A Disjointed Glance into my Life

To say the least, my life has been quite good in the past 2 months.

Aside from the minor and familiar affliction of eczema, things have been close to perfect.

It's close too 1 AM here, but not quite. I'm lying on my bed with my fathers Netbook computer, concentrating exclusively on the screen, considering all that faces away from it in my room is plastered black with darkness I wasn't quite expecting when I switched off my Xbox and TV.

I took a walk earlier, and the stars were quite clear, at least from what I could see beneath my upwardly restricting toque and hood. I always find myself glancing at the least, or gazing at the most, at the infinite wonder of the stars. I've even caught myself doing it virtually, within detailed video games such as Red Dead Redemption, GTA 4, or the Elder Scrolls: Oblivion. The Elder Scrolls stars I find to be the most fascinating, considering the game itself takes place in another (albeit fictional) world, so it's separate stars and constellations, and from what perspective?

Anyways, as you can tell, this is quite the disjointed blog post. I like it, as it reflects my mood at the moment; tired, with different emotions trying to lodge themselves in me for longer than a few fleeting moments. None of said emotions are bad, in any tragic context; one is optimistic indifference, the others, that come-and-go feeling of missing someone to different degrees as they pop into your mind in different concentrations; a feeling of now; a feeling of general happiness; and a feeling of very slight despair that is mixing distastefully with all of the others.

There are many things I'm looking forward to, however; and I'll admit, one isn't returning to school on the 4th. The biggest thing I'm looking forward to right now, to be honest, is my girlfriends return; but more immediately, New Years, when we here on planet Earth get to ring in a new year of arbitrary labels and time-barriers, which I too get a kick out of recognizing.

I'll be having a few people over that night, and we'll be pulling an all-nighter as to properly welcome the one and only 2011 into our world, and have some fun while were at it.

Anyways, blue planet, I'm going to go read, and then comfortably fall asleep to the sound of nothing. Peace out, and a Happy Holiday to everyone!

Hands

I've got eczema on both of my hands. Although not as bad as they used to be, itchy, unattractive bubbles pop up under the skin on the palms of my hands. Sometimes, the skin peels and cracks.

My eczema, especially on my hands, has always been a focal point of my insecurities. Only now am I starting to get over it, as I already do as much as I can to both prevent and control it. Beyond that, I have to deal with it, and I know that.

I was with my girlfriend the other day, and we were cuddling on my bed. She caressed my hands, and adoringly inspected them.

"You've got really nice hands, Kyran." She said.

My eyes began to water slightly as I smiled.

That meant so much to me.

The Xbox 360 Agenda

Well, the title says it all.

Last Saturday, as an early Christmas present from my mother, father, and a few other relatives, I received an Microsoft Xbox 360; one of the newer, sleeker kinds, with about 250 gigs of memory space. Since then, I've been playing it quite a bit, and as such, haven't made the time to do much in the way of updating my blog or any other such internet entity. And for once, I do not apologize as I have been thoroughly enjoying myself, glued to Call of Duty Black Ops, Red Dead Redemption, and Grand Theft Auto IV.

As of right now, I have no concrete plans for any future feature-length articles or short stories, but I can guarantee that there will be more coming your way. If not this month, then you'll see much appear on my blog in 2011.

I feel slightly bad for some reason, as I haven't left the house in the past 2 days. In fact, I'm still wearing the same shirt I was wearing 2 days prior, I haven't showered in the same amount of time, and I have yet to change out of my pajama bottoms. Oh well, that's what Winter Break is for, I'd assume. Or all breaks, for that matter (excluding vehicle breaks).

Not all of my time has been wasted on Xbox, however. I have broken a string on my guitar since, but I have been using my mothers guitar as to continue my musical endeavors and have started on 2 new songs (despite the fact that I haven't finished the other 7 or so that I have on the go). I've also written another poem since last Saturday, which would be the previous post, Whispers of the Truly Inaudible (which is dedicated to my girlfriend), for those who would like to check it out.

I should probably see if I can make some plans for today, so I don't simply slip away into the lifeless and anti-social void of Xbox. Hmm.. maybe I'll invite someone over, and we'll play co-op Nazi Zombies.

That wasn't sarcasm, either.

Peace out, blue planet! You'll be hearing more from me soon enough!

Whispers of the Truly Inaudible

The simplest of words could not put it in context;

The most complex of words simply cause all to fall vexed.

The words in between show me no satisfaction,

In conveying to you my heart-wrenching attraction.

The words which I seek are words far out of sight,

Whether simply of fear or what 'they' say is right;

Yet the show-up in symbol and acceleration of art,

Simply does not explain, and displays but a part.

Whether happy or sad,

Angry, or mad,

The bright-side, the dark-side, the good and the bad;

When I miss you, I miss you,

When I'm with you, I find,

You leave for a moment,

And enter the back-door of my mind.

The forefront I use to concentrate on my task;

To see behind what's in front,

And tear-away all mens masks,

Yet in limited doses,

You permeate my minds eye.

I enjoy your hypnosis,

So I never ask why.

Anonymously Untitled

Like the back of a cart during the bubonic plague,
I’d have to say a dead mans story is long,
But very vague,
As we learn little from the lessons of history,
We treat is as an obsolete and unsaid sort of mystery.

The difference between black and white,
A bird in seat or flight,
A tense and dangerous human right,
As if as much as we can see,
Is the boundary of our site;

If we treat each other as we would like to be treated;
Why does a teacher tell us to remain seated?
They don’t say sit back and relax in any context,
Instead they emphasize not to use bad words or obscene text.

Am I not allowed to tell you to sit down?
Tell you I owe you nothing but a respectable frown?
I owe you nothing but decency,
Not a mind filled with verbs in which I hope others translate boundlessly.

To say I sleep with a pillow,
Is like saying I steep tea like I reap benefits from the luxuries,
Of today’s modern cars and inventions.

To assume I immorally influence a young child in growth,
Is like assuming I don’t walk the sidewalk to remain safe,
From the wind of wild traffic to my left and to my right,
Or to say we don’t disobey ancient conventions,
In which mankind is barred from flight.

Between SpaceX and NASDAQ,
And the jealous old man named NASA,
“Good Wall Street” ain’t looked at,
As the media keeps its mind where its eyes remain fixed;
On the flaws and the findings,
The wars and the signings,
The fear of dead children whose pics we find blinding.

The new Rules of Engagement,
Angers militaristics in danger,
Of bullets and shrapnel they volunteered to go face;
They are angry at the awareness created by J. Assange,
When murder was collateral damage, to which they are fond;
It’s strange, as truth is now treason,
And a man needs a reason,
To liberate information we deserved in the first place,
Yet our apathy, indifference, and anger at ourselves,
Commits us to a stage of denial within book-shelves,
Inside which we fear ‘it,’
We fear ‘them,’
And ‘there’ shit,
Yet we hallow the ground in our mind in which we hide action;
For we fear that we’ll be charged for our thinking’s infractions.

Please reassure me that I’m free,
And that I am my own faction.

The Generalization Delusion

Human kind is fucking insane.

Even the most enlightened of us are fucking insane. Insane in a better context than the rest may be, but insane none-the-less.

How many examples of our misled insanity can you spot in a day? I wouldn't be surprised to know that the more cynical persons of society may make a dreary game out of it. It can be hard to spot, from the pedestal of a blissfully ignorant Westerner, but once you break that invisible barrier of a face-value societal interpretation, you tend to see through everyone's veils. I catch myself staring in a mirror sometimes, seeing through my very own veil into what I feel I've hidden from even myself, and that simple idea that I can hide such meticulous yet important details of my own persona from myself frightens me. Why?

Because I am aware that I am one of society's exceptions; someone who, even if I delude myself with such an interpretation, sees differently, and in my personal opinion, much clearer than many others do. It scares me to think that even my philosophically fine-tuned mind can't spot some of the prominent flaws within myself until they make themselves clear, and leads me to understand why there are so many men and women who walk this Earth, blissfully unaware of there great ignorance. Whether that ignorance leads to arrogance and a self-centered interpretation of reality, or the illusion of egalitarianism and understanding, is irrelevant. Although one may be better than the other, grading either would only be buying into one of society's greatest flaws, even if said flaw is verbally, as well as mentally convenient.

It's a strange paradox, however; and my notion seems to be to follow the rest in deviating off the beaten trail. I am fully aware of the fact that I may be deluding myself with sources and influences and opinions which are not of sound state; or, perhaps, no opinion can be of sound state. In fact, that seems to be the case. No opinion is fact, and all fact is derived from opinion; or, at the least, from perception. Even the most unbiased of works are biased, even if in more of a third-person context, considering the works sources may have been poisoned with the emotionally-tainted opinions of there creators. Some may not quite understand what I'm getting at, so here's an example: Winston Churchill, demoralized and emotionally beaten during the Blitz of 1940, writes of the resilience and unity of the British people in the face of such disturbing odds. When he says such a thing, he generalizes, as old, pre-war rivalries between individuals and factions are more than likely to be in continuation despite the greater conflict, and as such, on a microcosmic scale in comparison to the bigger picture, the British people are not entirely unified, which would, in a sense, render Churchill's statement verbally incorrect, as well as emotionally and perceptively biased, as all he is able to see is the bigger picture. Albeit as convenient as the statement was, and may still be in giving a 'gist' of the era's dark and brooding, yet resilient atmosphere, it leads future, self-labelled 'unbiased' historians to take the statement and interpret it as an overlying fact, in the faith that the majority of the British people truly were reflected by its words, and as such, live in the idea that the 'majority rules.'

Democratically speaking, the majority does indeed rule; yet historically speaking, this renders the minorities of the circumstance and situation voiceless, as they are forgotten by history as simply not being. In the event they are remembered, they are seen as exceptions; in a sense, a part of the era, but exempt from the popular bigger-picture.

Life's complicated and confusing when you get into details; hence why many delude themselves by conveniently generalizing.

Chronic Skipping

Who am I, and what am I?
I am Kyran Paterson-King, and I am a chronic skipper.

For those of you who are not familiar with the term, being a 'skipper' means you don't attend classes at school when you decide you don't want to attend classes at school, no matter how 'important' they may be.
A lot of people see skippers in a bad light, assuming them to be lazy, and bad when it comes to academic progress. Now, some skippers may be lazy, and as such, that could lead to their being bad when it comes to academic progress, but honestly... out of the 2, I am very good at academic progress. I don't find myself to be lazy overall, but I do support laziness. Not to the point where it becomes self-destructive, but to the point where it denies the idea of a linear schedule from time to time, in favor of unstructured time, which I find is good for intellectual growth and stimulation, as well as good for maintenance of physical health.

Now, I'm going to admit, not every time I skip is in favor of unstructured time on my part; sometimes I skip for the purpose of a creative pursuit. For example: lets say its 8:45 AM, and my class starts at 9 AM. I am eight blocks away at home, and have really got into writing a new blog post, or poem, or something of that nature. Quickly, I make the conscious decision that said creative pursuit is more important to me than guitar class, or psychology class, or even English class. As such, I decide to stay home and finish what it is I started while I still have the motivational drive, instead of letting it die-out as I sit restlessly in my desk for an hour or two.

Some people, most prominently my parents, yet occasionally my teachers, tell me that my "blatant disregard for school," as well as my "chronic skipping," will "never be tolerated in the job world." I'd have to say I agree, but that doesn't stop me from laughing abit as I quickly remind them that, although I see the benefits of education, those benefits are mine for the taking. I don't get paid to sit in class all day, despite the fact that it may be a privilege.
When it comes to a job, I probably would force my hand away from any creative pursuit I've really gotten in to, simply due to the fact that I am going to a place where they reward me for my work with a currency I can use to feed my creative pursuit even further, if I so wish.
All school does, in the long run, is open you up to more possibilities of being schooled. And to earn that future privilege, I must sit in a class room for 6 hours and 15 minutes a day, 5 days a week, 10 months a year, for 12 years (even if I am on the 12th and final year).

I hated schedules enough as it was; imagine how much I hate one that dictates a large portion of my actions for 12 whole years.

Another thing I dislike, is when a teacher asks for a note saying why you were absent.
It's not that I disagree with her asking, but when you admit that you have no excuse, she really shouldn't pursue it. All she should be doing is suggesting that you show her a note, so it isn't put down as an unexcused absence on the system. If you don't have a note, then so be it, you've earned another unexcused absence. That should be your problem, and your loss.
But my English teacher, for example, instead demands that you go to the office and get a note from the vice-principal saying that you'll get a note tomorrow. What the hell? If this is some way to inform my parents of my absence, don't you already call my home every time I turn out not being there?
Most of the time, I simply tell her I'm not going to, and keep doing so quite mild-mannerly throughout the entire class, until she simply forgets, and the class simply ends without her asking once again.

Next time she demands a note, I'm going to tell her the obvious truth: I am an independent being of this planet Earth, not a subjugate of this school.

Who, What, When, Where, and Why?

Earlier today, I finished reading the book titled "God's Debris," written by Scott Adams, the creator and illustrator of the famous cartoon character known as Dilbert. It was quite an incredible book, albeit a fiction... it was wrapped in the blankets of philosophy, science, psychology, self-actualization, and, yes, speculation. I can't say, as of yet, if it was a life-changing book like a few I have read, but it's certain to have a lasting impact on me.

Basically, a package courier in New York City is charged with delivering a mysterious package to an equally mysterious old man. When he shows up at the old mans home, he is cryptically told that the package was meant for himself, and thus they start on a book-long debate on absolutely everything regarding life in the universe. One part of the book that really struck me was near the end, when the old man was listing the "5 stages of awareness." Although I admit I haven't quite reached stage 5, I'd like to look back on my past and observe as to whether I have reached the other 4 previous stages, as to me, it feels like I accelerated through many of these stages much earlier in my life than is expected, or normal, for most other people.

"He described what he called the five levels of awareness and said that all humans experience the first level of awareness at birth. That is when you first become aware that you exist."

Even the least intelligent of us have experienced, and may still be experiencing, this level of awareness. In my mind, I was aware of my own existence in some form by the time I was 3. Although that awareness was in no way verbalized within my infant mind, it was there, like a spiritual communion between my mental and physical self, as I began on the life-long journey of inner, as well as outer discovery.

"In the second level of awareness you understand that other people exist. You believe most of what you are told by authority figures. You accept the belief system in which you are raised."

I believe I fully reached this stage by the time I was 4, when a social reality was imposed on me by my preschool year. It was no longer that I was simply aware of the fact that my mother and father, as well as my brother existed... I discovered the reality that there were many more people beyond the frontiers of my immediate family. I developed through this stage in a natural progression, falling into line when I was told, taking everything I was taught by adults at face-value to be truth, and believing, once again, non-verbally, in some sort of 'chain of command,' which played a necessary role in my natural growth. At one point, by the time I was 10, I was attending church with my mother, and I believed strongly in the existence of a God. I prayed whenever I felt it necessary. All of a sudden, much of my past habits and beliefs exploded in my face as soon as I hit 12... but I suppressed such feelings, interpreting them as flawed and wrong, as no one else around me appeared to think in the same way. Therefore, it must have been wrong.

"At the third level of awareness you recognize that humans are often wrong about the things they believe. You feel that you might be wrong about some of your own beliefs but you don’t know which ones. Despite doubts, you still find comfort in your beliefs."

I'd say this stage existed between the time I was 11, and the time I was about 13. I began to realize, yet not entirely acknowledge, the evident flaws in many peoples ways of thinking, as well as there beliefs in certain things which lacked any real evidence. I began down the road to atheism, yet the road was rocky and unstable, and I began rudely contesting the idea of a God or any sort of religious deity, using the comforting, yet sour illusion of mockery to keep the idea away from any benefit of the doubt on my part.

"The fourth level is skepticism. You believe the scientific method is the best measure of what is true and you believe you have a good grasp of truth, thanks to science, your logic, and your senses. You are arrogant when it comes to dealing with people in levels two and three."

When I finally acknowledged the fact that I seemed to be reaching a higher level of consciousness, or awareness, as the book calls it, I did, indeed, become a skeptic. The tail-end of the sour illusion of mockery began to fade away slowly, as I became much more modest and secure in my views. Slowly, but surely, I began to give God the benefit of the doubt; yet this only became possible as I opened my eyes to the legion of other ideas the world had to offer, which humbled my egocentric view of my own 'awareness.' I began to speak down to people with religious beliefs, I found. Not directly, and not intentionally; but the arrogant idea that I may not be entirely right, but I was better-informed and better minded than those who bought in to such beliefs played a subconscious role in my attitude towards them.

"The fifth level of awareness is the Avatar. The Avatar understands that the mind is an illusion generator, not a window to reality. The Avatar recognizes science as a belief system, albeit a useful one. An Avatar is aware of ‘God’s’ power as expressed in probability and the inevitable recombination of ‘God’s’ consciousness."

Now, a big chunk of this last level of 'awareness' is based more around the stories narrative than it is based around reality itself. But, there is alot of truth to it.

I can't say that I am at this level regarding the story itself, but I can say I am either between levels 4 and 5, or I am level 5, yet within the frame of reality, as opposed to the frame of fiction. I do, indeed, believe science is sophisticated and incredible; yet it is not the be-all and end-all. It, too, like the book successfully illustrates, is a series of beliefs which are used to fill in our gaps of understanding. It is, despite its claims to the contrary, humanocentric by nature. It is us, and only us, doing the research, as well as labeling for our own convenience... not for that of nature or the universe. I mean, what is 'Animalia' beyond being our way to place animals on a chart, and label them as such? What is 'gravity?' What is 'hate?' What is 'love?' What is 'psychology?' And for that matter, what is 'God?'

Human consciousness and awareness is purely based on labels; otherwise, there would be no way to identify anything and everything within our minds. I mean, the entire idea of 'Levels of Awareness' is also nothing but a label; a way to classify thoughts, actions, and words based on their perceived significance. Albeit, labeling is quite useful.

It does lead me to one inevitable question, however...

Who is 'Kyran Paterson-King?'

The Angel in the Black Clouds

May you be blessed with,
Much laughter; deep love.

May you bear witness,
To the bright stars above.

May you see brightness,
On the darkest of days.

May you not settle,
For that which just pays.

May you not find,
You're required to fight.

May you allow others,
To carry the light.

May you see what is,

As opposed to what's not.

Feel blessed as you cry,

For you're alive, as you feel your tears drop.

Feel real as you kneel,

In modest respect,

For those who have seen,

Who have sung,

And who find no need to neglect.

Feel the freedom endowed,

Upon your innocent shoulders;

As it will make you guilt-ridden,

Or crush you like a boulder.

Remember to remember,

Forget little, and let

The world play a game of picks, screws, and death.

You are as real to me, as real can get.

An Attemped Frame-Up

Hello again, cyberspace. I guess I really don't have much to apologize for this time around, considering that I posted only a few days ago... therefore, for once, I won't.
I thought I'd just give everyone a quick update on how I'm doing.
The girlfriend I mentioned in Quick as Quick Updates Come and I broke up quite awhile ago, but it was for the best. That's all I'm really going to say, so I won't go to in-depth with that. We're still friends, and we talk without any real issue, so it's not as if we've lost each other.

Aside from that, I'm now passing my English class with 57%, which, as sad a mark as that is in the sense that I love writing, it's definitely an upgrade from my 38% only a month or so back. I really do resent the structure of the English language sometimes.
Also, I got a haircut; it's been cut to just above my eyes, so I can now see; but that's abit of a boring side of things. I thought I'd mention it more to the benefit of those who I have physically met in my lifetime, and who read my blog on occasion.

Some completely inconvenient, and rather uncalled for drama unfolded last night, which, although it really had nothing to do with me or my mom and step-dad, somehow grew to envelop me. There was loud banging downstairs, in the tenants loft, as well as aggressive screaming and yelling. It sounded as if someone may have been physically assaulted, although that side of the story didn't properly reveal itself until later. I tried to ignore it, or at least not get involved in any capacity, and although it continued, my mom and step-dad went to bed, with my mom advising that if there was a knock at the door, that I refrain from answering, and instead pretend no one is home.
Finally, 2 loud crashes drew my parents quickly back from out of bed, and they came downstairs, after calling the police, to listen for themselves. They then went back to bed, after most of it had subsided, and I was left alone downstairs on the computer, aimlessly browsing my Facebook as I seem to always do. Almost as soon as they were back upstairs, the male tenant came to the door and began knocking. After no response, he tried again. Still, I refrained from answering. He then tried to peek through the mail-slot and into the hallway, explaining, in detail, his side of the story on what chaos had occurred, stating that his wife had come home "piss-drunk" and caused the largest scene he's ever bore witness too.

After refusing to let her inside, she broke (or attempted to break) the door down (personally, I have yet to check for myself, and I don't remember any definitive statements confirming the door being broken, just that she had at least attempted to do so, hence one of the louder crashes). She continued in her attempt, and happened to leave only a few minutes before the RCMP showed up.

When he was done his mail-slot rant, he asked that either my mom or step-dad come to the door so he could have a word with one (or both) of them. Following my moms instructions, I pretended I wasn't home, and did an idiotically revealing thing by silently switching off one of the lamps, as to cause him to notice someone was attempting to pretend as if they weren't there. He laughed, said he didn't "blame anyone" for not wanting to come to the door, tried a few more times to get someone to respond, gave up, and then retreated back downstairs just in time for the cops to arrive at his door. Just after he retreated downstairs, both of my parents showed-up, and asked what had just happened. I explained it to them in detail, and as such, they decided to sit and listen once again as he came into light verbal conflict with the police officers. It quickly transformed into a friendly exchange, in which they all shared a few laughs and jokes after the tenant explained what had happened. Finally, after about half an hour or so, the police left.

The tenant then came back upstairs in an attempt to find either one of my parents and explain to them what had occurred. My mother was still reluctant, but my step-dad answered the door anyways, and they began to chum it up as the tenant explained exactly what had happened, and how it would "never happen again." He then veered off topic in this, and began pointing out times when we, upstairs, had made way to much noise for the downstairs tenants to deal with.
Most of them, I'll admit, were all fair enough; for example: on Labor Day weekend, I had a friend over, and we pulled an all-nighter. I admit we might have been abit to loud, and I apologized for that. It wasn't until he began stating that either my brother or I had held quite a few "wild parties" when neither my mom nor step-dad were around. It obviously wasn't my brother, because he just isn't the party social kind of guy. If anyone in the house was, it was me.

Now, he explained in detail all the 'crazy parties' I'd had, as well as all the 'young girls' I had apparently had over. Getting suspicious and annoyed at the tenant, as I couldn't recall anything even close to this nature ever occurring, I continued to hold my tongue until he pointed out an apparent incident in which someone, during one of these parties, had allegedly had sex in his car, stating that his wife found "the seats pushed all the way back, and a used condom on the floor" the following morning. Now it was getting harder and harder to hold my tongue as I sat there listening. It wasn't until he said that he had witnessed a group of about "6 or 7 young girls smoking and drinking" on the front porch. What really caused me to get angry enough to intervene is when my step-dad concurred with him, stating that he had driven past at the time of said party, and witnessed the girls smoking and drinking on the front porch as well.

Quite angry and annoyed, I (rudely, I'll admit) told my step-dad to "shut the fuck up." I believe he misinterpreted it as me attempting to use the masculine 'bro code' thing or whatever in order to get him to not 'rat me out,' when, in reality, it had nothing to do with that at all, as I was more aggressively annoyed because none of these apparent parties had ever happened on my watch, as I hadn't even become aware of them until the tenant had decided to bring them up for no real reason (aside from a way to cover his own ass for what had just happened, as well as other past 'incidents').

I'm still quite annoyed by all of it, especially considering the subsequent conflicts it caused between myself and my parents. Honestly, the only people I can see having parties with smoking and drinking are the next-door neighbors, whom I know to be stoners (very nice stoners, but still stoners). They're also the only people within the general area I could actually picture having sex in someone elses car. I mean, that's not to say they did, but I know I certainly didn't, and I also know I've never had any parties at this house, let alone parties of that nature. Oh well, I'm sure whatever really happened will reveal itself in time. All I know is that despite what the tenant said, I know what the truth is (at least from my perspective). If there was a party, or parties, I was completely unaware of them until last night.

Man, people can be incredibly annoying and strange sometimes.

Conciousness in the Abscence of Life

I've been pondering this for only about 5 minutes, to be totally honest, but I thought I'd get it down in writing while it's still incredibly fresh in my mind.

I was contemplating the old evolutionary ways of 'survival of the fittest,' when I suddenly moved into the whole idea of consciousness. It's a proven fact that the human brain, which is the seat of consciousness, as well as humanity as an individual and a whole, is a biological structure, and as such, is subject to the universes fundamental physical laws. Thinking strictly in these terms, it would seem hard to really believe in the face-value interpretation of a spirit, especially one that continues to exist following the physical death of an individual. Now, to make myself clear, I am neither supporting nor condemning any religious or individual beliefs in regard to a post-mortem spirit; I am simply voicing my interpretation as it is at the moment.

It would seem, in a black-and-white sense, that when the human brain is dead, it's simply dead. That's all there is to it. As such, the consciousness of the passed individual is also destroyed. Interestingly, depending on the individual, it may not be as dead as one may believe.
In the sense that it has lost its awareness of itself, it is, or would at least seem to be dead, and many would argue that awareness of itself is what makes it conscious.

Let me stop dancing around the idea itself, and simply jump to the point.
For example:
There is a man who has decided to live his life to the fullest, as he sees it, and decides to go bodysuit-gliding through a part of the Andes mountains in South America, at a direct risk to his own life. Someone (or a group of people) decide to record it professionally and cinematically. The said gliding individual, after a heart-poundingly epic session of gliding, dies upon a rough landing due to a punctured wing. Regardless, the video is placed on the internet, and becomes incredibly popular, and as such, through the video, people relate to the conscious activities of the gliding man, and what he saw in the last moments of his life. I don't know about everyone else, but if I were to witness such a video, I would feel as if I would be glimpsing inside the gliding mans consciousness both at the moment, as well as a whole. That moment would give me a good idea of who he was and how he thought, as well as what and how he perceived. In this sense, his consciousness would live on not only in me, but in the millions of others who watched the video with an emotional maturity and understanding, regardless of the fact that he's dead.

Now, on the contrary, a young inward-looking individual who remains out of the public spotlight entirely, is at home at this bachelors apartment one night. He has only a few very distant friends, due to his self-imposed isolation. While alone, he chokes on a piece of food, and dies as a result. As soon as his consciousness disperses, it disperses into nothingness due to his remaining out of the public spotlight, and making it hard for the majority to ever understand, or ever get the chance to understand, what or how he perceived. His story would be very unlikely to be told anywhere, to anyone, due to the above reasoning's, and as such, everything about him would probably disperse entirely, and he would be largely forgotten, except as a vague memory by his distant friends. The only people that would be likely to remember him with any depth would be his immediate family; like his parents, or possible siblings, and through them is the only way his consciousness would continue past his death, providing they understood him well enough.

I'm honestly not entirely sure about any of it, but it's a interesting concept. Just thought I'd get it down on my blog, unlike my other in-depth philosophical thoughts I haven't got much of a chance to write about in the past few weeks.

Anyways, hope this was interesting for anyone who decided to read, and have a good night, Blue Planet.

Quick as quick updates come

Hello cyberspace. I apologize, as I always do, for my long internet absence, at least in the world of Blogspot. I've been quite preoccupied with life as of late, at least for the past week, considering it's been Halloween. On Thursday, I was busy heading to my dads house; Friday, I was busy with school and spending time with friends; Saturday, I was busy at a Halloween party; Sunday, I was busy with leaving said Halloween party and spending the day with my girlfriend. On Monday and Tuesday, I was busy being sick, as well as entering 'NaNoWriMo' (National Novel Writing Month), in which you write somewhere around 1600 words per day as part of a novel of your own creation, and by the end of the month, you'll have somewhere around 50,000 words; the equivalent of roughly 175 pages.

I, myself, have started writing the next phase of my long-in-the-works story "Ihrer Wilkommen Amerika," about a world in which the Nazi's win the Second World War (at least in Europe, as America remains neutral), and I'm lucky as I have plenty of groundwork to go off of from previous drafts and notes I wrote a few months back.

Aside from all that, my love life has been generally quite good, although the age difference really does create some strange bumps in maturity level I'm only beginning to truly acknowledge. The thing that matters the most, though, is that I'm generally happy with her, and we'll see where it goes from here. She has many more years to grow, and many issues she needs to sort out with herself, as well as others, yet that's as far as I'm going to delve into that half of the story, as it's really not the internets business to know, nor my business to tell.

As for my social life, that's going great. No bumps in the road on that side of the spectrum, as everything seems to have levelled out to what it will probably always be in some way, shape, or form, despite future distances between all of us.

Anyways, I should probably sign off. Peace out, blue planet!

Fractal Ambivalence

When I look out from the smudged and cracked windows of home,
I know there's no place quite the same as right here;
No place I could find that quite catches my ear,
And no place quite the same that can swallow my fears,
To the depths of this heated and comfortable box,
In which I am protected by numerous locks,
From intruders and bandits,
Salesmen and clerks;
I am the legal intruder,
And for me, that's what works.

Yet I'm here when, in fact, I am meant to be there;
Not far from my home,
I'm meant to be learning whats fair.

I am meant to be learning what's right and what's wrong,
Yet 6 hours of my time a day seems quite long,
To be spending on verbs, nouns and pronouns,
On algebra, fractions, and abnormal word sounds.

This life is not theirs; this life is all mine,
Such an old and used system would appear to be right,
Yet I beg to differ, as revolution now squeaks,
To push through the systems cracks and cause leaks,
In which free-thinking filters the words of the old,
Who believe themselves better, for they're trained and so bold.

When I look to society, what is it I see?
Is it a throng of a thousand people who seem to be free?
Not quite, yet at the same time, that seems quite close,
They are free in a box, in which authority is the host.

"Civilization has to be defended against the individual,
And its regulations, institutions and commands are directed to that task."*
Quite an obvious command,
And it seems that at last,
Man is learning to embrace what they each see as free;
And it does not simply stop at being free to simply be,
It goes beyond such in mind, matter, soul, and in trust;
For it is the systems denial,
Towards which I lust.

The institutions, and nations,
Corporations, news stations,
Stateism, classism, all attempt to control,
Who I am, what I do, where I go, who I meet;
They tell me to relax, and just take a quick seat;
Yet I know what I want from life is free feet,
To be who I am,
And take all the heat.
To do what I do,
And ignore what's 'elite.'
To go where I go,
And control, as such, my feet.
To meet who I meet,
And next to them, take a seat.

I am not a name,
And I am not a number.
I am always awake in my mind,
As I slumber.

*Quote from SIGMUND FREUD; THE FUTURE OF AN ILLUSION (1928)

To Contradict Brian

So, in the spirit of good friendship, I am going to analyze and debunk everything that is visible on the front page of Brian Raimondo's blog, "To Contradict Kyran."

1: The Weekly Song Pick: Ain't No Rest for the Wicked by Cage the Elephent.

No analyzation or debunking needed here. Except, maybe, the fact that Brian has nothing to do with this song... not that he claimed he did or anything... just thought I'd toss that out there for good measure.

2: Recommended Series -- Pure Pwnage

This one is a simple one to debunk. Why? Because this show is, without a doubt, not very funny.

Sure, I got a few chuckles, but that was all I got out of it. It is in no way measurable against shows such as The Simpsons, South Park, or yes, even Family Guy, which I have been found to be waning in quality humor as of late.

It's a completley immature, commercially driven series which tries to force chuckles out of the audience.

Done and done.

3: Two admins are better than one...

If you say so, Brian, but I'm the only admin for "It's a Friendly Inferno!" and I've got over 260 posts, of which about 98% are of good quality (based on my personal opinion).

I do have to admit, Thomas has got quite the repetoir of good wording, as well as superior spelling and grammar to Brian, who can't spell worth shit and types new posts like he would talk to someone over MSN or Facebook.

4: Culture Jamming FTW :D

Ok Brian, as if I was planning to take this seriously in the first place... but using 'FTW' and an emoticon crushed any chance there was that I was going to even give this a serious thought in the slightest sense of the word.
But I'll give you kudos on the Photoshop skill. That was clever. Even if the humor was abit more than slightly immature.

5: The blog's official mini poem

This is an easy one. For one, he spelt 'Hip' wrong in the first sentence, writing it as follows: 'Hipp.' Maybe it was some mislead, somewhat sad attempt to seem 'with the times,' but I mean- come on. I can already picture when he has children one day; there faces cringing in emberassment during Parent-Teacher conferences when he starts using internet slang to explain his son/daughters skill level in Biology: "Yeah, my son's pree 'leet when it comes to Bio, dood."

Aside from that, I'd have to say I appreciate the (slightly off-tempo) poetic beat he keeps, even in the last few sentences, when the poem itself is technically over.

6: Three day's grace- Break

This entire video is complete BS. I mean, come on. This isn't a cover.. it's as if he left his camera on while practicing! The least he could do is learn the song in full, and then show how skilled he truly is, by playing it with little or no mistake for avid (and obviously quite lonely) YouTuber's out there. All I can say is that I didn't have time to watch the entire video, because I was to busy not doing anything, which I needed more time to do, and not waste it on lesser things such as veiwing half-ass covers of songs that only seek to make people feel good about feeling bad. EEEMMOOOO.

7: Batman Jumps-- Poem by Tom Robins

There is absolutley nothing that needs to be debunked or mocked in this entire post, save for maybe Tom's misjudgement in where his poem can 'breed' more successfully (obviously the legit enclaves of It's a Friendly Inferno!). Aside from said misjudgment, this post is the greatest of the posts on Brian's blog, due to the fact that Brian had nothing to do with it.

The Collapse of the Closed-Minds Walls

After watching the film-adaption of the movie "Into the Wild" during my pshychology class, it seems as if my discontent with society has come to a boiling point.
Maybe it's simply the emotional pull left behind from the films sheer power, I'm not sure; all I know is that society, as a whole, has alot it needs to repair within itself, whether it has intentions to which are untimately noble or not.

People act righteous, as if they're better than others, as if they deserve more, and have more of a right in what they say, and they discredit what others have to say because 'people think differently;' but this isn't a compromise on their part, as they later announce to their friends that they dislike the person to which voiced such opinions, due, in part, because of the opinions (yet they point out arbitrary dimensions of the person as a whole, such as their physical appearance, the way they talk, the way they walk, etc). Society supports such ideas, through a stiff process of individuality, which I support almost entirely, save for the fact that it causes some people to become so stiff in their 'individual' thinking, that they discredit all others, with little or no compromise, stating that 'the way they think is the way they think.' Now, I'm not saying you should believe what everyone else says has an authority over what you have to say, not at all; I just believe that you should always listen to what others have to say, and absorb it as food for thought. Once it's been processed enough times through your head, it develops enough to either be discarded entirely, absorbed in part, or taken at face-value. In that sense, the ideas relevance to the individual relies entirely on the machinations of the individuals mind, keeping said mind open to new ideas, yet not before critically analyzing them, or tossing them out as the thoughts of 'someone else,' and 'not me.'

People need to understand that interpretation is the key to everything, but never close off certain interpretations based on who or where they come from, as you can learn something from absolutley anyone, even a baby, if you open your mind up wide enough. Never interpret structured aithority as being real authority.

Remember to think for yourselves.

A Fragment of an Enlightening Conversation via Facebook.

Me

we create meaning with our minds. for all you know, God created everything for the hell of it.. he had no reason or rhyme.

He could've done it naively.

stop assuming so much :P

7:30pmRowaneskii

but kyran, my dear kyran, assumptions are how humans stay sane. :P

7:31pmMe

Explain why.

7:31pmRowaneskii

because if all we had was stark reality, there would be no hope, and with no hope, there is no reason to live.

we have to assume things will turn out okay

7:32pmMe

but now you're assuming that without hope, there is no reason to live.

hope is man-made as well

7:33pmRowaneskii

it is

7:33pmMe

i don't think algae in the sea hope

7:33pmRowaneskii

okay

BUT i said assumptions keep HUMANS sane. I said nothing of algae

so i should refine and say without hope, there is no reason for humans to live.

7:35pmRowaneskii

also, stop taking this so seriously. :P i'm open to the notion that everything I believe is a lie... I just prefer not to think like that.

7:36pmMe

there doesnt need to be a reason :P and im not being bitter about this.. I just speak my mind. And what I'm speaking from is pretty serious.

7:38pmRowaneskii

just as long as you'll still be my friend tomorrow :P i'm actually having fun.

7:38pmMe

of course xD

why wouldnt i be?!?

7:38pmRowaneskii

and yes there does, because we as humans have free choice and often choose not to live

haha if i dreadfully offended you with my stubborn religiousness :P

7:42pmMe

haha you didnt. otherwise i'd be offended quite often by quite a few people.

7:42pmRowaneskii

lols

and you didn't respond to my point

7:47pmMe

repeat it in full :P im just multitasking.. plus i didnt quite get what u meant

7:48pmRowaneskii

there has to be a reason to live, because humans have free choice to live or die and many choose to die if they feel they have no purpose.

7:51pmMe

but that comes down to their choice. i have a meaning in the sense that I am me, and I create me. My reason to live, is simply to live.

It wasnt predetermined by anything or anyone

7:52pmRowaneskii

thats not what i mean

i mean, you have a reason to live because you have hope that your life will be enjoyable and productive.

7:52pmMe

i have reason to live because its enjoyable and productive enough as it is.

what happens in the future will happen.

7:53pmRowaneskii

i enjoy how far we've gotten from the original topic :P

7:53pmMe

i mean, i'm not going to stop being productive, and im not going to stop enjoying it. there's just so much to contemplate and enjoy in life. thats why I live, and I think thats why most people live

7:54pmRowaneskii

the thing is, what if you had no hope at all that life would continue to be the same way? you are assuming that the world won't end tomorrow

which is why as humans, we need assumptions to stay sane.

7:56pmRowaneskii

on a side note, i love obese cats.

8:04pmMe

I doubt we need them. I highly doubt that. :P and so do i.

* * *

8:56pmMe

haha, i like reading huuuge facebook arguments, then commenting on how little it meant to me, but how entertaining it was.

8:59pmRowaneskii

i like putting little sarcastic comments on everyone's emo statuses.

i have this friend named Will who always puts these psychotic, emo ones. He hates me every second day.

9:02pmRowaneskii

facebook is a preying ground for those with a sense of humor.

9:02pmMe

haha, thats so true. i love it.

and i mean.. if you're going to advertise stuff that personal, you deserve abit of mocking

9:03pmRowaneskii

fer shure

9:04pmRowaneskii

i hate it when people put those long statuses about how much their lives suck

9:05pmMe

yeah me too :P and u feel like a prick for wanting to put something.. but then you do it anyways

9:05pmRowaneskii

i never really feel like a prick

i just make up something later so they forgive me

9:29pmMe

ima go play some videogames for abit, then go to bed.. and sleep in (:

peace!!

Abit of an Undercurrent, as if a Tap Left Running.

Hello cyberspace! I'd say there is no need to apologize for my absence this time around, as it has been brief, as far as I can tell.
I just thought I'd leave everyone with abit of an update on the status of this blog, as well as a few other helpful tidbits of information, as well as what I've been up to since I last posted.

First things first; although I haven't got much of a chance to post as of late (in general, at least), I thought I'd just give everyone a heads-up: this blog will remain in constant use by myself for as long into the future as is foreseeable, but my school and social lives are both getting quite hectic, especially considering the onset of my 12th and final year in school. Lately, I've been feeling abit smothered, and in the back of my mind, abit nervous. Why, or for what, I'm not sure.
It seems as if my life is slowly transitioning into something I'm ready for, yet not quite ready to embrace with open arms: the life of an adult.
Most of my friends, and most outspokenly, both of my parents, all seem to think I should get a job, and I think I should as well, and should really start looking into that this week, as I've finally got a pile of resumes printed out and ready to be handed out to the town employers. For some reason, I'm abit afraid to get a job, as I feel it'd seal the deal with that drastic change that's inevitably barreling towards me like a semi-truck with broken brakes, and it's not like I can resist it, as I'd like to embrace it, but at the same time, I'm afraid to embrace it too soon.

Alongside, although possibly in part because of this, I've been feeling a slight undercurrent of discontent within myself, as I seem to be developing romantic feelings for someone who just so happens to be 3 years younger than me, and this is bothering me not so much because of the age difference, but because I feel as if these feelings are manifesting themselves to quickly (as I only met her last Thursday at a dance), like they did back when I was this girls age, and every relationship was an innocent and quick affair; so in a sense, it's as if my romantic maturity is regressing, but I guess I've got to brave it out and let my common sense endure. It bothers me in another context, as I don't believe in casual relationships. When I get into a relationship, I assume it's a serious one to begin with, as it seems to be that technically, there is no such thing as short-term relationships; just long-term relationships that were cut short for a legion of different reasons, the bothersome reason in this case being that if I was to get into a relationship with her, or someone her age, I'd have to figure out what the both of us would do once I graduated, as the longest I would probably stick around would be until September of next year, after which I plan on moving to Victoria with a couple of my best friends. Although... all of this could just be wishful thinking on my part, as I only just met her, and I am hardly in a place to say that we are going to be in a relationship, although it would be nice to have a girlfriend again, and her and I both have alot in common. I don't know. Usually, I would opt not to rant about something of this nature, as it's quite personal; but I felt as if I really needed a place to vent this into words this time around, as it really is getting under my skin, in a sense.

Anyways, second of all, a bit of information that the readers of my blog may like to know is that I've published an eBook of 20 of my poems, and have also published, extensively, my poetry on the website Hello Poetry, which is free to read (and there just so happens to be a couple poems on there that have yet to be published to my blog, and may well never be).

It's about 11:20 PM on a school night, and I'm feeling pretty tired, so I think I'm going to head off and hit the sack. The philosophy articles that I promised you in August are on there way, but they've been postponed until further notice due to all the above reasoning's, so you will see them, but as to when, I'm about as clueless as you are.
Good night blue planet.

The Town They Called a City

Just as the pyramids would,
In the deserts of Cairo,
Snow-capped mountains gleam distant,
As if Kings on the Main.

This distance complete,
Through the eyes of the beholder,
As from a sea-sided office,
We with watch with wonder lust.

Bright streetlights,
And red lights, and green lights,
And stop signs,
As decadent name-change,
Perceives as if older,
As bigger, as bolder.

Musicians and artists,
Poets and Marxists,
Authors and boxers,
All convene to sing songs,
As egalitarianism,
Sings us a calm, blinded lullaby,
As the idea to be grasped,
In this young mind of mine.

They call this no small town,
In which not one arcade resides;
Gun crime is never,
In percent, as we ride,
A wave of communal,
Small-town "world peace,"
We'll take some money,
Off the governments lease.

In a sense we are distant,
Different, contesting,
A world which conforms,
As if all can and will be,
A slave to a master,
Sociopathic disaster,
As we run faster and faster,
Away from that stream.

We are the masters of our fate,
As we rate the world's hate,
On a scale from 1 to 10.

We are secluded,
Yet unconfused, not diluted;
We are more aware of this world,
Than it is of itself.

We set the sidelines,
As guidelines to life,
As we watch with some bias,
As we remain neutral to strife.

We are the Power,
And we are the River,
Ripped from the main-stream,
We create; we are free.

Dedicated to my hometown of Powell River,
British Columbia,
Canada.

Like the Jaded Sidewalkers

Men clad cleanly, polished boots and bowler hats,
Women wearing short skirts or long dress,
Boys no longer boys deny their old,
With rock and rap, skate shoes; how bold!

Indifferently they carry on,
I am you, and you are him,
She is fat and she is slim,
Registered in heads dead depth,
As we pretend to see no man who chokes on crystal meth.

Like the jaded sidewalkers,
Who cram these city streets;
A glance is but acknowledgment,
As all shuffle in quick feet.

To say the least, we will pay none,
To those who are not us;
To say the least, we think we've won,
Ignore the drunk mans fuss.

Like the jaded sidewalkers,
Who view in black-and-white;
No middle-ground perceives a frown,
As they sleep amid streetlights.

The morning rush and nightly blitz,
As people scurry too,
Destinations, dealing smiles;
Self-help books to start anew.

As talk through text, online, or phone,
Dominates the daze,
Indifferently, ignore eachother,
"Nothing need be said inside this maze."
The CEO, he acts as King,
With peasants treated well;
Their brains blunted to buried states,
"He's bad; but he'll get his due in hell."

Everyday they rise early,
To catch the mornings speed;
"I do this by the clock because,
A life, so rich, I'll lead."

"Conforming kills the mindless soul,
To fight off human urge;"
You're free, yet unaware of this,
So conforming, you won't purge.

Like the jaded sidewalkers,
Who, like zombies, follow sway,
A human hand on island sand,
'I saw him not,' or so I say.

To Hide Within Invisible Walls

Xenophobic, homophobic, racist, sexist, conservative, and rigid. Traditional values treated humans as sheep to a Shepard, and although modern values hold parallels and comparatives, it seems, at least the illusion of freedom prevails.

In the 1860’s, you would be shot for murder in the sense that the ‘punishment fits the crime.’ Life was expendable to the greater good, or, as the Wild West confirmed, for nothing greater at all. In addition, people of separate race, nationality, or sexuality were treated as inferior, and attempts at extermination would also be made from time to time as these feelings of ‘superiority’ came to a boiling point. Moreover, death became the norm; something everyone was required to deal with due to its almost daily inevitability due to a serious maintained decline in the health of the masses. Isn’t death commonplace in today’s world as well? Yes, but it seemed tradition almost endorsed it when it came to certain ‘undesirable’ members of society.

Now that’s not to say that this sort of thing doesn’t occur from time to time in our contemporary world, but it seems that it is a suppressed flipside of the projected reality we live in. Racism is kept to individuals or groups, masked as a joke, making it hard to really interpret when it’s meant playfully or seriously; yet it remains a very real part of modern society. As for xenophobia, homophobia, and sexism, they are just as real, but not quite as intertwined and widespread as racism seems to be. On the other hand, all of this seems to be pointing to the negativities of today, when in fact the positives outweigh them by ten to one. We have running water, both hot and cold; access to upwards of 1000 channels on television, which can either help or hinder our open-mindedness; and unconditional access to information on absolutely anything known to man via the internet, which can only help ones open-mindedness, as the internet is selective as opposed to subjective in what you will absorb.

There are many points of congruent similarity between the modern and traditional worlds; some of the more arbitrary points being the most outspoken in continuity, such as fathers still being abit more overprotective of their daughters than they are of their sons, in a hopeless attempt at the preservation of childhood innocence. This is not to say that it is as outspoken as it once was in the 1860’s, but it is to say that it is a very real remainder of the social programming we, as humans, underwent during the days of the Wild West and the Industrial Revolution. The very real existence of homophobia that still exists in today’s society is another point of congruent similarity one could draw on, yet it is a similarity with difference. In the 1860’s, homosexuality was effectively suppressed throughout every enclave of society as a whole, yet still stood defiant in its existence; but in the contemporary world, it would seem that the tables have turned, and it is now homophobia’s turn to be widely suppressed. Now, that is not to say that homosexuality is the preference of the majority, but it is to say that the acceptance of homosexuality is the preference of the majority. Sadly, just as homosexuality in the 1860’s, homophobia still stands stubbornly defiant in its tensely-guarded existence.

Nationality, and in a pseudo-realistic sense, nationalism, still remain as significant knots to our past, both recent and ancient, in the sense that they take from the past to build the identity of an arbitrarily marked geographic location in the present. I mean, honestly; what would Greece be like without Hercules? The United States without Abraham Lincoln or George W. Bush? Canada without John A. MacDonald? They’d be much different in the patriotic sense, that’s for sure. On the other hand, the difference is quite major once you really get down to it, requiring we’re not referring to Neoconservatives, whose nationalist rants tend to give government a bad face, time and time again. The difference is the idea that nationality can be exchanged, especially in North America, where a place like Canada acts more as the world’s Petri dish when it comes to diversity in every field, in which every country is represented as if each immigrant citizen were part of a foreign delegation directly representing the original; and places like the United States act as the world’s melting pot, as to create some sort of hybrid nationality in which every country is represented in a form autonomous to its origins. This isn’t to say that xenophobia no longer exists, as the Muslim scare among sects of the population throughout the western world following 9/11 clearly show, but it is to say that xenophobia has significantly eased its cruel restrictions since the days of Prime Minister Robert Borden, and President Taft.

Sexism, as is still obvious among the more ‘redneck’ members of society, holds similarities to the problems of modern racism in the sense that it is constantly masked as a joke, and as such is hard to interpret as a complete social reality. It is obviously still there, as there are still cases of men finding it hard to work under a female boss due to sexist reasoning in the sense that they seem to believe it is breaching their ‘code of masculinity,’ but as opposed to the dictated lower-wages for women prior to the Second World War, it is certainly a significant and positive difference. That is not to say that modern sexism only applies in the sense of men to women, as it very much applies in the sense of women to men. In the ‘less progressive’ sects of society, there are women who still believe in maintaining the masculine image upon men as the ones who go to work as the breadwinners, and leave the women at home to care for the house and the kids. These are usually the same women who jump to creating blanket-generalizations of men the world-over, especially when they have fallen victim to masculine arrogance from such men who truly believe in the stereotypes themselves. Now, on the other hand, modern society holds very large differences in contrast to the world of the 1860’s, one of which includes the acceptance, and occasionally endorsing of homosexuality, as was examined 2 paragraphs prior. It also holds a major difference in the sense that even a majority of mainstream society seems to look down in confusion on those who stick to the stereotypical traditions.

So, in all honesty, it seems that 1862 and 2010 have more in common than may have been previously thought in the field of human societal norms, yet progressive pins-and-needles seem to be pushing themselves through the fabric of tradition to weave a new reality. Even if we are still restricted within the walls of society, the illusion of freedom prevails as it never possibly could have in the old world.

Please Note: This was originally written as an essay for my Grade 12 English class.