Yet another absolutely ignorant Facebook fad-status

"IN AMERICA- WE HAVE TO PRESS "1" TO SPEAK ENGLISH. IN AMERICA- THE HOMELESS GO WITHOUT EATING. IN AMERICA- THE ELDERLY GO WITHOUT NEEDED MEDICINES. IN AMERICA- THE MENTALLY ILL GO WITHOUT TREATMENT. IN AMERICA- OUR TROOPS GO WITHOUT PROPER EQUIPMENT. IN AMERICA- OUR VETS GO WITHOUT PROMISED BENEFITS. YET, WE DONATE BILLIONS TO OTHER COUNTRIES BEFORE HELPING OUR OWN! HAVE THE GUTS TO RE-POST THIS? 1% WILL, 99% WON'T HAVE THE NERVE"


My rebuttle:
Dude... it's your governments fault for being so laissez faire and conservative. The whole reason the homeless go without eating, and the elderly go without needed medications, and the mentally ill go without treatment, and the vets go without promised benefits, is because your country has turned into an ultra-capitalist country in which money is greedily horded to the point that much of the rich will not give to charities or the poor, and will instead buy gold-encrusted seat-belts and other such retarded novelties (Donald Trump, the worlds biggest asshole, is who I am referring to in particular, but he represents a large chunk of America's wealthy).And wtf is wrong with clicking '1' to speak English, dude? For one, English is still marked as 'Number 1' on the phone, while Spanish is probably 2. Technically, it should be the Natives clicking '1' to speak their Native tongues, not us clicking '1' to speak our foreign English tongue.Don't support NOT giving to poor countries. Get your rich to give up a quarter of their wealth to make your country into the haven you'd prefer. Install social security and social justice, not all this capitalist, greedy, laissez faire bullshit in which you want your country to stop giving to charity, and be even more selfish than it already is, considering it steals from the countries it gives aid to in the first place.

This is what troubles me, yet beautifully, because of the incredible potential and the unpredictability.

I am on a ledge in my life at the moment.

I have recently graduated from school, and as such, feel like following through with my dreams and travelling the world to discover new places, people, and experiences.
But I am absolutely unsure as to what I'm going to do and how I'm going to do it, and this is a nerve-wracking yet incredible state of affairs to be immersed in.

I have so many choices; a literally endless amount to indulge in.
I could quite literally pursue any road I would like... and this makes things beautifully complicated.

Do I hop on a plane with all of most valued personal possessions and say goodbye to this town I grew up in?
Say goodbye to my family, my friends, past lovers, co-workers, former schoolmates, and the strangers that constantly make appearances in the waking dream that is life?

Or do I decide to stay and work? Perhaps purchase or rent my own home here and figure things out from there?

Or do I follow the crowd of my friends all heading off to university on Vancouver Island? Perhaps apply for a college or university on some other part of the continent or the world?

Or should I try my hand at individual dissidence, and simply live entirely for the moment, doing everything for its own sake?

Perhaps I could become some sort of non-violent activist and go across the ocean to protest atrocities that continue to occur, even to this day.

Or I could join the army and fight for my country in a war I do not believe it, hoping to garner 'honor, discipline, and integrity.'

Or I may choose to search for love of all sorts. This would come as a bi-product of any choice I could potentially make, however.

There are many other roads I could, and may very well travel.

And I would very much like to walk down each and every one of them.

You aren't blind. Your eyes are simply sheathed beneath a sheet of tragedy.

I'm still amazed.
Conflicting feelings spread their wings in my mind, body, and soul,
And I'm dazed.

I walk around feeling the sound of your voice in my head,
And the thought of your sadness lays upon my mind like lead,
But I'm happy you appeared,
Out of the blue and interfered with that slow contentedness filled with the moving flow of contention
That led me to acquiesce to the state of my conflicted head,
As a welcome result of you.

I do not fear the risk of rejection.
Or, more accurately, I am willing to feel that fear for the sake of affection,
And in order to see your complexion with an extroverted introspective inspection,
And say with frail and honest intention, that you are far better lacking the lie that is perfection,

But that's just it.

The idea of perfection lies in accepting exception as opposed to seeking deception,
Which simply butchers perception as opposed to embracing the reception of a soul,
Regardless of the shape it may be in.

I do not intend to be a spin doctor.
More honor lies in leaving all the ardor unfiltered like sea water.

And yes, I'm sorry.
But not sorry in the sense that my instincts took the offense...
More in the sense that I couldn't find it within myself to conjure up a defense.
Because instinct is a form of common sense and an immense pretense that in many ways,
Is unavoidable.

And I refuse to let it coil up within my mind and spoil the emotional oil
Which fuels
How I feel
For you.

In many ways, I am a hopeless romantic with plenty of self-control,
And I intend to console your soul
To the very best of my ability.

So like you said,
Watch the stars in your head,
And try to see infinity.
It may also help you to realize that you, yourself
Are an intrinsically beautiful human being.

And perhaps,
One day,
You'll see what I've been seeing.

Some body.

Silly, silly, silly me.
To think I'm free, and that I'll be somebody?

Silly, silly, silly me.
You can't be free, and that's just it,
All you are is 'somebody.'
Some-body.
"Some body."

But that's not true!
Look at Trostky and Lenin,
Michael Myers and Lennon,
The other Lennon.
It's hard to differentiate in name and legacy,
Because both Lennon's were revolutionaries,
Marching around like the freshman from heaven.
But neither believed they were the result of divine intervention in the affairs of man,
Because this convention would threaten their worldview and beckon away their sanity...
In the same way that the Pope or Hitler let their divine vanity commit greater blasphemy and bring them future agony.

Now neither Lennon nor Lenin came anywhere close to being men from Galilee,
In fact they were more the men of the galaxy,
Or at least, John was, with his peach fuzz beard and his belief that love is greater than fear.
The other Lenin implemented the New Economic Policy, to starve the proletariat and start his revolution on an already hypocritical trend that would continue quite the same until the very end.
And it proves something, does it not?
Violence sends a message to no one but the instigator,
Changing them to justify, and claim is wasn't misbehavior;
But that's a lie, no idea of mine is worth the death of a human mind,
And to pretend otherwise makes one delude themselves that they aren't an instigator, but an illustrator,
Painting in the blood as if murder makes an innovator.

And for murder, there is no vindicator,
Violence is an image breaker,
Indulged in by poor imitators who think they're right, and the world is wrong.
Unaware this makes them weak, not strong.

Now John Lennon was the true revolutionary;
Although he succumbed to violence, he veered away from it, even when it was necessary.
He fought the war, and yes, the war did win,
But at least he didn't cover his scars with artificial skin,
Or deny his implicit wrongs as a result of all original sin.

John Lennon used the word 'nigger' to the opposite effect.
He used the word to trigger something bigger and correct,
The wrong that seemed so propagated by the last colonial tide,
Of which the other Lenin defected and took colonialism's side.

John Lennon was Utopian and told us of a better world;
He interjected definition, and caused old thoughts to curl away in fright,
And bite the dust despite their might and past dominion of industrialism,
It was a schism, and it still plagues us to this day.

John Lennon understood we over-complicate way
To
Often.


Silly, silly, silly me.
To think I'm free, and that I'll be somebody?

Silly, silly, silly me.
You can't be free, and that's just it,
All you are is 'somebody.'
Some-body.
"Some body."

"Some body" is something,
And some body can change the world.

Update to Previous Post:

Libyan rebels have entered the capital of Tripoli, and are only a couple of miles from the city center. As well, one of Gaddafi’s sons has surrendered himself. The civil war may be over by tomorrow morning.

The Push on Tripoli and Al-Assad's Self-Destruction

So it seems that the civil war in Libya is now in its closing stages, with the untrained militia under the command of the National Transitional Council now 15 miles from the capital, closing in from all directions at once. Operation Mermaid Dawn, as the rebels call it, is now in effect, being coordinated in direct conjunction with NATO, rebel commanders in Benghazi, and armed uprisings inside of Tripoli itself.

Gaddafi, being the psychotically narcissistic genius that he is, refuses to admit that defeat is inevitable. Perhaps, through some unfortunate shift in events, I will personally be eating the word 'inevitable' as he once again finds a way to ward of both the rebels and NATO, as he has been doing with waning, yet unexpected and, admittedly,  candidly impressive effectiveness for the past 6 or 7 months.
Either way, rebel forces have recently captured a small town on the outskirts of the capital called Maia, killing an estimated 31 pro-Gaddafi soldiers and capturing around 42 others. Alongside this, they have also captured a key military base and seized a jackpot of weaponry and armaments that will inevitably be added to the stock-pile that will soon be allotted to the final push against their former dictator and his guns-for-hire.
How long Gaddafi's mercenaries will continue to fight and die on his behalf is unknown; their morale is more liable to be shattered as a result of money being their only real motivation and incentive, as opposed to the rebel fighters who, despite their inferior training, are fighting for freedom, their homeland, and to assure that the sacrifices already made were not made in vain.

I'm willing to bet that the civil war in Libya will be over within 2 weeks to a month- perhaps a month and a half, maximum.

In another area afflicted by the uprisings of the Arab Spring movement, many peaceful protesters lie in bloody, mangled heaps on the streets of the ancient Syrian city of Damascus. The dictatorial President, Bashar Al-Assad, has been ordering continued crackdowns utilizing excessive force, such as snipers stationed on roof-tops whom are tasked with firing upon protesters or suspected dissidents as they appear on the streets, in conjunction with armed forces on the ground who are accompanied by heavy armor and artillery strikes. Al-Assad continues to claim that the uprisings have been engineered by foreign terrorist groups, and as such, should be put-down in the same way a full-fledged terrorist assault would be.
Such a violent and uncalled for response to peaceful political unrest, regardless of promises of reform and elections, have undoubtedly alienated Al-Assad not only from the outside world, but also from the entirely of his own people, pitting them clearly against him regardless of his potential illusions to the contrary.
Regardless of how much longer he and his regime can feasibly hold-out, he has irreversibly spelt-out his own self-destruction in the blood of his people.

It seems unlikely, at this moment in time, that there will be any foreign military intervention into Syrian affairs, regardless of their brutality and political volatility. Between Libya, Afghanistan, and the continued operations in Iraq, neither the United States nor NATO have shown any wish or intention to physically pit themselves against Al-Assad and his 'democratic' regime. One part of me doesn't blame them, while another part asks 'what made the affairs of Libya more of a humanitarian priority than those of Syria?'

But I neglect the rest of the Arab Spring movement in asking why one takes priority over the other, when in fact, Libya was the only conflict to take priority over Yemen, Bahrain, and Syria.
It's probably due to Saudi Arabian intervention in Bahrain on the side of the monarchy, assisting in the suppression of the uprisings in the area, meaning that the United States, as a close ally of Saudi Arabia due to it being one of their largest suppliers of oil in the area and a militarily strategic location within the Middle East, has assisted in the West's decision to turn a blind eye to the situation in the Persian Gulf.

Sometimes, interdependence can be lethal. Especially in the arena of international affairs.  

I am a Citizen.

I am a Province, a State, a Municipality, and a Region.
I am a Soldier, a Pilot, a Minister, and a Legion;
I am a black man, a white man, a brown man, a woman,
A French man, American, Canadian, and Roman.

I am a rap artist, a singer, a slam poet and guitarist;
I dabble in the dark arts accompanied by a Marxist.

I'm a barista, a gas man, a secretary, and Tsarina,
A King and a Queen and a janitorial cleaner.

I am a "lover," a "hater," a "here now" and "there later,"
I am Luke Skywalker, yet at the same time, Lord Vader.
I am a driver, a walker, a rider, a stalker,
A conservative liberal and a well-learned straight-talker.

I am a salesman and clerk,
A criminal and a serf,
The proud owner of a weapon that, while it kills, saves the Earth.

I am a drinker and smoker,
A consumer and broker,
A bomb-maker, con-artist, Priest, and interloper.

I am a Citizen.

Religious and secular,
Macrocosmic, molecular,
Suit wearing, uncaring, emphatic, irregular,
A "packie," a Nazi, a Scrabble fan playing Yahtzee;

A Jihadist, sadistic, addicted to Herodotus,
History is repeated by the philosopher that thought of us.
The eroticist literature towards which we've all lusted;
It looks like the bullets machine-gun is busted.

Indifferent, ecstatic, illicett, erratic,
An infant, a senior, a young man with bad-lip,
A black man, a white man, a brown man, a woman,
A Jew and a Christian, a Muslim musician,
A monarch, elitist, pro-abortion defeatist,
An anarchist, Black Panther, and a rich plutocratic;
I am a citizen,
And as one,

I'm elastic.

Freedom's Aftermath, Part 1: A Short Story

The Freedom Poster had changed everything.
Not for everyone... but for those who had laid eyes on the plastered men, each carrying 1 of the 7 letters that comprised the inaptly understood word of "Freedom" with its faded definition and symbolization of all that stood against the solidified standards of society as defined by Zanzari itself, it had become nothing but a curse.

In an attempt to guarantee against further dissidence, the Zanzari Office of Internal Affairs embarked upon a paranoia-motivated quest to destroy any feasible record of its existence. Despite the possibility of simply clearing it from the minds of the affected, the Harvesters feared the realm of the subconscious.
They knew Andrei had been a Harvester himself, and as such, had also been a student of the system he later came to despise. They feared he had placed 'Cues of Subconscious Recognition' upon the poster itself, effectively rendering all attempts at Selective Memory Prevention or Elimination invalid.

This left only one option, and nobody knew exactly what it was.

Sadie simply noted the absence of certain co-workers who never returned. Were she to ask as to their whereabouts, their very existence was always denied.
"I noticed Martin isn't in today. Is he ill?"
"I'm sorry Sadie, but whose Martin?"
"Head of the Company Verification Department. You worked under his administration for several years."
"I'm sorry, that name simply doesn't ring a bell. Perhaps you should return to your specified Locale of Labor before the Board decides to eliminate you for a considerable lack of contribution."
"I'm on my lunch break, Allan."
"Then go eat lunch. It's against the code to remain on active premises while on break."
Without saying a word, Sadie let her eyes draw down in hurt indifference as she turned towards the door. She missed Martin so much, and whilst maintaining an outward appearance of calm and composure, she felt close to dying inside.

Perhaps it was her fault he had disappeared. Perhaps she was next.
Her and Martin had seen the fighting in the sky, and had witnessed together the mysterious poster that had unlocked something inside each of them.
She had felt before, but had always used the prescribed medications to treat those feelings. The difference now, however, was that the medications no longer seemed to work, and she was forced to cope with hiding her illness or risk detection.

It was tough to do, however, as her and Martin had fallen in love.

And it wasn't the love of bondage that one felt towards Zanzari itself... it was a love of a single, individual, unglorified personality that would remain omnipotent regardless of everything. It had cursed Sadie to question the idea that these feelings were truly an illness... however, she was reverting to what she had originally been taught, now that the feelings were tearing her apart from the inside.

The same night of the fight and the poster, Martin and Sadie partook in voluntary intercourse. Using the guise that they were simply reciprocating, and remaining fortunately unnoticed amidst the absolute turmoil of the time, they embraced in something greater.

Something beautiful.

Something punishable by incarceration or death.

And 9 months later, Sadie gave birth to a baby boy. The Office of Reciprocity gave him the name of Kent.
Although Sadie would have much preferred the name Eric, she was happy that her son had received a reasonable designation.

Her son was now 17 and working 19 hours every day of the week like everyone else was.
Unlike his father and mother, he was placed in Sector 82-B working for the Office of Rational Interpretation as a Record Keeper due to his high grade-point average during his Academy years.

With Martin's mysterious disappearance, Sadie now began to worry for the safety of her son.
She knew something about the Freedom Poster had made her and Martin of a negative significance to someone somewhere, in some way. She was fully aware of the disappearances of others who had been present that morning so many years ago, and all the ads that ran encouraging people to turn themselves in, or report any individuals suspected to be suffering from sustained emotion.
Her son didn't feel, however.
He was normal and healthy... perhaps even entirely safe in that aspect.  

A fraction of her burden was lifted as she worked all of this out in her dangerously overactive mind.
All she knew was that she, herself, had to continue her campaign of avoidance. She had to remain quiet, content, and indifferent, making exchanges with all individuals of administrative authority short, sweet, and to the point or risk their detecting her abnormal level of brain function.
She had already been stopped in her tracks by Peace Officers in the past who stated they could sense 'neural activity in excess of the natural amount.' She only escaped such close encounters by deliberately narrowing any thought down to only one single thing and politely replying with, "I misunderstand you, Officer."

But these thoughts and these memories would gain her nothing but another encounter if she didn't simply take a break for the time being and continue on with her job.

So that's exactly what she did.

It was midnight by the time she finally returned to her humble yet not-so private abode, and as soon as she entered the door, her Personal Communicator informed her of the 3 unread messages in her Electronic Inbox.
Taking a seat in front of her computer which was flatly embedded into the silver-black of the cold, metallic wall, she typed in her 12-digit password and clicked the Inbox icon.
The first message was something about a change in curfew from midnight to 11:30 due to a recent increase in crime in three of the four bordering Sectors. It also mentioned an increase in Officer Patrols throughout the entirety of Zanzari

The next message, however, began directly addressed to her.
DEAR SADIE; SERIAL NO. 5375-28-N
ONE OR MORE OF YOUR OFFSPRING (DESIGNATE: KENT; SERIAL NO. 5376-29-Q) HAS BECOME INVOLVED IN A LABOR-RELATED DISPUTE WITH AN OFFICIAL OF SUPERIOR STANDING. ZANZARI CONFLICT MEDIATORS HAVE BEEN DISPATCHED TO THE SCENE TO DEAL WITH THE SITUATION AS THEY SEE FIT. 
YOU, AS THE NEXT OF KIN, ARE ENTITLED TO OFFERING POTENTIAL SOLUTIONS (PROVIDING YOU ARE OF THE 2ND TIER OR HIGHER; See Sect. 7, Ch. 4, Page 1276 of Citizens Manifesto for more information; Authorization Required). PLEASE SEND AN AUTHORIZED CERTIFICATE OF CIRCUMSTANTIAL INTERVENTION TO THE ZANZARI OFFICE OF INTERNAL AFFAIRS PRIOR TO ACTING ON THIS INFORMATION.


PLEASE NOTE: This message will delete itself within 24 hours.
-Z.O.I.A. Department of Labor Affairs


Chills now ran down Sadie's spine. It was a widely known fact that the Zanzari Conflict Mediators working for the Department of Labor Affairs wanted only one thing: to get everything to return to full working capacity; the people involved are always secondary details when it comes to the seemingly eternal perpetuation of 'the Greater Good.'

All workers are fully expendable.

In the event that a conflict has not been successfully mediated within 7 working days, both parties are noted to simply disappear. Presumably, they are incarcerated, or simply executed... whichever may seem more convenient at any given time. It's sort of like scrubbing away what may be the cause of greater problems in the future, as well as eliminating the weakest link; in this case, anything that impedes productivity.
But Sadie couldn't get involved with this. She would almost most definitely be detected as being a victim of sustained emotion and abnormal brain function.

But her son was an unfeeling and unthinking mechanism that was simply assisting in the movement of the bureaucratic gears of the Higher Administrations. Whatever conflict he may have encountered, the arrogance created out of his high Grade Point Average would act to block compromise or surrender on his part. It was his way, or no way, as far as he was concerned... and as a member of the 5th Tier, he wasn't at the whim of the same manipulative mind-tricks that were always played on the 1st or 2nd Tiers; the 'Labor Proletariat.'

This meant that he ran the very real risk of 'elimination.'
Feelings of motherly obligation began to wade their way into her consciousness. Whether it meant she would be detected or not, she had to save her only son.

Oops.

Well, I thought I'd give everyone one of my famous and traditional 'quick updates' on how I've been and what I've been up to for the last while.

As to quickly get you all up to speed on why this post is cryptically titled "Oops," I feel a bit ridiculous and irresponsible today regarding my attendance record at the work experience program I'm a part of known as Bladerunners; designed to assist 'youth with boundaries' to find work by being paid $150 a week to gain certain work-place certification such as basic First Aid Training, a Pleasure Craft Operators License, a Foodsafe certificate, and WHMIS (Workplace Hazardous Materials Information System) training and certification. Technically, the only real boundary I suffer from is a lack of real (or consistent) work experience. As such, I was probably one of the last priorities on the list of applicants, but I got in anyways.
Anyways, returning to the issue with my attendance record, I was sick with some sort of dizzy 'I-could-believably-be-in-a-dream' bug for the majority of last week, finally feeling better enough to return on Friday which ended-up being a half-day that was over by noon. In addition, I got a $90 deducted pay regardless; sweet deal.

And then today, after checking the program's calendar to make sure I knew what we were doing, I saw we would be training to get our Pleasure Craft Operators License, yet no location was specified on the sheet, so I assumed we would all be meeting at the Vancouver Island College (in Powell River, for those of you who may assume otherwise), which is our general base of operations. Upon arriving, I noticed no one was there, and quickly texted the facilitator only to discover that everyone was on another side of town (St. Johns Ambulance in Townsite) finishing-off the extended certification to the basic First Aid we had already done 2 weeks prior (which was AED, or Automated External Defibrillator training).

I felt ridiculous, because although I don't remember having received the memo that we were re-doing our AED training workshop today, I should have taken the hint that the Pleasure Craft Operators License training had been post-poned, as the facilitator had already informed all of us on Friday that we would be shopping for formal clothes to wear to workplace interviews on this afternoon.
Perhaps it's an innocent mistake, but considering it's a 6 week course, and I missed practically all of last week... discovering that I showed up in a completely different part of town then I was supposed to just makes me feel like a complete dolt.

Aw well, I guess.. it happens.
I'll just be sure not to let it happen again. That's really all I can do.

As for the AED extended training and certification, I'll just get that on my own dime and my own time after I've completed the remainder of the course. At least I still have my basic First Aid, and that's definitely better than nothing.

My love life, on the other hand, is looking brighter. That's not to say it's blossoming, but it's definitely got some potential sparks that may or may not start a fire, whether intentional or not. But we'll see. Whatever happens, happens... and I'll be quite satisfied and happy either way.

Life aside from (and including) all of the above is going generally quite well. I've overcome whatever sickness I had last week, it's beautiful and sunny out, and I'm bracing myself to move down to the Lower Mainland with a friend of mine come September to live with him and his mom for a couple months in order to get on my feet.

I hope all of you who made it this far in reading this comparatively uninteresting post are having a great summer. To all of you who are returning to school in the fall, whether it's elementary, middle, high school, or even college or university... make the most of it, and absorb as much as you can. Learning is definitely a beautiful privilege to have.

And for those of you who are simply returning to, or beginning work in the fall... the experience is what counts! And don't stick with any job you can't stand for any longer then a month or two. There are interesting and generally fun jobs out there, you just have to be courageous enough to look!

As for the few of you who may be going on some sort of adventure somewhere, I envy you! In the friendliest way possible, of course. Enjoy where life takes you, and make the most out of all you come across. Soak in the sight, and live to your fullest.

Have a great August, blue planet.

A Strange Diversity

regarding my 'Personality Dimensions' surfaced today as a result of mathematics.
In the work experience program I've been engaged in for the past 2 weeks, we did a sort of 'personality types' test, to discover which category, or categories, we best fit inside of.

The expected number is 2 out of 4 (1 being most like you, with the other quite like you), yet I, however, ended up being a direct part of 3 out of the 4 categories. Apparently, that's quite a rare occurence.
The category that ended up being 'most like me' was titled Resourceful Orange, which entails the general motto of "Freedom, Activity, and Variety."
The 'quite like me' categories were Inquiring Green (general motto: Knowledge and High Skills) and Authentic Blue (general motto: Relationships and Becoming a Better Person). An interesting and very positive mix, if I may say so myself (sorry if I sound like a pompous, arrogant douche; let my personality dimensions speak otherwise).

Now, for those of you who may actually care, I will list-off the in-depth characteristics, likes, needs, skills, strengths, and potential weaknesses of each category as they are listed in the little pamphlet that came with the test. Also, I'm slightly dazed today, so I apologize if my writing ability is a little under par. Anyways:

Resourceful Orange:

Characteristics:

Open to anything new, looks for change, makes quick decisions, independent, competitive, very generous, funny and clever, clear and direct, practical, and does not judge other people.

Needs:

To be in control, to work with little supervision, freedom to decide quickly, a chance to perform, freedom to create, results, feedback, to try new things often, and to have skills noticed.

Strengths:

Flexible and relaxed, gets quick results, good problem solver, good in crisis, speaks clearly, thinks quickly, can work long and hard, works well under pressure, sees opportunities, and is fun and entertaining.

Likes:

Taking risks, adventures, fixing problems, taking care of emergencies, being the boss, learning by doing things, contests, finishing things quickly, and doing many things at once.

Skills:

Getting things done, leading others, being "in charge," selling, convincing other people, talking in front of groups, making "deals," creating and designing, responding to emergencies, fixing mistakes, and managing many projects.

Potential Weaknesses:

Impatnient with theory, not willing to argue about words, may not see past today, not interested in abstract ideas, not completing some jobs, not focusing on details, being "pushy," acting too quickly, too willing to argue, and may bend the rules to get things done.


Inquiring Green:

Characteristics:

Wants things to make sense, expects high quality, makes improvements, creates systems that work, investigates/ asks questions, controls emotions, thinks of new ideas/ methods, and sets high standards.

Needs:

Knowledge, high standards, freedom to ask "why?," independence, thinking time, and privacy.

Strengths:

Thinking about ideas, figuring out "how" and "why," learning, working hard on a project, clear thinking, using exactly the right worlds, analyzing, and understanding meanings.

Likes:

Exploring ideas, discovering, designing models, improving quality, creating plans, sovling hard problems, explaining things, and lots of information.

Skills:

Creating a mental picture, solving problems, researching and developing, observing, figuring things out, planning and organizing, and understanding diffucult ideas.

Potential Weaknesses:

Complicated explanations, loses focus if bored, doesn't worry about others feelings, can be impatient, may not complete a boring project, gives too much information, argues (for fun, sometimes!), dislikes emotional outbursts, and is too analytical.


Authentic Blue:

Characteristics:

Likes most people, understands people, shares feelings, makes a good impression, full of energy, supportive and warm, expressive, honest, cares about other people, and thinks positivley.

Needs:

Harmony, being with others, few details, approval from others, support without any limits, encouragement, attention, being popular, and being accepted.

Strengths:

Working well with others, creative thinking, sharing thoughts, showing true concern, strong instincts, seeing potential in others, commitment to helping people, helping others grow, building harmony, and helping with conflicts.

Likes:

Meeting new people, honesty, harmony and peace, quotes that inspire, being respected, being cared for, entertaining others, changing to meet others' needs, fun, and friendships.

Skills:

Motivating, leading, speaking and writing, mentoring and training, listening and communicating, maintaining harmony, building teams, mediating conflicts, and encouraging others.

Potential Weaknesses:

Setting unrealistic goals, being too compliant, using time wiseley, not being able to say "no," trying to do to much, getting too involved, being slow to decide, being too sensitive to conflict, admitting problems, showing favourtism, and making people dependent (by helping them too much).

In summary, I'd have to say this is quite a strange mix of attributes. I'm sure some of the attributes would logically cancel eachother out on occasion, if not most of the time... while others would be prevalent at one time or in a certain situation, over another time, and a different situation. In the same way, and to my personal benefit, much of the 'potential weaknesses' would also cancel eachother out, whether only on occasion, or all of the time. Looking back on my past, I would have to say the occurence of one attribute or potential weakness cancelling another out in differing situations really has occured.

But, I guess, it's all a matter of perspective.

On Having Reached the Location of "Where Am I?"

How upset would you be if you woke up this morning inside a 6 by 6 jail cell where the only part of the entire room that had any privacy from the prying eyes of the prison surveillance cameras was the 3 or 4 meters surrounding the uncomfortably small vicinity of the toilet?

Or would you be upset at all?
I apologize for my blatant generalization in saying that everyone coming too in such circumstances would not enjoy them in the slightest. That was simply our society's attempt at an 'objective' moral definition of what's good and bad perpetuating itself into my subconsciously gullible mind. I am just as much a part of the herd as anyone else, and I won't deny it.
But I've always wondered what I would be like in jail. Would I be upset? Disillusioned? Surprised? Bored? Frightened? Lonely? Despondent? Indifferent?
Or would I suddenly smile at the realization that I was not a prisoner sandwiched between these sour metallic bars and this dry, tasteless wall of stone so much as I was a prisoner of ideas polarizing each other in the furthest conceivable extremities, missing the color and simply seen in black-and-white, bringing an alarming 'if you're not with me, than you're against me' mentality to the whole consensual construct of the rule of law?

Perhaps I would consider myself as having reached the final frontier of my political affiliations and ambitions, and in doing so unintentionally creating a lack thereof. Perhaps I would decide that true anarchism resides within the lonely confines of prison, yet then I would make the chain realization that it wasn't within the lonely confines of the prison that this anarchism truly resides, but within the empty and wide open spaces of my mind, always talking to itself in a vein attempt to access the highest frontier of thought conceivable, only to have its echo-location never return leaving only one tangible hypotheses: that there is no final frontier of thought. It simply continues on and on and on, with my brain acting as a home that's roof was violently torn away during a hurricane of existential epiphany.

I can't say I wouldn't be frightened. Perhaps I would even be horrified. What kind of beasts would roam these prison hallways, walking about in a state of perpetual indifference to my existence, ready to snuff me out should I become an obstacle of inconvenience? Yet, Wait, I would think of myself.
Why would such a being horrify me in the slightest? Would it not be true that this horrifically amoral creature is simply the state of the universe personified? That may be the very reason it frightens me so. Like any rational human being, I do not want to face a universe that does not work with my best interests at heart. I do not want to face an empty mortality of 'now it's over, and there's certainly no sequel to who you are.'

Nor do I wish to embrace the idea of an empty morality, I think to myself. And then I make the realization that it is impossible to embrace what doesn't exist. It is impossible to embrace what was always eternal nothingness.


It then comes to me in fragmented sentences cutting each other off in tandem, like a telegram with *STOP* after each period, yet at times the *STOP* is placed mid-sentence before I have a chance to comprehend what was about to be communicated through myself, and to myself. What a strange feeling it is, when you gain the ability to silently interrupt yourself using words invisible to all but you.

The universe is inherently empty of all meaning. Meaning is a human concept; one that we apply to all we wish to be partially or wholly personified for our spiritual benefit. Yet I know spirituality exists, even if only inside of myself... or better yet, inside of each and every one of us who makes the decision to embrace it.
Because you can't embrace the opposite, which was always eternal nothingness.

It is then that I realize what seems to be an optimistic truth to it all: the universe may not make anything of me, but I choose what to make of the universe. In fact, it is human nature to make something of the universe. The universe is only silent and meaningless to itself, designed by nothing and for nothing. And I'd say we're pretty lucky to have the ability to make that nothing into something, and not only something, but something true and believable. The universe itself is not moving inexorably towards any higher purpose; but we are. Or, more accurately: we are if we so choose to be.

So, it would be within this lonely prison cell that I would discover who I am. And it would be within this lonely atmosphere of perpetual pessimism that I would discover the truly optimistic truth to it all.
I would discover that, despite these walls, and these guards, and this atmosphere of pain and suffering and wasted time, that I was, and always would be a free man. And none of this would change that.

And were I ever to forget how truly free I was, all I would have to do is ask myself: "Where am I?"