Thought Bubble

I was waiting for a meeting to start where a famous religious speaker would be giving a sermon to my Christian college student body. It happens often here, but this time the guest speaker was particularly renown. I noticed the usual attendance had quadrupled, unsurprisingly. Anyway, I was early so these were my thoughts that I scribbled in a notebook while I waited in my seat for the meeting time to arrive.

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“Not so huddled” masses jockey for position in the throng.

Calling for their companies from crowds divided by crowds.

Running like a snowmelt in the grip of an early summer, rushing towards what destinations they themselves have pre-determined to be best for them. Will they make it? Can they stretch that far?

Volume and momentums rise and fall like the tide observed in fast-forward.

Settling now like nestlings suddenly overcome by sleep’s listless call, the frenzy calms on the surface. Only their eyes give it away.

Is it happening? Is it soon? Is it now?

They know the schedule hasn’t changed but voice the questions to please themselves, reaching for reassurances.

Still they are blind to the hypocrisy that rules all of this, if consistency is as important as they say.

Am I one of them? I came now in the heat of summer, yes, but I was already on my way in spring, long before I knew July was on the horizon. I guess I missed the warmth.

Does that make me lucky then? Would that I could attend a secret hidden summer, alone from prying eyes and flapping tongues in simple skulls.

Would that I could enjoy the solitude as well as the sun. But warmth attracts life, and I am a part of that life too. To deny the rest their chance would be to deny in part my own kind.

After all, are we not all creatures just trying to find a little warmth to enjoy? Who am I to deny others what they have found just as I have found it and for the same reasons?

The sun is never dimmed because a more than one seeks to thrive beneath it. Indeed a room grows warmer when more bodies share it.

Untitled Song #1

Sometimes I hear the intro of a song I’ve never heard before, and then I pause the song before the words can start and I make up my own version of what I think would sound good based on those first few seconds of what I heard. These are the words that came after the first twenty seconds of Death Cab for Cutie’s “Tiny Vessels”. I have a whole melody for the lyrics too, but since I can’t write music I don’t know how to share that here.


[verse 1]
In and outside of my head
Voices tell me I’ll soon be dead
If I keep on this path I’ve chose
For the sake of a thorny rose.
.
.
.
Every tear on her pillowcase
Is a dream she didn’t choose to chase
Because somebody spoke her scorn
That pricked her tender, like a thorn.
.
.
.
[chorus]
Get up now.
You don’t need a reason why.
Get up now.
A little further and you’ll fly.
.
.
.
[verse 2]
if you listen to me,
You will hear of the things I see
They say we’re boats- doomed to sink before we visit the sea-But to me
Everyone can walk on water.
.
.
.
[chorus]
Get up now.
You don’t need a reason why.
Get up now.
A little further and you’ll fly
.
.
.
[instrumental]
.
.
.
[verse 3]
You don’t have to let them choose,
Just because somebody else believes you’ll lose.
Look closely and you’ll see
They don’t know the future
 anymore than you or me.
.
.
.
[chorus]
Get up now.
You don’t need a reason why.
Get up now.
A little further and you’ll fly.
.
.
.
Get up now.
You are the reason and you are the why.
It won’t be long now.
They’re gonna look up and see you fly.
.
.
.
In and outside of my head,

Voices tell me I’ll soon be dead
If I keep on this path I’ve chose
For the sake of a thorny rose.
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Thought Bubble

Reading allows us to feel pleasure from something we’re not experiencing, and forget the pain from something we are.

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The Clay That Cries

In capricious youth
We sought to soar those sovereign skies,
Severing for once
the cords of gravity that ties
man down like a rock,
a stone, a lump of clay that cries
As fleeting far above
The cosmos, through the clouds, he spies
Wonders east to west,
Without prisons, without lies.

Oh! To be a bird;
give chase to winds and dragonflies
Beyond this heavy place.
That is where my true heart lies.

But as I said, that was in youth.
When rocks could dream and clay could cry.
Old, I’ve baked and hardened now.
But still I crack, and still I cry.

Autumn Slip [Poem #3]

Failing never Falling
Leaves slip and drip from branches bare
Now
To all the world
A skeleton
A creature shorn of hair

Tousled, lapped and tugged by winds
Come visiting from North to now
Desperate green fights grey within
Turns red and begs the question “How?”

The northern whisper
Brings the ice
And skeletons sleep
‘Neath shrouds of blue
Piercing some that
Lace of night
Glistening with frozen dew

Shivering bodies bend and bow

While ‘cicles reach for what was lost

Until the sun can bead their brows

Budding new what once was was cost
For failing never falling
As when the leaves of yesteryear
Turned red to try
And lost.

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Monster in the Mirror [Poem #2]

I never understood the need
To want what others had; the Greed
That turns the emerald eyes of man
To hide in secret, plot and plan
To take away his brother’s throne
And make superiority known,
Until the day I saw my fate
And felt the hour growing late
And desperation crazed and keen
Turned my own eyes emerald green.

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A Thought About Gay Weddings

Let me start this off by saying that, for all I know, I am full of crap here. I’m no expert. I could be entirely wrong. That being said, here ya go… Continue reading

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Thought Bubble

Sometimes you just want to enjoy being selfish, but while it’s true that you don’t owe anyone anything, I find it best to remember that applies both ways.

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A Theory About the Universe.

When we are young, we are so full of life. But life demands life. It’s never enough, so we hunger for more. We hunger for it, and so we consume it, all of it that we can get our hands on. Until it kills us.

But before it kills us, we reach a halfway point, a moment of time where we are satisfied. We have experienced and understood and grown from enough of it all to reach a nirvana, if you will, where our hunger finally quiets to a memory and we can enjoy every ounce of each second we are living in. Truly experience it 100% for the first time.
It doesn’t last-Life demands that it continue passing through us whether we want more or not.- but for a moment, a glorious transcendent heartbeat of a moment…we can put down our implements and stretch. We can sigh in satisfaction and just be.

In this state we can finally look up and observe the world around us in all it’s intricacies and breathtaking performances. Each miracle, each mystery, each detail from the obvious to the invisible, from the important to the more important to the commonly misunderstood. We can watch each second inhale the breath of life from the exhale of the last.

In this state we can see for the first time what it truly is to be a cog in reality, or existence, or whatever you want to call that great machine. We can see too, what it means to be a machine in our own right, made of smaller classes of cogs, and so on. It’s all connected. It’s all one. The farthest edges of opposite sides of the universe are only as separated from one another as are the tips of your thumbnails. Still connected. One entity united in common identity if only you look with the proper perspective.

So, before this moment, stretching back as far as birth to now, we were never really hungry for life. Not really. After all, how can you expect to gain anything new from consuming parts of yourself?

That would be like watching a perfectly enclosed reservoir collecting droplets of its own condensation dripping off the ceiling and expecting the water level to rise because of it.

What we were really hungered for was perception. Realization of identity and ultimate purpose.

We were looking for the freedom in the fetter, the view inside the painting, rapture in the melody, the glow behind the eyes, the ghost in the machine.

Throughout our history men have glimpsed this view and hid from it, afraid that admitting we are not islands will rob them of their freedom to accept and reject different parts at their leisure. There can be no freedom in a land-locked state of interconnection, they’ve told themselves. As though all islands weren’t connected to each other anyway, once you took away the misdirection of the waters.

The truth, that such association is actually the means of ultimate freedom is ironic. The truth that there is no greater freedom than this fetter is so well hidden as to sound ridiculous, yet so obvious even the wind ignores the chains links while it passes through them with a laugh.

As I said, this vista doesn’t last. It cannot. Such a view is only at the summit, the peak between the hungry and the overfed. The needy and the needless. After that we continue-by then we have forgotten how to stop!-and absorb more and more from life until the medicine that sustained us becomes the poison that destroys us;or at least our shells. But even then we remain in place in the great machine that was and is and will be, this circle without a beginning or an end. We remain a part of this everything.


Now then, why does this matter? Because if there is anything bad in our world, it is a part of us and it shouldn’t be. Like a sickness that an immune system has a duty to cleanse from the body, we have a duty as members of this united existence to do our best, trying to help the collective while not losing sight of the importance of the individual pieces. Learning how to do that, I think, might be one of the greatest things possible.

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A plea for the sanity of olden times.

Please forgive the hubris, but sometimes it seems to me that anyone who had anything meaningful to say has written it and died. And now their books gather dust on our shelves like ruined monuments lost to the jungle growth of time and change; Like relics of a romanticized past, declared pretty to look at but irrelevant. Their works are collected like paperweights to serve as veneers of intellectualism, trophies to fill out a display bookcase, while their messages smother within them and we turn on the television to see the latest episode of “junk food” for the soul.

I yearn for a modern day example of deep thought that isn’t merely deep, but also worth swimming in.

If you know of any gems, please share them with me in the comments.

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