be seemingly wasted; however, if you end a story and please the reader, you’ll likely leave the reader wanting more. This is where writing becomes an art. Everything must be balanced and crafted skillfully to execute a worthwhile story. I understand this and it drives me crazy.
The writer is his own worst critic and we all know it. Anyone who’s wrote anything knows that they are constantly judging themselves. This is good and bad. While few good works come from pure inspiration, most come careful shaping and editing of a work to ensure the maximum potential of a story. It’s bad in that many times we might destroy whole stories on doubting ourselves. I have to remember to be creative and clever, but to keep a structure and never let it fall apart.
I want to make realistic fantasy. I think of Neil Gaiman’s work in this way. Most of his work involves a heavy amount of fantasy, but when I read it and imagine it as a perfectly rational possibility. Of course, I want to be my own voice, not the mask of another. So even though Neil Gaiman is inspiration of mine, I do not want my work to be as his are.
I’m looking forward to writing this. Maybe my dreams will give me a good story.
This is my first post on this new trend of a site known as tumblr. Unlike previous blogging sites I’ve attended, I will spare the introductions and simply post what I I’d like the world to see of me. Hence, The Theater of my Mind. This is my play to the world, but you haven’t a clue what lies behind it all. That’s probably best for you and me. So, without further ado, I give you page one.
I’ve recently gone through a break up with my girlfriend. It was more a change in relationship status in that we became best friends and are no longer intimate. It was good for the both of us and I believe we’re in agreement on that. We have no problems between us, rather the problem I have with the separation is personal.
I crave sex. Why, of course you do, Cj, you’re a guy! Guys think about sex ALL THE TIME! While that is true, this isn’t like that. I can get sex, but what would be the appropriate way of getting sex? I’m not the douche bag of a guy that just goes out and bangs the first hot and willing girl. I have a respect for sex and for women. It’s a powerful and exhilarating experience that should be share with someone special in some way. You might think this would rule out the idea of a one night stand and that’s where it gets complicated.
If I’m to have sexual relations with someone, I’d prefer to do it with someone new to me, that I’d likely only see once again in my life. So the one night stand is exactly what I’m looking for. This isn’t impossible, but it is rare. I want to meet someone for the first time and really connect with them. I want to feel like they really understand who and where I am in life and that I understand them too. And then, I want to spend one wild and beautiful night with them. Almost like something out of a movie. A dirty movie, I suppose. But if it was directed by like, Marc Forster’s Stranger Than Fiction or Michel Gondry’s Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. A beautiful kind of dirty. And then, on top of all that, I’d like us to go our separate ways, never to see each other again. Only the beautiful memory and what if’s to think back on each other.
Some of you might look and think of it as a sad wish, but it’s simply that I’m not ready for another relationship. I had a dream last night that I can’t remember everything about, but the very clear part I remember was a girl with long, straight red hair that would sway as if it were lighter than air pulled me to her lips and kiss me. I know that sexual aspects in dreams normally mean completely different things, but this felt very related to something sensual in me. I want to experience sex. Yes, very much so. Perhaps even with a close friend, or even a once close friend. But I don’t want to be tied to that person in any way. I just want to share a beautiful experience with someone with meaning to me. So I ask you, is that to much to ask for?
If you know me and a personal level and do want to answer that question, please do. I’d be happy to hear what you have to say. If you don’t know me, feel free to answer anyways.
Sight through my own frame.